Long ago, the Multnomah people of the pacific North West resided high above a place they referred to as Big River. The river rushed over jagged rocks that piled high into a towering mountain. This mountain was where the tribe lived, led by their chief, Adoeete.
Adoeete had but one daughter, for all of his sons had died in battle. Because of this, Adoeete greatly cherished his daughter. But this isn't the chief's story; it's hers.
"Aiyana?" the great chief called for his daughter, walking through his land and towards the thickening of trees and other assorted flora. He hadn't seen the girl all morning. She had picked a most inopportune day to disappear. For this was the day her future would be written.
This was the day of her wedding.
Adoeete had chosen the man carefully, selected solely on how happy he believed he would make his daughter. The boy, Knoton, was the chief of the neighboring Clatsop tribe. He had taken leadership early on, following the death of his late father. This development also left him in need of a wife.
Knoton had inquired after the chief's own daughter and upon Adoeete's approval, arrangements had been made.
Aiyana was a highly sought after maiden. Her beauty was renowned and her love for her people was equally acknowledged. Knoton was lucky to have her as a wife.
"Aiyana?" Adoeete called out again. He ducked beneath a low hanging tree branch and continued on to where he was sure he would find her.
Aiyana had a habit of treading down a well-worn trail that led to the riverbank. By the time Adoeete had walked the same path, bones creaking as he held himself upright on the steep hill, he caught sight of his daughter's long black hair receding behind another tree.
She wore her wedding attire; a long, buck skin skirt dusting around her ankles and a similar blouse of the same material, sleeves falling to her forearms. Her golden skin glowed in the morning sun and her dark hair fell straight down her back. Her beauty was astounding.
"Aiyana," the chief repeated, striding towards her. She swiveled on her heel at his voice, surprise written across her dark features.
"Yes, father?" a first glance, you would expect her voice to be something crystalline; a voice property of a young, naive girl. But not Aiyana's. She had always been serious, always worrying about her people more than herself and doing all she could to ensure their well being. Her voice was that of a woman who had seen troubles and embraced the world.
"The boats are arriving." The chief need not say more. Aiyana nodded and followed him as they walked back up the cliff together. Adoeete studied her from the side, her brown eyes showing a steady calmness he had expected to be overrun with nerves.
"You are alright?" he asked her, surprise seeping through his tone.
Aiyana stood with her head held high as she climbed upon a particularly elevated mound, holding her hand out to him. "Of course, father." She smiled at him in reassurance, "Should I not be?"
The chief simply shook his head, gray braid thumping against his back. He should have anticipated his daughter's bravery even in the face of marriage.
When they made it back to their village, Aiyana was met with many congratulations from her people, each of which she excepted with a warm smile. But Adoeete's attention was drawn elsewhere.
From up high on the cliff, he could see canoes docked upon the river bank far from where they had just been. They had arrived.
He gently nudged Aiyana's arm to get her attention and pointed towards the boats. Unless you were watching closely, Aiyana's expression never seemed to falter. But the chief was watching and so he saw her raise her chin just the slightest bit higher, a telltale sign of her looming anxiety.
"A thunderstorm is hanging around you," the chief said lowly, gravely voice only loud enough for her to hear.
"It is merely anticipation," Aiyana replied without a hint of hesitation, gaze moving to the trail.
A group of men were walking swiftly up the mountain, one of which Adoeete immediately recognized as Knoton. His loyal tribe followed as he navigated through the rough spots and finally made his way to the top. The second he saw Aiyana he stopped abruptly in his tracks, taken aback by her beauty.
The chief had met the young man many times before and each time Aiyana had been with him and every time the boy had done this, as if he couldn't believe what he was seeing; couldn't believe that she would soon be his.
"Aiyana," the young chief greeted as he approached her. His tone was soft and his black eyes refused to part from hers. Oh, yes he would make for a fine husband.
Aiyana smiled back softly, almost bashfully.
Adoeete cleared his throat, straightening his stiff back to his full height. Knoton jerked his attention away from Aiyana in surprise then bowed to the chief, "Chief Adoeete. It is an honor to see you both again."
Adoeete liked that the young man stood proudly, gaze resolute in the prescence of one of his elders. It wasn't a rude presentation, but rather confident. Adoeete smiled broadly and clapped the young man on the shoulder, "It is nice to meet you again, too, young chief. But now isn't the time for formalities, we have a wedding to celebrate!"
