|
Post by janggut on Jun 7, 2006 4:40:05 GMT
Batu Gambar
thanks to my late uncle Johnny, who was a great folk story teller, for the story of Batu Gambar.
a mysterious rock, somewhere near the mountain, by the stream that runs not far from my house, towards the river. a carved figure, seems to lie on the stomach with limbs outstretched. i have seen the replicas in the museum grounds yet i haven't seen the real rock. uncle Johnny (bless his soul) told me that the real one is more detailed that it even has anus! anyway, back to the story.
a long time ago, there was this girl who lived with her blind grandmother. she, although reluctant, would help her grandmother with house chores. this included taking care of her grandmother as well.
one day, she was so bored that she decided to tease her grandmother who was answering the call of nature. being blind, the grandmother did not know it was her grand-daughter who was poking her at the private parts with sticks. at first the grandmother scolded the grand-daughter as she guessed that it was her. the girl stopped for a while. then she continued. again the grandmother scolded. the poking persisted. with anger, the grandmother uttered a curse that whoever that was teasing her will turn into stone.
lightning flashed across the sky, thunder rumbled, and the girl jumped in fear. she fell on top of a big rock and at that instant, she turned to stone.
as old folks used to say, never make old people especially parents so angry that they utter curses. because curses of old people, especially parents are often potent and once uttered, can never be taken back.
explanation: batu = rock or stone in malays language, gambar = picture in malay language
|
|
|
Post by Shan on Jun 7, 2006 21:11:28 GMT
Thanks Jags for posting Batu Gambar. It was funny and I enjoyed reading it. Got any more. ;D
|
|
|
Post by Shan on Jun 7, 2006 21:16:21 GMT
For anyone travelling on the main rail line through Devon the trip along the cliffs at Dawlish is one of the most dramatic parts. However, one of the main features of that area has a rather satanic beginning.
The Parson and the Clerk
The striking rock formation of the Parson and the Clerk has already lost much of itself to the waves over the years but the legend itself stays strong.
The story begins in the distant past but as with many legends the precise timing is conveniently overlooked.
The Bishop of Exeter was, at the time, a very sick man and one local parson took it upon himself to visit him on a regular basis.
It was commonly known that these visits were not of the benevolent type and it was ambition that led the religious man to the Bishop's residence.
The parson saw himself as the next Bishop and believed his visits would stand him in good stead when the decision was made.
He was always accompanied by his clerk and relied on the servant to guide them to the house, his mind concentrated solely on fantasies of his own bishopric.
One foggy night the clerk lost his way along the narrow lanes and soon the parson and the clerk were caught in a maze of mist that neither could find a way out of.
The parson was furious. In his mind every failed visit to the Bishop gave another ambitious man the chance to jump in and make his face known.
He yelled furiously at the clerk and exclaimed, rather foolishly, "The Devil would make a better guide for me than you!"
It was soon afterwards the wandering pair found a small farmer sitting by the side of the road and begged him to help.
The old man admitted he didn't know his way to the Bishop's house but could guide them to a safe-house for the night.
They were soon led to a house where they were welcomed by the owners and were given dinner and a bed for the night.
When the two woke in the morning they were shocked to find they had been sleeping in the open on rocky ground.
Even worse they were trapped on a pillar of rock in the sea and could see their horses on a cliff in the distance.
The small old man from the night before appeared at this point and, to the shock of both the parson and the clerk, revealed himself - I'm sure you saw this coming - to be the Devil in disguise.
He cursed the two and sent them into the waves below, from then on the striking landmark became the Parson and the Clerk.
|
|
|
Post by Shan on Jun 8, 2006 0:57:09 GMT
An Irish Myth
The Children of Lir
Long ago there was a king in Ireland called Lir who was the father of four beautiful children, a son, a daughter and twin sons. Their mother (daughter of the High King of Ireland) died when they were still young and needing loving care. And so it came about that King Lir, who dearly loved his four children and wanted them to have a new mother, married his wife's sister, Aoife, and gave them into her charge.
But Aoife, seeing King Lir playing with the chidren and giving them so much of his time, became jealous of them and thought how she might have her King all to herself and the children out of the way. One night she secretly bargained with a druid for the use of his magic wand and made her plans while the children were asleep.
Next morning,when they woke to a beautiful summer's day, Aoife had perfected her plan. "Come with me," she said to the children, "Today I am going to take you to the lake and when the sun gets hot you can all go into the cool water for a swim." When noonday came and the sun was at it's height in the sky Aoife saw a dark cloud coming from the North and, fearing her plan would be spoiled, shouted "Quickly now, into the water with you all!" Then using the druid's magic wand Aoife cast a spell on the four children, turning them one by one into swans. The great dark cloud from the North turned black, shut out the sun, burst into thunder and with a scream Aoife disappeared into the cloud and was never seen again. But Aoife, with her druid's wand, had not taken away the children's human voices; she had told them they would be set free again from the spell in 900 years time when St. Patrick would come to Ireland and they would hear the sound of the first Christian bells.
