Showing posts with label stories. Show all posts
Showing posts with label stories. Show all posts

2019-07-31

Three Braves and the Great Bear


Long ago, the Great Bear wandered freely throughout the sky. His massive paws took him far across the boundless ceiling of the world. He hunted and fished, feeding there in the rivers of the sky. All throughout the first spring he did this, until his belly was full and he was happy.

Little did he know that three braves had discovered him feeding that spring and they sought his meat and pelt to feed their families in the long winter that they knew was coming....

... I am so sorry, but this post has been moved to my new website, Feathers and Bones hosted at shirleytwofeathers.com, and can be found in its entirety here: Three Braves and the Great Bear

The Spirit of the Corn

The Spirit of the Corn
An Iroquois Legend
by Harriet Maxwell Converse (Adapted)



There was a time, says the Iroquois grandmother, when it was not needful to plant the corn- seed nor to hoe the fields, for the corn sprang up of itself, and filled the broad meadows. Its stalks grew strong and tall, and were covered with leaves like waving banners, and filled with ears of pearly grain wrapped in silken green husks.

In those days Onatah, the Spirit of the Corn, walked upon the earth. The sun lovingly touched her dusky face with the blush of the morning, and her eyes grew soft as the gleam of the stars on dark streams. Her night-black hair was spread before the breeze like a wind-driven cloud....

... I am so sorry, but this post has been moved to my new website, Feathers and Bones hosted at shirleytwofeathers.com, and can be found in it's entirety here: The Spirit Of The Corn

2008-07-28

La Loba

La LobaThere is an old woman who lives in a hidden place that everyone knows in their souls but few have ever seen. As in the fairy tales of Eastern Europe, she seems to wait for lost or wandering people and seekers to come to her place.

She is circumspect, often hairy, always fat, and especially wishes to evade most company. She is both a crower and a cackler, generally having more animal sounds than human ones.

I might say she lives among the rotten granite slopes in Tarahumara Indian territory. Or that she is buried outside Phoenix near a well. Perhaps she will be seen traveling south to Monte Alban in a burnt out car with the back window shot out. Or maybe she will be spotted standing by the highway near El Paso, or riding shotgun with truckers to Morelia, Mexico, or walking to market above Oaxaca with strangely formed boughs of firewood on her back. She calls herself by many names: La Huesera, Bone Woman; La Trapera, The Gatherer; and La Loba, Wolf Woman.

The sole work of La Loba is the collecting of bones. She collects and preserves especially that which is in danger of being lost to the world. Her cave is filled with the bones of all manner of desert creatures: the deer, the rattlesnake, the crow. But her specialty is wolves.

She creeps and crawls and sifts through the mountains, and arroyos, looking for wolf bones, and when she has assembled an entire skeleton, when the last bone is in place and the beautiful white sculpture of the creature is laid out before her, she sits by the fire and thinks about what song she will sing.

And when she is sure, she stands over the criatura, raises her arms over it, and sings out. That is when the rib bones and leg bones of the wolf begin to flesh out and the creature becomes furred. La Loba sings some more, and more of the creature comes into being; its tail curls upward, shaggy and strong.

And La Loba sings more and the wolf creature begins to breathe.

And still La Loba sings so deeply that the floor of the desert shakes, and as she sings, the wolf opens its eyes, leaps up, and runs away down the canyon.

Somewhere in its running, whether by the speed of its running, or by splashing its way into a river, or by way of a ray of sunlight or moonlight hitting it right in the side, the wolf is suddenly transformed into a laughing woman who runs free toward the horizon.

So remember if you wander the desert, and it is near sundown, and you are perhaps a little bit lost, and certainly tired, that you are lucky, for La Loba may take a liking to you and show you something - something of the soul.

~from Women Who Run With the Wolves
by Clarissa Pinkola Estes

Source: shirleytwofeathers

2008-07-26

Strikes Two Woman

This small story, told by Pretty Shield, a famous Crow shaman, is about Strikes Two, a powerful woman shaman and warrior who rode out bravely against Lakota tribesmen who attacked her village. I want to be her!

