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Updated: May 28, 2025
A Tradition of the Origin of the Mythology of the Senecas. A Lox Legend. An Indian mischief maker was once roving about. He saw that he was approaching a village, and said, "How can I attract attention?" Seeing two girls coming from the wigwams, he pulled up a wild plum-bush and placed it upon his head, the roots clasping about his chin.
"Oh, I heard it and I felt it and it came thump upon my crown! Run down hill with me where you will be quite safe," said Fox Lox. "That I will!" cried Duck Luck. So they ran and they ran and they ran. Soon they met Drake Lake. "The sky is tumbling down, Drake Lake!" cried Duck Luck. "Who told you, Duck Luck?" "Oh, Cock Lock!" "Who told you, Cock Lock?" "Oh, Hen Ren!" "Who told you, Hen Ren?"
Now, albeit Lox had utterly abjured all the sinfulness of manhood, and had made a new departure in an utterly new direction, saying not a word thereof to any one, yet in a brief measure of time, one here, another there, Jack in a corner and Jane by the bush, began to whisper of a strange thing, and hint that all was not as it should be, and, whatever the chief might think, that in their minds matters were going wrong in his wigwam.
"Who told you, Drake Lake?" "Oh, Duck Luck!" "Who told you, Duck Luck?" "Oh, Cock Lock!" "Who told you, Cock Lock?" "Oh, Hen Ren!" "Who told you, Hen Ren?" "Oh, Chicker Ricker!" "Who told you, Chicker Ricker?" "Oh, Fox Lox!" "Who told you, Fox Lox?" "Oh, I heard it and I felt it and it came thump upon my crown! Run down hill with me where you will be quite safe," said Fox Lox.
Howbeit Lox, thinking that what was good for once must be good forever, made him his little pile of sticks and jumped over them. It was of no avail. Finally, when he had jumped twenty or thirty times more, there arose a little smoke, and, having his heart cheered by this, he kept on jumping. Now it is said that there can be no smoke without fire, but this time it went not beyond smoke.
The itching or pricking from which he suffers is also significant of that element, as appears, according to Keary, in many Norse, etc., legends. In the Seneca tale of the Mischief Maker, the Berries are distinctly declared to have souls. How Lox deceived the Ducks, cheated the Chief, and beguiled the Bear. Somewhere in the forest lived Lox, with a small boy, his brother.
The wind blew like knives; the snow fell; sleet, frost, hail, and rain seemed to come all together in bad company, and still Lox was not happy, although he had no blanket or fur coat beyond his own.
Now while they were sound asleep, Lox, the Wolverine, or Indian Devil, came prowling round. Some people say it was Hespuns, the Raccoon; and it is a fact that Master Coon can play a very close game of deviltry on his own account. However, this time it must have been Lox, as you can see by the tracks. While they were both sound asleep Lox looked in.
W. Wallace Brown has learned that Lox is definitely the king or chief of the wolves, and that many Indians deny that he is really an animal at all, though he assumes the forms of certain animals. He is a spirit, and the Mischief Maker. It will be admitted that this brings the Lox much nearer to Loki.
It may be objected that if the Norsemen in Greenland were Christians it is most unlikely that they would have taught the legends of the Edda to the heathen; to which I reply that some scholar a few centuries hence may declare it was a most improbable thing that Christian Roman Catholic Indians should have taught me the tales of Glooskap and Lox.
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