And so at the end of 300 years on lake Davra, 300 years on the sea of Moyle and another 300 years on the lake isle of Glora in Mayo, the day came when they heard the distant sound of one of the first Christian bells to ring in Ireland. They immediately followed the sound until they came to the house of a Christian called Caomhog and told him what had happened to them so long ago.
They were lovingly cared for by the people of the house and people came from far and near to see the swans who could talk and sing. Then one day a princess sent her servants to try and steal the swans. But just as the servants laid hands on them the time had come for the swans to become humans again and the servants ran away terrified.
Now that the swans were again human, although 900 years old, Caomhog had them baptised and the bells rang out at their Christening. Soon afterwards, when they had died of old age, Caomhog dreamt on the very same night that he saw four beautiful children - a boy, his sister and two twin brothers flying out over the lake then straight up to heaven and he knew they really were the children of Lir.
|
|
|
Post by LaFille on Jun 8, 2006 3:21:48 GMT
Nice, janggut, thanks for writing and posting it. Ever thought about taking the relay to you uncle on storytelling? --------------------------------- Here are a few myths from the Ojibway (Ojibwe(a); known as Chippewa in the U.S.). The First Butterflies
Long ago, when human twins were born to spirit Women, she relied on the animals to take care of them. All the animals loved the first human babies and did everything they could to help them. The dog watched over them, the bear gave fur to keep them warm, the wolf hunted for them , the doe provided milk for them , the birds sang lullabies and the muskrat bathed them. The dog was an excellent guardian. The twins had only to cry and the dog jumped to his feet, his tail wagging. When he found out what was troubling the childern, he set it right, or called somebody else who could help. When the babies wanted to be amused, the dog did the best tricks he could for them. He tickled the babies into delighted laughter by licking their noses. After a long time it became clear that something was wrong with the childern. This worried the animals, who had been summoned by the bear, gathering around the twins. "Brothers." the bear said. "The childern cannot walk. They do not run and play like our childern do. What can we do to help them?"
When Nanabush* came to play with the childern, the animals told him of their concern. Nanabush thought awhile and then he said. "You have cared for the childern very well, in fact they never need to do anything for themselves. All little ones need to reach out for what they want, instead of always having everythingh haned to them. I shall find out what we can do to help the babies learn to walk." Nanabush journeyed far to the west, he called to the great spirit who was the creator of the childern and had been watching over them. The great spirit would would know what should be done to teach the childern to walk. In reply the Nanabush’s call, the great spirit told him to search along the slopes of the mountains. There he wouls find thousands of tiny sparkling stones. Nanabush did as the great dpirit had said, he collected hunderds of stones, blue, green, red, and yellow ones. Soon he had a huge pile theat gleamed through the clouds. Then he tossed a handful of stones into the air, catching them as they fell back. He threw a second handful but nopthing fell down into his stretched out hands. Nanabush looked up, to his astonishment, he saw the pebbles changing and shapes. The butterflies followed Nanabush back to the twins, who crowed with pleasure and waved their legs and stretched out their arms to the beautiful creatures. But the butterflies always fluttered just beyond the grasp of the small out stretched hands. Soon the twins began to crawl and then slowly started to walk, and even running in efforts to catch the butterflies. And these were the first butterflies.Tales the Elders Told - OJIBWAY LEGENDS By: Basil H. Johnston *Note: "To look at Nanabush, you would have thought him quite an ordinary sort of man. Unless you had seen him performing his deeds of wonder, you would never have imagined that it was he, and he alone, who created the world we see around us today. So powerful a magician was he, that he could turn himself into an animal, an old tree stump, or a maple leaf - simply by wishing it."----------------------------------------------------------------------- Jingle Dress Origin
This story is passed from generation to generation in the Ojibway Native and it came as a vision.
An Elderly man had a daughter who was very sick, he prayed and offered tobacco to his creator for his daughter to get well. A vision came to him to make his daughter a dress,
( JINGLE DRESS ) made out of jingles. She was to wear this dress to make her well.