He said this the moment he caught sight of the other tribes moving up the trail. Each of them were here to celebrate his daughter's union. It would be an excellent celebration.
The wedding commenced within the hour. Aiyana and Knoton had stood upon a tule map that had been layer on the ground. The two had then been wrapped in a single blanket together while Aiyana had two elongated, white flowers place in her braided black hair.
After the ceremony concluded, the wedding feast began. This was the part that each tribe anticipated the most when it came to weddings.
The feast lasted for several days and included numerous activities among which included swimming races, canoe races on the Columbia river, bow and arrow contests, horse racing, and dancing.
Adoeete had chosen to start with the bow and arrow contest as it was Aiyana's favorite. He, his people, and the visiting tribes hurried off to the designated shooting area of the forest while the newly weds lingered behind, following at a much slower pace than the eager guests.
Aiyana and Knoton walked side by side, watching the crowd ahead of them disperse into the woods. Knoton inclined his head a bit so Aiyana could better hear him as he softly said, "I would like you to know that, to you, I may be only one person but to me you are the world."
Aiyana looked at him sharply, "You love me?"
"I'm not sure if it's love quite yet," Knoton began thoughtfully. "But I do know that my thoughts are free to go anywhere and I often find them coming back to you. I think it's a feeling that could amount to love, in time."
Aiyana wasn't sure how to feel about that answer. She wasn't sure if what she felt was love. But she did know she liked Knoton at lot and his words made her head feel light. Maybe this union would prove better than she expected.
Aiyana decided that she would try just as hard to build a strong marriage with Knoton as she did with everything else. Her fingers wrapped around her husband's as they followed after their people to join the festivities.
When they arrived in the clearing Aiyana accepted a bow offered to her with a beaming smile, Knoton by her side, his own bow raised. Just as she was about to draw the arrow back, Aiyana heard a wracking cough strike a child sitting a few yards away. She lowered her bow and walked over to the small boy, offering him a smile as his coughs receded. "Are you alright?" she asked, feeling Knoton's gaze on her back.
At the boy's nod, Aiyana smiled again and offered her hand to him but he hesitated. "It is alright," she reassured him but still the boy didn't take her hand and instead averted his gaze.
Suddenly Knoton was kneeling beside her and gently taking the boy's arm and uncurling his fist. Aiyana's eyes widened for his palm was splattered with dozens of tiny red pools of blood.
His mother beside him gasped at the sight, surely noticing what Aiyana was just now seeing. The little boy's forehead was coated in a shiny coat of sweat and his cheeks were painted a ruddy color. He had the sickness.
A girl a few years younger than Aiyana coughed roughly but briefly across the clearing, quickly smothering the outburst. The people near her stepped back in fear, watching as she quickly lost the battle and succumbed to full out hacking.
"The Great Spirit is angry," they murmured.
Aiyana rose to her feet, meeting her father's surprised expression before she said, "Anyone who is feeling unwell, go to the healer's tent." She watched as Knoton reached down and pulled the small boy into his arms, waiting for her to lead them to the hut. She gave him a slight nod in thanks, appreciative to have the help.
The little boy was devoid of any energy as Knoton carried him to the hut and deposited him upon a cot. "Has there been a sickness in your village recently?" he asked.
Aiyana shook her head, "None at all. If their had we would have delayed the wedding. Maybe the sickness is only in a few."
Knoton nodded unsurely, attention focused on the boy. "We should help the others to the tent," he said, turning to leave.
Aiyana caught his arm at the last moment, "Thank you, Knoton. I realize this is not the ideal wedding we were expecting." Sincerity was evident in her voice, but so was fear along with strength.
"Of course," he said, bending down to lightly kiss her cheek. Despite the current situation, warmth spread through her body, bringing an uncharacteristic pink tinge to her face. Together, they left the tent.
The next morning the village was wreaked with exhaustion. What started off and should've remained a joyous day had turned into a day transporting the sick to the healer's tent that lasted well through the night.
Aiyana and Knoton, along with the chief and many other villagers hadn't a moment to rest, rushing to each infected person's aid at the slightest moan. Five more had fallen ill by sun down and by morning's first light, three more, this time grown men.
By the time Aiyana had the barest second to breath for the first time that morning, she approached Knoton who was crumpled at a bedside, eyes closed, his hand barely encasing a much smaller one.
