AMERICAN INDIAN MYTHS AND LEGENDS

by Richard Erdoes

  “I have called you here in a sacred manner, for a sacred purpose: To help me make this earth, this land. To breathe into these sixteen hoops.”

  The north said: “What is that thing you call land, what is this thing you call earth? What have I to do with it?”

  The great sun replied: You are the living moisture; you are the atmosphere; you are the north. You will be the caretaker of this earth. You will make the seasons in all eternity.”

  And the power from the north answered: “Hou, hou!” This was the echo of the echos of all the universe, and it reverberated throughout the hoops and orbits.

  So the sacred four-direction powers breathed their life-giving breath into this earth we are sitting on. The sixteen hoops were still skeleton hoops; you could see through them, walk through, float through; they had no substance yet.

  The sun again called all the powers and planets to crowd around the earth and breathe into it, and this was the beginning of the red man’s life. All the powers of the universe participated in its creation, but there arrived among them in a whirlwind an unknown power right out of the center of the universes. Its name was Unknowingly, and it also breathed into the sixteen hoops. All the powers breathed fire and the other elements into this land, and when they had finished, one and a half million eons of creation had passed.

  The sun looked at the earth. Everywhere he saw beauty and light. He saw the art designs of the universe, the creation art of the planets, and land painting. The sun gathered parts of all the riches of all the universes and put them into this newly created world; nothing was wasted.

  But the earth was bare. It was a bald-headed world. No life was on it yet; it was rock, a far-shining crystal.

  The Great Unknown Power, the Grandfather Power, Unknowingly, was part of the sun and the sun was part of him. Unknowingly was seenunseen and had many forms. He spoke: “Ho! Aho! Now it is done. This is the Great Way of the Great Spirit talking.” And of the earth he said: “This will be my seat. This will be my backrest.” In the earth he planted the seed of life, a planting that took half a million eons of creation time.

  First Unknowingly planted trees, the kind that never change, that are always green: the pine and the cedar. They are the green relations of the universe, and we still use the cedar as incense in our ceremonies. In his mind this tree planting was done in the blink of an eye, but it lasted a million and a half eons of creation time. At that point the sun did not move yet, did not rise and did not go down, just stood in one place. The sun looked at the earth covered with green and said: “It is beautiful. I am satisfied.” Then the great sun made the four seasons for north to take care of, and when he had finished, another half-million eons of creation time had passed. And no birds had yet been created; just our green relations.

  The trees spoke to each other. Every day and every moment they were talking, and they are still talking now in an unknown language which humans do not understand. When a little child emerges from the womb, the first thing it does is to cry and cry. It too is speaking in an unknown language—tree language, universe language, survival language. Though the newborn later forgets, he knows at birth that we have to survive to take care of this world, to live in a sacred manner after the original instruction.

  When three million eons of creation time had passed, the great sun looked down from his orbit and thought: “This is unique. Everything moves in the Great Way. Caretakers, the sacred four directions, have been appointed, and they are doing well what they are supposed to do.” And he looked at a tree and saw that a big branch was broken off. He said: “Ton, Ton, Tonpi. Birth giving. It’s time for creating people, for forming them up in pairs.”

  Don’t call us Indians; call us Birth People, because that is what we are.

  The sun thought: “Everything looks nice, and birthing is about to take place, but somebody should be the caretaker of this Birth people land. The four-direction powers already take care of the planet, but I want a special caretaker for the hemisphere upon which I shall put the red man.” At that time he did not think of it as Mother Earth but as the Planet of the Universes, the Orb of Planification. Because there was no mother yet, no man or woman; just the colors of the four directions and the plants, and the intelligence of powers, the intelligence of Tunkashila.

