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Tuesday, 26 August 2014

WHY THE ICE ROOF FELL

Good afternoon my dearest friends and followers. For today's post I thought I would bring you again to the world of stories the Iroquois told to their children.
Here's another Wonder Story from the Iroquois that explains a basic tenet of life for all Indians. You'll recognize what it is in the opening paragraphs of this story.


WHY THE ICE ROOF FELL


A great many winters ago, there lived at the foot of a certain lake a tribe of wicked Indians. These Indians were so fierce, and warlike, and wasteful, they went about destroying everything.

They laid low a tract of beautiful forest trees, for no good purpose. They tore up the shrubs and plants that gave them food and medicine. They shot their arrows into every bird or animal they saw, just for sport.

The great trees – their silent brothers of the wood – trembled and sighed when they heard these Indians coming. The squirrels darted into hollow trees, and rabbits flew in alarm at their footsteps. The deer and rabbit ran from the trail.

At last the Great Spirit became very angry with this tribe. Always he had taught the Indians never to kill an animal, unless for food or protection; never to fell a tree, unless for fuel or shelter; never to dig up shrubs or plants, unless for some good use.


“All life,” the Great Spirit had said, “is sacred and beautiful. It must not be wasted.”

And never before had he known Indians to waste the beautiful living things around them. The Great Spirit was very sad.

The ice formed very thick on the lake that winter.

One night there came a great storm of wind and rain. The ice broke loose from the shores, and the wind blew it down the lake. At the foot of the lake, a mass of ice was piled high over the shore, where lived these wasteful Indians.

Like a giant roof, the ice spread over the little Indian village lying there asleep, but the Indians did not know. They slept on, unaware of their danger, for a deep, heavy sleep had come upon them.
Just as the sun rose, the ice roof gave way and fell upon the sleeping Indians, crushing them in their wigwams.

The waste they had brought upon their brothers of the wood had brought punishment upon them. The Great Spirit had destroyed these wicked Indians, that the good Indians might keep his world beautiful.

Ever after, as long as the Indians occupied the country, before the White man came, no trees were felled, and no animals or birds were killed, unless for some wise and useful purpose.

I hope that you have all Enjoyed reading this post for my dearest friends and followers. I wish you all a beautiful day
and a great week my dear friends. 

ڰۣ In Loving Light from the Fairy Ladyڰۣ


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