I saw Strikes Two, a woman sixty years old, riding around camp on a gray horse. She carried only her root-digger, and she was singing her medicine song as though Lakota bullets and arrows were not flying around her.

Then I heard her say, "Now all of you sing: 'They are whipped. They are running away.' Keep singing these words until I come back."

When the men, and even the women, began to sing as Strikes Two told them, she rode straight out at the Lakota waving her root-digger, and singing that song. I saw her, I heard her, and my heart swelled, because she was a woman.

The Lakota, afraid of her medicine, turned and ran away. The fight was won, and by a woman.


2008-07-10

In the Womb of the Rainbow Serpent

rainbow_serpent


Long ago the old people used to tell the story of an orphan boy who was always crying and was eaten by the Rainbow Serpent. Once when he was walking around an old lady asked him, 'Why are you crying?' The orphan said, 'They refuse to give me any manburrangkali lily roots.' 'Is that so?' replied the old lady.

Then that old lady went and got a different kind of lily root for him. The orphan was still lying down crying when she brought him back a bag full of yaldanj lily roots.

She placed the lily roots on the ground while she went and got some firewood. She returned and lit the fire and cooked them all. The old woman said, 'Come and eat these yaldanj lily roots.' The orphan stood there and said, 'I don't want those lily roots, I don't like them.'

So he kept crying - he was walking around crying, so another man got up and went to get some bush honey. When he returned he showed the boy and said, 'Come and eat some honey.'

The orphan stood there and said, 'I don't want any honey, I don't like it.' 'Is that so?' said the man. 'Okay, you just cry, and leave my honey alone.'

So he just kept crying. Another lady then got up and said, 'Let me go and get some long yams for him, otherwise he will always be crying.' Then she went and got some long yams for him, filled her dilly bag, returned, put them on the ground, went for firewood, lit the fire, and roasted the yams.

When they were cooked she said, 'Come and eat some long yams.' The orphan said, 'I don't want those long yams.' 'Is that so?' said the old woman.

The people said to him, 'Okay, you just cry, because you didn't want the long yams, the honey, the yaldanj lily roots, because you are always thinking of the taste of those sweet manburrangkali lily roots, because you have an insatiable desire.'

Now there were lots of old people sitting there, and they said to him, 'Why can't you stop crying? Will you always be crying then? Soon the Rainbow Serpent will eat us.' They told him this but he did not stop crying - he was always crying. He cried and cried.

Now there was a Rainbow Serpent at Miya, to the north. The Rainbow Serpent lifted up her head, looked around, listened very carefully, and heard him crying at Mayawunj in the south. That Rainbow Serpent said, 'I will go south to that place and eat them.'

Then the Rainbow Serpent started, she went underground and kept going, she was getting closer to them. When she came to them, she came out of the ground in the south, lifted her head and saw them. She said, 'Ah, this is the place where that orphan is crying - this is where they are camping.'

Then she appeared near them. The people had been looking to the north and had seen something like a fire or a light shining on them and they cried out in fear.

Then they told the men, 'Quick, spear it! Do you want it to eat us?' They kept trying to spear it, but they always missed it, so they said, 'That's it, bad luck. It's no good, the Rainbow Serpent will just have to eat us.'

In fear they tried to run away. The Rainbow Serpent was watching them and hooked her tail around them all, the orphan with them. That Rainbow Serpent ate the orphan first, biting his head and swallowing it. Then she ate the others. This made the Rainbow Serpent from Miya full.

That is what happened at Mayawunj in the south - she went under the ground and was lying there with the people and the insatiable child within her belly, sleeping in the south ready to reawaken.

~Gunwinggu Oenpelli

2008-06-30

An Inexplicable Joy


Igluik, an Eskimo shaman describes his shamanic enlightenment:

"I endeavored to become a shaman by the help of others; but in this I did not succeed. I visited many famous shamans, and gave them great gifts... I sought solitude, and here I soon became very melancholy. I would sometimes fall to weeping, and feel unhappy without knowing why.

