Below is a list
of Native Stories I truly Hope You Enjoy .Full Credit goes the writers
and not me .I only placed them here for those of you who journied to my
site could read them,as these stories are from books I have read
WHY THE CHIPMUNK HAS BLACK STRIPES
HOW DOGS CAME TO THE INDIANS
Two Ojibwa Indians in a canoe
had been blown far from shore by a great wind. They had gone
HOW FIRE CAME
TO THE SIX NATIONS
TAIL OF FIRE
THE FIRST MOCCASINS
WHY THE MOUSE IS SO SILKY
WHY THE OPOSSUM'S TAIL IS BARE
RABBIT SHOOTS THE SUN
SPIRIT ANIMAL
THE INDIAN & THE SNAKE
WHY THE WEASEL IS NERVOUS
THE GREAT FLOOD
THE ORIGIN OF THE WINDS
RABBIT AND THE MOON MAN
HONEYED WORDS CAN'T SWEETEN EVIL
THE GREAT FATHER MOSQUITO
THE ESKIMO INDIAN AND HIS FOX WIFE
THE LOON
THE RAVEN
Dreams are ours
* to love , to laugh, to be. .To come
HERE ARE THE TITLES OF SOME STORIES,PLEASE
SCROLL DOWN TO FIND THE STORY YOU WISH TO READ
•WHY THE CHIPMUNK HAS BLACK
STRIPES
HOW DOGS CAME TO THE INDIANS
HOW FIRE CAME TO THE SIX
NATIONS
TAIL OF FIRE
THE FIRST MOCCASINS
WHY THE MOUSE IS SO SILKY
WHY THE OPOSSUM'S TAIL
IS BARE
RABBIT SHOOTS THE SUN
SPIRIT ANIMAL
THE INDIAN & THE SNAKE
WHY THE WEASEL IS NERVOUS
THE GREAT FLOOD
THE ORIGIN OF THE WINDS
RABBIT AND THEMOON MAN
HONEYED WORDS CAN'T SWEETEN
EVIL
THE GREAT FATHER MOSQUITO
THE ESKIMO INDIAN AND HIS
FOX WIFE
THE LOON
THE RAVEN
DREAMS ARE OURS
Once upon a time, long ago, the animals had tribes
and chiefs just like the people. Porcupine was
the head chief of all the tribes because nothing
could ever get near enough to hurt him.
One night, Porcupine sent out word calling all
the animals together for a great council of the
tribes. He had a very important matter for them
to consider, he said. From far and wide, from
treetops and holes in the ground, the animals
came hurrying in answer to their chieftain's
summons.
They built a great blazing council fire in the
forest and seated themselves around in a big ring.
Then Porcupine stood up to address them. His
quills quivered and gleamed in the firelight, and
for a minute or two, he did not speak. He looked
very much worried indeed.
"I cannot decide," he said, finally. "I cannot
decide whether or we shall have night or daylight all
the time."
Well, that started a great commotion. Everyone
had something different to say. Some wanted it
daytime always and some wanted it night. They
all talked at once, and they all talked very loud
so you could not hear what any of them were saying,
except Bear. He rocked to and fro on his
hind legs, trying to drown out the others by
rumbling in a big deep voice, "Always night! Always
night! Always night!"
A little chipmunk who had been sitting on the
outskirts of the council became annoyed.
Chipmunks hate to sit still for any time. "You
can talk all you like," he shrilled out in his tiny
squeaky voice. "You can talk all you like, but
the light will come whether you want it or not. The
light will come."
The other animals did not pay any attention to
him but went on bawling and roaring and
growling until they were hoarse. Chipmunk danced
with excitement on the outskirts of the crowd
shrieking, "The light will come! The light will
come!"
And before they knew it, a faint flush had crept
up the sky, and the golden disc of the sun rose
above the tree-tops. Shafts of sunlight touched
the tops of the open space where the council met.
The fire looked weak and pale. It was daylight.
An astonished silence settled upon the gathered
council of the animals. Could it be possible that
it was daylight whether they wished it or not?
A shrill voice suddenly piped up from the edge
of the assembly.
"What did I tell..."
"Grrrrr!"
Chipmunk was gone like a flash through the trees
with Bear after him. Bear was clumsy and
Chipmunk so quick that he slipped into a hold
in a tree before Bear could catch him. But, just
before he disappeared, Bear struck at him with
his paw.
The black stripes that run down the chipmunk's
sides today show where Bear's claws hit him
long ago at the council when the animals tried
to decide whether they should have darkness or
daylight all the time.
far and were hungry and lost. They had little
strength left to paddle, so they drifted before the
wind. At last their canoe was blown onto a beach
and they were glad, but not for long. Looking
for the tracks of animals, they saw some huge
footprints which they knew must be those of a
giant. They were afraid and hid in the bushes.
As they crouched low, a big arrow thudded into
the ground close beside them. Then a huge giant
came toward them. A caribou hung from his
belt, but the man was so big that it looked like
a rabbit. He told them that he did not hurt people
and he like to be a friend to little people,
who seemed to the giant to be so helpless.
He asked the two lost Indians to come home with
him, and since they had no food and their
weapons had been lost in the storm at sea, they
were glad to go with him. An evil Windigo spirit
came to the lodge of the giant and told the two
men that the giant had other men hidden away in
the forest because he like to eat them. The
Windigo
pretended to be a friend, but he was the one
who wanted the men because he was an eater of
people. The Windigo became very angry when
the giant would not give him the two men, and
finally the giant became angry too. He took a big
stick and turned over a big bowl with it. A strange
animal which the Indians had never seen
before lay on the floor, looking up at them.
It looked like a wolf to them, but the giant called the
animal 'Dog.' The giant told him to kill the
evil Windigo spirit. The beast sprang to its feet,
shook himself, and started to grow, and grow,
and grow. The more he shook himself, the more
he grew and the fiercer he became. He sprang
at the Windigo and killed him; then the dog grew
smaller and smaller and crept under the bowl.
The giant saw that the Indians were much surprised
and please with Dog and said that he would
give it to them, though it was his pet. He told
the men that he would command Dog to take them
home. They had no idea how this could be done,
though they had seen that the giant was a maker
of magic, but they thanked the friendly giant
for his great gift. The giant took the men and the
dog to the seashore and gave the dog a command.
At once it began to grow bigger and bigger,
until it was nearly as big as a horse. The giant
put the two men onto the back of the dog and told
them to hold on very tightly. As Dog ran into
the sea, he grew still bigger and when the water
was deep enough he started to swim strongly away
from the shore.
After a very long time, the two Ojibwa
began to see a part of the seacoast which they knew, and
soon the dog headed for shore. As he neared the
beach, he became smaller and smaller so that
the Indians had to swim for the last part of
their journey. The dog left them close to their lodges
and disappeared into the forest. When the men
told their tribe of their adventure, the people
though that the men were speaking falsely. "Show
us even the little mystery animal, Dog, and we
shall believe you," a chief said.
A few moons came and went and then, one morning
while the tribe slept, the dog returned to the
two men. It allowed them to pet it and took food
from their hands. The tribe was very much
surprised to see this new creature. It stayed
with the tribe.
That, as the Indians tell, was how the first
dog came to the earth.
-- An Ojibwa story, thanks
to Harold Stein
Often, around the fire in the long house of the
Iroquois, during the Moon of the Long Nights, this
tale is told.
Three Arrows was a boy of the Mohawk
tribe. Although he had not yet seen fourteen winters he
was already known among the Iroquois for his
skill and daring. His arrows sped true to their
mark. His name was given him when with three
bone-tipped
arrows he brought down three
flying wild geese from the same flock. He could
travel in the forest as softly as the south wind
and he was a skillful hunter, but he never killed
a bird or animal unless his clan needed food. He
was well-versed in woodcraft,
fleet of foot, and a clever wrestler. His people said, 'Soon he will
be a chief like his father.' The sun shone strong
in the heart of Three Arrows, because soon he
would have to meet the test of strength and endurance
through which the boys of his clan
attained manhood. He had no fear of the outcome
of the dream fast which was so soon to take.
His father was a great chief and a good man,
and the boy's life had been patterned after that of
his father.
