All the Stars in the Sky

by C. J. Taylor

  Text and illustrations copyright © 2006 by C.J. Taylor

  Published in Canada by Tundra Books,

  75 Sherbourne Street, Toronto, Ontario M5A 2P9

  Published in the United States by Tundra Books of Northern New York,

  P.O. Box 1030, Plattsburgh, New York 12901

  Library of Congress Control Number: 2005911001

  All rights reserved. The use of any part of this publication reproduced, transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, or stored in a retrieval system, without the prior written consent of the publisher — or, in case of photocopying or other reprographic copying, a licence from the Canadian Copyright Licensing Agency — is an infringement of the copyright law.

  Library and Archives Canada Cataloguing in Publication

  Taylor, C. J. (Carrie J.), 1952-

  All the stars in the sky : Native stories from the heavens / C.J. Taylor.

  eISBN: 978-1-77049-178-6

  1. Indians of North America — Juvenile fiction. 2. Children’s stories,

  Canadian (English). I. Title.

  PS8589.A88173A64 2006 jC813′.54 c2005-907472-8

  We acknowledge the financial support of the Government of Canada through the Book Publishing Industry Development Program (BPIDP) and that of the Government of Ontario through the Ontario Media Development Corporation’s Ontario Book Initiative. We further acknowledge the support of the Canada Council for the Arts and the Ontario Arts Council for our publishing program.

  The illustrations for this book were rendered in acrylics

  Design: Kong Njo

  v3.1

  For my grandson, Shayne

  CONTENTS

  Cover

  Title Page

  Copyright

  Dedication

  Little Mouse and the Magic Circles

  The Snow Goose

  There They Live in Peace

  Old Man Steals Sun’s Leggings

  Shaman Visits Moon

  Coyote Creates the Big Dipper

  Grandmother Spider Brings Light

  Afterword

  LITTLE MOUSE AND THE MAGIC CIRCLES

  OJIBWA

  Woodlands and Central North America

  White Hawk was a good hunter. He spent much time traveling the prairies in search of game. One day he came upon a strange sight: a patch of grass that looked as if it had been worn down by many feet. Yet he found no path to or from the circle.

  He spent the day thinking and wondering about the curious circle in the grass.

  “Perhaps it is star people that have made this circle,” he thought.

  Night was falling so he hid himself away in the tall, fragrant grass that stood around the circle. As the sky drew darker and the stars began their nightly dance across the heavens, White Hawk fell asleep.

  The night was still black when he was awakened by the faint sound of music. He turned his eyes skyward and saw a small shining speck, coming closer and closer. The music grew louder and louder. As the light neared White Hawk’s hiding place, he saw that the sparkling speck was, in fact, a wondrously made round basket. It came to rest soundlessly on the circle grass.

  One by one, twelve oddly beautiful young women emerged from the basket. Little Hawk realized that the music he had heard was the sound of their singing. With stately steps they danced, around and around the circle. White Hawk was dazzled. When his eyes fell upon the youngest of the dancing sisters, he was seized with passion for her delicate beauty. As she danced near him, he sprang from his hiding place. But she was too quick. She stepped aside nimbly and she and her sisters rushed to their brilliant round basket and ascended into the heavens. Poor White Hawk was heartbroken.

  The next day he returned to his village. Many days passed, yet he could not stop thinking of the heavenly creature. Each night he dreamed of the delicate young maiden who had taken his heart.

  When he could stand the torment no longer, White Hawk returned to the enchanted circle. He wandered around its edge, his thoughts on his beloved. As he made his way through the tall grass, he came upon a hollow log. It was home to a nest of field mice. Beside the log lay a small deerskin pouch, tied to a long string. White Hawk held it in his hand. All at once he knew what he must do to end his torment, for the pouch held strong magic.

  White Hawk once again hid himself among the grasses at the circle’s edge and waited for night to fall.

  He did not have to wait long. Again, the stars began their nightly dance across the heavens, and again, White Hawk heard the faint sound of strange, unearthly music. Looking up he saw the tiny speck speeding towards him. Closer and closer it came. Louder and louder grew the voices of the beautiful star creatures within their wondrous basket. When the sparkling basket gently came to rest in the center of the circle, twelve sisters once again came out and danced in the circle to the rhythm of their music.

  With the long string, White Hawk tied the magic pouch around his neck. The moment he did so, he turned into a little mouse. As his beloved twirled by, the field mice ran from their hollow log into the circle. The maidens stopped dancing and watched the mice scamper about in the starlight. All but one little mouse. It sat still at the feet of White Hawk’s beloved. Being curious as well as lovely, she picked up the furry animal. “Who are you, my tiny friend?” she asked.

  Suddenly, the little mouse changed back into a handsome young man. “My name is White Hawk.” Immediately the star maiden was smitten. The others, though, were frightened by the man who’d appeared among them. They ran back to the sparkling round basket, calling out to their sister to follow them.

  It was no use. The star maiden chose to stay with the handsome young man. Her eleven sisters returned to the starworld. White Hawk and his beloved returned to the village.

