How the World Was Made – Filipino This is the ancient Filipino account of the creation. Thousands of years ago there was no land nor sun nor moon nor stars, and the world was only a great sea of water, above which stretched the sky. The water was the kingdom of the god Maguayan, and the sky was ruled by the great god Captan. Maguayan had a daughter called Lidagat, the sea, and Captan had a son known as Lihangin, the wind. The gods agreed to the marriage of their children, so the sea became the bride of the wind. Three sons and a daughter were born to them. The sons were called Licalibutan, Liadlao, and Libulan; and the daughter received the name of Lisuga. Licalibutan had a body of rock and was strong and brave; Liadlao was formed of gold and was always happy; Libulan was made of copper and was weak and timid; and the beautiful Lisuga had a body of pure silver and was sweet and gentle. Their parents were very fond of them, and nothing was wanting to make them happy. After a time Lihangin died and left the control of the winds to his eldest son Licalibutan. The faithful wife Lidagat soon followed her husband, and the children, now grown up, were left without father or mother. However, their grandfathers, Captan and Maguayan, took care of them and guarded them from all evil. After a time, Licalibutan, proud of his power over the winds, resolved to gain more power, and asked his brothers to join him in an attack on Captan in the sky above. At first they refused; but when Licalibutan became angry with them, the amiable Liadlao, not wishing to offend his brother, agreed to help. Then together they induced the timid Libulan to join in the plan.” When all was ready the three brothers rushed at the sky, but they could not beat down the gates of steel that guarded the entrance. Then Licalibutan let loose the strongest winds and blew the bars in every direction. The brothers rushed into the opening, but were met by the angry god Captan. So terrible did he look that they turned and ran in terror; but Captan, furious at the destruction of his gates, sent three bolts of lightning after them. The first struck the copper Libulan and melted him into a ball. The second struck the golden Liadlao, and he too was melted. The third bolt struck Licalibutan, and his rocky body broke into many pieces and fell into the sea. So huge was he that parts of his body stuck out above the water and became what is known as land. In the meantime the gentle Lisuga had missed her brothers and started to look for them. She went toward the sky, but as she approached the broken gates, Captan, blind with anger, struck her too with lightning, and her silver body broke into thousands of pieces. Captan then came down from the sky and tore the sea apart, calling on Maguayan to come to him and accusing him of ordering the attack on the sky. Soon Maguayan appeared and answered that he knew nothing of the plot as he had been asleep far down in the sea. After a time he succeeded in calming the angry Captan. Together they wept at the loss of their grandchildren, especially the gentle and beautiful Lisuga; but with all their power they could not restore the dead to life. However, they gave to each body a beautiful light that will shine forever. And so it was that golden Liadlao became the sun, and copper Libulan the moon, while the thousands of pieces of silver Lisuga shine as the stars of heaven. To wicked Licalibutan the gods gave no light, but resolved to make his body support a new race of people. So Captan gave Maguayan a seed, and he planted it on the land, which, as you will remember, was part of Licalibutan's huge body. Soon a bamboo tree grew up, and from the hollow of one of its branches a man and a woman came out. The man's name was Sicalac, and the woman was called Sicabay. They were the parents of the human race. Their first child was a son whom they called Libo; afterwards they had a daughter who was known as Saman. Pandaguan was a younger son and he had a son called Arion. Pandaguan was very clever and invented a trap to catch fish. The very first thing he caught was a huge shark. When he brought it to land, it looked so great and fierce that he thought it was surely a god, and he at once ordered his people to worship it. Soon all gathered around and began to sing and pray to the shark. Suddenly the sky and sea opened, and the gods came out and ordered Pandaguan to throw the shark back into the sea and to worship none but them. All were afraid except Pandaguan. He grew very bold and answered that the shark was as big as the gods, and that since he had been able to overpower it he would also be able to conquer the gods. Then Captan, hearing this, struck Pandaguan with a small thunderbolt, for he did not wish to kill him but merely to teach him a lesson. Then he and Maguayan decided to punish these people by scattering them over the earth, so they carried some to one land and some to another. Many children were afterwards born, and thus the earth became inhabited in all parts. Pandaguan did not die. After lying on the ground for thirty days he regained his strength, but his body was blackened from the lightning, and all his descendants ever since that day have been black. His first son, Arion, was taken north, but as he had been born before his father's punishment he did not lose his color, and all his people therefore are white. Libo and Saman were carried south, where the hot sun scorched their bodies and caused all their descendants to be of a brown color. A son of Saman and a daughter of Sicalac were carried east, where the land at first was so lacking in food that they were compelled to eat clay. On this account their children and their children's children have always been yellow in color. And so the world came to be made and peopled. The sun and moon shine in the sky, and the beautiful stars light up the night. All over the land, on the body of the envious Licalibutan, the children of' Sicalac and Sicabay have grown great in numbers. May they live forever in peace and brotherly love! Source: John Maurice Miller, Philippine Folklore Stories (Boston: Ginn and Company, 1904), pp. 57-64. Preface by John Maurice Miller (or his editor): As these stories are only legends that have been handed down from remote times, the teacher must impress upon the minds of the children that they are myths and are not to be given credence; otherwise the imaginative minds of the native children would accept them as truth, and trouble would be caused that might be hard to remedy. Explain then the fiction and show the children the folly of belief in such fanciful tales.

How The World Grew - Miwok The Northern Mewuk say: In the beginning the world was rock. Every year the rains came and fell on the rock and washed off a little; this made earth. By and by plants grew on the earth and their leaves fell and made more earth. Then pine trees grew and their needles and cones fell every year and with the other leaves and bark made more earth and covered more of the rock. If you look closely at the ground in the woods you will see how the top is leaves and bark and pine needles and cones, and how a little below the top these are matted together, and a little deeper are rotting and breaking up into earth. This is the way the world grew--and it is growing still. The Dawn of the World; Myths and Weird Tales Told by the Mewan [Miwok] Indians of California; Collected and Edited by C. Hart Merriam; Cleveland: Arthur H. Clarke Co., [1910] ] and is now in the public domain

How The World Grew - Miwok The Northern Mewuk say: In the beginning the world was rock. Every year the rains came and fell on the rock and washed off a little; this made earth. By and by plants grew on the earth and their leaves fell and made more earth. Then pine trees grew and their needles and cones fell every year and with the other leaves and bark made more earth and covered more of the rock. If you look closely at the ground in the woods you will see how the top is leaves and bark and pine needles and cones, and how a little below the top these are matted together, and a little deeper are rotting and breaking up into earth. This is the way the world grew--and it is growing still. The Dawn of the World; Myths and Weird Tales Told by the Mewan [Miwok] Indians of California; Collected and Edited by C. Hart Merriam; Cleveland: Arthur H. Clarke Co., [1910] ] and is now in the public domain

How the Woodpecker came to be – Cherokee As told to Marsha Tate Cowan, by her Grandfather Sherman Anderson, and told to me (Tim Meeks) by her. A long time ago at the time our people first encountered the White people, there was a cabin that set off away from their main town. A man and woman live in it by themselves. He was a wood carver, and she was a very beautiful, red-haired, fair complexioned person. By day, he would go work while she kept house and cooked. One day while she was making bread, an old Indian man from a nearby village came upon the cabin. He had been out gathering herbs for medicine and had not eaten in days. He smelled the bread and approached the cabin in hopes of whetting his appetite. He asked the pretty redheaded lady if she would feed a tired, old man. She told him to leave. She said she didn't have food to give away. The old man never said a word and left. He had never been so treated in all his life. It was the custom of our people to share even with a stranger who was in need. Now he was a very powerful man with much knowledge and respected as a great conjuror among his people. He went about his way and continued gathering herbs. The next day, the white woman baked pies. The old Indian man smelled these pies and said to himself, I am going to go see if I can get some food. He again approached the cabin, and again was sent away without food. The next day he went back to see the white woman. As he approached, she saw him coming and very angrily told him she had no food to give him…that her husband and she toiled every day for the food they ate and if he wished to eat, he must work. The old man looked at her and said, "From this day you will know hunger as I have. You and your husband will continue to work in the woods. Your days will be spent searching for food and you will always be hungry. You will know what it means to work for what you eat. As he turned to walk away, the woman slowly began to change. The black dress she wore, the white apron, her bright red hair began to change to feathers. As the old man left the clearing, a black and white bird was seen flying through the forest. This bird had a red head, just like the white woman. To this day, you will see the woodpecker flying from tree to tree, hunting, pecking, constantly looking for food, never getting enough to eat. Chikamaka Story Cherokee submitted by Gvnidigardi