In the Ojibway tribe of the Lake of the Woods area this is called " ODIIZEOON. " That which means something given through a vision for a particular person from the spirit world. They were instructed to prepare a feast for the dress to give thanks to the creator. The jingle dress is held very high in the Ojibway Natives. It is sacred because of its origins and the purpose it was given. It is to be treated with great respect. Lake of the Woods Museum Kenora Ontario
|
|
|
Post by janggut on Jun 8, 2006 6:57:28 GMT
this one sounds like a typical 'how something is what it is today' story. this one is a chinese tale, taken from a book which later on i will give credit. How Tiger Got Its Stripes This story took part in prehistoric times, when animal still had the power of speech. A young farmer had just stopped plowing his rice paddy. It was noon, and he sat down to eat his lunch in the shade of a banana plant near his land. Not far away his water buffalo was grazing along the grass-covered[Censored]s enclosing the rice fields. After the meal the farmer reclined and observed the stout beast, which was chewing quietly. From time to time it would chase away the obnoxious flies with a vigorous swing of its massive head. Suddenly the great beast became alarmed; the wind carried the odor of a dangerous animal. The buffalo rose to its feet, and awaited the arrival of the enemy. With the speed of lighting, a tiger sprang to the clearing. “I have not come as an enemy,” he said. “I only wish to have something to explained. I have been watching you every day from the edge of the forest, and I have observed a strange spectacle of your common labor with the man. That man, that small vertical being, who has neither great strength nor sharp vision, nor even a keen sense of smell, has been able to keep you in bondage and work you of his profit. You are actually ten times heavier than he, much stronger, and more hardened to heavy labor. Yet he rules you. What is the source of his magic power?” “To tell the truth,” said the buffalo, “I know nothing about all that. I only know I shall never be freed by his power, for he has a talisman he calls wisdom.” “I must ask him about that,” said the tiger, “because you see, if I could get this wisdom I would have even greater power over the other animals. Instead of having conceal myself and sprung on them unaware, I could simply order them to remain motionless. I could choose from all the animals, at my whim and fancy, the most delicious meats.” “Well!” replied the startled buffalo. “Why don’t you ask the farmer about the wisdom.” The tiger decided to approach the farmer. “Mr. Man,” he said, “I am big, strong and quick but I wanted more. I have heard it said that you have something called wisdom, which makes it possible for you to rule over all the animals. Can you transfer this wisdom to me? It would be of great value to me in my daily search of food.” “Unfortunately,” replied the man, “I have left my wisdom at home. I never bring with me to the fields. But if you like, I will go there for it.” “May I accompany you?” asked the tiger, delighted with what he had just heard. “No, you had better remain here,” replied the farmer, “if the villagers see you with me they may become alarmed and perhaps beat you to death. Wait here. I will find what you need and return.” And the farmer took a few steps, as if to set of homeward. But then he turned around and with wrinkled brow addressed the tiger. “I am somewhat disturbed by the possibility that during my absence you might seized with the desire to eat my buffalo. I have great need of it in my daily work. Who would repay for such a loss?” The tiger did not know what to say. The farmer continued: “If you consent, I will tie you to a tree; then my mind will be free.” The tiger want the mysterious wisdom very much- so much, in fact, that he was willing to agree to anything. He permitted the farmer to pass ropes around his body and to tie him to the trunk of a big tree. The farmer went home and gathered a great armload of dry straw. He returned to the big tree and placed the straw under the tiger and set it on fire. “Behold my wisdom!” he shouted at his unfortunate victim, as the fire encircled the tiger and burned him fiercely. The tiger roared so loudly that the neighboring trees trembled. He raged and pleaded, but the farmer would not untie him. Finally the fire burned through the ropes and he was able to free himself from cremation. He bounded away into the forest, howling with pain. In time his wounds healed, but he was never able to rid himself of the long back stripes of the ropes, which the flames had seared into his flesh.
|
|
|
Post by janggut on Jun 8, 2006 7:10:37 GMT
another set of stories from the same book, also of animals. this time they are about foxes. thanks to my sister for typing this set of stories as well as the story above. while the one above is of chinese origin, these are japanese. Three Fox Stories Long, long ago there was an acolyte called Zuiten at a mountain temple. Whenever the priest went away and left Zuiten to take care of the temple alone, a fox would come to the entrance of the priest’s living quarters and call, “Zuiten, Zuiten!” Once it was a provoking that Zuiten went around the window of the great and look out. The fox was standing with his back to the entrance. When he would brush his fat tail on the door, it made a noise, zui, and when he would knock his head on the door, it made the noise, ten. Being a clever acolyte, Zuiten quickly went back and stood by the side of the entrance. When he heard zui, he yanked the door back, so the fox, who was about to hit his head on the door for ten, came tumbling onto the dirt floor of the quarters. Shutting the door quickly, Zuiten went for a stick and started chasing the fox. While he was running after it, he lost sight of the fox. He went to the great hall and look, and the main image of the Buddha seemed to have turned into two images. He could not tell which was the fox in disguise. “Oh, well, you can’t fool me that way,” said Zuiten. “The main image of our temple always stick out his tongue whenever he has services, so I can’t make a mistake.” Then he began beating the wooden gong and reciting the sutra, and the fox-Buddha hurriedly stuck out a long tongue. “Now then, I’ll serve the food offering to our Buddha over at the quarters,” announce Zuiten. “I’ll leave the fox behind.” He hurried back to the kitchen and the mock-image came walking brazenly