  Everyone welcomed White Hawk’s new bride. They gave her a name — Star Woman. Time passed and Star Woman quickly learned the ways of the people. She was content, but often she thought with longing of her sky home, her sisters, and most of all, Grandfather Star.

  She missed them more and more after the birth of a son, Sky Bird. As the child grew older, he asked many questions about his relatives in the starworld. The day came when Star Woman was overcome with homesickness. Taking Sky Bird and the magic pouch, she left the village and returned to the circle of flattened grass. She wove a round basket from the long reeds that grew by the edge of the circle. She hung the magic pouch around Sky Bird’s neck, and picking up the child, she climbed inside the basket. She raised her voice in song. The basket began to glow. And then, it floated toward the heavens.

  Star Woman was content to be home. Everyone welcomed her and her child. Grandfather Star was happiest of all, and pleased to have such a fine grandson. But soon Star Woman’s contentment was replaced with a terrible longing for her husband, White Hawk. She knew her son missed his father, too.

  White Hawk also grieved for his lost family. Every day he returned to the enchanted circle. There he waited and waited. Finally, Grandfather Star could not bear the suffering of the three. He spoke to Star Woman. “I see the pain you carry, Granddaughter. Go and bring White Hawk to me. On your return, bring earthly gifts for your star relatives.”

  That night, as White Hawk sat forlorn in the enchanted circle, he heard a faint sound from above. As it grew closer and clearer, he recognized the voices of Star Woman and Sky Bird singing.

  Overjoyed at their return, he joined in their singing. The family was whole again.

  When Star Woman told her husband of Grandfather’s invitation to the starworld and his request for earthly gifts, White Hawk eagerly agreed. The three fell to work, gathering gifts of colorful flowers and healing plants. They made bundles of feathers
, antlers, quills, and many other treasures and piling them all into the round sparkling basket, they climbed in and set off for the starworld.

  The star people were delighted with the gifts White Hawk and his family brought. Grandfather permitted each to choose one. When, at last, all the gifts were spoken for, White Hawk took three of the four white feathers from his hair. He gave one to Sky Bird, one to Star Woman, and the last to Grandfather Star.

  Grandfather Star held the feather solemnly. “Never again shall you be apart.” With a great sweeping motion he waved the feather over their heads. Suddenly, White Hawk, Star Woman, and Sky Bird changed into three magnificent hawks. They flew down to the earth together. You can still see them today as they fly over the prairies.

  THE SNOW GOOSE

  SALISH

  Rocky Mountains, Western Idaho, and British Columbia

  The constellation known to many as the Swan follows the path of the Milky Way. To the Salish of the Coeur d’Alene Lake area, this constellation is known as the Great Snow Goose.

  Deep in the lush forest, high in the mountains to the west, there was a magical lake. Its sweet waters were deep and clear. This peaceful lake held all the colors of the world. In the light of day, insects shimmered and buzzed as they glided over the surface, sending ripples through the reflected shoreline. Mirrored birds darted in and out of floating clouds. Within the lake’s calm boundaries, creatures busied themselves building homes and raising their young. At day’s end, the serenade of night creatures echoed across the star-silvered waters.

  The most magnificent of all the creatures that came to this enchanted place was Snow Goose. Snow Goose was a noble bird of great beauty and all that inhabited the lake admired and respected it. Even the water itself welcomed the majestic bird. To mirror such grace, such beauty, was indeed, an honor.

  Late one afternoon as Sun sent its last rays of light through the trees to dance across the waters, three brothers out hunting came across a steep trail leading to the lake. This pathway had been made and used by the creatures of the forest. No human had ever traveled its intricate twists and turns. Now, the youngest of the brothers was called Itchy Foot. He was always impatient, anxious to rush ahead, often without thinking. His impulsive nature had lost them much game on the hunt. Itchy Foot sprinted ahead up the difficult path, leaving his older brothers behind.

  “Slow down, little brother,” called Many Winds. He stopped to wait for the eldest brother, Growling Bear.

  “He is well-named, that one,” said Growling Bear when he finally caught up.

  “As are you, brother.” Many Winds liked to tease his serious brother.

  Many Winds realized he could no longer see or hear his young brother. He called out, “Itchy Foot, do you hear me? Wait where you are.” There was no reply.

  Many Winds was worried as he picked his way up the treacherous path as quickly as he could. Growling Bear followed close behind, grumbling all the while. It was growing dark as the two came to the end of the trail. There they found Itchy Foot. He was standing before a narrow gap that tunneled through the thick undergrowth. Through the gap lights flickered, bright red and yellow, green, and purple and blue.

  Before Many Winds and Growling Bear could tell their brother that it would be best to wait for morning to investigate, Itchy Foot disappeared into the crude, overgrown tunnel. The two brothers had no choice but to follow.

  Sun sank behind the tree-topped horizon as the three brothers crawled through the tunnel. It led them to a beautiful lake. The water reflected the last of Sun’s light in glorious colors. A tall, rocky cliff jutted out of the ever-rippling waters. The mirrored trees along the shoreline danced across the gentle waves that lapped the sandy shore where the three brothers stood.