How the Wolf Ritual Began - Squamish A long time ago, a young woman of the tribe, with three companions, was walking outside the village. They were going to a place called Tomak'cluh to look for ah-et's'l, a small plant whose roots they use for food. During the journey a Wolf went trotting across their path, strong and sleek and scarcely noticing the girls. The young woman said: "How handsome he is! I wish my husband, when I marry, could be as strong and as fearless." At nighttime the women went to sleep, and the Wolf came in. (The Wolves know everything and read the minds of human creatures) The girl did not know that he had come, but the Wolf woke the sleeping girl, and told her he was going to take her with him. Opening her eyes, she saw a fine young man standing before her..... The young woman went with the Wolf to his home in the mountain, and was there a long time. Two sons were born who grew up to be half Wolf and half man. The old father of the girl, meanwhile, did not know where his daughter had gone, and was greatly troubled. At her home they tried everywhere to find her, looking in vain in all sorts of places, until they grieved for her as dead. In the Wolf country the oldest son, grown to be a man, asked his mother why he looked different from the people around him (the Wolves). The mother had told him that he came from another place, and that there, far from where the Wolves live, dwelt her own father. Then the son asked when she was going home, because he wished very much to see what it was like there. So the woman told her husband that their son would like to see his grandfather. He finally agreed, but before they went, as a gift to his wife, the Wolf began to teach the woman about the Klukwana [the wolf ritual], which they had there. It was the Chief of Wolves that the woman have married and all the wolves came to the Chief's house to have Klukwana. When she had learned all about it, the Wolves came to take her away to her own village. They brought her to her father's house at night, and waited behind the other houses but did not come near. The woman went in to wake her father, and began talking to him of a daughter he had lost, though she kept hidden who she was. She said she herself had a Wolf husband, and that she had with her two sons....The woman also told her father many things about the Wolves, and that the villagers must not do anything when the Wolves howled, or try to harm them. Instead they must try to learn from them.... The old father had been much grieved because his daughter was dead, but he did not know her because it was nighttime and she was much changed after so many years. But at last had revealed herself to him and told him that now she was going to have a "song" of her own as a sign that the Wolves had brought her back and by which he might know her again. [The father gathered his people and told them of his daughter's return. They heard the wolves outside and began to beat on long boards and sticks. The wolves howled four times and departed.] Then the woman taught her father all about Klukwana, and the secrets she had learned from the Wolves as to their power and strength. After she had taught him all the songs and all the dances, the father began the Klukwana and later taught the rest of the tribe all that his daughter had learned from the Wolves. Alice Ernst, The Wolf Ritual of the Northwest Coast

How The Wildcat Caught The Gobbler – Cherokee The Wildcat once caught the Rabbit and was about to kill him, when the Rabbit begged for his life, saying: "I'm so small I would make only a mouthful for you, but if you let me go I'll show you where you can get a whole drove of Turkeys." So the Wildcat let him up and went with him to where the Turkeys were. When they came near the place the Rabbit said to the Wildcat, Now, you must do just as I say. Lie down as if you were dead and don't move, even if I kick you, but when I give, the word jump up and catch the large stone there." The Wildcat agreed and stretched out as if dead, while the Rabbit gathered some rotten wood and crumbled it over his eyes and nose to make them look flyblown, so that the Turkeys would think he had been dead some time. Then the Rabbit went over to the Turkeys and said, in a sociable way, "Here, I've found our old enemy, the Wildcat, lying dead in the trail. Let's have a dance over him." The Turkeys were very doubtful, but finally went with him to where the Wildcat was lying in the road as if dead. Now, the Rabbit had a good voice and was a great dance leader, so he said, "I'll lead the song and you dance around him." The Turkeys thought that fine, so the Rabbit took a stick to beat time and began to sing: "Gälägi'na hasuyak', Gälägi'na hasuyak' (pick out the Gobbler, pick out the Gobbler)." "Why do you say that?" said the old Turkey. "O, that's all right," said the Rabbit, "that's just the way he does, and we sing about it." He started the song again and the Turkeys began to dance around the Wildcat. When they had gone around several times the Rabbit said, "Now go up and hit him, as we do in the war dance." So the Turkeys, thinking the Wildcat surely dead, crowded in close around him and the old gobbler kicked him. Then the Rabbit drummed hard and sang his loudest, "Pick out the Gobbler, pick out the Gobbler," and the Wildcat jumped up and caught the Gobbler. Myths of the Cherokee by James Mooney. From the Nineteenth Annual Report of the Bureau of American Ethnology 1897-98, Part I. [1900] and is now in the public domain.

How The White Waratah Became Red – Australian There is really a white waratah. It occurs in New South Wales and in Tasmania. It is not a distinct variety unless we consider a flower a variety simply because of its colour. The white of New South Wales and that of Tasmania are speciosissima and truncata respectively, though the plants always bear blooms of the colour even though they are in close proximity to those of the usual glowing red. In Tasmania white waratahs are in some profusion. In New South Wales pink ones have been found, and they surely have in some way been impregnated. Occasionally the white ones have had a creamy tinge at the base of the pistils and in such cases the flowers have obtained some food that is usually the property of the foliage. In New South Wales white waratahs have been found, and may still be found at Mittagong, at Sherbrooke and on the Jamberoo Mountain. The natives of Sherbrooke had a legend of the changing of the white to red, and perhaps this story shows that it was believed that the first were white and the change to red was a later tffect. Of this we are not sure. In the dense dark jungle there, a sleek and beautiful wonga pigeon lived. The rich soil in the gullied and sunken flats produced wonderful vegetation. Supplejacks and bloodwoods, cedars and monstrous turpentine! Great bushy lillypillies, overgrown myrtles, big laurels, towering eucalypts (E. Consideniana, the White Ash, E. Smithii, even E. Sieberiana, the Silver-top) shut out the daylight. Climbing plants grew there, with sweet smelling Sassafras (Atherosperma moschatum) and white Musk Daisy-bush (Olearia argophylla). In their shade the Flying Fox had camped for centuries unmolested. Underfoot, the carpet of dark fallen leaves was feet thick. Down in there the horrible leech waved and swayed in his blind search for an animal to fasten upon in order to get his fill of blood, while the brown bottle-tick lost no time in detaching himself from his habitat to bury his proboscis in some unfortunate passer-by, in the same quest as the leech. In there, too, were gorgeous parrots and pretty pigeons and bower-birds, and tits and wrens, and such a host of the feathered tribes as to make them seem like a moving mass of wings and swaying feathers. Big brush wallabies softly hopped or curled in a tangled bower; the bush rat and the bandicoot peeked from their seclusion, and the native cat slunk about as only felines can. There, in this deep, dank, dark, sweet-smelling Australian jungle stepped daintily and cooed quickly and loudly, that proud wonga. Sailing serenely up above it all were the hawk and the eagle. While the wonga remained indoors she was safe. Up over the cliff, where the country was flat, the bush was rocky and open and dry. A dryer air pervaded, the ground was no carpet of fallen leaves, but a hot, sandy or gravelled area with but few fallen leaves, for there was no underscrub. The hawk's piercing eye saw every move there. The white waratah gazed skyward and felt dreadfully alone. All around the waratahs grew and perhaps they were red, and this one was the only one without colour, and it longed to be crimson like its neighbours of its own botanical genus. The handsome wonga had lost her mate. Her grey spots glowed against their bed of white; her little pink legs strode briskly on, and she scratched and scratched and turned up insects and grubs, and she fed well. But when her thoughts turned to companionship she discovered that she was lonely. So she coo-ed and coo-ed, ever more and more rapidly, and in higher and higher tones. She stretched herself upon tip-toes and searched the jungle. She ceased to look for a surfeit of food, and she stepped on and on, always approaching the creek where beyond it the cliff rose, and above it was the open forest. Up out there she would go! So she opened her wings, and, heavy as she was, she rose with a great and ponderous flapping. Increasing her speed, she swept by the trees over the brook, and up the cliff, alighting just at the foot of the white waratah. Then she heard the call of her mate. Foolish bird that she was! He was still down in the darkened jungle. His morning could not have been so successful as hers, or he was hungrier to start with, or perhaps he required more. She opened her wings again. Too late! A rush through the air, like a streak of lightning or a shooting star! Swish! The hawk was down through the branchless space and upon the beautiful wonga beneath the white waratah. But she was heavier than he reckoned. There was a struggle, and in it a whirl of feathers-white and grey and green and golden-shimmered! The hawk certainly rose, but he did not carry the wonga far. The pigeon was torn, and her life was ebbing with the flow of her blood. Her last struggle was her release, and from a height of a few feet she wrenched herself free and fell upon the white waratah. Her little claws grasped the colourless pistils. The eagle above all espied the hawk, and he had then to fight another battle in which he was the loser. So the white waratah was stained with the blood of the wonga pigeon, and the bird, still clinging to the reddened pistils, died. Later, the white waratah threw out its clusters of follicles, and they were streaked with red. The seeds were streaked in the same way. And all the plants that came from them bore flowers as red as waratahs could be. But they had to wait for three years to know that. Not so the parent bush. Always afterwards its flowers were white, and whenever the natives saw one such bloom they pricked their fingers and allowed their blood to stain it. Therefore there are not many white waratahs in New South Wales. Australian Legends by C. W. Peck [1925]. The copyright status of this text is unknown.

