Kumeyaay - Seen-u-how' Kow-wak' (old woman's twins)
A mysterious woman figures largely in the myths connected with the Laguna mountains, which lie adjacent to the Cuyamacas on the east. These are probably of as ancient origin as any now in the remembrance of the Indians, and the date far back to the time when the animals were the brothers of man, speaking his language, and the various deities were of miraculous birth.
From out of En-yak' (east), no one knows how, nor when, nor where, came a woman, and dwelt in a cave in the mountains, and her name was Seen-u-how'. This happened in the long forgotten days, and no one can tell exactly how she looked. Sometimes she was young and beautiful; again she appeared as a wizened old hag, feeble, and bent with age. One only knows that she existed from the beginning of time, possessing the power of dispelling her age by bathing in Ah-ha' Kwe 'se-I (Bewitched water).
She lived alone in her cave, and one morning when she went down to an enchanted pool of clear spring water to bathe and renew her youth, she found
How-wak' (twins) floating on the bosom of its limpid pureness. In those days, man was not born of woman, but sprang in infancy from the living water of crystal springs.
Home to her cave she took the twin boys and that night they grew in some marvelous, mysterious manner to full-fledged man-hood; but as different as are the deepest twilight shadows from the rose-light blush of dawn.
The one she named Par-a-han' was pensive and sad of heart, while the other, called Sat-e-co' sparkled with laughter and song.
Many, many ages did they live in that cave with Seen-u-how', never growing any older, neither did their dispositions vary. Par-a-han' was always sorrowful, Sat-e-co' ever gay.
From the young shoots of an elderberry bush they fashioned a flute on which Sat-e-co' played joyous melodies as he wandered far and near o'er the country. Haunting, rippling, lilting, little tunes that floated off on the breeze.
One day two Indian maids, in the far distance, heard the echo of those seductive tones and stole away from their people to follow the enchanting strains. Finally reaching the place where dwelt Seen-u-how' with her sons, they became enamored of the How-wak' (twins); and they staid and became their wives.
Yet they dared not remain away from their people for any length of time, for fear they might be followed and punished. For the chief, their father, had heard of the woman of magic and her queer sons, and forbidden any of his tribe to go near them.
So, regretfully telling Par-a-han' and Sat-e-co' good-bye, and promising to come back to them as quickly as possible, the two Indian women returned to their home, never saying where they had been. Their father, who was an exceedingly wise man, surmised the truth, however and kept close guard over them lest they go again. He knew that after awhile the How-wak' (twins) would come seeking, and then he could kill them.
Darkness followed the light and time went on. Par-a-han' and Sat-e-co' grew tired of waiting and told Seen-u-how' that they intended to search for their women and bring them back to live in the cave again.
Seen-u-how', knowing all things ere they happened, warned them of the Chieftain's anger; begged them not to go, and foretold the horrible manner in which death would overtake them.
Heeding not her warning, and feeling sure of outwitting the Chief, nothing could dissuade them. But before setting out on their journey across the wilderness of mountains, they twisted a long rope from strong fiber of the mescal plant, stretching it taut from one pine tree to another in front of their cave. They told their mother, should any evil befall them, the rope would break in the center and one end fly to Ka-tulch' (North) and the other fly to Ka-wak' (south). Then they started off to find their wives.
The trail was long and beset with many difficulties. When they reached the border of the great Kutchut Kwataay's domain, they laid down to rest before making the final dash after his daughters. But he, with some of his warriors, discovered them while they slept, and seized them, putting them to death after the most hideous tortures.
Seen-u-how', desolate and forsaken in the cave, knew they were dead ere she peered out of the gloom and beheld the rope of the mescal parted in twain, the one end having flown to Ka-tulch' (North) and the other to Ka-wak' (south). Loudly, and long she wailed and wept for her departed How-wak' (twins). Then in anguish disappeared in En-Yak (East) mysteriously as she had arrived - no one knows how, nor when, nor where.
But there is a point on Ah-ha' Mut-ta-ti' e (Water mountains) where one may stand and look out across the vast stretches of desert sand while the mystic shades of night are deepening, and see a light in the far east, -- a light like the flicker of a torch. As one looks it illumines a cave in which sits an old woman, haggard and shriveled, and all alone. Then her image vanishes. Looking again one sees the form of a beautiful maiden, in all the glory of her youth; her long black hair shines in the glimmering light, and the beads of her necklace sparkle like twinkling stars. She too, is alone, and fades away.
It is Seen-uu-how' dwelling in En-yak' (east), and there she renews her youth from time to time by bathing in the dew of the fleecy clouds, which float about her.