after him. “First of all, I must give him a bath,” said Zuiten, lifting the image into the cauldron over the hearth. Then Zuiten tied the lid in securely and build up a good fire. By the time the priest returned, the fox was cooked whole and ready for him. ****************** Long, long ago there lived an old man and an old woman in Oshu. The old woman had two eyes, all right, but the old man was one eyed. Late one day the right-eyed old man changed into a left-eyed old man and came home saying, “Now, Granny, I’m home!” “This must be the fox,” thought the old woman. Aloud she said, “You’re home drunk again, aren’t you? You always want to get into the straw rice bag when you come home drunk, you know?” Oh, that again!” answered the old and climbed into the straw bag by himself. “After you’re in the straw bag, you tell me to tie it up on the outside, don’t you?” the old woman said. “Oh, that again!” replied the old man meekly let her tie him up. “When I get a rope on this way, you always say to put you on the fire shelf and smoke you, don’t you?” said the old woman. “Oh, that again!” answered the fox again. Then the old woman swung the fox onto the shelf over the hearth and built a big fire and plagued the fox. She deliberately broiled fish and ate her supper alone, so he could smell the good things. While she was doing this, the real right-eyed man came home, and the left-eyed one on the shelf was cooked into fox soup. ******************* Long ago a Noh actor lived in Hiroshima. One day he had gone to a festival at a village by the seashore and was returning alone late at night on the road at the foot of Hijiyama. There was such a cold north wind blowing that he pulled out the mask, which he had tucked into his clothes and up it on for a protection against the wind. Then he walked on. Suddenly a man came down from Hijiyama. “Hello!” he called and stopped the actor. “You’re wearing something very unusual on your head. What do you call that thing?” he asked. “This is a Noh mask,” answered the actor. “This worn when one does the dance. “By just wearing that, do you always turn into that face?” asked the stranger. “To tell the truth, I’m the fox that lives in Hijiyama. I would like to try disguising myself like you. Please, let me have that thing called the mask.” He begged so earnestly for it that finally the actor agreed. He took off the mask and gave it away and then went home. Some time after that the feudal lord of Hiroshima set out hunting with a great company of followers. As he led them along the road below Hijiyama, a funny looking fox came out on the mountain. He didn’t seem to be the least bit afraid of men, and he made his way down the leisurely gait. “Look! A fox has come out,” the men all shouted. A crowd of samurai gathered around and promptly shot it down. Looking closely, they noticed it was wearing the mask of the former Noh actor. It looked as thought that by just putting on the mask, his body will turn into the form of man. It was said that this fox of Hijiyama was probably the most stupid of all foxes.
|
|
|
Post by Shan on Jun 8, 2006 14:34:42 GMT
Thank you, thank you, thank you, Jags. Tell your sister thank you for me too. Good stories. I love reading stories like that. It is interesting how they explain things. The girls have enjoy hearing your stories too. They thought the farmer was really mean to the tiger.
|
|
|
Post by Shan on Jun 8, 2006 14:40:29 GMT
Fille, those are good ones. I love the butterfly one. I've found alot of Native American myths and legends, but had not seen those. The girls have enjoyed these stories and the fable ones alot.
|
|
|
Post by Shan on Jun 8, 2006 17:24:45 GMT
Norse Mythology, the spirit of Scandinavia, is a joy.
All over the world people are familiar with Tolkien's Lord of the Rings and Wagner's Ring of the Nibelungs but know little of the lure of the Northern mythology to which both of these works are heavily indebted.
***********
Fenrir, child of Loki
Sigyn stayed a loyal wife to Loki when the gods punished him for the death of Balder. After the Trickster was chained to three large boulders with a poisonous snake above his head, she caught most of the dripping venom in a bowl. But it's Angrboda, the Giantess, who is the mother of his children. And what troublesome children they are!
FenrirFenrir is the eldest of the three. Fierce and terrible in his wolf form, he was captured by the gods in the middle of the night from his mother's hall and kept captive in Asgard. There he grew so large and fierce that only Tyr was brave enough to feed him. And that cost Tyr his arm! The gods became so afraid of Fenrir they decided to bind him, (killing was forbidden in Asgard) and so made a chain of iron links called Læding. They challenged the Great Wolf to be bound up in the chain to test his strength. Fenrir took the challenge and broke the bonds with no problem.
The gods then quickly made another chain from larger links, larger than even anchor chains, and they called it Dromi. They challenged Fenrir once more, and again he broke it with no problem, for he had grown even stronger since his breaking of Læding. The gods were now truly terrified.
Odin sent Freya's servant Skirnir out into the nine worlds to find someone to make a chain strong enough to bind the giant wolf. Skirnir went to the land of the dwarves in Svartalfheim where they devised a silk rope called Gleipnir. Now Gleipnir was no ordinary silk rope. It was made from the sound a cat makes when it moves, a woman's beard, the roots of a mountain, the sinews of a bear, the breath of a fish and spit from a bird. (That's why you can't find many of these things very easily nowadays.)
Skirnir hurried back to Asgard with the silk rope and gave it to Odin. The Allfather invited Fenrir to the island of Lyngvi in middle of Lake Amsvartnir to test his strength. Fenrir took the challenge. However, when he saw Gleipnir, he suspected that magic was involved and hesitated until Tyr offered to place his right hand into Fenrir's mouth. Fenrir was bound, but when he couldn't break the rope, he bit off Tyr's hand.
The gods then took a chain called Gelgja and tied it to Gleipnir, then tied Gelgja to a boulder called Gjoll and drove Gjoll one mile into the earth. After that was done, they placed an even larger boulder called Thviti on top of Gjoll.
The gods then gagged Fenrir with a sword, placing the tip on the roof of his mouth and the hilt on his lower jaw. And that is where he will be until Ragnarok !