How The White Race Came To America And Why The Gaiwiio Became A Necessity - Seneca Related By So-Son-Do-Wa Now this happened a long time ago and across the great salt sea, odji'ke?da:gi'ga, that stretches east. There is, so it seems, a world there and soil like ours. There in the great queen's country where swarmed many people--so many that they crowded upon one another and had no place for hunting--there lived a great queen. Among her servants was a young preacher of the queen's religion, so, it is said. Now this happened. The great queen requested the preacher to clean some old volumes which she had concealed in a hidden chest. So he obeyed and when he had cleaned the last book, which was at the bottom of the chest, he opened it and looked about and listened, for truly he had no right to read the book and wanted no one to detect him. He read. It was a great book and told him many things which he never knew before. Therefore he was greatly worried. He read of a great man who had been a prophet and the son of the Great Ruler. He had been born on the earth and the white men to whom he preached killed him. Now moreover the prophet had promised to return and become the King. In three days he was to come and then in forty to start his kingdom. This did not happen as his followers had expected and so they despaired. Then said one chief follower, "Surely he will come again sometime, we must watch for him." Then the young preacher became worried for he had discovered that his god was not on earth to see. He was angry moreover because his teachers had deceived him. So then he went to the chief of preachers and asked him how it was that he had deceived him. Then the chief preacher said, "Seek him out and you will find him for indeed we think he does live on earth." Even so, his heart was angry but he resolved to seek. On the morning of the next day he looked out from the opening of his room and saw out in the river a beautiful island and he marveled that he had never seen it before. He continued to gaze and as he did he saw among the trees a castle of gold and he traveled that he had not seen the castle of gold before. Then he said, "So beautiful a castle on so beautiful an isle must indeed be the abode of him whom I seek." Immediately he put on his clothes and went to the men who had taught him and they wondered and said, "Indeed it must be as you say." So then together they went to the river and when they came to the shore they saw that it was spanned by a bridge of shining gold. Then one of the great preachers fell down and read from his book a long prayer and arising he turned his back upon the island and fled for he was afraid to meet the lord. Then with the young man the other crossed the bridge and he knelt on the grass and he cried loud and groaned his prayer but when he arose to his feet he too fled and would not look again at the house-the castle of gold. Then was the young man disgusted, and boldly he strode toward the house to attend to the business which he had in mind. He did not cry or pray and neither did he fall to his knees for he was not afraid. He knocked at the door and a handsome smiling man welcomed him in and said, "Do not be afraid of me." Then the smiling man in the castle of gold said, "I have wanted a young man such as you for some time. You are wise and afraid of nobody. Those older men were fools and would not have listened to me (direct) though they might listen to some one whom I had instructed. Listen to me and most truly you shall be rich. Across the ocean that lies toward the sunset is another world and a great country and a people whom you have never seen. Those people are virtuous, they have no unnatural evil habits and they are honest. A great reward is yours if you will help me. Here are five things that men and women enjoy; take them to these people and make them as white men are. Then shall you be rich and powerful and you may become the chief of all great preachers here." So then the young man took the bundle containing the five things and made the bargain. He left the island and looking back saw that the bridge had disappeared and before he had turned his head the castle had gone and then as he looked the island itself vanished. Now then the young man wondered if indeed he had seen his lord for his mind had been so full of business that he had forgotten to ask. So he opened his bundle of five things and found a flask of rum, a pack of playing cards, a handful of coins, a violin and a decayed leg bone. Then be thought the things very strange and he wondered if indeed his lord would send such gifts to the people across the water of the salt lake; but he remembered his promise, The young man looked about for a suitable man in whom to confide his secret and after some searching he found a man named Columbus and to him he confided the story. Then did Columbus secure some big canoes and raise up wings and he sailed away. He sailed many days and his warriors became angry and cried that the chief who led them was a deceiver. They planned to behead him but he heard of the plan and promised that on the next day he would discover the new country. The next morning came and then did Columbus discover America. Then the boats turned back and reported their find to the whole world. Then did great ships come, a good many. Then did they bring many bundles of the five things and spread the gifts to all the men of the great earth island. Then did the invisible man of the river island laugh and then did he say, "These cards will make them gamble away their wealth and idle their time; this money wilt make them dishonest and covetous and they will forget their old laws; this fiddle will make them dance with their arms about their wives and bring about a time of tattling and idle gossip; this rum will turn their minds to foolishness and they will barter their country for baubles; then will this secret poison eat the life from their blood and crumble their bones." So said the invisible man and be was Hanîsse'ono, the evil one. Now all this was done and when afterward he saw the havoc and the misery his work had done he said, "I think I have made an enormous mistake for I did not dream that these people would suffer so." Then did even the devil himself lament that his evil had been so great. So after the swarms of white men came and misery was thrust upon the Ongwe-oweh the Creator was sorry for his own people whom he had molded from the soil of the earth of this Great Island, and he spoke to his four messengers and many times they tried to tell right men the revelations of the Creator but none would listen. Then they found our head man sick. Then they heard him speak to the sun and to the moon and they saw his sickness. Then they knew that he suffered because of the cunning evils that Hanîsse'ono had given the Ongwe-oweh. So then they knew that he was the one. He was the one who should bear and tell Gai'wiio`. But when Ganio`dai'io` spoke the evil being ceased his lament and sought to obstruct Gai'wiio`, for he claimed to be master. The Gai'wiio` came from Hodiänok'doon Hêd'iohe?, the Great Ruler, to the Hadiöyâ?'geonon, the four messengers. From them it was transmitted to Ganio`dai'io`, Handsome Lake who taught it to Skandyon?'gwadî (Owen Blacksnake) and to his own grandson, Sos'heowâ (James Johnson). Blacksnake taught it to Henry Stevens (Ganishando), who taught it to Soson'dowa, Edward Cornplanter. "So I know that I have the true words and I preach them," adds Cornplanter. The Code of Handsome Lake, the Seneca Prophet by Arthur C. Parker [1913].