When the grass was knee-high,
Three Arrows left his village with his father. They climbed to a
sacred place in the mountains. They found a narrow
cave at the back of a little plateau. Here
Three Arrows decided to live for his few days
of prayer and vigil. He was not permitted to eat
anything during the days and nights of his dream
fast. He had no weapons, and his only clothing
was a breechclout and moccasins.
His father left the boy with the promise that he would visit
him each day that the ceremony lasted, at dawn.
Three Arrows prayed to the Great Spirit. He begged
that soon his clan spirit would appear in a
dream and tell him what his guardian animal or
bird was to be. When he knew this, he would
adopt that bird or animal as his special guardian
for the rest of his life. When the dream came he
would be free to return to his people, his dream
fast successfully achieved.
For five suns Three Arrows spent his days and
nights on the rocky plateau, only climbing down
to the little spring for water after each sunset.
His heart was filled with a dark cloud because that
morning his father had sadly warned him that
the next day, the sixth sun, he must return to his
village even if no dream had come to him in the
night. This meant returning to his people in
disgrace without the chance of taking another
dream fast.
That night Three Arrows, weak from hunger and
weary from ceaseless watch, cried out to the
Great Mystery. 'O Great Spirit, have pity on
him who stands humbly before Thee. Let his clan
spirit or a sign from beyond the thunderbird
come to him before tomorrow's sunrise, if it be Thy
will.' As he prayed, the wind suddenly veered
from east to north. This cheered Three Arrows
because the wind was now the wind of the great
bear, and the bear was the totem of his clan.
When he entered the cavern he smelled for the
first time the unmistakable odor of a bear: this
was strong medicine. He crouched at the opening
of the cave, too excited to lie down although
his tired body craved rest. As he gazed out into
the night he heard the rumble of thunder, saw the
lightning flash, and felt the fierce breath of
the wind from the north. Suddenly a vision came to
him, and a gigantic bear stood beside him in
the cave. Then Three Arrows heard it say, 'Listen
well, Mohawk. Your clan spirit
has heard your prayer. Tonight you will learn a great mystery
which will bring help and gladness to all your
people.' A terrible clash of thunder brought the
dazed boy to his feet as the bear disappeared.
He looked from the cave just as a streak of
lightning flashed across the sky in the form
of a blazing arrow. Was this the sign from the
thunderbird ?
Suddenly the air was filled with a fearful sound.
A shrill shrieking came from the ledge just
above the cave. It sounded as though mountain
lions fought in the storm; yet Three Arrows felt
no fear as he climbed toward the ledge. As his
keen eyes grew accustomed to the dim light he
saw that the force of the wind was causing two
young balsam trees to rub violently against each
other. The strange noise was caused by friction,
and as he listened and watched fear filled his
heart, for, from where the two trees rubbed together
a flash of lightning showed smoke.
Fascinated, he watched until flickers of flames
followed the smoke. He had never seen fire of
any kind at close range nor had any of his people.
He scrambled down to the cave and covered
his eyes in dread of this strange magic. Then
he smelt bear again and he thought of his vision, his
clan spirit, the bear, and its message. This
was the mystery which he was to reveal to his people.
The blazing arrow in the sky was to be his totem,
and his new name - Blazing Arrow.
At daybreak, Blazing Arrow climbed onto the ledge
and broke two dried sticks from what
remained of one of the balsams. He rubbed them
violently together, but nothing happened. 'The
magic is too powerful for me,' he thought. Then
a picture of his clan and village formed in his
mind, and he patiently rubbed the hot sticks
together again. His will power took the place of his
tired muscles. Soon a little wisp of smoke greeted
his renewed efforts, then came a bright spark
on one of the stick. Blazing Arrow waved it as
he had seen the fiery arrow wave in the night sky.
A resinous blister on the stick glowed, then
flamed - fire had come to the Six Nations !
-- An Iroquois story, thanks to Harold Stein
So long ago that the time could not be counted
by suns or moons, a band of Cowichan Indians
was drying deer meat in the sun. They spoke of
how good it would be if they only had a small
sun to warm them when the big sun left to let
darkness come. They thought that they would
never get that thing because what they wanted
would take much power and magic, more than
even their most powerful shamans had.
As the people wished and talked, a little bird
chirped loudly close by. It flew close to the people
and they saw that it was a beautiful brown bird
with a bright red tail which seemed to flicker
even when the bird sat still. The bird looked
down on the Indians from a branch just over their
heads.
'What do you want, little bird?' asked an old
man who had power to speak with birds.
'Nothing do I wish, Wise One, but I bring you
what you wish,' it replied. 'I have something which
is called fire on my tail, which is hot like
a small sun. It will comfort you when the winds of
winter blow, cook your meat, and bring cheer
when the sun has gone, but it must be earned. Tell
your tribe to meet me here when the sun comes
again and ask each one to bring a little dry
branch with pitch pine on it.'
Before the people could ask why, the bird suddenly
disappeared. 'We should obey the wishes of
that bird,' the old man counseled. 'It may bring
much good fortune to us.'
When the sun shone again, the people awaited
the coming of the bird. Each carried a pine branch
with pitch pine on it, as they had been told.
A loud tweet made the people look upward. The
brown bird sat on a branch above their heads,
though nobody had seen it come. It asked in a
language that all understood, 'Are you ready?'
They answered, 'Yes!'
'Then you must follow me, and the one who first
catches up with me will be given fire, but only
if the one who does so is one who does right,
is patient, and tries hard without losing courage.
Come!'
The bird flew off over rough ground and thick
forest. The chase proved too hard for many and
they gave up. Over fast-flowing
streams and dangerous marshes and swamps, the bird flew.
More and more of the people had neither the strength
nor courage to keep on and they were
forced to drop out of the chase. 'Too hard!'
'Too difficult!' 'Too dangerous!' they gasped as they
fell on the ground to rest.
At last one young warrior got close enough to
call to the bird, 'Give me of your fire, little bird. I
have followed you far and well and I have done
no wrong.'
'It is not as you say,' said the bird, flying
higher and faster than before. 'You think only of
yourself. That is bad. You shall not have my
fire.'
A second young man caught up with the bird. 'Share
your fire with me,' he called. 'I am a good
man.'
'A good man does not take that which belongs
to another,' the bird answered, flying faster and
faster. Soon, seeing it was no longer followed,
the bird flew to the ground and perched beside a
woman who was nursing an old man who looked very
sick. 'Bring a dry branch with pitch pine
on it,' said the brown bird. 'Fire have I on
my tail and you shall have it. It will keep your sick man
warm and cook your food.'
The woman was afraid of a bird that could speak.
When she found her voice, she said, 'You are
good, little one, but I deserve not a magic gift.
What I do, I do because it is right. The inner voice
tells me that I must take care of one who is
sick.'
'Much good I know you do,' said the bird, 'and
it is greater good than that done by many people
because the good you do, you think is only your
duty. Come, bring a branch and take of my fire.
You think first of others, so you may share the
gift with them.'
The woman gladly brought a branch and lit it
at the little fire which flickered on the bird's tail.
Since that time, the Indians have had fire.
-- A Cowichan Story, thanks
to Harold Stein
There was once a great chief of the Plans who
had very tender feet. Other mighty chiefs laughed
at him; little chiefs only smiled as he hobbled
past; and though they did not dare to smile, the
people of the tribe also enjoyed the big chief's
discomfort. All of them were in the same canoe,
having no horses and only bare feet, but luckily
very few of them had tender feet. The unhappily
medicine man who was advisor to the Chief-of-the-
Tender-Feet was afraid and troubled. Each
time he was called before the chief he was asked,
'What are you going to do about it?" The 'it'
meant the chief's tender feet.
Forced by fear, the medicine man at last hit
upon a plan. Though he knew that it was not the real
answer to the chief's foot problem, nevertheless
it was a good makeshift. The medicine man had
some women of the tribe weave a long, narrow
mat of reeds, and when the big chief had to go
anywhere, four braves unrolled the mat in front
of him so that he walked in comfort. One day,
the braves were worn out from seeing that the
chief's feet were not worn out. They carelessly
unrolled the mat over a place where flint arrowheads
had been chipped. The arrowheads had
long ago taken flight, but the needle-sharp
chips remained. When the big chief's tender feet were
wounded by these chips, he uttered a series of
whoops which made the nearby aspen tree leaves
quiver so hard that they have been trembling
ever since.