When Ragnarok comes, Fenrir's chain will break, and he will join his father, brother, sister and the giants in the mighty battle that will end the nine worlds. Fenrir and Odin will be the first to engage into battle, but in the end he will swallow Odin, killing the Allfather. Odin's son Vidar will then come forward to tear Fenrir apart avenging his father and killing the wolf son of Loki.
|
|
|
Post by Shan on Jun 8, 2006 17:36:19 GMT
From Scandinavian Myths
Valkyries, Battle Maidens of the Gods
When you see a Valkyrie before battle, know then, that you will die, for their primary duty is to choose the bravest of those who have been slain, gathering the souls of dying heros.
Valkyries! They gallop across the skies over bloody battles, bright armour gleaming in the sun, distributing death lots among the warriors. On great white steeds you see them, urging on the champions, their cries weaving with the clash of weapons and the screams of the dying. They wheel through the ranks of the slain and judge the bravery of each man. For Valkyries conduct the souls of slain heroes to Valhalla, the great hall of Odin All-Father.
Valkyries are said to choose carefully amongst the slain warriors, allowing only the souls of the bravest to enter heaven. If a Viking warrior falters in his fight, if he is struck down while fleeing, he is not worthy. There is no joyous welcome into the Great Hall of Valhalla for the coward, instead the cold underground awaits him, a desolate afterlife presided over by the goddess Hel.
Corpse Goddess
A Valkyrie is originally a corpse goddess, represented by the carrion-eating raven. The name in Old Norse, valkyrja, means literally, "chooser of the slain." She is another aspect of the Celtic warrior-goddess, The Mhorrigan, who also assumes the form of the raven. As the Viking Lady tells it, the Valkyrie who can weave victory can also weave defeat, for the Valkyrie had the art of the war-fetter, which allowed the valkyrie to bind a warrior with terror, or release a favored warrior from those same bonds. Like the Norns, the valkyries are intimately involved in weaving or spinning the fates of men
The leader of the Battle Valkryies is Brunehilde, made popular by Wagner in his music. Brunehilde has the privilege of high rank and works directly with the goddess Freya who receives half of all the heroes slain in battle- (Odin gets the other half.)
Or perhaps Brunehilde is Freya
The delightful strawberry blonde Freya is the goddess of fertlity, sexuality and beauty. She is known for travelling in a chariot drawn by cats, and lives in the celestial realm of Folkvang. Our day Friday is named after Freya, the Northern European aspect of the southern Venus.
Swan Maidens
The Valkyries also share the folkloric motif of the swan maidens, young girls who are able to take on the form of a swan. If you could capture and hold a swan maiden, or seize her feathered cloak, you could make her grant your wish.. Swan-maidens are found in folk stories all across Europe. In a typical tale, a man spies upon a group of women bathing in a lake. He is discovered, the women rise from the water, wrapping themselves in feather cloaks, change into swans and fly away. The man grabs one cloak, a swan maiden is trapped. He marries her and she bears him sons, but finally she finds her hidden cloak, immediately puts it on and leaves, without a backward glance.
The Valkyries today
Valkyries, as messengers of Odin Allfather, ride forth on their errands with their shining armour glistening and sparkling in the night sky. You can see this eerie flickering light today in the Aurora Borealis. Next time you look up at the Northern Lights give a greeting to the Battle Maidens. Raise your glass as they gallop past attired in scarlet corselets and gleaming helmets, with shields and spears held aloft. Remember, they are carrying a horn of mead for the slain champion who waits to be welcomed to Valhalla.
The Valkyries will stop their wild rides at Ragnorak, when the world ends.
|
|
|
Post by Shan on Jun 9, 2006 1:01:05 GMT
From the Creek/Muscogee Tribe
Why Opossum Has A Bare Tail
One day, Opossum was walking in the woods around sunset when he spied Raccoon. Now Opossum had always admired Raccoon because he had a beautiful tail with rings all around it.
So Opossum went up to Raccoon and said: "How did you get those pretty rings on your tail?"
Raccoon stroked his fluffy long tail fondly and said: "Well, I wrapped bark around the tail here and here and here," he pointed. "Then I stuck my tail into the fire. The fur between the strips of bark turned black and the places underneath the bark remained white, just as you see!"
Opossum thanked the Raccoon and hurried away to gather some bark. He wrapped the bark around his furry tail, built a big bonfire, and stuck his tail into the flames. Only the bonfire was too hot and too fierce. It instantly burned all of the hair off the Opossum's tail, leaving it entirely bare.
Opossum wailed and moaned when he saw his poor tail, but there was nothing he could do but wait for the fur to grow back. Opossum waited and waited and waited. But the tail was too badly burnt by the fire and the fur did not grow back. Opossum's tail remained bare for the rest of his life.
Opossum tails have been bare ever since.
|
|
|
Post by Shan on Jun 9, 2006 1:02:56 GMT
From the Cree Tribe
Who Calls
By the time he finished his daily tasks, the light was failing. But everything he needed to accomplish before he made the journey to visit his betrothed was complete. He was eager to see his love, so he set out immediately, in spite of the growing darkness. He would paddle his canoe through the night and be with his beloved come the dawn.
The river sang softly to itself under the clear night sky. He glanced up through the trees, identifying certain favorite stars and chanting softly to himself, his thoughts all of her. Suddenly, he heard his named called out. He jerked back to awareness, halting his paddling and allowing the canoe to drift as he searched for the speaker.