.. I am so sorry, but this post has been moved to my new website, Feathers and Bones hosted at shirleytwofeathers.com, and can be found in its entirety here: A Shamanic Enlightenment

2008-06-25

Morning Meditation - A Bear Story

Amber Canyon


So, today I talked to an old story teller. He told me the following story:

One day Bear, who was a very large bear and very hungry, went down to the river to do some fishing.

On his way, he came to a small round house in which lived a brother and a sister.

"Aha!" said the bear, "Here I have a nice big nut to crack!"

He clapped his powerful hands together and crushed the house between them. He was so forceful that the house was crushed. But with the force of the blow, the two siblings flew right out of the top of the house and landed - quite by accident - at the top of a very tall tree.

Bear was not to be deterred, he thought these two "kernels" might be tender and tasty, so he climbed up the tree.

The tree, however, was unable to bear his weight and broke in half, sending the twins flying. They landed in the river and were immediately swept downstream.

Bear shook himself and thought about what to do... there was the river full of fat big fish, there were the two "kernels" disappearing downstream. He looked at the fish swimming under the water - he looked downstream - he looked bat at the fish, right there, almost underfoot. I'll just have one or two for a snack, he thought, and next thing you know he had a full belly and was taking a nap.

The twins were very frightened, the river carried them over rocks and around bends... they had many adventures... and they never stopped running from the bear who had long since forgotten all about them.


~what's this?

2008-06-20

Thunderbird


The Big Hawk Who Hides Behind the Clouds is a very important symbol to Native people. To some, Thunderbird calls the Thunder Beings, to others, they are one and the same; to others still, the Thunderbird is the servant of the thunderers, the symbol and messenger of these beings of fire.

The thunderbird is said to be the biggest hawk to have ever lived on earth. This magnificent hawk was not only good and kindly but very powerful as well. He could sing beautiful songs that would gather others to counsel. He could also sing a song that would draw the rain clouds near. His songs made small game surrender to his mighty talons.

Alas, this mighty bird fell prey to his own ego. He got swept up in his own greatness and became awed with himself. In his dance of arrogance during his last time on earth he was raised to Spirit in a burst of fire from a thunderbolt. Creator gave him another chance by making him a servant to the Thunder BEings, where he gained pleasure by serving others and learning his place in the universe.

Thunderbird lives in Spirit now but comes sometimes to teach us about goodness, kindness, cleansing, and healing. He also reminds us of the fiery pain of displaying too much arrogance. Thunderbird teaches us to rise out of our arrogance and go to serve and heal the people.

~Sun Bear

2008-06-18

The Story of False Face

The story of False Face
as told by Mad Bear Anderson.


I will tell you his story - who he is and how he came to look like that. But he is gone on now, evolved beyond this. These Beings have graduated and gone to a higher world - and they are high, high, high, beyond us. Yet we keep the False Face in this form and we pay honor and respect to it. It reminds us of a lesson far ahead of us - a hard lesson that we have yet to learn.

I call him False face even though that wasn't his name at his time. That was never the name of him or his people but that is how we refer to it. False Face had studied and learned all the basic things in the universe. Then he had prepared and developed himself in all the medicine ways. It took centuries of hard work, but eventually he developed all the spiritual powers known on this Earth. He knew all the ways of the Creator.

One day False Face stood out in a large field looking at the skies and at the mountains in the distance...

... I am so sorry, but this post has been moved to my new website, Feathers and Bones, hosted at shirleytwofeathers.com, and can be found in its entirety here: The Story of False Face

2008-06-06

The Story of Grandfather Peyote

This is how Grandfather Peyote came to the Indian people.

Long ago, before the white man, there was a tribe living far south of the Sioux in a land of deserts and mesas. These people were suffering from a sickness, and many died of it.