That night the poor medicine man was given an
impossible task by the angry chief: 'Cover the
whole earth with mats so thick that my feet will
not suffer. If you fail, you will die when the
moon is round.'
The frightened maker of magic crept back to his
lodge. He did not wish to be put to death on the
night of the full moon, but he could think of
no way to avoid it. Suddenly he saw the hide of an
elk which he had killed pegged to the ground,
with two women busily scraping the hair from the
hide, and an idea flashed into his groping mind.
He sent out many hunters; many women were
busy for many days; many braves with hunting
knives cut, and women sewed with bone needles
and rawhide sinews.
On the day before the moon was round, the medicine
man went to the chief and told him that he
had covered as much of the earth as was possible
in so short a time. When the chief looked from
the door of his lodge, he saw many paths of skin
stretching as far as he could see. Long strips
which could be moved from place to place connected
the main leather paths. Even the chief
thought that this time the magic of the medicine
man had solved tenderfoot transportation for all
time - but this was not to be !
One day, as the big chief was walking along one
of his smooth, tough leather paths, he saw a
pretty maiden of the tribe gliding ahead of him,
walking on the hard earth on one side of the
chief's pathway. She glanced back when she heard
the pitter- patter of his feet on the elk hide
pathway and seemed to smile. The chief set off
on the run to catch up with her, his eyes fixed on
the back of She-Who-Smiled,
and so his feet strayed from the narrow path and landed in a bunch
of needle-sharp thorns! The
girl ran for her life when she heard the hideous howls of the chief,
and Indians in the distant village thought that
they were being attacked by wildcats.
Two suns later, when the chief was calm enough
to speak again, he had his medicine man
brought before him and told the unhappy man that
next day, when the sun was high, he would be
sent with all speed to the land of shadows.
That night, the medicine man climbed to the top
of a high hill in search of advice from friendly
spirits on how to cover the entire earth with
leather. He slept, and in a dream vision he was
shown the answer to his problem. Amid vivid flashes
of lightning, he tore down the steep
hillside, howling louder than the big chief at
times, as jagged rocks wounded his bare feet and
legs. He did not stop until he was safely inside
his lodge. He worked all night and until the
warriors who were to send him on the shadow trail
came for him, just before noon the next day.
He was surrounded by the war-club
armed guards. He was clutching close to his heart something
tightly rolled in a piece of deerskin. His cheerful
smile surprised those who saw him pass. 'Wah,
he is brave!' said the men of the tribe. 'He
is very brave!' said the women of the tribe.
The big chief was waiting just outside his lodge.
He gave the guards swift, stern orders. Before
the maker of magic could be led away, he asked
leave to say a few words to the chief. 'Speak!'
said the chief, sorry to lose a clever medicine
man who was very good at most kinds of magic.
Even the chief knew that covering the entire
earth with leather was an impossible task.
The medicine man quickly knelt beside the chief,
unrolled the two objects which he took from
his bundle and slipped one of them on each foot
of the chief. The chief seemed to be wearing a
pair of bear's hairless feet, instead of bare
feet, and he was puzzled at first as he looked at the elk
hide handicraft of his medicine man. 'Big chief,'
the medicine man exclaimed joyfully, 'I have
found the way to cover the earth with leather!
For you, O chief, from now on the earth will
always be covered with leather.' And so it was.
-- A Plains Indian story, thanks to Harold Stein
One day, on his wanderings in the land of the
Swampy Cree, Wesukechak, know as Bitter Spirit,
saw a big, round stone lying beside the rocky
path. Because Bitter Spirit could talk and
understand the language of nature, he always
spoke to the birds and beasts and many other
things. Now he spoke to the stone. 'Can you run
fast?' he asked.
'Oh, yes,' answered the stone. 'Once I get started,
I can run very fast.'
'Good!' Bitter Spirit cried. "Then you must race
me.'
'I will,' answered the stone, 'if you can push
me to where I can start.'
With great difficulty, the maker of magic did
so, and without waiting, the stone started to roll
downhill, going faster and faster.
Wesukechak caught up with
it almost at ground level and mocked it as he ran past. 'You are a
turtle,' he laughed. 'You cannot travel fast.'
The stone was very angry but did not reply.
Bitter Spirit ran and ran until he was so tired
that he fell down on his face and slept soundly. The
stone caught up with him at last and rolled up
his legs and then onto his back, where it was
stopped by his shoulders. It could roll no further.
Being a big and very heavy stone, it held Bitter
Spirit on the ground so that he could not move.
The maker of magic had awakened in pain when
the stone rolled onto his legs but he could not
escape in time. 'Roll off my back, stone,' he
shouted angrily. 'You are heavy; I hurt, and
I cannot move.'
'You mocked me when you passed me,' said the
stone, 'but you see I have caught up with you.
Now that I have stopped, I cannot move until
someone sets me rolling again. I must stay here.'
For many, many moons, the stone rested on the
back of Bitter Spirit and the make of magic
could not help himself to get free. At last,
Thunder decided to send some of his bolts of lightning
to smash the stone and set Bitter Spirit free.
'And so, O stone, you are punished for holding
me here so long,' cried the wondermaker as he
continued on his way.
His clothes had been torn and worn, so Bitter
Spirit threw them into a bark lodge which he saw
nearby, ordering that they be mended. They were
thrown outside so quickly and had been so well
repaired that Bitter Spirit cried out in surprise.
'Who are you in that lodge? Come out, so that I
may see and reward you.' The maker of magic was
much surprised when he saw a lithe mouse
creep out of the lodge. It was an ugly, fat,
rough-haired
little creature in those days, with a short,
stubby nose.
Bitter Spirit picked the mouse up very gently
and stroked its little blunt nose until it became
pointed. 'Now you will be able to smell out your
food better,' he said.
Next, he brushed and combed its rough hair with
his fingers until the hairs of the little creature
became soft as down and smooth as the fur of
an otter. 'Now you will be able to run more easily
into little holes in tree trunks when your enemies
come,' Wesukechak said, and so it was.
To this day, the mouse is soft and furry and
it sniffs daintily with its long nose.
-- Thanks to Harold Stein
It must be remembered that the animals which
appear in Indian myths and legends are not the
same as those which exist now. When the world
began, animals were much bigger, stronger and
cleverer than their present counterparts but,
because of man's cruelty and aggression, these left
the earth and took the rainbow path to Galunlati,
the Sky Land, where they still remain. The
animals which came after them - those we know
today - are but poor, weak imitations of those
first creatures.
In the beginning, before this happened, all living
things - men, animals, plants and trees - spoke
the same language and behaved in much the same
way. Animals, like people, were organized
into tribes. They had chiefs, lived in houses,
held councils and ceremonies.
Many animals had characteristics which we would
not recognize today. The rabbit, for example,
was fierce, bold and cunning, and a great mischief
maker. It was through Rabbit's tricks that
the deer lost his sharp wolf-like
teeth, the buzzard his handsome topknot of feathers and the
opossum his long, bushy tail.
Opossum was very proud of his tail which, in
those days, was covered with thick black fur. He
spent long hours cleaning and brushing it and
composing songs about its beauty and vigor.
Sometimes, when he walked through the village,
he carried his tail erect, like a banner rippling
in the breeze. At other times, he swept it low
behind him, like a train. It was useful as well as
beautiful, for when Opossum lay down to sleep,
he tucked it under him to make a soft bed, and
in cold weather he folded it over his body to
keep himself warm.
Rabbit was very jealous of Opossum's tail. He,
too, had once had a long bushy tail but, during the
course of a fight with Bear, he had lost most
of it and now had only a short fluffy tuft. The sight
of Opossum strutting before the other animals
and swirling his tail ostentatiously, filled Rabbit
with rage and he made up his mind to play a trick
on him at the first opportunity.
At this time, when the animals still lived harmoniously
together, each had his appointed station
and duty. Thus, Frog was leader in the council
and Rabbit, because of his speed, was employed
to carry messages and announcements to the others.