"Who calls?" he asked in his native tongue, and then repeated the words in French: "Qu'Appelle?"
There was no response.
Deciding that he had imagined the incident, he took up his paddle and continued down the dark, murmuring rivers. A few moments later, he heard his name spoken again. It came from everywhere, and from nowhere, and something about the sound reminded him of his beloved. But of course, she could no be here in this empty place along the river. She was at home with her family.
"Who calls?" he asked in his native tongue, and then repeated the words in French: "Qu'Appelle?"
His words echoed back to him from the surrounding valley, echoing and reverberating. The sound faded away and he listened intently, but there was no response.
The breeze swirled around him, touching his hair and his face. For a moment, the touch was that of his beloved, his fair-one, and he closed his eyes and breathed deep of the perfumed air. Almost, he thought he heard her voice in his ear, whispering his name. Then the breeze died away, and he took up his paddle and continued his journey to the home of his love.
He arrived at dawn, and was met by his beloved's father. One look at the old warrior's face told him what had happened. His beloved, his fair one was gone. She had died during the night while he was journeying to her side. Her last words had been his name, uttered twice, just before she breathed her last.
He fell on his knees, weeping like a small child. Around him, the wind rose softly and swirled through his hair, across his cheek, as gentle as a touch. In his memory, he heard his beloved's voice, calling to him in the night. Finally, he rose, took the old warrior's arm and helped him back to his home.
To this day, travelers on the Qu'Appelle River can still hear the echo of the Cree warrior's voice as he reaches out to the spirit of his beloved, crying: "Qu'Appelle? Who calls?"
|
|
|
Post by janggut on Jun 9, 2006 1:59:30 GMT
the last two stories i posted earlier (How Tiger Got Its Stripes, Three Fox Stories) are from the book Asian-Pacific Folktales & Legends edited by Jeannette Faurot, published by Touchstone (Simon & Shuster) in 1995. for anyone who's interested, here is the ISBN: 0-684-81507-9 (hardcover), 0-684-81197-9 (paperback).
correction: the story 'How Tiger Got Its Stripes' is from Vietnam, not China.
& now to another folktale. this one is also another how-things-came-to-be which yet again is from Vietnam. enjoy!
The Mosquito
Ngoc Tam, a modest farmer, had married Nhan Diep. the two young people were poor but in excellent health, & they seemed destined to enjoy the happiness of a simple rural life. the husband worked the paddy & cultivated a small field of mulberry trees, & the wife engaged in raising silkworms.
but Nhan Diep was a coquette at heart. she was lazy, & dreamt of luxury & pleasures. she was also clever enough to hide her desires & ambitions from her husband, whose love was genuine, but neither demanding nor discerning. he supposed his wife to be content with her lot & happy in her daily chores. Ngoc Tam toiled diligently, hoping to ease their poverty & improve their station in life.
suddenly Nhan Diep was carried away by death. Ngoc Tam was plunged into such deep sorrow that he would not leave his wife's body & opposed its burial.
one day, after having sold his possessions, he embarked in a sampan with the coffin & sailed away.
one morning he found himself at the foot of a fragrant, green hill which perfumed the countryside.
he went ashore & discovered a thousand rare flowers & orchards of trees laden with the most varied kinds of fruit.
there he met an old man who supported himself with a bamboo cane. his hair was white as cotton & his face wrinkled & sunburned, but under his blond eyelashes his eyes sparkled like those of a young boy. by this last trait, Ngoc Tam recognised the genie of medicine, who travelled throughout the world on his mountain, Thien Thai, to teach his science to the men of the earth & to alleviate their ills.
Ngoc Tam threw himself at the genie's feet.
then the genie spoke to him: "having learnt of your virtues, Ngoc Tam, i have stopped my mountain on your route. if you wish, i will admit you to the company of my disciples."
Ngoc Tam thanked him profusely but said that he desired only to live with his wife. he had never thought of nay life other than the one he would lead with her, & he begged the genie to bring her back to life.
the genie looked at him with kindness mixed with pity and said, "why do you cling to this world of bitterness & gall? the rare joys of this world are only a snare. how foolish you were to entrust your destiny to a weak & inconstant being! i want to grant your wishes, but i fear that you will regret it later."
then, on the genie's order, Ngoc Tam opened the coffin; he cut the tip of his finger & let three drops of blood fall on Nhan Diep's body. the latter opened her eyes slowly, as if awakening from a deep sleep. then her faculties quickly returned.
"do not forget your obligations," the genie said to her. "remember your husband's devotion. may you both be happy."
on the voyage home Ngoc Tam rowed day & night, eager to reach his native land again. one evening he went ashore in a certain port to buy provisions. during his absence a large ship came alongside the wharf, & the owner, a rich merchant, was struck by Nhan Diep's beauty. he entered into conversation with her & invited her to have refreshments onboard his vessel. as soon as she was aboard, he gave the order to cast off & sailed away.
Ngoc Tam searched an entire month for his wife before locating her aboard the merchant's vessel.
she answered his questions without the least hesitation, but had grown accustomed to her new life. it satisfied her completely & she refused to return home with him. then for the first time, Ngoc Tam saw her in her true light. suddenly he felt all love for her vanish, & he no longer desired her return.