  The great sun called loudly: “Unknowing, you always arrive unknowingly. Come unknowlingly from your seat.” And Unknowingly arrived with lightning and with powers that no human could scientifically analyze, that could not be computed, powers sacred and secret, the oldest, the most innate. Unknown was a shadow who spoke with lightning, with thundering. The great sun, anpetu-wi, still stood idle, fixed in his place from the moment of creation. Then suddenly, at billions of miles an hour, the sun began to move. Moving, he released glowing gases, the energy of the fire without end, life-giving warmth. Unknowingly was right beside him at that moment of creation time. (Were he and the sun one? Were they two? Was he the sun’s seventh shadow?)

  Unknowingly said: “Now we are going to make a human out of all these elements. We will take the vein of the cedar tree to create a man who will be the caretaker of this land. His name shall be Ikche Wichasha—the Wild Natural Two-Legged, the wild, free human. Unknowingly was the seventh shadow of the sun, and he spoke the lightning language to communicate his wishes. If the shadow walked through this room here, you couldn’t see him, but you would somehow feel his presence and you would have a new vision.

  Unknowingly called the whirlwind. “Yumni-Omni, Tate Yumni, arrive!”

  Whirlwind arrived with a thundering moan—the earth-birthing sound. The sun, from his eye of eyes, his eye of the universe, made tears flow. When one tear hit the earth, it turned into a blood clot, a we-ota. It was as yet only a shadow, but for four generations this shadow developed itself. The whirlwind enfolded him, hit him, helping him to become a body. He was We-Ota-Wichasha, Blood Clot Boy, and he was almost seven feet tall. When the whirlwind hit him, supernatural knowledge went into him, as well as the power of speech and the knowledge of language. And when Blood Clot received these powers, he became a man. The sun was content, saying: “Now a caretaker has been created for this land.”

  We-Ota-Wichasha developed not only into one man, but into seven nations of the seven ore colors. Today we have only four colors—the red man, the white man, the black man, and the yellow man. What happened to the other three kinds of men? Where did they go?

  One was Kosankiya—a great planet, with plants, with animals, with humans. Kosankiya is the darkness of every blue. He said: “I shall be the nest maker. I shall be the upholder of the dome. I shall be the blue sky.” He is still here, whether it is day or night. That vault above us makes himself dark at night, blue during the day.

  And where is the second one? His name is Edam, Hota Edam, Hotanka—the Great Voice blazing forth. Where does he come from? He is floating in the voids. He is red, an art design. You can see him among the thunder clouds sometimes. And he is the Wakinyan, the great thunderbird, the winged part of the sixteen sacreds. He is still here.

  And still one is missing; where is he? Look carefully, for he is the spirit of the land, the yellow spearhead of the earth powers. He is Wo-Wakan, the supernatural.

  Together with the four races of mankind, the Above, the Below, and the Winged Spirit form the seven generations. None are missing. And we are part of them. They include us, they include everything; even a pebble or a tiny insect is gathered up in the sacred hoop.

  Now, the sun had given Blood Clot Man the intelligence of the divine human being. He was a medicine, for the sun had shed tears and sweated as during a sweat-lodge purification. Out of the winds, out of the whirlwind, out of the sacred breath of the universe Blood Clot had been made. He was not created in nine months, like the child you and your woman begot, but over millions of years. Yet even in your baby, a little of that lightning power and star breath is being passed on.

  At this time the earth was a crystal inhabited by a great intelligence and overblanketed b
y the sun and the shadows he had created. Its shining center was crystal, glass, and mica, but it was solid now. You could not pierce it or walk through it, for the skeleton had been covered with flesh, green flesh. Next Wakan Tanka, Tunkashila, formed animals in pairs, to give their flesh so that man could live. And then it was time to create woman. There was no moon then; it was still the period of sacred newness. The sun again called all the planets and supernaturals, and when they had assembled, the sun, in a bright flash, took out one of his eyes. He threw it on the wind of his vision into a certain place, and it became the moon. And on this new orb, that eye-planet, he created woman. “You are a planet virgin, a moon maiden,” he told her. “I have touched you and made you out of my shadow. I want you to walk on the earth.” This happened in darkness at the time of a new moon.