One old woman had a dream that she would find a herb, a root, which would save her people. The woman was old and frail but, taking her little granddaughter, she went on a vision quest to learn how to find this sacred herb. They walked away from the camp until they were lost.

Arriving at the top of a lonely hill, the grandmother made a brush shelter for herself and the young one. Without water or food they were weak, and as night fell they huddled together, not knowing what to do. Suddenly they felt the wing beats of a huge bird, an eagle flying from the east toward the west. The old woman raised her arms and prayed to the eagle for wisdom and power. Toward morning they saw the figure of a man floating in the air about four steps above their heads. The old woman heard a voice:

"You want water and food and do not know where to find it. I have a medicine for you. It will help you."

This man's arm was pointing to a spot on the ground about four steps from where the old woman was sitting. She looked and saw a peyote plant - a large Grandfather Peyote Plant with sixteen segments. She did not know what it was, but she took her bone knife and cut the green part off. And there was moisture, the peyote juice, the water of life. The old woman and her granddaughter drank it and were refreshed.

The sun went down again and the second night came. The old woman prayed to the spirit:

"I am sacrificing myself for the people. Have pity on me. Help me!"

And the figure of a man appeared again, hovering above her as before, and she heard a voice saying:

"You are lost now, but you will find your people again and you will save them. When the sun rises two more times, you will find them."

The grandmother ate some more of the sacred medicine and gave some to the girl. And a power entered them through the herb, bringing them knowledge and understanding and a sacred vision. Experiencing this new power, the old woman and her granddaughter stayed awake all night. Yet in the morning when the sun rose and shone upon the hide bag with the peyote, the old one felt strong.

She said: "Granddaughter, pray with this new herb. It has no mouth, but it is telling me many things."

During the third night the spirit came again and taught the old woman how to show her people the proper way to use the medicine. In the morning she got up, thinking:

"This one plant won't be enough to save my people. Could it have been the only herb in this world? How can I find more?" Then she heard many small voices calling:

"Over here, come over here. I'm the one to pick."

These were peyote plants guiding her to their hiding places among the thorn bushes and chaparral. So the old woman and the girl picked the herbs and filled the hide bag with them.

At nightfall once more they saw the spirit man, silhouetted against the setting sun. He pointed out the way to their camp so that they could return quickly.

Though they had taken no food or water for four days and nights, the sacred medicine had kept them strong- hearted and strong-minded. When they arrived home, their relatives were happy to have them back, but everybody was still sick and many were dying. The old woman told the people:

"I have brought you a new sacred medicine which will help you."

She showed the men how to use this *pejuta*, this holy herb. The spirit had taught her the ceremony, and the medicine had given her the knowledge through the mind power which dwells within it. Under her direction the men put up a tipi and made a fire. At that time there was no leader, no roadman to guide them, and the people had to learn how to perform the ceremony step by step, from the ground up.

Everybody, men and women, old and young, ate four buttons of the new medicine. A boy baby was breast nursing, and the peyote power got into him through his mother's milk. He was sucking his hand, and he began to shake it like a gourd rattle. A man sitting next to the tipi entrance got into the power and caught a song just by looking at the baby's arm. A medicine man took a rattle of rawhide and began to shake it. The small stones inside the rattle were the voice of Grandfather Peyote, and everybody understood what it was saying. Another man grabbed a drum and beat it, keeping time with the song and the voice inside the rattle. The drumming was good, but it did not yet have the right sound, because in that first ceremony there was no water in the drum.

One woman felt the spirit telling her to look for a cottonwood tree. After the sun rose, all the people followed her as Grandfather Peyote guided her toward the west. They saw a rabbit jumping out of a hole inside a dried-up tree and knew that this was the sacred cottonwood. They cut down the tree and hollowed out the trunk like a drum where the rabbit hole had been. At the woman's bidding they filled it with fresh spring water - the water of life.