"you are free," he said to her. "only return to me the three drops of blood that i gave you to bring you back to life. i do not want to leave the least trace of myself in you."
happy to be set free so cheaply, Nhan Diep took a knife & cut the tip of her finger. but, as soon as the blood began to flow, she turned pale & sank to the ground. an instant later she was dead.
even so, the lighthearted frivolous woman could not resign herself to leave this world forever. she returned in the form of a small insect & followed Ngoc Tam relentlessly, in order to steal the three drops of blood from him, which would restore her to human life. day & night she worried her former husband, buzzing around him incessantly, protesting her innocence, & begging his pardon. later, she received the name of mosquito. unfortunately for us, her race has multiplied many times.
|
|
|
Post by janggut on Jun 9, 2006 2:03:49 GMT
@ Fille -> i don't think i can be as great a storyteller as my uncle Johnny (bless his soul). he could make scary stories a lot scarier, funny stories a lot funnier & sad stories a lot sadder. i can still remember the time when he told stories to my brother & i back when we were kids & we were camping at a spot not far from where my house is now. @ Shan -> thanks, mommy. glad the girls like the stories. i will try to post more next time.
|
|
|
Post by LaFille on Jun 9, 2006 4:04:27 GMT
Shan, I'm glad you and the girls liked. janggut, I'm sure you can, with practice, if you want. I didn't have the time to read your last ones yet so I'll get back to it later. Except the Cree one. Where is Qu'Appelle river, do you know?
|
|
|
Post by LaFille on Jun 9, 2006 4:10:07 GMT
Here is one a lot of people heard the word but don't know what it is. The Windigo SpiritThe dreaded Windigo is the most horrible creature in the lands of the Cree and Ojibway Indians. Nothing strikes more terror in the hearts of the Anishinabek than the thoughts of Windigo.
The cannibalistic Windigos strike from the north during the first moons of the winter and will restlessly haunt out lands searching for food as far to the south as the snow belt extends. Windigos’ have been known to attack during the summer but this is very rare.
The Windigo was once a normal human being but having been being possessed by a savage cannibalistic spirit. When a human is possessed by Windigo, ice forms inside the human body, hair grows profusely from the face, arms and legs and an insatiable craving for human flesh develops.
When the ugly creature attacks it shows men no mercy whatsoever. This monster will kill and devour its own family to try and satisfy its lust for human flesh. The Windigo is inhuman because of the powerful spirit of cannibalism and destruction residing in its own body. When a Windigo has destroyed its own people, it will travel in a straight line across the forest until it finds the next group of victims. Usually high winds and blizzards accompany the Windigo in its travels. It is said that the scream of a Windigo will paralyze a man, preventing him from protecting himself. Sometimes an attack by a Windigo can be turned away by a powerful medicine man and this has occurred.
There is a place at Sandy Lake Ghost Point that was marauded and destroyed by a Windigo in the old days. Those remains of the village are still there today.Sacred Legends of the Sandy Lake Cree Told by: Carl Ray and James Stevens. --------------------------------------------------------------- Another version. Windigo-The Evil SpiritThere are many Ojibway beliefs about Windigo that live among the Ojibway tribes.
Windigo is an evil spirit that lives among the helpless and needy. Windigo lives in the north and when his hunger kicks in he preys on the weak, which in turn the weak have bad dreams and that those are the ones that he possesses. Windigo finds these people and he promises them many great things and puts false hope in their hearts, so they agree to give him a place in their hearts and dream, then when the time comes when out of no reason the person has a craving for meat, which he tries to satisfy by eating moose or deer meat but is unable to satisfy the craving of human flesh. Especially when the person falls asleep the Windigo enters his body and beings to change into the spirit himself. Windigo’s main hunger for human flesh leaves’ nothing but disaster and fear among the Ojibway people.
Another story that the Ojibway people have repeated over the years is that in the winter where the deer and moose head for the winter, you must arrive early to set up a good hunting ground and if you are later and have a poor hunting grounds, then your family will starve and the Windigo spirit will enter your body and play with your vision. You or any of your family members who have the Windigo spirit in you will begin to see your family members as Beavers, for a short time you will fight the need of killing the so-called beaver, but the temptation will grow stronger and if you are strong enough, you will be able to warn your family, but if not then your family becomes another meal for Windigo.Legends of my People: The Great Ojibway Illustrated and told by Norval Morriseau
|
|
|
Post by LaFille on Jun 9, 2006 4:13:36 GMT
How Dogs Came To The Indians (An Ojibwa story)
Two Ojibwa Indians in a canoe had been blown far from shore by a great wind. They had gone far and were hungry and lost. They had little strength left to paddle, so they drifted before the wind.
At last their canoe was blown onto a beach and they were glad, but not for long. Looking for the tracks of animals, they saw some huge footprints that they knew must be those of a giant. They were afraid and hid in the bushes. As they crouched low, a big arrow thudded into the ground close beside them. Then a huge giant came toward them. A caribou hung from his belt, but the man was so big that it looked like a rabbit. He told them that he did not hurt people and he like to be a friend to little people, who seemed to the giant to be so helpless. He asked the two lost Indians to come home with him, and since they had no food and their weapons had been lost in the storm at sea, they were glad to go with him.