  “How will I walk over to that land?” asked the woman. So the sun created woman power and woman understanding. He used the lightning to make a bridge from the moon to the earth, and the woman walked on the lightning. Her crossing took a long time.

  Now the maker of the universe had created man and woman and given them a power and a way that has never been changed. Doing that, the sun had used up another million eons of creation time. He instructed the woman in her tasks, which she accomplished through her dreams, through her visions, through her special powers.

  The Great Spirit had created the woman to be with the man, with We-Ota-Wichasha—but not right away. They had to make contact slowly, get used to each other, understand each other for the survival of their caretaking. Tunkashila let blood roll into her. She walked on the lightning, but she also walked on a blood vein reaching from the moon to the earth. This vein was a cord, a birth cord that went into her body, and through it she is forever connected with the moon. And nine months of creation were given to her. At first she was without feeling, for love was created in her and inside the man long after their bodies had been formed. They did not live as we do today but were a part of the land, taking care of it even while it took care of them.

  The man and the woman began to communicate with each other and talked for many years. Then inside them a feeling emerged. Even before they touched each other they felt a vibration, womb understanding. So by the powers of the great sun, by the powers of Tunkashila, it was given to them to understand that they were man and woman, creators themselves. That understanding came to the man through lightning, through the sun blood that was in him, and it came to the woman through that birth cord which connects her to the moon and whose power she still feels at her moon time.

  “You are the caretaker of the generations, you are the birth giver,” the sun told the woman. “You will be the carrier of this universe.”

  The man and the woman did what they were meant to do after sacred nature’s way, and twins were born to them, two little boys. They were not born in a hospital or a tipi but in the natural way, the woman crouching, gripping her birthing stick, with a soft deerskin waiting to receive her womb offerings. The sun dome was their dwelling, not a tipi or a house. Their roof was the sky vault. And that is why we, the red people, the Ikche Wichasa, are the oldest people on this hemisphere, living here since the beginning of time with the understanding and power given to us.

  At the moment they were born, the twins already had that understanding and power. When they were old enough (and they grew faster than humans do now), they climbed to the top of a high hill for their vision quest, which lasted sixteen days and sixteen nights. They did not purify themselves in a sweat lodge before and after they cried for a dream, because everything was still pure. On the mountain one of the twins heard the voice of Tunkashila and answered, “Hou!” And Tunkashila showed him the path to making and keeping a flame—peta owihankeshni, the fire without end. And ultimately from the vision came the first sweat lodge. The one twin received this great vision, the other twin a lesser one. And each of them followed his own dream.

  We-Ota-Wichasha and First Woman begat other children, boys and girls from whom sprang many nations. The twin who had received the great vision also had a son, begotten with the help of a sunbeam. When that son was old enough he too went up on a high hill for his vision quest, and the hill turned itself into a nest. “Ikcheha, Ikchewi, Ikche Wichasha, that will be your name,” he heard a voice saying. “Ikche Wichasha, that is who you are,”—and that is what we Sioux have called ourselves ever since. Mark what is in this name: che, the male organ; wi, the sun; and sha, red. Together they mean “wild, common man,” a natural free human, an earth man. But all those syllables and meanings are put in to show that we are the original red sun people. Ho He!

  And the son of the twin made the first fire and built the first sweat lodge. Then he went to his parents and said. “I must leave you. I am appointed to take care of the winds of this universe.” He began walking up the hill on which he had performed his vision quest and, before the eyes of his father and mother and of We-Ota-Wichasha and First Woman, he turned himself into an eagle. The eagle-son flew off with a gift from the Great Spirit—the four seasons. They accompanied him in the shapes of the bald eagle, the spotted eagle, the golden eagle, and the northern eagle.

  We-Ota-Wichasha and First Woman saw their grandson fly away, circling higher and higher. And they went up to the mountaintop which had become a nest and found that he had left them gifts. A bow and arrow were lying there, and a rock, a spider web, and a gourd rattle. They found a fire stick and a small fire burning brightly. The eagle had scratched it out of the rock with his claw, striking a spark from the flint.