As was their custom from time to time, the animals
decided to hold a great council to discuss
important matters and Rabbit, as usual, was given
the task of arranging the gathering and
delivering the invitations. Councils were also
occasions for feasting and dancing and Rabbit saw
a way of bringing about Opossum's downfall.
When Rabbit arrived with the news of the meeting,
Opossum was sitting by the door of his lodge
engaged in his favorite occupation - grooming
his tail.
'I come to call you to the great council tomorrow,
brother Opossum,' said Rabbit. 'Will you
attend and join in the dance ?'
'Only if I am given a special seat,' replied
the conceited Opossum, carefully smoothing some
untidy hairs at the tip of his tail. 'After all,'
he went on, grinning maliciously at Rabbit, 'I have
such a beautiful long tail that I ought to sit
where everyone can see and admire it.'
Rabbit was almost beside himself with fury, but
he pretended not to notice the jibe and said, 'But
of course, brother Opossum! I will personally
see to it that you have the best seat in the council
lodge, and I will also send someone to dress
your tail specially for the dance.'
Opossum was delighted by this suggestion and
Rabbit left him
singing the praises of his tail even more loudly
than usual.
Next, Rabbit called on the cricket, whom Indians
call the barber, because of his fame as an
expert hair-cutter. Cricket
listened with growing amazement as Rabbit recounted his
conversation with Opossum. Like all the other
animals, he found Opossum's vanity and
arrogance very tiresome.
He began to protest, but Rabbit held up a paw
and said, 'Wait a moment. I have a plan and I need
your help. Listen...', and he dropped his voice
as he told Cricket what he wanted him to do.
Early next morning Cricket presented himself
at Opossum's door and said that he had been sent
by Rabbit to prepare the famous tail for the
council that evening. Opossum made himself
comfortable on the floor and stretched out his
tail. Cricket began to comb it gently.
'I will wrap this red cord round your tail as
I comb it,' he explained, 'so that it will remain smooth
and neat for the dance tonight.'
Opossum found Cricket's ministrations so soothing
that he fell asleep, awakening just as Cricket
was tying the final knot in the red cord which
now completely swathed his tail.
'I will keep it bound up until the very last
moment,' thought Opossum gleefully. 'How envious the
others will be when I finally reveal it in all
its beauty!'
That evening, his tail still tightly wrapped
in the red cord, Opossum marched into the council
lodge and was led to his special seat by a strangely
obsequious Rabbit.
Soon it was time for the dancing to take place.
The drums and rattles began to sound. Opossum
stood up, loosened the cord from his tail and
stepped proudly into the center of the dance floor.
He began to sing.
'Look at my beautiful tail!' he sang as he circled
the floor. 'See how it sweeps the ground!'
There was a great shout from the audience and
some of the animals began to applaud. 'How they
admire me!' though Opossum and he continued dancing
and singing loudly. 'See how my tail
gleams in the firelight!'
Again everyone shouted and cheered. Opossum began
to have just the merest suspicion that all
was not quite as it should be. Was there possibly
a hint of mockery in their voices ? He dismissed
such an absurd idea and continued dancing.
'My tail is stronger than the eagle's, more lustrous
than the raven's!'
At this the animals shrieked so loudly that Opossum
stopped in his tracks and looked at them. To
his astonishment and chagrin they were all convulsed
with laughter, some leaning weakly on
their neighbor's shoulders, others rolling on
the ground in their mirth. Several were pointing at
his tail.
Bewildered, Opossum looked down and saw to his
horror that his tail, his beautiful, thick, glossy
tail, was now balk and scaly like that of a lizard.
Nothing remained of its former glory. While
pretending to comb it, the wily Cricket had snipped
off every single lair.
Opossum was so overcome with shame and confusion
that he could not utter a sound. Instead he
rolled over helplessly on his back, grimacing
with embarrassment, just as opossums still do
today, when taken by surprise.
-- A Cherokee story, thanks to Harold Stein
It was the height of summer, the time of year
called Hadotso, the Great Heat. All day long, from
a blue and cloudless sky, the blazing sun beat
down upon the earth. No rain had fallen for many
days and there was not the slightest breath of
wind to cool the stifling air. Everything was hot
and dry. Even the rose-red
cliffs of the canyons and mesas seemed to take on a more brilliant
color than before.
The animals drooped with misery. They were parched
and hungry, for it was too hot to hunt for
food and, panting heavily, they sought what shade
they could under the rocks and bushes.
Rabbit was the unhappiest of all. Twice that
day the shimmering heat had tempted him across
the baked earth towards visions of water and
cool, shady trees. He had exhausted himself in his
desperate attempts to reach them, only to find
the mirages dissolve before him, receding further
and further into the distance.
Now, tired and wretched, he dragged himself into
the shadow of an overhanging rock and
crouched there listlessly. His soft fur was caked
with the red dust of the desert. His head swam
and his eyes ached from the sun's glare.
'Why does it have to be so hot?' he groaned.
'What have we done to deserve such torment?' He
squinted up at the sun and shouted furiously,
'Go away! You are making everything too hot!'
Sun took no notice at all and continued to pour
down his fiery beams, forcing Rabbit to retreat
once more into the shade of the rock. 'Sun needs
to be taught a lesson,' grumbled Rabbit. 'I have
a good mind to go and fight him. If he refuses
to stop shining, I will kill him!'
His determination to punish Sun made him forget
his weariness and, in spite of the oppressive
heat, he set off at a run towards the eastern
edge of the world where the Sun came up each
morning.
As he ran, he practiced with his bow and arrows
and, to make himself brave and strong, he
fought with everything which crossed his path.
He fought with the gophers and the lizards. He
hurled his throwing stick at beetles, ants and
dragonflies. He shot at the yucca and the giant
cactus. He became a very fierce rabbit indeed.
By the time he reached the edge of the world,
Sun had left the sky and was nowhere to be seen.
'The coward!' sneered Rabbit. 'He is afraid to
fight, but he will not escape me so easily,' and he
settled to wait behind a clump of bushes.
In those days, Sun did not appear slowly as he
does now. Instead he rushed up over the horizon
and into the heavens with one mighty bound. Rabbit
knew that he would have to act quickly in
order to ambush him and he fixed his eyes intently
on the spot where the Sun usually appeared.
Sun, however, had heard all Rabbit's threats
and had watched him fighting. He knew that he was
lying in wait among the bushes. He was not at
all afraid of this puny creature and he thought that
he might have some amusement at his expense.
He rolled some distance away from his usual place
and swept up into the sky before Rabbit knew
what was happening. By the time Rabbit had gathered
his startled wits and released his
bowstring, Sun was already high above him and
out of range.
Rabbit stamped and shouted with rage and vexation.
Sun laughed and laughed and shone even
more fiercely than before.
Although almost dead from heat, Rabbit would
not give up. Next morning he tried again, but this
time Sun came up in a different place and evaded
him once more.
Day after day the same thing happened. Sometimes
Sun sprang up on Rabbit's right, sometimes
on his left and sometimes straight in front of
him, but always where Rabbit least expected him.
One morning, however, Sun grew careless. He rose
more leisurely than usual, and this time,
Rabbit was ready. Swiftly he drew his bow. His
arrow whizzed through the air and buried itself
deep in Sun's side.
Rabbit was jubilant! At last he had shot his
enemy! Wild with joy, he leaped up and down. He
rolled on the ground, hugging himself. He turned
somersaults. He looked at Sun again - and
stopped short.
Where his arrow had pierced Sun, there was a
gaping wound and, from that wound, there gushed
a stream of liquid fire. Suddenly it seemed as
if the whole world had been set ablaze. Flames
shot up and rushed towards Rabbit, crackling
and roaring.
Rabbit paused not a moment longer. He took to
his heels in panic and ran as fast as he could
away from the fire. He spied a lone cottonwood
tree and scuttled towards it.
'Everything is burning!' he cried. 'Will you
shelter me?'
The cottonwood shook its slender branches mournfully.
'What can I do?' it asked. 'I will be
burned to the ground.'
Rabbit ran on. Behind him, the flames were coming
closer. He could feel their breath on his
back. A greasewood tree lay
in his path.