A familiar form lay prostrate on the bed, beads of sweat streaking down his dark forehead. It was the little boy who had first alerted them of the sickness.
Aiyana wondered at Knoton. He wasn't exactly a stranger to her but still, his demeanor surprised her. How could a such a strong man, a chief such as he, be so gentle in manner? How was it that the fate of this tiny stranger had quickly become all that mattered within but a few hours?
The action made her heart ache; not only for the ill states of her people but also of fondness for her new husband. It felt wrong to feel such euphoria over realizing a tornado of feelings in the making while her tribe suffered. But she wasn't happy; she was in a dark mindset over the well-being of her people and Knoton was but a hopeful flame that would always be by her side. It was a comfort. His being there was a comfort.
She leaned down beside him, hand resting on his shoulder as she softly said, "Knoton."
He startled awake, meeting her tired eyes with his own, "What is wrong?"
Aiyana shook her head, "Nothing. You should go get some rest. In a proper bed."
"Are you too?"
Translating the meaning of Aiyana's silence it was Knoton's turn to shake his head, "Then I will rest when you do." He raised to his feet and pulled Aiyana up with him.
"Knoton, ple-"
He gave her a determined look, hands clasped with hers, "I am not leaving you." He squeezed her hands with a small smile. The moment was suddenly interrupted by a sharp gasp. Aiyana pulled her hands away and rushed towards the woman who had released the outburst. Her eyes were wide with panic, staring down at the still form in the cot beside her.
"What is it?" Aiyana urged, eyes frozen on the woman's horror stricken face.
"He-he's dead," she whispered in the silent tent, voice shaking with fear.
Aiyana took a moment to absorb and make sense of the woman's words before she thrust her hand over the sick man's mouth, waiting to feel a warm breath leave his lips.
But...nothing.
She moved her quivering palm to his neck, feeling for the blood pumping through his veins.
But nothing.
He was gone.
"Get every medicine man you can find," Aiyana ordered, her own blood pulsing loudly in her ears.
Following the chief's discovery of the deceased man, he called to gether his council comprised of elders and warriors to consult on the next course of action. They could not wait around for more people to die. The sickness was growing by the minute.
"Council," the chief announced in a booming voice, "I seek guidance at this most unfortunate time. The sickness is growing rapidly. It is apparent the Great Spirit is angry with us. I ask you for advice, what can we do to appease it?"
The crowd remained silent, distress written on each man's face as they tried to solve a riddle with an answer bigger than them. What could they do?
Chief Adoeete's eyes traveled across the crowd, searching in desperation for a solution.
Reluctantly an elderly medicine man spoke up, "We are powerless in this situation. If this sickness is the will of the Great Spirit then we must endure it. We must face it as the brave Multnomah people that we have always been."
Hope visably drained from the eyes of the council, most noticably from Adoeete. Was there really nothing they could do?
Another medicine man, this one much older than the previous. Adoeete did not recognize him. He may be of the Multnomah tribe but he had certainly not seen him during the wedding.
The old man hobbled with his walking stick towards the front of the crowd. His voice was rusty and was very nearly carried off by the wind but somehow everyone still heard him. "I am very old," he began, shifting on his feet, "but I still remember a secret my father told me many years past. He was once a great medicine man of Multnomah and he intrusted this secret to none but me.
"He told me many winters ago that once I was very old, a sickness would be cast on our people by the Great Spirit. Everyone would die, he said, unless a sacrifice was made. A daughter of a chief, a maiden both pure and innocent, must go to the highest cliff above the Big River and willingly give hersekf to the rocks below. Only then will the Great Spirit be satisfied.
"I can now die in peace," the old man continued, sitting upon the moist ground with a grunt, "for my father's secret has been shared."
A hard silence stretched throughout the crowd, no one daring to utter a word. Finally, Adoeete spoke up, "Gather every maiden her whose father or father before him was once a chief."
Aiyana, along with a handful of other young girls soon stood before the chief. He had just finished telling them what the medicine man had said and he was now peering out at them with a great sadness. He watched as fear screamed in each girl's eyes as they schooled their features into a brave indifference.
"I believe he speaks the truth," Adoeete finished.
A few girls near his daughter were trying to stop themselves from shaking but ultimately losing the war against their fears. His own daughter simply studied the ground, hands clasped together and head still held head high.
Adoeete closed his eyes and exhaled slowly, coming to a decision.