On the way back to camp, a man felt the power telling him to pick up five smooth, round pebbles and to cover the drum with a piece of tanned moose hide. He used the pebbles to make knobs around the rim of the drum so that he could tie the hide to it with a rawhide thong. And when he beat the drum it sounded good, as if a spirit had gotten hold of it.

When night came, the people made a fire inside the tipi and took the medicine again. Guided by peyote power, the old woman looked into the flames and saw a heart, like the heart-shaped leaf of the cottonwood tree. Thus she knew that the Great Spirit, who is also in Grandfather Peyote, wanted to give his heart to the red men of this continent. She told the man tending the fire to form the glowing embers into the shape of a heart, and the people all saw it beat in rhythm with the drum.

A little later, one helper who was under the spirit power saw that the hide rope formed a star at the bottom of the drum. He shaped the glowing coals of the fire into a star and then into a moon, because the power of the star and the spirit of the moon had come into the tipi.

One man sitting opposite the door had a vision in which he was told to ask for water. The old woman brought fresh, cool water in a skin bag, and they all drank and in this way came under the power. Feeling the spirit of the water, the man who was in charge of the fire shaped the embers into the outline of a water bird, and from then on the water bird became the chief symbol of the holy medicine.

Around the fire this man made a half-moon out of earth, and all along the top of it he drew a groove with his finger. Thus he formed a road, the road of life. He said that anybody with the gift of *wacankiyapi*, which means having love and heart for the people, should sit right there. And from that day on, the man who is running a meeting was called the "roadman".

In this way the people made the first peyote altar, and after they had drunk the water, they thanked the peyote. Looking at the fire in the shape of the sacred water bird, they prayed to the four directions, and someone sprinkled green cedar on the fire.

The fragrant, sweet-smelling smoke was the breath of Grandfather Peyote, the spirit of all green and growing things. Now the people had everything they needed: the sacred herb, the drum, the gourd, the fire, the water, the cedar. From that moment on, they learned to know themselves. Their sick were cured, and they thanked the old woman and her grandchild for having brought this blessing to them. They were the Comanche nation, and from them the worship of the sacred herb spread to all the tribes throughout the land.

~ Told by Leonard Crow Dog at Winner,
Rosebud Indian Reservation, South Dakota, 1970
~ Via shirleytwofeathers

2008-05-20

Buffalo Child Comes Home

A story by shirleytwofeathers


Buffalo Child was born on the evening of the day of a great storm. A hard rain came down in sheets, bringing earthworms up out of the soil, and sending raccoons scurrying home to their dens. The ground all around the birth mother had turned to mud, and was so deep and thick that Buffalo Child had a very hard time standing up.

Her birth mother tried to nudge her to her feet, but Buffalo Child just rolled over. She rolled over so many times that thick mud stuck to her birth damp coat, and became very heavy. Finally, with great difficulty, Buffalo Child stood up. She looked around for her birth mother, but everything was the color of brown earth. Thick mud covered Buffalo Child’s eyes, and she did not recognize anything. She could not see which of the dark shapes in front of her was her mother.

Buffalo Child moved hesitantly toward the dark shapes, and as she did, her confidence grew. Surely her mother was the tallest, most magnificent of all the shapes she saw before her. On unstable legs, she ran forward, running right into the thick brown shape she thought was her mother. But it wasn’t her mother that she was running towards. It was an old cottonwood tree, and it hit her hard between the eyes. Buffalo Child cried out, thinking that her mother had struck her. The tears washed some of the mud and dirt out of her eyes, and she saw that her mother was not the tree.

The other Buffalo Mothers were dismayed. They saw the newborn Buffalo Child run into the old cottonwood tree, they saw that she was lost and stumbling, and so they moved into a protective circle around her. Her birth mother once again nudged Buffalo Child and this time, with awkward shaky steps, she found her mother. Buffalo Child suckled sweet milk, and she felt love, and it was good.