  Suddenly a new reflection appeared on the waters. It circled, growing larger. The brothers looked up to see a giant white bird. The graceful bird came to rest upon the lake’s surface and its great beauty was reflected so that the brothers were awestruck by its splendor.

  Growling Bear was the first to find his voice. “We have come upon a sacred place. There is strong magic here.”

  “We must show respect to the waters and all that live here,” said Many Winds.

  Hearing nothing from Itchy Foot, the two turned to find that he had, once again, disappeared. They searched the beach and shoreline and finally they spotted him, high on the rocky cliff overlooking the lake. He raised his bow and arrow and took aim.

  Growling Bear and Many Winds called out, but their brother took no notice.

  “I will show them who is the best hunter,” he said, fitting an arrow into his bow.

  Startled by the commotion, the great bird spread its huge, white wings and rose into the air. Itchy Foot’s arrow flew from his bow. It met its mark, driving through the soft white feathers and piercing the heart of the noble bird. It fell from the sky into the lake.

  As it sank below the surface, all the colors of the waters faded away. The lake grew dark and still. Itchy Foot could do nothing but watch.

  “What have I done?” he cried.

  On the beach, Growling Bear and Many Winds asked the same question. “What has he done?”

  From the dark silence came the soft keening of the night creatures. The still waters slowly began to keep rhythm. Night stars came out to dance across the gentle waves. The three brothers looked toward the sky and saw the spirit of the giant bird, its great white wings spread wide, as it flew up into the heavens.

  And that is where it lives to this day — the magnificent Snow Goose — winging across the sky in the dark of night.

  THERE THEY LIVE IN PEACE

  ONONDAGA

  Woodlands of Eastern North America

  The constellation known as Pleides has inspired many legends across the world’s cultures. North American myths vary as widely as the nations that tell them. The Blackfoot version tells of a boy’s revenge for not receiving yellow buffalo calf robes. The Nez Perces call the stars the seven sisters. This is the Onondaga story of dancing children known to them as oot-kwa-tah.

  One autumn long ago, a chief led his people through the stately woodlands of the northeast. They were in search of new hunting grounds and a place to build their village. As they traveled deeper into the great forest, they came upon a beautiful lake. Many streams flowed into it and it was abundant with fish. Deer came to the shore to drink the cool, clear waters. Morning and evening, bears came to take their morning meals of fish. In the hills surrounding the lake, there grew tall chestnut, beech, and maple trees.

  The chief looked upon this land of plenty and spoke to the people. “Let us give thanks to the Creator for guiding us to our new home. This is where we shall build our village.”

  Everyone fell to clearing the trees and building the longhouses. Men hunted and women gathered food for the long winter ahead. All were so busy that the children were left to make their own amusement.

  One day, they wandered away from the village and found a secluded beach. From then on, the children gathered together to dance and sing, every day becoming more boisterous. The soft, sandy beach was marred with footprints from their wild dancing. And then, while the children sang their songs and danced their dances, a strange old man appeared at the wood’s edge behind the beach. He wore a robe of gleaming white feathers. His hair, shining silver, floated about his shoulders. His face held the many wrinkles of time.

  “I am the Spirit and the Guardian of the Forest.” His voice was harsh. “You children show no respect for the tranquility of my beautiful beach. Your footprints scar the sand and your clamor frightens the animals and birds. Go home at once, before something terrible happens.”

  As suddenly as the Spirit of the Forest had appeared, he vanished.

  The children paid little heed to his warning. They danced and sang even more wildly, as each day passed, and each day, the Spirit of the Forest appeared to warn them.

  One day, as they gathered at the secluded beach, a certain little boy who was very fond of ea
ting said, “Tomorrow let us bring food from home so we may feast after we dance.” When they all returned to their lodges each child asked for something to take to the feast. The parents refused. “We are too busy.” “You will waste food.” “Come home to eat as you should.”

  The next day the children returned to the beach to dance and sing as usual. Again the Spirit of the Forest came to warn them. Still, they continued to pay no attention. It was not long before their heads felt light and their empty stomachs ached. Little by little, they found themselves leaving the ground and rising into the sky.

  As he floated higher and higher, one boy cried out, “Do not look back!”

  A mother from the village saw the children floating away and she called to them, but they kept rising skyward. She hurried to tell the other parents. As quickly as they could, they snatched up food and rushed to the beach, calling their children’s names. But the children continued their skyward journey.

  One little girl who could not resist looking down at her mother’s face, changed into a falling star. The others, upon reaching the heavens, turned into stars.

  That night as Grandmother Moon came out to welcome her bright new stars, the old Spirit of the Forest stood on his secluded beach. “Oot-kwa-tah!” he called out. “There, they will live in peace.”

  OLD MAN STEALS SUN’S LEGGINGS

  BLACKFOOT

  The Great Plains

  One day, Old Man was wandering about the world making things like mountains and lakes, rolling plains, and beautiful trees. By midday he had reached the top of the world and he’d worked up quite an appetite.

  Sun’s lodge was close by, so Old Man decided to pay a visit. Perhaps he will have a tasty treat or two for me, he thought.