How the West Wind Became the Companion of the Winged God – Dakota The Four Winds fixed the four directions on the world. They were told to fix the direction of the North Wind first, but Wazi deceived them so that they came first to the place of the West Wind and fixed that first. Thus the West Wind is the first in all things. When they came near the edge of the world, they were at the base of a high mountain and Wazi told them to go over the mountain the next day. In the morning it was cloudy and when they were eating their morning meal they heard fearful noises on the mountain, but they could not see what was there because of the clouds. They were all much afraid and the East Wind wished to fly from the noises and the West Wind and North Wind feared to go up on the mountain. Then the South Wind offered to go first and the others could follow. If anything happened to harm him he promised to call to them and they could go back; but if he found no danger, he would call to them and they could come on. He went far ahead and when he came to the top of the mountain he saw a level space and near its center a large round lodge, open at the top and with no door. Close beside the lodge, was a great cedar tree and high in the tree was a huge nest made of dried bones. In the nest was an enormous egg. Someone in the lodge was drumming and a young one in the egg was pecking at the shell. These made the fearful noises that were heard below the mountain. As Okaga cautiously approached the lodge, a voice bellowed to him and asked who it was that dared approach the lodge of the Winged God. He replied that the Great Spirit had sent him and his three brothers, the Four Winds, to fix the four directions on the world, and that his name was Okaga, the South Wind. The voice told him to pass on and do his work. Then the South Wind called to his brothers to come. He passed on over and down the mountain. When the three brothers reached the top of the mountain, they hesitated, but a voice in the lodge bellowed at them and told them to pass on and do their work. They went across the top, but when they came to the lodge, Eya stopped to look at it, but the other two hurried on and went down the mountain. Eya went around the lodge and then he went to the tree and looked at the nest and the egg. Then he came back to the lodge and a voice within bellowed loudly and asked him what he wished. He asked who was in the lodge and a swallow flew up out of it. The West Wind looked at this bird, amazed and asked how it could bellow so loudly. The swallow told him that this was the lodge of the Winged God, that the nest in the tree was his nest, and the egg in the nest was his egg. Then Eya said he would like to see the Winged God. The swallow said that if one saw the real Winged God that one would be heyoka, and must forever act and speak in an anti-natural manner. But, if one saw Heyoka, then one need not be heyoka. Eya said he would like to see the real Winged God and also Heyoka. Immediately, there arose from the lodge a shapeless thing like a cloud of smoke, but with a huge beak like an eagle. In the beak were four rows of sharp teeth like those of a wolf. It had an eye and its glance was the lightning. Its voice was the thunder. It had four-jointed wings. It had no feet or legs, but eight toes, and on each toe were enormous talons like those of the eagle and each talon was as long as an eagle's wing. It seized the egg in its talons and shook it and the noise was the rolling thunder. As the West Wind looked at it, it became like a giant man and spoke to him. It said that because he was so brave and had looked at the Winged God without falling down or running away, that he should forever be the companion of Wakinyan, +he Winged, and that he should aid this God in cleansing the world of filthy and evil things. When the Heyoka said this he vanished. Then the sparrow said that from that time on, as long as mankind had ceremonies for the Gods, the West Wind should have precedence over all Gods, except one; that when he had done the work he was going to do, he must make his tipi on the mountain at the edge of the world and have that for his abiding place; that his direction would be the first established and the first recognized. Then there was a feast ready to be served and Eya and the swallow partook of it. When the West Wind drank of the soup he slept. When he awoke he was with his brother and they were at the edge of the world. He commanded his brothers to erect a great pile of stones. When it was erected, the North Wind said that since this was the first direction it belonged to him; but Eya said that his direction should be where the shadows were shortest at midday, and because it was cloudy they could. not see shadows. Then he told his brothers each to choose a bird as his messenger. So the North Wind chose the magpie, the East Wind a crow, the South Wind a meadow lark, and Eya chose the swallow. Then Eya said that the messenger that would alight on the monument would decide whose direction it marked. Immediately, a swallow sat on the pile of stones. Yata bowed his head and covered it with his robe; he was ashamed because he knew that Eya would be first forever and have precedence over him. Since then, when the West Wind is coming with the Winged God, Wakinyan, the swallows fly high in circles. Oglala Division of the Teton Dakota

How The Water Woman Secured A Landsman For Husband – Guiana A corialful of men were paddling down the river to catch crabs. They reached the sea, and while hunting in and among the bushes one of the party heard a noise behind him, and turning around was much surprised to see a young woman there, and still more so when he heard her say: "Brother! I am come. My father sent me to you to give me a quake of crabs." Having handed them over to her, she paid him with the loan of her body. Before taking her departure she told him that, while the boat containing him and his friends would be passing up the creek on the way home, it would suddenly stop of itself in a certain spot: he was then to jump into the water and join her, and she would bring him to his own home later on. This is exactly what did occur. When the man and his friends had filled their quakes and boarded the corial, he told them that he had acted in an evil way to a girl among the crab bushes, and that when the boat suddenly stopped of its own accord, he would have to jump out, but that he would join them later on. After a while the corial suddenly came to a standstill, our friend jumped out, and his friends left him standing in the water where the girl was holding him up. They reached home at last, and on arrival at the landing-place their women were waiting to carry the crabs up to the house. The one who was disappointed at not seeing her husband asked what had become of him. They told her that he had acted wrongly with a girl, and that they had left him behind. In the meantime the erring spouse was taken by the Ho-aránni girl to her people below, and her father told him that he had been sent for because his daughter wanted him. But he added: "You can go home to your own people this very day, and enjoy the feast of crabs that you and your friends have been gathering. I make only this one condition. If there is any disturbance or fighting at the sport, you must come back here at once: otherwise, you may remain with your own people, and we will not trouble you further. I am sending both my daughters with you." And so it came to pass that the two girls took him to his own landing-place, and when they got near, they told him to shut his eyes. As soon as he opened them again he found himself on land, close to his house. He entered, and telling everyone "how day?" sat down: his wife brought him food and drink. But as the evening progressed, the people all began to be quarrelsome in their cups, with the result that his brothers-in-law, sisters-in-law, and wife all threatened to beat him for sporting with the strange girl. This was quite enough for him. He rushed out of the place right back to the landing, where the two Water Women were awaiting him, and who asked why he was not enjoying himself at the party. But when he told them how his people had commenced to interfere, and had threatened to beat him, they took him back into the water, where the old Ho-aránni father said, "Take my two daughters to wife." These Water People have great liking for women at the menstrual period, so much so that, at such a time, no Carib, Akawai, Warrau, or Arawak woman will travel by boat or even cross water. An Inquiry into the Animism and Folk-Lore of the Guiana Indians, Walter E. Roth, from the Thirtieth Annual Report of the Bureau of American Ethnology, 1908-1909, pp. 103-386, Washington D.C., 1915, and is now in the public domain.[ British Guiana ][ South America ]

How The Water Was Lost And Recovered – Koasati Some Indians were gambling and continued to gamble for some time. One Indian kept the water and after he had wagered all of his things and lost them he wagered the water. Then the water was won from him and shut up, so that there was none to be had. All creatures needed water badly and went about hunting for it, but they could not find it. At the end of four days a Tososohka (a small woodpecker) while traveling about heard it. He went and told the people where the water was and all went and chopped to get it. Some men chopped with sharp axes and some with dull ones. While they were doing so the Tososohka chopped and cut through to it. Then it gushed out and all of the creeks were full to overflowing. Upon this all of the animals were very happy. Myths and Tales of the Southeastern Indians, by John R. Swanton; Smithsonian Institution, USGPO, Washington, D.C.; Bureau of American Ethnology Bulletin 88 [1929] and is now in the public domain.( Koasati )