'Hide me! Hide me!' Rabbit gasped. 'The fire
is coming.'
'I cannot help you,' answered the greasewood
tree. 'I will be burned up roots and branches.'
Terrified and almost out of breath, Rabbit continued
to run, but his strength was failing. He
could feel the fire licking at his heels and
his fur was beginning to singe. Suddenly he heard a
voice calling to him.
'Quickly, come under me! The fire will pass over
me so swiftly that it will only scorch my top.'
It was the voice of a small green bush with flowers
like bunches of cotton capping its thin
branches. Gratefully, Rabbit dived below it and
lay there quivering, his eyes tightly shut, his ears
flat against his body.
With a thunderous roar, the sheet of flame leaped
overhead. The little bush crackled and sizzled.
Then, gradually, the noise receded and everything
grew quiet once more.
Rabbit raised his head cautiously and looked
around. Everywhere the earth lay black and
smoking, but the fire had passed on. He was safe!
The little bush which had sheltered him was no
longer green. Burned and scorched by the fire, it
had turned a golden yellow. People now call it
the desert yellow brush, for, although it first
grows green, it always turns yellow when it feels
the heat of the sun.
Rabbit never recovered from his fright. To this
day, he bears brown spots where the fire scorched
the back of his neck. He is no longer fierce
and quarrelsome, but runs and hides at the slightest
noise.
As for Sun, he too was never quite the same.
He now makes himself so bright that no one can
look at him long enough to sight an arrow and
he always peers very warily over the horizon
before he brings his full body into view.
As scouts we often visit the woods, but don't
really spend a lot of time in the wilderness,
especially not alone. One often wonders what
it would be like to spend long periods of time
alone in the woods. Could you cope?
Our native Indians believe that one advantage
to spending time alone in the wilderness, is that
you might meet your spirit animal. They believe
that everyone has their own specific spirit
animal, and to meet your spirit animal is to
make your life more complete. An Indian might be
canoeing alone across a lake, when he spies a
bear on the shore. And as the bear looks into his
eyes, he'll just know, that that's his spirit
animal. Of course you can only meet your spirit animal
when you're alone.
One kind of white man often spends a lot of time
in the bush, and that's a trapper. It's a very
lonely existence, spending weeks on the trap
lines, as you go from lake to lake, trail to trail,
collecting furs. They tell the story of one particular
trapper who worked in the Haliburton area.
One evening he was sitting near his campfire
enjoying his coffee just after sundown. He'd had a
good day, a lot of good furs, and now he was
almost ready for bed. He stared into the embers of
the campfire as it slowly faded away, thinking
of how bright the fire was and how it always
made the surrounding area look so very dark.
He thought he saw something at the edge of the
fire.... No it was nothing. Then he saw it again.
At the edge of the firelight was a raccoon, sitting
very still and staring at him. ''That's odd'', he
thought, ''this isn't how raccoons normally act.''
He hissed at the raccoon, but it wouldn't go away.
So he ignored it for a little why, expecting
it would move on. After a few minutes he glanced
back, and the raccoon was still there staring
at him with those eerie animal eyes. This time he
picked up a rock and threw it at the raccoon.
''WHAT!!?'', he thought, ''I could have sworn I hit
that coon!'', but the rock seemed to have passed
through the animal.
The trapper was now getting very nervous. He
completely ignored the spot where the raccoon
had been (or maybe still was). He put out the
fire, and headed in darkness for his tent, the half
full moon in the clear sky illuminating the way.
''A good night's sleep and everything will be fine
in the morning'', he thought. Something caught
his eye and his head jerked sharply to the right.
There it was on the side of path: the raccoon,
sitting still and staring at the trapper. He ignored
and it and quickly turned away. BUT there it
was on his left now. He hurried on to the tent now,
only a few yards away, looking only at this feet.
As he reached the tent he glanced up. THERE
IT WAS. the raccoon sitting between him and his
tent!
About three weeks later they found him running
through the woods, nearly naked and his body
had been heavily bruised and torn. He'd been
living like a wild savage, eating dirt or leaves, even
worse than most animals. Although he spent the
next twenty years in an insane asylum, he never
regained the use of his mind. Some say he just
snapped after spending too much time alone,
especially in the woods............. Some think
he met his spirit animal.
-- Thanks to Blair Madore,
University of Waterloo, Canada
As a young boy, often times, Indians are sent
away, in search of a vision. This was the case of
this one particular young Indian boy. He started
to go up to the top of the mountain in search of
his vision ... And as he climbed up the mountain,
the air got cooler and cooler ... And he came
upon a snake laying in the path. The snake was
shivering, and said to the young Indian boy.
"Please help me ... I can't move, I am so cold
that I can no longer make it any further down the
mountain." The young Indian boy said to the snake
"No way! You're a snake, if I pick you up,
you'll bite me!" The snake replied ... "No, no
I won't, I promise I won't bite you if you'll only pick
me up and help get me down the mountain..." So
the young Indian boy picked up the snake, put
him in his shirt, continued climbing to the top
of the mountain in search of his vision ... When he
got back down to the bottom of the mountain,
he reached in, took out the snake, and the snake
bit this young Indian boy. The boy replied to
the snake "Hey! You bit me, you said that if I'd help
you out, that you wouldn't bite me!" the snake
replied to the young Indian boy ... "But you knew
what I was when you picked me up!"
-- Thanks to Brad George
The weasel, Sihkooseu, once
played a bad trick on the Bitter Spirit, Wesukechak. That is whey
they are not friends.
The important chief Bright Nose, Wastasekoot,
of the Swampy Cree tribe, had a lovely daughter
who was admired by many chiefs who wished to
marry her. Though she loved one of the chiefs,
here father decided to hold a council and the
first chief to guess her secret name could marry her.
She agreed because the thought that the only
one who knew her name was the one she loved.
Bitter Spirit decided to enter the contest with
everyone else. Since he did not know her name, he
made a plan to discover it. He went to the old
net maker, the spider, and asked him to call on the
girl and, by some trick, discover her name. Spider
agreed. He climbed a tall tree, spun a long
thread, and floated on it until he neared the
camp of the chief with the beautiful daughter. Then
he floated down onto the top of the chief's wigwam,
peeped down, and saw the father and
daughter talking about the contest, and heard
the chief whisper to his daughter, 'Nobody will
ever guess that your secret name is For-ever-and-
ever.' In this way, the Spider discovered her
name. He was very pleased with himself at learning
this so soon, and set off to tell his friend.
Spider walked many days through the forest because
there was no suitable flying wind. He began
to worry that he would arrive back too late.
Then he saw the weasel and begged his help. He
asked Weasel to hurry and tell Bitter Spirit
the girl's secret name and Weasel agreed. But as
Weasel started running, he began to think things
over and decided to use the information for
himself instead of telling it to Bitter Spirit
as he had promised. The more he thought about this,
the more he liked the idea.
Weasel went to the chief's camp when the guessing
contest was being held. One by one, the
guessers failed. Since the
girl's suitor knew her secret name, he felt safe and did not go early,
so
Weasel was there before him. When Weasel's turn
came, he told the chief that the girl's name
was For-ever-and-ever. The
chief was amazed and the daughter fainted. Being honorable, the
chief accepted Weasel as his son-in-law-to-be
and set the date for the marriage. Weasel was very
happy, so happy that he forgot about his mean
trick.
The spider finally reached home and asked Bitter
Spirit when his wedding was to take place.
Bitter Spirit replied that he did not go to the
council, since he did not have the name in time, but
he had heard that Weasel had won the girl.
Spider was very angry and told Bitter Spirit
what really had happened. Bitter Spirit became very
angry and told the girl's father about it. Then
the chief became angry with Spider for
listening and with Weasel for his trick. He decided
that they were all at fault and his daughter
could choose for herself. The happy girl did
so.
Weasel heard that he was to be punished, so he
ran away. He ran and ran. Even today, he stops
and listens and trembles, as though Bitter Spirit
is still chasing him.
-- A Swampy Cree story, thanks
to Harold Stein
Long before missionaries ever arrived in the
New World, the Indians had ancient legends of a
great flood, similar to that of Noah. This is
the one the Cowichan tell.