An evil Windigo spirit came to the lodge of the giant and told the two men that the giant had other men hidden away in the forest because he like to eat them. The Windigo pretended to be a friend, but he was the one who wanted the men because he was an eater of people. The Windigo became very angry when the giant would not give him the two men, and finally the giant became angry too. He took a big stick and turned over a big bowl with it.
A strange animal which the Indians had never seen before lay on the floor, looking up at them. It looked like a wolf to them, but the giant called the animal 'Dog.' The giant told him to kill the evil Windigo spirit. The beast sprang to its feet, shook himself, and started to grow, and grow, and grow. The more he shook himself, the more he grew and the fiercer he became. He sprang at the Windigo and killed him; then the dog grew smaller and smaller and crept under the bowl.
The giant saw that the Indians were much surprised and pleased with Dog and said that he would give it to them, though it was his pet. He told the men that he would command Dog to take them home. They had no idea how this could be done, though they had seen that the giant was a maker of magic, but they thanked the friendly giant for his great gift.
The giant took the men and the dog to the seashore and gave the dog a command. At once it began to grow bigger and bigger, until it was nearly as big as a horse. The giant put the two men onto the back of the dog and told them to hold on very tightly. As Dog ran into the sea, he grew still bigger and when the water was deep enough he started to swim strongly away from the shore.
After a very long time, the two Ojibwa began to see a part of the seacoast that they knew, and soon the dog headed for shore. As he neared the beach, he became smaller and smaller so that the Indians had to swim for the last part of their journey. The dog left them close to their lodges and disappeared into the forest. When the men told their tribe of their adventure, the people though that the men were speaking falsely. "Show us even the little mystery animal, Dog, and we shall believe you," a chief said.
A few moons came and went and then, one morning while the tribe slept, the dog returned to the two men. It allowed them to pet it and took food from their hands. The tribe was very much surprised to see this new creature. It stayed with the tribe.
That, as the Indians tell, was how the first dog came to the earth.
|
|
|
Post by LaFille on Jun 10, 2006 3:50:02 GMT
janggut, seems like foxes were pretty common by there to have so many stories of eating some, eh? Good ones, especially the one about the origin of mosquitoes. ;D Thanks to your sister too. Shan, I loved the Norse mythology ones. Here is one from Nouvelle-France (a French Canadian legend), La Chasse-galerie (The Bewitched Canoe). "It is a tale of voyageurs who make a deal with the Devil. In Quebec, the legend of the 'chasse-galerie', or bewitched canoe, is a favorite. Its most famous version was written by Honoré Beaugrand (1848 - 1906?). It was published in The Century in August 1892." (Wikipedia) It is pretty long so I link to a pdf document (there's also a werevolf story after in the same file); enjoy. They left several expressions in French though, so here is a link to a good online dictionary should you want to use it.
|
|
|
Post by LaFille on Jun 10, 2006 3:59:00 GMT
Why The Leaves Have Many Colors In Autumn (Wyandot/Huron legend)
The wise men turned to him who wrote, Then they looked at the trees on many hills. It was the autumn. The leaves had many colors.They said, " We will tell you the story of the battle fought by the deer and the bear in the land of the sky."
The bear was selfish and proud. He often made trouble among the Animals of the Great Council. When he heard that the Deer had walked over the rainbow Bridge into the sky land he was angry. "I WILL PUNISH THE DEER " he said.
The Bear went to the Rainbow Bridge He leaped along its beautiful way of glowing colors. He came into the sky land. There he found the deer and said to him; This sky land is the home of the Little turtle, Why did you come into this land? Why did you not come to meet us in the Great Council? Why did you not wait until all the Animals could come to live here?
Then the Deer was angry, Only the Wolf might ask him such questions. The Bear had no right to speak like that to the Deer.
The Deer said to the bear, you have gone about making trouble among the Animals long enough You shall never do that again.
The Deer said he would kill the Bear he arched his neck. He tossed his head to show his long sharp horns. The hair along his back stood up. His eyes blazed as if a fire burned in them. He thought to slay the bear with a single stroke of his terrible horns.
The Bear was not afraid. His claws were very strong. He stood erect for the mighty conflict. His deep growls shook the sky like rolling thunder. The struggle was terrific and long. The Bear was torn by the cruel horns of the Deer.
When the remaining Animals of the great Council heard the awful noise, the Wolf went up into the sky to stop the dreadful battle.
All the animals had to obey the Wolf, So the Deer turned and ran away. And the Bear fled along the paths of the sky. As the Deer ran, the Blood of the Bear dropped from his horns. It fell down to the Lower World and made the leaves of the trees many colors. Some were Red, some Yellow, Some were Brown. Some Scarlet, and some Crimson.
Now each year when the Autumn comes the leaves of the trees take on these many colors. The forests are flooded with soft and glowing beauty. The Wyandots then say the blood of the Bear has again been thrown down from the sky upon the trees of the Great Island.
|
|