How The Water Spirit Got The Man's Wife From Him – Guiana A man took his wife with him on a fishing expedition. He built a banab on an island in midstream and as night came on told his wife to remain there, while he went to fish. She was very anxious to accompany him in the corial, but he insisted on her remaining and of course she had to obey. Being very tired, she soon afterward fell asleep, and about midnight the Water Spirit paid her a visit. . . . Half-dazed, she woke up, and asked him whether he had done anything to her, and when he told her that he had, recognizing a stranger's voice in place of her husband's, she felt very much ashamed. However, the Water Spirit told her who he was, of his great love for her, and that he would now take her to wife: all she had to do was to tell her previous husband that it was entirely his fault that she had been left alone and taken advantage of, and that henceforth she declined to share his hearth and home. So when the latter returned next morning from his fishing, the wife made a clean breast of everything, for which she blamed him, as he had refused to let her accompany him in the corial, and she told him further that she intended living with him no more. They started now on their way home, and getting into the boat, they paddled a short distance, when the wife said: "After today you will not see me. You must tell all my family to meet me tomorrow at a spot that I will show you." As they traveled along, she showed him the very spot and at the same moment the boat stopped, just as if some one were holding it. She got out, the water coming up to her knees, and the corial continued on its journey. After a while the husband turned around to have a look, and saw his wife with another man, the Water Spirit, just stepping ashore: as he turned the point, the couple were walking together along the river-bank. Now, when he reached home without his wife, all her people wanted to know what had become of her; the mother especially was angry, but became somewhat mollified when he assured her that next day he would take her to the very place where her daughter had left him. He also gave her a message from his late wife that she was to bring the silver nose-ornament and the bead bracelets and necklets which the latter had left behind. So on the following morning he took the mother down to the river-bank, and there sure enough they saw the guilty couple, the daughter and the Water Spirit, behaving in a very friendly manner. As they got quite close, the Spirit suddenly disappeared, leaving the woman by herself. The mother then handed over the beads and ornaments, while her daughter murmured: "Your son-in-law caused this trouble: he would not let me come into the corial with him; and so when I was fast asleep the Water Spirit took advantage of me." Mother and daughter sobbed, and the latter said: "You will see me sometimes, but never distinctly: directly you think you see me clearly, I will disappear." No one knew at the time that the Water Spirit had taken advantage of the man also: but it was this Spirit who had made the husband refuse to let his wife keep him company in the corial, so as the better to carry out his wicked design. An Inquiry into the Animism and Folk-Lore of the Guiana Indians, Walter E. Roth, from the Thirtieth Annual Report of the Bureau of American Ethnology, 1908-1909, pp. 103-386, Washington D.C., 1915, and is now in the public domain.[ British Guiana ][ South America ]

How the water got to the plains - Australian told by Olga Miller Way, way back in the first time, when everything was new, there was a group of Aboriginal people living on a mountain. It was a lovely place, but everyone was worried. It had not rained for a long, long time and they were very short of water. They had some wells but these, except for one, were empty. When it had rained before, the water had just run down the side of the mountain, into the sea, which was far, far away. Now, on the other side of the mountain, there were just some big, dry plains where nothing grew. Weeri and Walawidbit were two greedy men. They decided to steal the last of the water for themselves and then run away. In secret, they made a large water-carrier, which was called an eel-a-mun. When everyone was asleep, they stole the water from the last well and hurried off. When the people woke up, there was no water for them. This was very bad, because there were little children and babies needing water and also the old people. And also, it was very hot. The Elders called all the people together and it was then that they saw that two men were missing. Looking around, they found the tracks of the two men. Quickly, the warriors followed these tracks, which led down the other side of the mountain to the big plains and they could see the men in the distance. The water-carrier was very heavy and Weeri and Walawidbit were walking slowly. This was because they thought they were safe. However, when they saw the warriors coming they ran, too. The best spearmen in the group ran to a cliff which jutted out and threw all the spears they had. One hit the eel-a-mun and dropped off. However, it did make a hole in the water-carrier. On and on across the plains ran the two men. They did not notice that the water was leaking out until the carrier was almost empty. This was why they had been able to run faster and by this time, the warriors had caught up. Now, this was way back in the first time, when very strange things happened. So the warriors took the men back home and the Elders called a big meeting. It was decided that the two men had to be punished for stealing and also, for thinking of themselves first and not the community. So the Wonmutta, the clever man, made some very strong magic and Weeree was changed into the very first emu. He went running down the mountain, out onto the plains, in shame. Walawidbit was changed into the very first blue-tongued lizard and he crawled away to hide in the rocks. But, a wonderful thing had happened. Wherever the water had leaked onto the plains, there were now beautiful billabongs, or waterholes. There was grass and flowers and lovely water lilies and then there were shrubs and trees. And soon, the birds came and everyone was happy because there was enough water for everyone. And that is how the water got to the plains. How the water got to the plains story explanation - text version told by Olga Miller This is where we used to come every year for our holidays. It was called One Tree and the one tree was a wynnum which is called a pandanus. We would camp up on top of the knoll here and the horses were always on a string down in the gully. And we would sit up there in the early morning, wrapped in our blankets, and we'd watch the sun rise. And we'd listen to the birds as they sang and welcomed the sun as it came up. This was a very important place to my sister and I, because it was here that we learned all the little stories from the early, early days. These stories were actually the education system of the people, the Butchulla people. The children who lived on the island here, I'm not talking about ten years, twenty years ago, I'm talking about a couple of thousand years ago see, they had their different social commitments. The children here were used to such a tremendous amount of water around about them, so the time would come when the family would have to go west, not only for trading. So the family would pack up and, for the first time, the children were taught that they had to look after water while they walking. There were certain places through the journey were permanent waterholes, such as the Womi waterholes, Banban Springs and on a particular trip, right out to Cloncurry, the children learned that not all the places were like Fraser Island where there were plenty of creeks and lakes and on the mainland there were rivers, any amount of water. So for the first time, they learned to save water and to use only what was in their eel-a-mun, or their water-carriers. Then they would come out onto the plains and see these beautiful billabongs and the first thing they would say, 'How did the water get to the plains?' And so, the story, the first story, is always about the land when it wasn't finished. We have the people living on the mountain and one side towards the sea was beautiful and they didn't worry about the back side. It was just a dry, empty plain. And this is how the children of this area learned that not everywhere in Australia is there an abundance of water. (Olga Miller. Fraser Island, Queensland, 1997)

How The Waratah Got Its Honey – Australian Krubi was the name of the beautiful black girl who became a waratah, and amongst the aborigines of the Burragorang Valley the name is only given to one girl of any tribe, of all its branches; and then only when the mother or the father has been reckoned to be very good looking, and the child is expected, therefore, to bear the same advantage (if advantage it is); so that not a baby girl can be christened Krubi until the former Krubi is dead. The Story Once upon a time, not long after the original Krubi had become a waratah plant, and her red cloak had made the brilliant hue of the flower, and only a very few other Krubis had ever been so named, a young lubra wife had determined that should she ever have a girl baby it must bear the coveted name. The living Krubi was very old, and already she had more than once failed to carry what her youngest child had put into her dilly-bag. That was the sign that her husband could leave her to the care of that youngest child, instead of staying back to aid her along. The young wife wished for old Krubi's death very much. She was never far away when Krubi was being assisted by Warrindie, the youngest Of her family. But never did the good-looking lubra (Woolyan) so much as place her hand under Krubi's elbow. But Krubi was wonderfully tenacious of life. She battled on. She was relieved from all work. She had only to carry the dilly-bag when the tribe were moving, and they did not move much. Woolyan grew very anxious. Her longing for the death of Krubi grew a passion. At last she determined to "bone" Krubi. No woman had ever done that. Only the men of her tribe were accustomed to kill by "boning." So Woolyan picked out the fine shinbone of a big dingo, and she rubbed it with sand from the bed of the creek until it was white and smooth, and she hid it in her hair, awaiting the time when she could catch Krubi alone. Many days sped by; several moons came and went. Then the blacks determined to have a corroboree. A good young man had been having private lessons in the things that were taught which Krubi and Woolyan and the other women were not permitted to see, and then came the great night. It was very dark. A space had been cleared amongst the giant gum trees. But whilst it was still daylight the young women had chosen their places. Woolyan was delighted to see that Krubi was not well enough to take her place in the little march that the active old women made. So she got up from her place, and going back to Krubi, she hurriedly undid her hair that she had done up to hold the bone concealed, but before she could catch hold of it the thing fell to the ground. Old Krubi saw it. Then did old age give place to greater activity than youth possessed. With a bound and a yell Krubi jumped forward and stamped her foot on the death-dealing bone. And Krubi's youngest bounded too. Woolyan was caught in a grip that she could not shake off, and blow after blow found her face and head and shoulders. The corroboree was abandoned. The tribe surrounded the fighting women. But the chief demanded that the hubbub stop, and Krubi tell the cause of the trouble. The sentence upon Woolyan was death. Before she was to die she "went bush." The beautiful waratahs were in bloom, and when Woolyan saw them all her false pride and hatred left her. Kneeling beside a plant covered with the beautiful red flowers, her tears fell into them. They were tears of repentance. And as she wept her child was born. She laid it at the foot of a waratah bush. When the men who were to club her to death came and saw her they were filled with a great compassion. So they sent for old Krubi. There was a great reconciliation, and the tears of both women fell into the waratahs. Woolyan's husband happened to smell the blooms and the scent was good. He plucked one separate flower, and the liquid within it crept into his fingers, He put them into his mouth, and, lo, the taste was very sweet! So that day the waratah became a further source of comfort to the aborigines. Sir James Smith wrote of it in 1793: "It is, moreover, a great favourite with the natives. upon account of a rich honeyed juice which they sip from its flowers." Australian Legends by C. W. Peck [1925]. The copyright status of this text is unknown.