In ancient times, there were so many people in
the land that they lived everywhere. Soon hunting
became bad and food scarce, so that the people
quarreled over hunting territories.
Even in those days, the people were skilled in
making fine canoes and paddles from cedars, and
clothing and baskets from their bark. In dreams
their wise old men could see the future, and
there came a time when they all had similar bad
dreams that kept coming to them over and over
again. The dreams warned of a great flood. This
troubled the wise men who told each other
about their dreams. They found that they all
had dreamed that rain fell for such a long time, or
that the river rose, causing a great flood so
that all of the people were drowned. They were much
afraid and called a council to hear their dreams
and decide what should be done. One said that
they should build a great raft by tying many
canoes together. Some of the people agreed, but
others laughed at the old men and their dreams.
The people who believed in the dreams worked
hard building the raft. It took many moons of
hard work, lashing huge cedar log canoes together
with strong ropes of cedar bark. When it was
completed, they tied the raft with a great rope
of cedar bark to the top of Mount Cowichan by
passing one end of the rope through the center
of a huge stone which can still be seen there.
During the time the people were working on the
raft, those who did not believe in the dreams
were idle and still laughed, but they did admire
the fine, solid raft when it was at last finished
and floated in Cowichan Bay.
Soon after the raft was ready, huge raindrops
started falling, rivers overflowed, and the valleys
were flooded. Although people climbed Mount
Cowichan
to avoid the great flood, it too was
soon under water. But those who had believed
the dreams took food to the raft and they and their
families climbed into it as the waters rose.
They lived on the raft many days and could see
nothing but water. Even the mountain tops had
disappeared beneath the flood. The people
became much afraid when their canoes began to
flood and they prayed for help. Nothing
happened for a long time; then the rain stopped.
The waters began to go down after a time, and
finally the raft was grounded on top of Mount
Cowichan. The huge stone
anchor and heavy rope had held it safe. As the water gradually sank
lower and lower, the people could see their lands,
but their homes had all been swept away. The
valleys and forests had been destroyed. The people
went back to their old land and started to
rebuild their homes.
After a long time the number of people increased,
until once again the land was filled and the
people started to quarrel again. This time they
separated into tribes and clans, all going to
different places. The storytellers say this is
how people spread all over the earth.
-- A Salish story, thanks
to Harold Stein
Long ago, when the world was still quite new,
there were no winds at all, neither the gentle
breeze of summer nor the fierce winter gale.
Everything was perfectly still. Nothing disturbed
the marsh grass on the shore and, when snow fell,
it fell straight to earth instead of blowing and
swirling into drifts as it does now.
At that time, in a village near the mouth of
the Yukon River, there lived a couple who had no
children. This made them very sad. Often the
woman would sigh and say, 'How happy we would
be if only we had a child!'
Her husband would sigh too and answer, 'Yes,
if we had a son, I would teach him to stalk bears
and seals over the ice-floes,
and to make traps and snares. What will become of us in our old age
with no one to provide for us ? Who will give
festivals for our souls when we are dead ?'
These thoughts troubled them deeply and on many
a long winter evening they sat in the
flickering firelight, imagining how different
life might be if they had a child.
One night the woman had a strange dream, in which
she saw a sled pulled by three dogs, one
brown, one white and one black, draw up outside
her door. The driver leaned from his seat and
beckoned her. 'Come,' he said. 'Sit here by me.
I will take you on a journey.'
Wondering and fearful, the woman did as she was
told. No sooner had she seated herself than the
driver cracked his whip and the sled rose high
into the air. Through the night-black sky they
flew, faster and faster, past stars sparkling
like hoar-frost. The woman was no longer afraid for
she knew that this must be Igaluk,
the Moon Spirit, who often comes to comfort those in distress.
Suddenly the sled stopped and the panting dogs
lay down to rest. On all sides, as far as the eye
could see, lay a great plain of smooth ice, the
glittering expanse broken only by one small
stunted tree.
Igaluk pointed and said,
'You who so desire a child, look at that tree over there. Make a doll
from its trunk and you will find happiness.'
Before she could learn more, the woman awoke.
So vivid was her dream that she at once roused
her husband. She told him what she had seen and
begged him to find the tree.
The man rubbed the sleep from his eyes. 'What
would be the point?' he grumbled. 'It would only
be a doll, not a real child.' But the woman persisted
and finally, for the sake of peace, the man
shouldered his axe and set
out to look for the tree.
At the edge of the village where the snow lay
thick and untrodden, he saw a bright path
stretching far into the distance. It was now
full day, yet the path shone like moonlight and the
man knew that this was the direction which he
must take.
For many hours he journeyed along the path of
light until at last, on the horizon, he saw
something shining very brightly. As he came nearer
he saw that it was the tree of which his wife
had spoken. The man cut it down with his axe
and carried it home.
That evening, while he carved the figure of a
small boy from some of the wood, his wife made a
little suit of sealskin and, when the doll was
finished, she dressed it and set it in the place of
honor on the bench opposite the door. From the
remaining wood the man carved a set of toy
dishes and some tiny weapons, a spear and a knife,
tipped with bone. His wife filled the dishes
with food and water and set them before the doll.
Before going to bed, the couple sat and gazed
at the doll. Although it was no more than six
inches high, it was very lifelike, with eyes
made from tiny chips of ivory.
'I cannot think why we have gone to all this
trouble,' said the man gloomily. 'We are no better off
than before.'
'Perhaps not,' replied his wife, 'but at least
it will give us some amusement and something to talk
about.'
During the night the woman awoke suddenly. Close
at hand she heard several low whistles. She
shook her husband and said, 'Did you hear that?
It was the doll!'
They jumped up and, by the glow of their hastily
lit lamp, they saw that the doll had eaten the
food and drunk the water. They saw it breathe
and its eyes move. The woman picked it up in her
arms and hugged it.
They played with the doll for some time until
it grew sleepy. Then they carefully returned it to
the bench and went back to bed, delighted with
their new toy.
In the morning, however, when they awoke, the
doll had gone. Rushing outside, they saw its
footprints leading away through the village.
They followed as fast as they could, but at the edge
of the village the tracks stopped and there was
no trace of the doll. Sadly the couple returned
home.
Although they did not know it, the doll was traveling
along the path of light which the man had
taken the day before. On and on he went until
he came to the eastern edge of day where the sky
comes down to meet the earth and walls in the
light.
Looking up, the doll saw a hole in the sky wall,
covered over with a piece of skin. The cover was
bulging inwards, as if there was some powerful
force on the other side. The doll was curious
and, drawing his knife, he slashed the cords
holding the cover in place and pulled it aside.
At once a great wind rushed in, carrying birds
and animals with it. The doll peered through the
hole and saw the Sky Land on the other side,
looking just like earth, with mountains, trees and
rivers.
When he felt that the wind had blown long enough,
the doll drew the skin cover back over the
hole, saying sternly, 'Wind, sometimes blow hard,
sometimes soft, and sometimes not at all.'
Then he went on his way.
When he came to the south, he saw another piece
of skin covering an opening in the sky wall and
bulging as before. Again the doll drew his knife
and this time a warmer wind blew in, bringing
more animals, trees and bushes. After a time
the doll closed up the opening with the same words
as before and passed on towards the west.
There he found yet another opening like the others,
but this time, as soon as the cords were cut,
the wind blew in a heavy rainstorm with waves
and spray from the great ocean on the other side.
The doll hastened to cover up the hole and instructed
this wind as he had one the others.
When he came to the north, the cold was so intense
that he hesitated for some time before he
dared to open the hole in the sky there. When
he finally did so, a fierce blast whistled in, with
great masses of snow and ice, so that the doll
was at once frozen to the marrow and he closed
that opening very quickly indeed.
Admonishing the wind as before, the doll now
turned his steps inwards, away from the sky wall
and traveled on until he came to the very center
of the earth's plain. There he saw the sky arching
overhead like a huge tent, supported on a framework
of tall slender poles. Satisfied that he had
now traveled the whole world over, the doll decided
to return to the village from which he
started.
