How the Mississippi River got its shape

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This legend is the reason for the Cheyenne custom of making an offering of food or Tobacco whenever a person crosses a body of water or stands beside the lake or ocean. From this ancestral tradition by the Cheyenne, other bands also adopted this ceremonial practice. This story was told by Cheyenne Elder Mary Little Bear Inkanish.

Two young Cheyenne hunters were traveling. Game was very scarce and the two men were very hungry. They came out onto the high prairie where the grass was bending to the wind and dancing about.

Unexpectedly, the travelers found two great large eggs nestled in the broken prairie grass, off to one side of the trail.

"I have found a blessing. Come on over," said the one to the other. "I have found food for us. These big eggs will make a whole meal for both of us."

"Count me out," his friend replied. "I don' t think we should eat something magical, as they might be dangerous and do harm to us. Those eggs are too large to be real, and I don't want to eat them."

"Maybe they are turtle or bird eggs," retorted the first speaker, who ignored his friend's opinion, built a fire of buffalo chips and roasted the eggs, propped up on several large stones in the fire pit. He turned them with a large-forked tree-limb until they were done.

"Here, see how good they are," he crowed, as he popped the shell off his own egg. "Come on, eat it!"

But his friend still refused. So the greedy young man ate his egg, and most of the second one. They rested awhile, and the one who had eaten the eggs began to feel sick. When they began to walk, he staggered and stumbled across the prairie grass. They continued on until it was dark, and camped out on the open prairie.

In the morning, the greedy young man woke up his friend.

"Help me," he said. "I feel like I can't walk. My legs are so stiff and heavy that I can hardly move them. I don't know what's the matter."

"Let me see," said his friend. He drew off his moccasins and saw to his dismay that his friend's legs were no longer smooth and brown. His skin had become striped and scaly, like a snake's hide.

"Lets go," he said. "Perhaps we can find water. If I have water to drink, I'll feel better." The sick man dragged his heavy legs and had to make frequent rest stops. Eventually, he had to crawl along the ground, dragging his legs behind him. "Don't leave me," begged the sick one. "I'll never live if you leave me here alone."

"We've been the best of friends since we were small," his friend replied. "I promise to stay with you until you're safe."

At nightfall, they came upon a little lake.

"Let's camp here and rest," said the sick one. "If I go swimming and get my legs wet, it will make me feel better."

"You climb into the water while I make a fire," agreed his friend.

So, he dived in, leaping and twisting his body about ecstatically.

"I feel better than ever!" he called out to his pal.

"Come out and rest now, so you don't get too tired," answered his friend.

But as he dragged himself out of the water, he noticed that his legs were joined together, and that the lower part of his body had become a snake's.

"There is somewhere I have to go," he said. "Take me home".

They went on slowly all day, and by dusk they had come to another lake.

"This is not my home, but it will do for a rest," the sick one said. "Help me into the water and I will stay by the lake tonight."

Splashing and leaping about in the water, the snake-man came out of the lake. Now, only his head and arms were of a man. The rest of him was a snake.

"I know now where I am supposed to go," he said. "They are calling me to come to the Mississippi River. Help me get there and I will be all right."

His stretched-out body was leaving a great snake's trail behind him. When it was sunset, the two reached the Mississippi River.

"This is where I am to live," said snake-man. "Stay with me for a while. There is something important I want to share with you."

The gigantic serpent-man slithered down the bank nto the muddy water. His friend paced the bank crying and praying throughout the night, finally sleeping only a short time at daybreak. Abruptly, he was awakened by a powerful voice.

"My friend, my friend. Look at me!"

Rising from the river was a massive creature with bluish skin and two horns on its head, with a little red-dot under each of his eyes.

"My brother, don't be afraid. It's only me," said the water-serpent. "From now on I will lie in the middle of the riverbed and fill it from side to side. My body will stretch out as long as the Mississippi. Go back and tell my friends not to worry about me. Tell them that I'm not dead, but that I am taking care of the river.

"Whenever you cross you must bring buffalo meats and drop them in the middle of the river for me to eat," he continued, "or drop tobacco in for me to smoke. Whenever anyone does that, I will give my blessing."

"I will tell the people and all your relatives," his friend said.

"But tell my relatives not to come to see me," the snake-man said. "If they do, it will create bad medicine."

"I'll be sure to tell them," his friend said.

"Come," said the snake-man. "I want to hug you good-bye, because we will never meet again. Don't be afraid; I won't hurt you."

The snake-serpent licked his friend's face with his forked tongue, and told him never to forget. The young man went back alone to the village, and told the story.

"Take us there. Take us where we can see our son," said the serpent-man's parents. The young man at first refused, but the parents begged so tenaciously that, against his better judgment, he agreed to take them.

"I don't want to do it," he warned. "Something bad will happen if you go."

As they reached the riverbank, it was buffeted with great waves and there was fire rising up from the place where their son had disappeared. The parents heeded the warning - by turning around and going home.

Ever since, when the Cheyenne cross a body of water, they take food and tobacco to drop n as an offering to the serpent-man and his underwater relatives.