Buffalo Child was never able to see clearly, and the thick mud that had formed around her when she was born soon hardened. It was very heavy, and caused her to grow in an unbalanced way. Her mother was patient at first, but their bond was not as strong as it might have been, and it was very hard to be the mother of a child who was half blind and unable to walk in a straight path. Buffalo Child was always bumping into rocks and tripping over thick clumps of prairie grass, and blundering into thickets of thorn bushes. The other mothers soon lost interest in this strange child; they grew tired of looking for her when she was lost. They had their own children to worry about. They had their own concerns.

And so it was, that Buffalo Child often went hungry, she had no safe place to sleep at night, no kind words were spoken, and her life grew cold and lonely. She no longer felt love, and did not often taste the sweetness of mother’s milk.

The leader of the tribe, a great White Buffalo, watched Buffalo Child those first days of her life. His heart filled with compassion as he saw how the members of the tribe, and even her own birth mother, one by one fell away, until soon Buffalo Child had no one at her side, no one to show her where the sweet grass was, no one to lead her to the quiet watering holes, no one to pick her up and dust her off after a great fall. He saw that she was alone in the world and his heart opened to her. And he took it upon himself to be her father.

He named her Star Child, and licked her clean of mud and dust. He pulled burrs and thorns out of her thick coat, and soon it was clear that she was truly his daughter. Her robe, like his, was thick and white. The White Buffalo leader was kind to Star Child, and she called him Father. He waited patiently when she stumbled and fell; he stood guard over her as she slept; he taught her to find her way. In his care, she once again felt the sweetness of love, and it was good. But although she grew healthy and strong, and the dust and mud were gone, Star Child never regained her balance, and her eyesight was not clear.

One early morning, in the spring of the year, when a family of snow geese made a V in the sky, the Father took Star Child on a long walk. They crossed a small river, and stopped to enjoy the otters at play. Soon they came to a beautiful place, a place that was very close to the rising sun. Blades of sweet grass shone with gold on their edges. Somewhere a cougar made his presence known, and for a moment all was silent.

Star Child was very tired and sleepy after the long walk, so she lay down to rest in the tall golden grass. The White Buffalo Father stood quietly over her. He made a necklace of sweet grass and placed it around her neck. He wove a very small crystal into the fur on her forehead, and then he went away.

Star Child woke up to an eerie cry. She looked around for her Father, but he was gone. She looked toward the rising sun and saw a huge shape coming towards her in the sky, it looked swift and sure. She was very afraid, so she closed her eyes, and buried her head in the grass. She hoped that she would look like a large white rock. She hoped that whatever it was that was coming would fly on by.

But it didn’t.

The Great Mother of the Golden Eagles flew out of the rising sun toward Star Child. Her eyes were sharp and bright. She picked the Star Child up in her strong talons, and carried her to her nest high in the top of a tree that grew high on the top of a mountain right on the edge of the world. The nest was large and lined with golden down. Golden Eagle Mother set Star Child down in the nest. Her eyes were sharp and bright, but they were kind, and Star Child lost her fear.

The time that Star Child lived in the nest was a healing time. No one laughed at her, or made fun of her for falling down, or bumping into things. She didn’t get lost. It was easy to stay in the nest because the sides were tall and strong, made of sturdy sticks and branches. It was a secure place at the top of the world. And Star Child could look over the edge, and out into the world whenever she wanted.

Golden Eagle fed Star Child healing herbs. She brought fresh, mountain water. In the night, under the bright stars, Star Child nestled, contentedly under Golden Eagle’s strong wings, and listened to the rhythm of her strong heart. She thought of her as Mother. It was a safe and sacred time.

Soon, because of the healing herbs, and because of the love of the Golden Eagle Mother, Star Child began to see more clearly. She began to see more than just colors and shapes when she looked out into the world. She began to see green grass, and red hawks feasting on the mice that lived in the grass. She saw rivers, and ponds, and the lodges of beavers. She saw forests and trees, and the deer people who lived amongst the trees.