The National Museum of the Native American Indian, located in New York City, has a Resource Center where you can do research - I plan to go there this weekend. Resource Center A Walk-In Learning Center for Museum Visitors The mission of the Resource Center at the National Museum of the American Indian in New York is to provide information pertaining to all aspects of the indigenous people of the Western Hemisphere. Knowledgeable museum staff are available to help with general requests about the museum and its exhibitions, as well as with research using the center’s outstanding collection of books, periodicals, CDs, DVDs, and videos. Visitors may conduct research ranging from school assignments to in-depth scholarship in the center’s work/study area, which is equipped with library collections suitable for all ages and contains information on many subjects, including history, culture, art, genealogy, current issues, and much more. For group appointments, call 212-514-3799, or email nin@si.edu. Family Programs Experience a diverse handling collection and hands-on activities. The Storybook Reading and Hands-on Activity program invites families to listen to storybook readings selected from the center’s collection and participate in a related hands-on activity. All are welcome to join the program on the second Saturday of each month at 1 PM. No appointment is needed. First come, first served. Please check the calendar for details. The Haudenosaunee Discovery Room The Haudenosaunee Discovery Room, a unique collaboration between the Resource Center and the museum’s Education Office, is a hands-on discovery room for children that incorporates New York State guidelines for learning about the Haudenosaunee (Iroquois) people. Teachers and group leaders can schedule a discovery room session with a museum staff member during museum hours. For group appointments call 212-514-3705. The Haudenosaunee Discovery Room is open to all visitors daily until 4:45 PM.

Cool Too far from me, but I would have never guessed there'd be one there Cool info Alli :) -----Original Message----- From: cherokee-bounces@rootsweb.com [mailto:cherokee-bounces@rootsweb.com] On Behalf Of Theresa Buell Sent: Saturday, May 24, 2014 11:40 AM To: cherokee@rootsweb.com; <MatneyForum@yahoogroups.com> Subject: [Cherokee Circle] FYI- The National Museum of the Native American Indian The National Museum of the Native American Indian, located in New York City, has a Resource Center where you can do research - I plan to go there this weekend. Resource Center A Walk-In Learning Center for Museum Visitors

Buffalo Field Campaign PO Box 957 West Yellowstone, MT 59758 http://www.buffalofieldcampaign.org bfc-media@wildrockies.org BFC's Mission: To protect the natural habitat of wild migratory buffalo and native wildlife, to stop the slaughter and harassment of America's last wild buffalo as well as to advocate for their lasting protection, and to work with people of all Nations to honor the sacredness of wild buffalo. Yellowstone Bison Update from the Field May 23, 2014 Use this link to access BFC's email Update From the Field in your web browser: http://org.salsalabs.com/o/2426/t/0/blastContent.jsp?email_blast_KEY=1299587 Click here to unsubscribe http://org.salsalabs.com/o/2426/t/7926/p/salsa/supporter/unsubscribe/public/?unsubscribe_page_KEY=42

How The Turtle Tricked The Tiger – Guiana Tiger really wanted to eat the Turtle, but was a bit of a coward and none too sure whether his intended victim was the stronger or not. Wishing therefore to find out, he approached the Turtle and pretended to make friends. The latter, however, was no fool, and knowing quite well what reliance could be placed on such a pretended friendship, saw that he must exercise every craft and cunning to save himself. Tiger began telling him what a big strong man he was, that he ate only meat, with such and such results, thinking thereby to impress Turtle with his physical superiority. But nothing daunted, Turtle said he could do the same, and suggested that their respective statements be put to the proof. This was agreed on, Turtle stipulating only that during the test they should both keep their eyes shut, an arrangement to which Tiger agreed. "Now, didn't I tell you?" said Turtle, "that I could do exactly the same as you and even go one better?" Tiger was loth to admit this, and therefore maintained: "Well, even if you are stronger than I, I am faster than you; I can run more quickly. Let us have a race, and prove it." They accordingly arranged to run to a certain spot, along a certain path, and whichever got there first would be admitted to be the faster, Turtle stipulating only that he must be allowed a little time in which to get ready. Tiger again agreed. Turtle spent the interim in visiting his many friends, telling them what had happened, and arranging for them to place themselves at stated intervals along the course of the pathway where the race was to be run. The two then started, and Tiger, taking a spring ahead, was soon out of sight. Turtle utilized the opportunity by slipping into the bush, taking a short cut, and reaching the spot agreed on, where he awaited his opponent. Tiger, racing along, called out "Hullo!" on seeing just in front of him a turtle, whom he believed to be his friend. He raced on, finds another turtle ahead of him, thinks the same thing, and so meeting turtle after turtle finally reaches the goal, where his original "friend" had certainly arrived first. Tiger therefore had to admit, "Yes, man, you have beaten me," Turtle adding: "So you are not after all either the stronger or the faster. Come, let us see who is now the cleverer. I will put marks on you and you put marks on me: that will be a good test." The Tiger again agreed. They then started painting each other. As to the Tiger's handiwork, just look at a Turtle's shell, and you will see how roughly and slovenly the marking was done. Of course Tiger was planning to get the better of his opponent if he could, but the latter well knew this and so had to be very smart in pleasing the Tiger. Look at the beautiful spots and stripes that Turtle put on him—and of course Tiger was delighted at seeing how handsome he looked, and had to admit that Turtle was cleverer than he. Now all the time that they had been talking, racing, and painting, they had had nothing to eat, and hence Tiger suggested their going into the depths of the bush, and finding some game, but Turtle, who had good reasons for not trusting his companion, refused. "No!" he said, "You can go and raise the deer and I will catch and kill it for you." So Tiger went and raised a deer, and drove it down the pathway. In the meantime Turtle climbed up a dead log that was lying across the road, and waited: as the deer raced underneath he dropped off the log and, falling straight on the animal's neck, broke it. Turtle then sucked the dead deer's blood and smeared it all over his mouth, so as to make Tiger, who just then came up breathless, believe that he had caught and destroyed the animal. "I have killed the deer and eaten my share; you can come and eat yours now." After having gorged himself, Tiger said, "Let us have a nap now," and curling himself up, soon fell asleep. Turtle, who kept awake, saw what a pretty necklace his companion was wearing (what we Indians call a "tiger-bead") and became envious of it.2 Turtle watched very carefully and, assured that he was in a deep slumber, quietly and softly removed the necklace, which he handed to one of his friends in the neighborhood, telling the latter to make off with it. When Tiger at length woke, he missed his necklace and asked Turtle where it was, but the latter of course said he did not know. Tiger however, accused him of being the thief, and said that whether he had stolen it or not he would eat him unless he replaced it. Turtle, however, protested that necklaces were of no use to the like of him: he had no neck to put one on: all he had was a back! Tiger, however, insisted on killing him if he didn't return it, but Turtle, who was now on his mettle, let him know that he could not kill him if he tried. Had he not already proved to him that he was the stronger, the quicker, and the cleverer? On the other hand, there was much more reason for believing that he, the little Turtle, could easily kill him, the big Tiger, if he only wanted to. And thus they continued, contending, and finally they arranged to fight it out to a finish, the Turtle only insisting that each be allowed a little time to get ready for the fray. The conditions were that they should go in opposite directions, and return within a short interval to the same spot, when the fight must be fought to a finish and no quarter shown. Tiger went his way, and on a given signal returned to the trysting place. But there was no Turtle to be seen. Of course not! hadn't he crawled into a hole in a log for safety? And there he still is, and there Tiger is continually on the watch for him to emerge. An Inquiry into the Animism and Folk-Lore of the Guiana Indians, Walter E. Roth, from the Thirtieth Annual Report of the Bureau of American Ethnology, 1908-1909, pp. 103-386, Washington D.C., 1915, and is now in the public domain.[ British Guiana ][ South America ]

