by C. J. Taylor
Buzzard was next to come forward. “Everyone can see I have the finest, thickest feathers on my head.” All agreed. Buzzard did have a gorgeous head of feathers. “I will fly to the other side of the world, steal some light and hide it under my feathers. I will return before the people even know it is missing,” said Buzzard.
“It could work,” said the others.
Buzzard set off for the far side of the world. When he came to the tallest of trees, the tree that held the glowing ball of light, he flew high up into the clouds. He dove straight down into the great shining light. The closer he came, the hotter it grew. With open talons he snatched a bit of light. Stuffing it under the thick feathers on his head, Buzzard started his journey home.
As he flew over a wide lake he smelled something strange. Suddenly he felt terrible pain. Smoke burned his eyes. With flames shooting from his head, Buzzard dove into the waters below. As he rose up from the depths of the lake, Buzzard realized that he had lost the light. And even worse, his head was bald, never again to grow thick beautiful feathers. Embarrassed, he returned home to tell of his failed attempt to bring light.
Now, all the while, Grandmother Spider sat within the thin strands of her web at the top of the world. She had heard the discussion and had seen the failed attempts to bring light. Quick as a flash, on a single delicate strand she dropped down. “I will bring light,” she said. As swiftly as she dropped down, Grandmother Spider ascended into her heavenly web. High above the earth she prepared for her journey to the other side of the world.
She fashioned a pot of clay with a snug lid. Although Grandmother Spider took great pride in her beautiful, delicately woven webs, she knew that now she needed a web built more for strength than for beauty. Securing strong strands to the heavenly clouds, she made her way to the other side of the world and to the tallest of trees, the tree that held the glowing ball of light.
Suspended high above the tree, she swiftly lowered herself, holding the clay pot in four tiny, hairy legs, and the lid in another. She snatched a tiny bit of light, put it in the pot, secured the lid, and sped up the strand. Carrying the heavy pot, she returned to the center of her web high above the earth. She removed the lid and poured the light over the dark half of the world.
All the people, animals, and birds, could see! “Thank you Grandmother Spider. You are the wisest of all creatures,” they said.
Upon seeing how grateful everyone was, she gave the people two more wonderful gifts. Down the thin strands of her web she sent the art of making beautiful clay pots, and the knowledge of fire.
AFTERWORD
This tapestry of stories is woven with the wonderment of the skyworld and the mysteries it holds. The ancestors told these tales as a way of explaining the vast and ever-changing night sky. They told them under a twinkling canopy of stars with respect, humor, and an overwhelming sense of awe for the endless powers of the universe.
The Wasco, who live along the banks of the Columbia River, tell of a legendary hero, Coyote. He is a vain trickster who uses his magical powers and inventiveness to create the Big Dipper. The migration of snow geese over Coeur d’Alene Lake inspired the Salish story of the constellation known as the Swan. The Ojibwa, living west of the Great Lakes, tell of star visitors, enchanted circles, and human longing. Old Man, the Blackfoot claim, created the plains where they once roamed freely. The creator of all, he is a combination of virtue and folly. As great as his powers may be, his son’s are stronger. But Grandmother’s wisdom is the strongest when she brings light to the Cherokee.
I hope these stories have awakened your wonder in the glory of the night sky. I hope you enjoyed them as much as I have enjoyed bringing them to you. Nia wen. Thank you.
C.J. Taylor