His foster-parents greeted
him with great joy, for they feared that he had gone forever. The doll
told them and all the people of the village about
his travels and how he had let the winds into the
world. Everyone was pleased for with the wind
came good hunting. The winds brought the birds
of the air and the land animals, and they stirred
up the sea currents so that seals and walrus could
be found all along the coast.
Because he had brought good fortune as the Moon
Spirit had predicted, the doll was honored in
special festivals afterwards. Shamans made dolls
like him to help them in their magic and
parents also made dolls for their children, knowing
that they bring happiness to those who care
for them.
-- Alaskan Eskimo legend, thanks to Harold Stein
Long ago, Rabbit was a great hunter. He lived
with his grandmother in a lodge which stood deep
in the Micmac forest. It
was winter and Rabbit set traps and laid snares to catch game for food.
He caught many small animals and birds, until
one day he discovered that some mysterious being
was robbing his traps. Rabbit and his grandmother
became hungry. Though he visited his traps
very early each morning, he always found them
empty.
At first Rabbit thought that the robber might
be a cunning wolverine, until one morning he found
long, narrow footprints alongside his trap line.
It was, he thought, the tracks of the robber, but
they looked like moonbeams. Each morning Rabbit
rose earlier and earlier, but the being of the
long foot was always ahead of him and always
his traps were empty.
Rabbit made a trap from a bowstring with the
loop so cleverly fastened that he felt certain that
he would catch the robber when it came. He took
one end of the thong with him and hid himself
behind a clump of bushes from which he could
watch his snare. It was bright moonlight while he
waited, but suddenly it became very dark as the
moon disappeared. A few stars were still shining
and there were no clouds in the sky, so Rabbit
wondered what had happened to the moon.
Someone or something came stealthily through
the trees and then Rabbit was almost blinded by
a flash of bright, white light which went straight
to his trap line and shone through the snare
which he had set. Quick as a lightning flash,
Rabbit jerked the bowstring and tightened the
noose. There was a sound of struggling and the
light lurched from side to side. Rabbit knew b the
tugging on his string that he had caught the
robber. He fastened the bowstring to a nearby sapling
to hold the loop tight.
Rabbit raced back to tell his grandmother, who
was a wise old woman, what had happened. She
told him that he must return at once and see
who or what he had caught. Rabbit, who was very
frightened, wanted to wait for daylight but his
grandmother said that might be too late, so he
returned to his trap line.
When he came near his traps, Rabbit saw that
the bright light was still there. It was so bright that
it hurt his eyes. He bathed them in the icy water
of a nearby brook, but still they smarted. He
made big snowballs and threw them at the light,
in the hope of putting it out. As they went close
to the light, he heard them sizzle and saw them
melt. Next, Rabbit scooped up great paw-fulls of
soft clay from the stream and made many big clay
balls. He was a good shot and threw the balls
with all of his force at the dancing white light.
He heard them strike hard and then his prisoner
shouted.
Then a strange, quivering voice asked why he
had been snared and demanded that he be set free
at once, because he was the man in the moon and
he must be home before dawn came. His face
had been spotted with clay and, when Rabbit went
closer, the moon man saw him and threatened
to kill him and all of his tribe if he were not
released at once.
Rabbit was so terrified that he raced back to
tell his grandmother about his strange captive. She
too was much afraid and told Rabbit to return
and release the thief immediately. Rabbit went
back, and his voice shook with fear as he told
the man in the moon that he would be released if
he promised never to rob the snares again. To
make doubly sure, Rabbit asked him to promise
that he would never return to ear, and the moon
man swore that he would never do so. Rabbit
could hardly see in the dazzling light, but at
last he managed to gnaw through the bowstring with
his teeth and the man in the moon soon disappeared
in the sky, leaving a bright trail of light
behind him.
Rabbit had been nearly blinded by the great light
and his shoulders were badly scorched. Even
today, rabbits blink as
though light is too strong for their eyes; their
eyelids are pink, and their eyes water if they look at
a bright light. Their lips quiver, telling of
Rabbit's terror.
The man in the moon has never returned to earth.
When he lights the world, one can still see the
marks of the clay which Rabbit threw on his face.
Sometimes he disappears for a few nights,
when he is trying to rub the marks of the clay
balls from his face. Then the world is dark; but
when the man in the moon appears again, one can
see that he has never been able to clean the
clay marks from his shining face.
-- Thanks to Jim Speirs
Big Blue Heron was standing in the marsh looking
at his reflection in the water. He raised his
black-crested head to listen.
Two little White Weasels had come along to the
river. They were mother and son. When they
saw Blue Heron, they stopped to look.
'What a beautiful big bird-person!'
said the son.
'He is called Blue Heron. He carries his head
high!'
'Yes, Mother, he is tall as a tree. Were I so
tall, I could carry you across this swift river.'
Blue Heron was pleased to hear himself so praised.
He liked to hear other say that he was big.
He bent down low and spoke to the two. 'I will
help you go across. Come down to where you see
that old tree lying in the stream. I will lie
down in the water at the end and put my bill deep into
the bank on the other side. You two run across
the tree. Then use my body as a bridge and you
will get to the other side.'
They all went to the old tree lying in the water.
Blue Heron lay down in the water at the end and
stuck his bill deep into the bank on the other
side. Mother and son White Weasel ran lightly and
quickly across the log, over Blue Heron, and
were safe and dry on the other side. They thanked
Blue Heron and said they would tell all the persons
in the woods how fine Blue Heron was. Then
they went on their way.
Old Wolf had been standing on the riverbank watching
how the weasels had gotten across.
'What a fine way it would be for me to cross
the river. I am old and my bones ache.'
When Blue Heron came back to the marsh, Wolf
said to him, 'Now I know why you Blue Herons
are in the marsh - so you can be a bridge for
persons to cross the rive. I want to go across, but I
am old and my bones hurt. Lie down in the water
for me so I can cross.'
Blue Heron was angry. He didn't like being called
a bridge. Old Wolf saw he had spoken foolish
words and decided to use honeyed words.
'You are big and strong, Blue Heron, and that
is why you body is such a fine bridge. You could
carry me across like a feather.'
Blue Heron smiled at Wolf and said, 'Old Wolf,
get on my back and I'll carry you across.
Wolf grinned from ear to ear thinking how easily
he had tricked Blue Heron.
He jumped on the bird's back and Heron went into
the rushing river. When he got to the middle,
he stopped.
'Friend Wolf,' said Blue Heron, 'you made a mistake.
I am not strong enough to carry you across.
For that you need two herons. I can carry you
only halfway. Now you must get another heron to
carry you the rest of the way.'
He gave his body a strong twist and Wolf fell
into the water.
'You wait here, Wolf, for another heron to come
and carry you to the other side.' Then he flew
into the marsh.
The water ran swiftly. No heron came, so where
did Wolf go ? To the bottom of the river...
Since that day, no wolf has ever trusted a heron.
-- Algonquin Legend, thanks
to Jim Speirs
One time there lived a giant Mosquito. He was
bigger than a bear and more terrifying. When he
flew through the air, the Sun couldn't be seen
and it became dark as night. The zooming of his
wings was wilder than a storm. And when he was
hungry, he would fly into a camp and carry off
an Indian or two and pick their bones clean.
Again and again the Tuscarora
tried to destroy the wild beast but their arrows fell off him like
dew drops off a leaf. They did not know what
to do.
So the chief and the medicine men in the tribe
ordered a big meeting to pray to the Great Father
in Heaven to take pity on them and help them
destroy the monster Mosquito. They burned great
fires and they sang, and they danced and they
prayed.
The Great Father in Heaven, the Sky Holder, heard
their loud cry for help and decided to come to
their rescue. He came down from the sky, looking
for the monster to do battle with him and
destroy him.
The great Mosquito heard this and he knew he
could not beat the Sky Holder, so he decided to
run away. He flew and he flew and he flew so
fast no one could see him. He was faster than
lightning. The only sound was the wild zooming
of his wings through the air. But Sky Holder
was after him just as fast.
The giant monster flew around lakes, over rivers
and over mountains toward the East. Sky
Holder kept after him, never tiring.
When Sun was going down in a red mist at the
end of the sky, the great monster came to the
large lakes of the East. He turned to look and
saw the Great Father was coming nearer.