  These things had been shadows out of a vision, and eagle-son’s understanding had brought them into being, making them real. All the sacred survival things fitted themselves into the hands of We-Ota-Wichasha and First Woman, and through them were given to the red man, together with the knowledge of how to use them. And when these First Parents brought the things back to their small camp, they found it swarming with people in many camp circles of many tribes. And to them all, We-Ota-Wichasha and First Woman imparted the vision and the dream and the sacred things and the understanding. And at that moment the seven million eons of creation were ended.

  —Told by Leonard Crow Dog on Grass Mountain at Rosebud Indian Reservation, South Dakota, March 18, 1981, and recorded by Richard Erdoes.

  Leonard Crow Dog, Henry Crow Dog’s son, is a well-known Sioux medicine man and a “road man” of the Native American Church.

  [TSIMSHIAN]

  This is an older and more traditional tale about the sun and moon, in contrast with the contemporary vision of the previous story.

  In the beginning, before anything that lives in our world was created, there was only the chief in the sky. The chief had two sons and a daughter, and his people were numerous. But there was no light in the sky—only emptiness and darkness.

  The chief’s eldest son was named Walking-About-Early, the second son was called The-One-Who-Walks-All-Over-the-Sky, and the daughter was Support-of-Sun. They were all very strong, but the younger boy was wiser and abler than the elder.

  It made the younger son sad to see the sky always so dark, and one day he took his brother and went to cut some good pitch wood. They bent a slender cedar twig into a ring the size of a person’s face, then tied the pitch wood all around it so that it looked like a mask. They lit the wood, and The-One-Who-Walks-All-Over-the-Sky put on the mask and went to the east.

  Suddenly everyone saw a great light rising. As the people watched and marveled, the chief’s younger son ran from east to west, moving swiftly so that the flaming mask would not burn him.

  Every day the second son repeated his race and lit up the sky. Then the whole tribe assembled and sat down to a council. “We’re glad your child has given us light,” they told the chief. “But he’s too quick; he ought to slow down a little so we can enjoy the light longer.”

  The chief told his son what the people had said, but Walks-All-Over-the-sky replied that the mask would burn up before he reached the west. He continued to run very fast, and
the people continued to wish he would go slower, until the sister said, “I’ll try and hold him back a little.”

  The next time Walks-All-Over-the-Sky rose in the east and started on his journey, Support-of-Sun also started from the south. “Wait for me!” she cried, running as hard as she could. She intercepted her brother in the middle of his race and held him briefly until he could break free. That’s why the sun today always stops for a little while in the middle of the sky. The people shouted for joy, and Support-of-Sun’s father blessed her.

  But the chief was displeased with Walking-About-Early because he was not as smart and capable as his younger brother. The father expressed his disappointment, and Walking-About-Early was so mortified that he flung himself down and cried. Meanwhile his brother, the sun, came back tired from his daily trip and lay down to rest. Later when everybody was asleep, Walking-About-Early rubbed fat and charcoal over his face. He woke his little slave and said, “When you see me rising in the east, jump up and shout, ‘Hurrah! He has arisen!’ ”

  Then Walking-About-Early left, while Walks-All-Over-the-Sky slept deeply, his face shedding light out of the smoke hole. Suddenly Walking-about-Early rose in the east, and his charcoaled face reflected the smoke hole’s luster. The little slave jumped up and shouted, “Hurrah! He has arisen!”

  Several people asked him, “Why are you so noisy, bad slave?” The slave jumped up and down, pointing to the east. The people looked up and saw the rising moon, and they too shouted, “Hurrah!”

  Time passed, and animals were created to live in our world below. At last all the animals assembled to hold a council. They agreed that the sun should run from east to west, that he should be the light of day, and that he should make everything grow. The moon, they decided, should walk at night. Then they had to set the number of days that would be in a month. The dogs were wiser than the other animals and spoke first. “The moon shall rise for forty days,” they said.