How The Turtle Out Hunting Duped The Coyote – Zuñi In the times of the ancients, long, long ago, near the Highflowing River on the Zuñi Mountains, there lived an old Turtle. He went out hunting, one day, and by means of his ingenuity killed a large, fine deer. When he had thrown the deer to the ground, he had no means of skinning it. He sat down and reflected, scratching the lid of his eye with the nail of his hind foot. He concluded he would have to go hunting for a flint-knife; therefore he set forth. He came after a while to a place where old buildings had stood. Then he began to hum an old magic song, such as, it is said, the ancients sung when they hunted for the flint of which to make knives. He sang in this way: "Apatsinan tse wash, Apatsinan tse wash, Tsepa! Tsepa!" which may be translated, not perhaps correctly, but well enough: Fire-striking flint-stone, oh, make yourself known! Fire-striking flint-stone, oh, make yourself known! Magically! Magically! As he was thus crawling about and singing, a Coyote running through the woods overheard him. He exclaimed: "Uh! I wonder who is singing and what he is saying. Ah, he is hunting for a flint-knife, is he?--evidently somebody who has killed a deer!" He turned back, and ran over to where the old Turtle was. As he neared him, he cried out: "Halloo, friend! Didn't I hear you singing?" "Yes," was the reply of the Turtle. "What were you singing?" "Nothing in particular." "Yes, you were, too. What were you saying?" "Nothing in particular, I tell you; at least, nothing that concerns you." "Yes, you were saying something, and this is what you said." And so the Coyote, who could not sing the song, deliberately repeated the words he had heard. "Well, suppose I did say so; what of that?" said the Turtle. "Why, you were hunting for a flint-knife; that is why you said what you did," replied the Coyote. "Well, what of that?" "What did you want the flint-knife for?" "Nothing in particular," replied the Turtle. "Yes, you did; you wanted it for something. What was it?" "Nothing in particular, I say," replied the Turtle. "At least, nothing that concerns you." "Yes, you did want it for something," said the Coyote, "and I know what it was, too." "Well, what?" asked the Turtle, who was waxing rather angry. "You wanted it to skin a deer with; that's what you wanted it for. Where is the deer now, come? You have killed a deer and I know it. Tell, where is it." "Well, it lies over yonder," replied the Turtle. "Where? Come, let us go; I'll help you skin it." "I can get along very well without you," replied the Turtle. "What if I do help you a little? I am very hungry this morning, and would like to lap up the blood." "Well, then, come along, torment!" replied the Turtle. So, finding a knife, they proceeded to where the deer was lying. "Let me hold him for you," cried the Coyote. Whereupon he jumped over the deer, spread out its hind legs, and placed a paw on each of them, holding the body open; and thus they began to skin the deer. When they had finished this work, the Coyote turned to the Turtle and asked: "How much of him are you going to give me?" "The usual parts that fall to anyone who comes along when the hunter is skinning a deer," replied the Turtle. "What parts?" eagerly asked the Coyote. "Stomach and liver," replied the Turtle, briefly. "I won't take that," whined the Coyote. "I want you to give me half of the deer." "I'll do no such thing," replied the Turtle. "I killed the deer; you only helped to skin him, and you ought to be satisfied with my liberality in giving you the stomach and liver alone. I'll throw in a little fat, to be sure, and some of the intestines; but I'll give you no more." "Yes, you will, too," snarled the Coyote, showing his teeth. "Oh, will I?" replied the Turtle, deliberately, hauling in one or two of his flippers. "Yes, you will; or I'll simply murder you, that's all." The Turtle immediately pulled his feet, head, and tail in, and cried: "I tell you, I'll give you nothing but the stomach and liver and some of the intestines of this deer!" "Well, then, I will forthwith kill you!" snapped the Coyote, and he made a grab for the Turtle. Kopo! sounded his teeth as they struck on the hard shell of the Turtle; and, bite as he would, the Turtle simply slipped out of his mouth every time he grabbed him. He rolled the Turtle over and over to find a good place for biting, and held him between his paws as if he were a bone, and gnawed at him; but, do his best, kopo, kopo! his teeth kept slipping off the Turtle's hard shell. At last he exclaimed, rather hotly: "There's more than one way of killing a beast like you!" So he set the Turtle up on end, and, catching up a quantity of sand, stuffed it into the hole where the Turtle's head had disappeared and tapped it well down with a stick until he had completely filled the crevice. "There, now," he exclaimed, with a snicker of delight. "I think I have fixed you now, old Hardshell, and served you right, too, you old stingy-box!"--whereupon he whisked away to the meat. The Turtle considered it best to die, as it were; but he listened intently to what was going on. The Coyote cut up the deer and made a package of him in his own skin. Then he washed the stomach in a neighboring brook and filled it with choppings of the liver and kidneys, and fat stripped from the intestines, and clots of blood, dashing in a few sprigs of herbs here and there. Then, according to the custom of hunters in all times, he dug an oven in the ground and buried the stomach, in order to make a baked blood-pudding of it while he was summoning his family and friends to help him take the meat home. The Turtle clawed a little of the sand away from his neck and peered out just a trifle. He heard the Coyote grunting as he tried to lift the meat in order to hang it on a branch of a neighboring pine tree. He was just exclaiming: "What a lucky fellow I am to come on that lame, helpless old wretch and get all this meat from him without the trouble of hunting for it, to be sure! Ah, my dear children, my fine old wife, what a feast we will have this day!"--for you know the Coyote had a large family over the way,--he was just exclaiming this, I say, when the Turtle cried out, faintly: "Natipa!" "You hard-coated old scoundrel! You ugly, crooked-legged beast! You stingy-box!" snarled the Coyote. "So you are alive, are you?" Dropping the meat, he leaped back to where the Turtle was lying, his head hauled in again, and, jamming every crevice full of sand, made it hard and firm. Then, hitting the Turtle a clip with the tip of his nose, he sent him rolling over and over like a flat, round stone down the slope. "This is fine treatment to receive from the hands of such a sneaking cur as that," thought the Turtle. "I think I will keep quiet this time and let him do as he pleases. But through my ingenuity I killed the deer, and it may be that through ingenuity I can keep the deer." So the Turtle kept perfectly dead, to all appearances, and the Coyote, leaving the meat hanging on a low branch of a tree and building a fire over the oven he had excavated, whisked away with his tail in the air to his house just the other side of the mountain. When he arrived there he cried out: "Wife, wife! Children, children! Come, quick! Great news! Killed an enormous deer today. I have made a blood-pudding in his stomach and buried it. Let us go and have a feast; then you must help me bring the meat home." Those Coyotes were perfectly wild. The cubs, half-grown, with their tails more like sticks than brushes, trembled from the ends of their toe-nails to the tips of their stick-like tails; and they all set off--the old ones ahead, the young ones following single file-as fast as they could toward the place where the blood-pudding was buried. Now, as soon as the old Turtle was satisfied that the Coyote had left, he dug the sand out of his collar with his tough claws, and, proceeding to the place where the meat hung, first hauled it up, piece by piece, to the very top of the tree; for Turtles have claws, you know, and can climb, especially if the trunk of the tree leans over, as that one did. Having hauled the meat to the very topmost branches of the tree, and tied it there securely, he descended and went over to where the blood-pudding was buried. He raked the embers away from it and pulled it out; then he dragged it off to a neighboring ant-hill where the red fire-ants were congregated in great numbers. Immediately they began to rush out, smelling the cooked meat, and the Turtle, untying the end of the stomach, chucked as many of the ants as he could into it. Then he dragged the pudding back to the fire and replaced it in the oven, taking care that the coals should not get near it. He had barely climbed the tree again and nestled himself on his bundle of meat, when along came those eager Coyotes. Everything stuck up all over them with anxiety for the feast--their hair, the tips of their ears, and the points of their tails; and as they neared the place and smelt the blood and the cooked meat, they began to sing and dance as they came along, and this was what they sang: "Na-ti tsa, na-ti tsa! Tui-ya si-si na-ti tsa! Tui-ya si-si na-li tsa! Tui-ya si-si! Tui-ya si-si!" We will have to translate this--which is so old that who can remember exactly what it means?--thus: Meat of the deer, meat of the deer! Luscious fruit-like meat of the deer! Luscious fruit-like meat of the deer! Luscious fruit-like! Luscious fruit-like No sooner had they neared the spot where they smelt the meat than, without looking around at all, they made a bound for it. But the old Coyote grabbed the hindmost of the young ones by the car until he yelped, shook him, and called out to all the rest: "Look you here! Eat in a decent manner or you will burn your chops off! I stuffed the pudding full of grease, and the moment you puncture it, the grease, being hot, will fly out and burn you. Be careful and dignified, children. There is plenty of time, and you shall be satisfied. Don't gorge at the first helping!" But the moment the little Coyotes were freed, they made a grand bounce for the tempting stomach, tearing it open, and grabbing huge mouthfuls. It may be surmised that the fire-ants were not comfortable. They ran all over the lips and cheeks of the voracious little gormands and bit them until they cried out, shaking their heads and rubbing them in the sand: "Atu-tu-tu-tu-tu-tu!" "There, now, didn't I tell you, little fools, to be careful? It was the grease that burnt you. Now I hope you know enough to eat a little more moderately. There's plenty of time to satisfy yourselves, I say," cried the old Coyote, sitting down on his haunches. Then the little cubs and the old woman attacked the delicacy again. "Atu-tu-tu-tu-tu-tu-tu!" they exclaimed, shaking their heads and flapping their cars; and presently they all went away and sat down, observing this wonderful hot pudding.[1] Then the Coyote looked around and observed that the meat was gone, and, following the grease and blood spots up the tree with his eye, saw in the top the pack of meat with the Turtle calmly reclining upon it and resting, his head stretched far out on his hand. The Turtle lifted his head and exclaimed: "Pe-sa-las-ta-i-i-i-i!" "You tough-hided old beast!" yelled the Coyote, in an ecstasy of rage and disappointment. "Throw down some of that meat, now, will you? I killed that deer; you only helped me skin him; and here you have stolen all the meat. Wife! Children! Didn't I kill the deer?" he cried, turning to the rest. "Certainly you did, and he's a sneaking old wretch to steal it from you!" they exclaimed in chorus, looking longingly at the pack of meat in the top of the tree. "Who said I stole the meat from you?" cried out the Turtle. "I only hauled it up here to keep it from being stolen, you villain! Scatter yourselves out to catch some of it. I will throw as fine a pair of ribs down to you as ever you saw. There, now, spread yourselves out and get close together. Ready?" he called, as the Coyotes lay down on their backs side by side and stretched their paws as [1. It may be well to explain here that there is no more intensely painful or fiery bite known than the bite of the fire-ant or red ant of the Southwest and the tropics, named, in Zuñi, halo. Large pimples and blisters are raised by the bite, which is so venomous, moreover, that for the time being it poisons the blood and fills every vein of the body with burning sensations.] high as they could eagerly and tremblingly toward the meat. "Yes, yes!" cried the Coyotes, in one voice. "We are all ready! Now, then!" The old Turtle took up the pair of ribs, and, catching them in his beak, crawled out to the end of the branch immediately over the Coyotes, and, giving them a good fling, dropped them as hard as he could. Over and over they fell, and then came down like a pair of stones across the bodies of the Coyotes, crushing the wind out of them, so that they had no breath left with which to cry out, and most of them were instantly killed. But the two little cubs at either side escaped with only a hurt or two, and, after yelling fearfully, one of them took his tail between his legs and ran away. The other one, still very hungry, ran off with his tail lowered and his nose to the ground, sidewise, until he had got to a safe distance, and then he sat down and looked up. Presently he thought he would return and eat some of the meat from the ribs. "Wait!" cried the old Turtle, "don't go near that meat; leave it alone for your parents and brothers and sisters. Really, I am so old and stiff that it took me a long time to get out to the end of that limb, and I am afraid they went to sleep while I was getting there, for see how still they lie." "By my ancestors!" exclaimed the Coyote, looking at them; "that is so." "Why don't you come up here and have a feast with me," said the Turtle, "and leave that meat alone for your brothers and sisters and your old ones?" "How can I get up there?" whined the Coyote, crawling nearer to the tree. "Simply reach up until you get your paw over one of the branches, and then haul yourself up," replied the Turtle. The little Coyote stretched and jumped, and, though he sometimes succeeded in getting his paw over the branch, he fell back, flop! every time. And then he would yelp and sing out as though every bone in his body was broken. "Never mind! never mind cried the Turtle. "I'll come down and help you." So he crawled down the tree, and, reaching over, grabbed the little Coyote by the topknot, and by much struggling he was able to climb up. When they got to the top of the tree the Turtle said, "There, now, help yourself." The little Coyote fell to and filled himself so full that he was as round as a plum and elastic as a cranberry. Then he looked about and licked his chops and tried to breathe, but couldn't more than half, and said: "Oh, my! if I don't get some water I'll choke!" "My friend," said the Turtle, "do you see that drop of water gleaming in the sun at the end of that branch of this pine tree?" (It was really pitch.) "Now, I have lived in the tops of trees so much that I know where to go. Trees have springs. Look at that." The Coyote looked and was convinced. "Walk out, now, to the end of the branch, or until you come to one of those drops of water, then take it in your mouth and suck, and all the water you want will flow out." The little Coyote started. He trembled and was unsteady on his legs, but managed to get half way. "Is it here?" he called, turning round and looking back. "No, a little farther," said the Turtle. So he cautiously stepped a little farther. The branch was swaying dreadfully. He turned his head, and just as he was saying, "Is it here?" he lost his balance and fell plump to the ground, striking so hard on the tough earth that he was instantly killed. "There, you wretched beast!" said the old Turtle with a sigh of relief and satisfaction. "Ingenuity enabled me to kill a deer. Ingenuity enabled me to retain the deer." It must not be forgotten that one of the little Coyotes ran away. He had numerous descendants, and ever since that time they have been characterized by pimples all over their faces where the mustaches grow out, and little blotches inside of their lips, such as you see inside the lips of dogs. Thus shortens my story. Zuñi Folk Tales, by Frank Hamilton Cushing [1901]. Introduction by John Wesley Powell. and is now in the public domain.