Swiftly and wildly, at the speed of eagles, the
monster flew toward the Salt Lake and there the
Sky Holder reached him. The battle was short
and the monster Mosquito was destroyed. His
blood spattered and flew in all directions. And...
a strange thing happened. From the blood were
born small mosquitoes with sharp stingers.
No sooner were they born than they attacked Sky
Holder without fear. They stung him so hard he
was sorry for what he had done, but he could
not undo it. These small mosquitoes with the sharp
stingers multiplied a thousand fold.
It happened long ago, but to this day we have
thousands of mosquitoes with sharp stingers.
-- Tuscarora Legend, thanks
to Jim Speirs
Far up in the cold North, where winds blow sharply
and snow falls thickly, an Indian hunter lived
all alone. His only friends were Sun, Wind, Snow
and Stars.
When he got up in the morning, he had to prepare
his own food and clean his house. When he
came home, he had to scrape his own skin- clothing
and his skin-boots and hand them out to dry.
And he had to do his own cooking and washing.
It was not an easy life for him.
One day, when daylight was sinking into darkness,
he came home and stopped at his door. To his
great surprise, everything was in order as it
had never been before. The earthen floor was swept
and the food in the pot was steaming hot and
ready to eat. Everything was in order as if a good
wife had done it.
Who had done it ? He looked all over - everywhere
- inside and outside. There was no one
around. He ate the good food and lay down to
sleep, wondering who had done this good deed for
him.
The next morning he went out to hunt as he always
did, and when he came home... he found his
home all in fine order again, and his food was
ready for him - just as the day before. His skin-
clothing was scraped and his boots were hanging
up to dry. Again he looked and looked to find
who was so kind to him, but he couldn't find
tracks anywhere. He just couldn't understand it.
Day after day the hunter found his house and
clothes cared for. Then he said to himself, "I must
find out who does all these things for me. Only
a good wife would do it and I have no wife. Who
can it be? I must find the person."
Next morning he went out hunting as he always
did, but he only went a little distance and then
turned back and hid near the house to watch.
Pretty soon a sleek fox with a long red tail
came loping along. It ran right up to the house and
went in.
"That fox is going into my house to steal my
food," the Indian said to himself.
He crept up to his house and looked in, ready
to slay the fox. But when he saw what was there,
he stopped in great surprise.
Right in the middle of the room there was a beautiful
girl, dressed in the finest skin-clothes he
had ever seen. And on the wall he saw hanging...
the skin of a fox!
"Who are you?" the Indian cried. "What are you
doing here? Why do you clean my house? Did
you cook my food? Is it you who cleaned my skins
and boots ?"
"Yes, I have cleaned this house and cooked your
food. I have scraped these skins and dried your
boots. I have done what I do well," the beautiful
girl said. "Now you see how life can be made
easier. I hope you are please. I do what I can
do well. Then I feel happy and proud."
"I am pleased," said the hunter. "Will you stay
with me all the time? I would be proud to share
this life and my home with you. Then I too could
do what I do well."
"Very well, I will stay. But you must promise
never to complain about me, or to ask from where
I came."
The hunter promised. From then on, they were
happy to be together as husband and wife. He did
the hunting while she prepared the skins and
took care of their home.
Everything was fine. They were good and hard
workers.
One day, the man smelled a strange, musky odor
that he did not like.
"Woman," the man said, "there is a strange, musky
odor in the house since you have come here.
You must have brought it with you."
"Yes, it came with me, and it is a good smell."
"Where have you brought it from?" asked the hunter.
"You have broken the promises you made! You said
you would not complain about me. And you
promised not to ask from where I came. Now I
must leave you."
The woman threw away her skin-dress
and put on her fox skin that had been hanging on the wall.
Then she slipped out of the house as a fox.
From that time on, the man lived alone. He had
to do everything himself, just as before the Fox
Woman had come to him. And she never returned.
-- Labrador Eskimo Legend, thanks to Jim Speirs
The Indians in the Pacific Northwest traveled
mainly by water, because the forest were so thick
it was difficult to travel by land. This story
tells how they were able to find their way back to
shore.
One day, a little girl went deep into the forest.
She walked until she found a family of loons. She
stopped and played with the loons. In fact, she
stayed for several days, becoming good friends
with the loons. They taught her many things.
But, soon, she new it was time to return to her
family, so she said good bye and returned to
her village.
In time, this little girl grew to be a Mother
and then Grandmother. One day she was out in a
canoe with her two Grandchildren. All of the
sudden the fog rolled in. [pause] They couldn't see
the shore. [pause] They heard a splashing off
in the distance. [pause] The children thought it was
a sea monster. [pause] But, the Grandmother new
it was something far worse. [pause] It was
hunters from a tribe farther north. If they captured
them, they would take them as slaves. The
children would never see their family or village
again.
The Grandmother told the children to get down
in the canoe and be quiet. The other canoe
passed by them with out seeing them. The children
were still hiding in the bottom of the canoe.
But, how would they find their way back to the
village? [pause] How would the avoid the
hunters in the other canoe?
The Grandmother started to sing. This was a strange
song. The Grandmother sung often, and the
children new all of her songs. They thought.
The children looked up. Where their Grandmother
had been sitting, there was a giant loon. It
spread its wings and flew out of the canoe. It circled
the canoe and then flew off. The children watched
it fly off into the fog. Soon, the loon returned
and circled again. When it left, this time, the
children followed it. It lead them safely back to
their village. For you see, only the loon has
eyes that can see though the fog.
When the Grandmother was a girl, playing with
the loons, they thought her a song. If see ever
sang that song, [pause] she would change into
a loon [pause] FOREVER. So when the Indians
were canoeing in the fog, they always listen
for Grandmother loon to guide them back to shore.
-- Thanks to Chief Lalooska,
recorded from memory by Rick Clements
Long ago, near the beginning of the world. Gray
Eagle was the guardian of the sun and moon and
stars, of fresh water, and of fire. Gray Eagle
hated people so much that he kept these things
hidden. People lived in darkness, without fire
and without fresh water.
Gray Eagle had a beautiful daughter, and Raven
fell in love with her. At that time Raven was a
handsome young man. He changed himself into a
snow-white
bird, and as a snow-white bird he
pleased Gray Eagle's daughter. She invited him
to her father's lodge.
When Raven saw the sun and the moon and the stars
and fresh water hanging on the sides of
Eagle's lodge, he knew what he had to do. He
waited for his chance to seize them when no one
was watching.
He stole all of them, and a brand of fire also,
and he flew out of the lodge though the smoke
hole.
As soon as Raven got outside, he hung the sun
up in the sky. It made so much light that he was
able to fly far out to an island in the middle
of the ocean. When the sun set, he fastened the moon
up in the sky and hung the stars around in different
places. By this new light he kept on flying,
carrying with him the fresh water and the brand
of fire he had stolen.
He flew back over land. When he had reached the
right place, he dropped all the water he had
stolen. It fell to the ground and there became
the source of all the fresh-water streams and lakes
in the world.
Then Raven flew on, holding the brand of fire
in his bill. The smoke from the fire blew back
over his white feathers and make them black.
When his bill began to burn, he had to drop the
firebrand. It struck the rocks and went into
the rocks. That is why, if you strike two stones
together, fire will drop out.
Raven's feathers never became white again after
they were blackened by the smoke from the
firebrand. That is why Raven is now a black bird.
-- This story is from a tribe in the Puget
Sound area recorded in Indian Legends of the
Pacific
together in the night chasing shadows in the
light. Soft light the moon does make*
upon the lake.* In the shadow of the wolf we stand
two lovers, two friends, hand in hand.
together in dreams, enjoying the touch* a closeness a contentment
that means so much. Two souls together, on a moonlight
night*
thinking as one seems so right. My quiet voice here in
the night,* his arms that seek to hold me tight.*
Together chasing the shadows away.
With only the moonlight to guide our way.
We'll pick the star flower at dawn then the shadows will
be gone
.And the mournful howl of the wolf will soon die.
as daylight,lights the distant sky.
Indian Prayer
Before You Go I Would Like To Say: Until We Meet
Again May The
Great Spirit Make Joy In Your Heart.And
May Your Moccasins Make
Tracks In Many Snows To Come