At first it was fun to be seeing so clearly. But after a time, Star Child began to miss the feeling of soft grass and the earth under her feet. She wanted to bury her nose in flowers just like the hummingbirds she saw from her high perch at the edge of the world. She wanted to walk with fireflies in the evening time, and listen to owls in the night.

She looked toward the northern plains, and she saw the White Father, and she saw his gentle eyes, and knew his love. She saw her Birth Mother, and how it was with her, and the other Buffalo Mothers, their children, and the great Buffalo Tribe, and her heart was filled with an aching sadness. But she knew that in this great high place she was loved, that the Golden Eagle Mother loved her deeply and fiercely, and she herself had great love for the Mother of Eagles. So Star Child decided to forget about her sadness, she made a gift out of her precious necklace of sweet grass and gave it to the Mother. She decided to try to be happy.

The Golden Eagle Mother was pleased with the gift, but she was not fooled. She was ancient and wise in the way of children. And she knew what was best for Star Child. So one day, when the sun stood tall in the center of the sky, she took Star Child out of the nest and flew with her down to a place where the grass was thick and lush, where fat gray rabbits lived in warrens under the ground; a place of rivers filled with salmon; and where families of wolves hunted and sang in the night.

She gently set Star Child down in the soft green grass. And she said, “I love you, and I will watch over you always. My light will shine on you, no matter where you go, no matter where you are.” And with that, she flew back to her nest by the place where the sun rises.

Star Child was alone. She was a little bit scared, and a little bit sad. Star Child was alone. She was a little bit scared, and a little bit sad, but she was also excited and happy to be in this new place. Rabbits peeked out of their holes, curious about this stranger whose white robe was now tipped with gold. They were very impressed.

As soon as Star Child saw their little rabbit faces peeking out of the ground, she scrambled quickly to her feet. She was eager to make new friends. But even though her vision was good, her balance was still very bad, she was still unable to walk a straight path, and the first thing she did was run into a large rock and fall down. The rabbits laughed and laughed. They rolled on the ground laughing. Star Child saw that their laughter was filled with joy and fun, and she started laughing too.

Coyote heard the laughter and immediately came to investigate. And what he saw filled him with amazement. In front of him was a buffalo calf, with gold tipped white fur, rolling on the ground, with rabbits, laughing. He watched quietly. Soon the laughter stopped, the rabbits went back to their rabbit business, and Star Child stood up. She was hungry and began to munch on the grass.

Coyote noticed that the buffalo calf walked in a strange sideways, stumbling fashion. She seemed to know where she was going, but she was unable to walk a straight path, and sometimes she fell down. He began to follow Star Child around. He did everything she did. When she crashed into a tree, he crashed into a tree. He became her shadow. It was great fun.

And Star Child was very comforted to find that she had a shadow companion. Soon they became friends. Star Child told Coyote her story, and Coyote showed Star Child the way of the world. They had many adventures. Star Child discovered that if she followed Coyote as like a shadow, that it was OK to fall down, and that sometimes it was a great and wonderful joke. Sometimes they both fell down on purpose just to have a good laugh.

From Coyote, Star Child learned how to get out of a tight spot, how to talk her self out of big trouble, how to enjoy the surprises of life, and that there is bitter and sweet in every experience. Coyote taught Star Child the language of flickers, how to get the Grandfather of the Fishes to guide you out of deep water and back to dry land, and how brown bears find honey. It was a powerful time, a time of companionship and trust. Star Child called Coyote brother, and they were friends.

One day, late in the summer, Coyote took Star Child on the road toward the place of the setting sun. Towards evening, they came to a cave. Star Child curled up in a comfortable corner of the cave and went to sleep. While she slept, Coyote kept watch. He built a small fire and burned some sage. He sang to the stars, and the stars sang back. Then Coyote left a bundle of sage next to his friend and left.

When Star Child woke up it was very dark and cold. The fire had gone out a long time before. She was alone and very afraid. She called out to Brother Coyote, but he did not reply. She called out to the Mother of the Eagles, and to the Father of the Buffalo, and still there was no reply. The cave was dark, and cold, and silent. She picked up the bundle of sage, and held it to her heart. It did not speak to her either.