"Tell our people to meet death as brave people of Multnomah," he called. "These maidens shall not become sacrifices." He left, leaving the girls behind, his parting words feeling them with relief.
Their selfishness had saved them.
The sickness stayed.
Aiyana returned to the healer's tent and watched as her people passed on. She should end this.
She could end this.
But she was only fifteen. She didn't want to leave this world when her life was still so young.
But she could also save her people with the sacrifice of a single life.
Knoton was tending to the sick, casting constant worried glances towards the small boy. She wasn't sure how he was still living. Men three times his size had already passed on, so how was a boy no more than seven still breathing.
He wouldn't be for long though. Knoton knew it and so did Aiyana.
A loud crash sounded across the room that then exploded into coughs. Someone had fallen. Someone had the sickness. Aiyana clenched her eyes tight, fighting back tears as she knew who she would see when she turned.
She pried her eyelids open and peered out through blurred eyes to see just who she knew she would.
Knoton.
She sat with him through the day, caring for him, watching the light in his dark eyes die, bit by bit. Her heart, her mind, everything ached.
She was in love with him, she knew.
She had been wrong to be unsure. This wouldn't hurt so much if she wasn't sure.
She squeezed his calloused hand in hers, his fingers damp and limp. His hair was pasted to his forehead and there was, as there was in the boy, a redness coming over his features.
She had to save him.
She left as soon as the sun had set. She kissed Knoton upon the cheek and slipped out of the tent. From there, she hiked through the forest, brushing past dew struck ferns and navigating her way through rivets in an unmarked path.
The world was encased in total darkness by the time Aiyana had reached the highest part of the mountain. There was no moon, nor were there stars. Just eternal blackness.
Aiyana exhaled as she felt the cool breeze whisper against her skin. She turned her face up to the heavens and called to the Great Spirit.
"Great Spirit! I will sacrifice myself to you if you will promise me the restoration of health to my people. Please! Give me a sign! It is all I need as proof."
Aiyana waited for a few palpable moments, hoping both that the sign would come and that it would not. But suddenly, it appeared.
The moon, glowing a bright and ethereal blue glided across the sky. It was the color of water, the color of health.
It was a sign.
Aiyana took a single, last breath, chin held high...and jumped.
Chief Adoeete knew something was wrong as soon as he walked into the healer's tent after a long night filled with sorrow. Those who had been marked with sickness and survived were rising to their feet, any trace of illness far from their features.
"What has happened?" Adoeete heard a woman to his left whisper to herself. But they all knew the answer. A virgin had sacrificed herself.
"Gather the maidens again," the chief ordered the second he had left the tent. He prayed that what he was thinking was not true. It could not be.
But he knew deep down that it was.
The maidens were gathered, each face flooded with relief. But one was missing. And although their hearts would soon grieve, no one was surprised at the actions of she who had saved them.
They found her on the rocks within the Big River and they buried her on the highest cliff from which she had jumped. Adoeete, along with his people and the visiting tribes all grieved for the beautiful and forever giving Aiyana.
She had lived for her people and she had sacrificed herself to save them. Her name, her memory, and her sacrifice would always be remembered. Her life would be a story passed through generations.
But Adoeete wanted more. He wanted proof.
"Great Spirit!" the chief called up to the treacherous clear, blue sky once he was back in his village. "You have stolen both my daughter and son-in-law from me, please! I beg of you! Tell me that their spirits have joined all of the others!"
Just as with Aiyana, silence stretched on for a few heart rendering moments. But then the proof came.
A roar so great suddenly filled each persons ears and beckoned their attention upward.
There, from the highest cliff, came a flooding stream of water that streamed straight past them and into the Big River below. The water gleamed in the sun, reflecting and capturing brillant colors.
There was his proof.
A sorrowful but also very grateful snile met his lips.
Aiyana and Knoton had made it.
Years from when the waterfall first formed, the story of the great Multnomah people is still being told. The legend has withstood the test of time and has long since survived the long since passed tribe.
Legend has it that if you look close enough during the winter months, you can even see Aiyana at the edge of the forest, looking up at the long gone village that she once saved before she returns to Knoton's side in the spirit world.
A/N:
Name Meanings:
Aiyana- eternal
Knoton- wind
Adoeete- great chief
I know this is a pretty obscure Native American folktale but I actually grew up with this story, and the waterfall where it takes place, Multnomah Falls, was one of my favorite places to go when I was younger. Hopefully I did the original lore justice.
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