How The Turkey Got His Beard – Cherokee When the Terrapin won the race from the Rabbit (see the story) all the animals wondered and talked about it a great deal, because they had always thought the Terrapin slow, although they knew that he was a warrior and had many conjuring secrets beside. But the Turkey was not satisfied and told the others there must be some trick about it. Said he, "I know the Terrapin can't run--he can hardly crawl--and I'm going to try him." So one day the Turkey met the Terrapin coming home from war with a fresh scalp hanging from his neck and dragging on the ground as he traveled. The Turkey laughed at the sight and said: "That scalp don't look right on you. Your neck is too short and low down to wear it that way. Let me show you." The Terrapin agreed and gave the scalp to the Turkey, who fastened it around his neck. "Now," said the Turkey, "I'll walk a little way and you can see how it looks." So he walked ahead a short distance and then turned and asked the Terrapin how he liked it. Said the Terrapin, "It looks very nice; it becomes you." "Now I'll fix it in a different way and let you see how it looks," said the Turkey. So he gave the string another pull and walked ahead again. "O, that looks very nice," said the Terrapin. But the Turkey kept on walking, and when the Terrapin called to him to bring back the scalp he only walked faster and broke into a run. Then the Terrapin got out his bow and by his conjuring art shot a number of cane splints into the Turkey's leg to cripple him so that he could not run, which accounts for all the many small bones in the Turkey's leg, that are of no use whatever; but the Terrapin never caught the Turkey, who still wears the scalp from his neck. Myths of the Cherokee by James Mooney. From the Nineteenth Annual Report of the Bureau of American Ethnology 1897-98, Part I. [1900] and is now in the public domain.