She wandered around in the dark for a very long time. Sometimes she bumped into walls; sometimes she fell over rocks. Nothing was funny, and she got very lost. Finally, Star Child sat down and cried. She let the tears flow. She cried for her lost tribe, for the Father, Mother, and Brother who were lost to her. She cried for herself because she was lost, and alone, and afraid. After a while, she ran out of tears. She was tired and exhausted from the wandering, the falling, and the crying, so she did not know what to do.

Suddenly she heard a loud rumbling noise. It sounded like thunder. Star Child stood up, her legs were shaking so much that she almost fell down. But she clutched the bundle of sage that Coyote had left for her. There in the middle of the cave was a huge brown mound of fur. The fur was thick and dark and shot thru with the gray hairs of age. One eye opened, and then the other.

Grandmother Grizzly looked right into Star Child’s heart. She looked past the fear, she looked past the stumbling and the fumbling, and she saw a sweetness and a light. She saw the sweetness of tall prairie grass, the light of golden sunshine, and she saw a story, and a friendship, and fun.

Star Child looked back. She forgot that she was frightened. She saw a Grizzly Bear, and she also saw wisdom, depth of feeling, and a heart as big as the world. “Hello Grandmother,” she said.

“Hello Little One.”

Star Child gave Grandmother the bundle of sage that she had in her hand. The gift was accepted with a smile. Grandmother invited Star Child to sit down. Star Child was very tired after wandering around for so long in the dark, and from the falling, and the crying, and soon she was curled up next to Grandmother Grizzly. There, in that safe warm place, Star Child fell very deeply asleep. She dreamed many dreams. Star Child dreamed of things she had never seen, of the great Whale Tribe that lives deep in the ocean. She saw visions, and she explored the dark time realm. Sometimes she would wake up, and wander through the cave. She talked to the shy mice that nested in hidden places, and to the ants that occasionally visited. If she found water or food, she shared it with them and with Grandmother.

Always when she slept she had dreams, and when the dreams frightened her, she moved closer to Grandmother for comfort, solace, and strength. It was a dark and quiet time. The depth of love was great.

And then, one day, Grandmother woke up. She thanked Star Child for spending time with her, for bringing her food and water through the long sleep. “Now you must go home,“ she said. “I will go with you in your dreams. I will be with you as you sleep, and beside you when you wander in the dark.”

Grandmother Grizzly stretched and growled. She stood up tall and strong, and she pushed hard on the side of the cave. The rock wall gave way with a shout and a roar. Sunlight streamed in.

For a time, Star Child was blinded and disoriented. She walked out into the world, and her vision cleared. It was the fall season; the air was crisp. Ravens spoke to her from the trees, and a snake slipped under the dry leaves into his safe hole in the ground. She looked back to say goodbye to Grandmother, but the cave was gone. She looked around, in the distance Star Child saw a herd of Elk, and beyond the snow covered hills, she saw sweet grass, and yes… Buffalo grazing.

Star Child made her way toward the Tribe. She noticed as she went, that she was able to walk a straight and narrow path, that she was not running into trees, or stumbling into bushes, or getting lost in thickets of brambles and weeds. Quietly and surely, she made her way toward the place where the Buffalo stood grazing, toward her birth mother, her birth brothers and sisters.

In the distance she heard Coyote laughing, so she stopped and waited for him to catch up. As she waited, she looked toward the east and saw the Great Mother of Eagles, and the Sun to touched her face. She heard dolphins singing. She walked toward the north, toward the White Buffalo Father, who smiled to see her again.

And so Star Child came home. But no one recognized her. Her robe had turned to a deep rich brown during her time in the cave; her eyes were clear and gold in color; there was a white star on her forehead; and the scent of sage followed her like a shadow. They called her Buffalo Woman. She lived quietly among her people. Sometimes she told stories, sometimes she fell down just for fun, and always she took care of the children.