THE ANTELOPE BOY

Hi dear friends and followers today we visit the Pueblo people

When I traveled in the southwestern states a few years ago, I visited one of the oldest continuously inhabited places in the United States, Taos Pueblo. It is a UNESCO World Heritage Site. To the best of my understanding it has had residents for at least 1,000 years and boasts the oldest multi-storied buildings that I know of in America.

The legend that is presented here is as faithful a retelling as numerous generations of Pueblo People will allow. As with all of the other legends shared here, it is a tall story, complete with heroes, villains, and magic.
THE ANTELOPE BOY

ONCE upon a time there were two towns of the Tée-wahn, called Nah-bah-tóo-too-ee (white village) and Nah-choo-rée-too-ee (yellow village). A man of Nah-bah-tóo-too-ee and his wife were attacked by Apaches while out on the plains one day, and took refuge in a cave, where they were besieged. And there a boy was born to them. 

The father was killed in an attempt to return to his village for help; and starvation finally forced the mother to crawl forth by night seeking roots to eat. Chased by the Apaches, she escaped to her own village, and it was several days before she could return to the cave-only to find it empty.

The baby had begun to cry soon after her departure. Just then a Coyote was passing, and heard. Taking pity on the child, he picked it up and carried it across the plain until he came to a herd of antelopes. Among them was a Mother-Antelope that had lost her fawn; and going to her the Coyote said:

"Here is an ah-bóo (poor thing) that is left by its people. Will you take care of it?
The Mother-Antelope, remembering her own baby, with tears said "Yes," and at once adopted the tiny stranger, while the Coyote thanked her and went home.

So the boy became as one of the antelopes, and grew up among them until he was about twelve years old. Then it happened that a hunter came out from Nah-bah-tóo-too-ee for antelopes, and found this herd. Stalking them carefully, he shot one with an arrow. The rest started off, running like the wind; but ahead of them all, as long as they were in sight, he saw a boy! The hunter was much surprised, and, shouldering his game, walked back to the village, deep in thought. Here he told the Cacique (Medicine Man) what he had seen.

Next day the crier was sent out to call upon all the people to prepare for a great hunt, in four days, to capture the Indian boy who lived with the antelopes.

While preparations were going on in the village, the antelopes in some way heard of the intended hunt and its purpose. The Mother-Antelope was very sad when she heard it, and at first would say nothing, But at last she called her adopted son to her and said: "Son, you have heard that the people of Nah-bah-tóo-too-ee are coming to hunt. But they will not kill us; all they wish is to take you. They will surround us, intending to let all the antelopes escape from the circle. You must follow me where I break through the line, and your real mother will be coming on the northeast side in a white manta (robe). I will pass close to her, and you must stagger and fall where she can catch you."

On the fourth day all the people went out upon the plains. They found and surrounded the herd of antelopes, which ran about in a circle when the hunters closed upon them. The circle grew smaller, and the antelopes began to break through; but the hunters paid no attention to them, keeping their eyes upon the boy. At last he and his antelope mother were the only ones left, and when she broke through the line on the northeast he followed her and fell at the feet of his own human mother, who sprang forward and clasped him in her arms.

Amid great rejoicing he was taken to Nah-bah-tóo-too-ee, and there he told the principales (elders who govern the village) how he had been left in the cave, how the Coyote had pitied him, and how the Mother-Antelope had reared him as her own son.

It was not long before all the country round about heard of the Antelope Boy and of his marvelous fleetness of foot. You must know that the antelopes never comb their hair, and while among them the boy's head had grown very bushy. So the people called him Pée-hleh-o-wah-wée-deh (big-headed little boy).

Among the other villages that heard of his prowess was Nah-choo-rée-too-ee , all of whose people "had the bad road," that is to say, were witches. They had a wonderful runner named Pée-k'hoo (Deer-foot), and very soon they sent a challenge to Nah-bah-tóo-too-ee for a championship race. Four days were to be given for preparation, to make bets, and the like.

The race was to be around the world. The Pueblos believed it was an immense plain whereon the racers were to race over a square course--to the extreme east, then to the extreme north, and so on, back to the starting-point.

Each village was to stake all its property and the lives of all its people on the result of the race. So powerful were the witches of Nah-choo-rée-too-ee that they felt safe in proposing so serious a stake; and the people of Nah-bah-tóo-too-ee were ashamed to decline the challenge.

The day came, and the starting-point was surrounded by all the people of the two villages, dressed in their best. On each side were huge piles of ornaments and dresses, stores of grain, and all the other property of the people. The runner for the yellow village was a tall, sinewy athlete, strong in his early manhood; and when the Antelope Boy appeared for the other side, the witches set up a howl of derision, and began to strike their rivals and jeer at them, saying, "Poch! We might as well begin to kill you now! What can that óo-deh (little thing) do?"

At the word "Hái-ko!" ("Go!") the two runners started toward the east like the wind. The Antelope Boy soon forged ahead; but Deer-foot, by his witchcraft, changed himself into a hawk and flew lightly over the lad, saying, "We do this way to each other!" (This is the customary taunt between participants in a contest and can be good-natured or bitter.) The Antelope Boy kept running, but his heart was very heavy, for he knew that no feet could equal the swift flight of the hawk.

But just as he came half-way to the east, a Mole came up from its burrow and said: "My son, where are you going so fast with a sad face?" The lad explained that the race was for the property and lives of all his people; and that the witch-runner had turned to a hawk and left him far behind.

"Then, my son," said the Mole, "I will be he that shall help you. Only sit down here a little while, and I will give you something to carry."
The boy sat down, and the Mole dived into the hole, but soon came back with four cigarettes. These were made by putting a certain weed called pee-én-hleh into hollow reeds.

Holding them out, the Mole said, "Now, my son, when you have reached the east and turned north, smoke one; when you have reached the north and turn west, smoke another; when you turn south, another, and when you turn east again, another. Hái-ko!"

The boy ran on, and soon reached the east. Turning his face to the north he smoked the first cigarette. No sooner was it finished than he became a young antelope; and at the same instant a furious rain began. Refreshed by the cool drops, he started like an arrow from the bow. Half-way to the north he came to a large tree; and there sat the hawk, drenched and chilled, unable to fly, and crying piteously.

The cigarette plays an important part in the Pueblo folk-stories,--they never had the pipe of the Northern Indians,--and all rain-clouds are supposed to come from its smoke.

"Now, friend, we too do this to each other," called the boy-antelope as he dashed past. But just as he reached the north, the hawk--which had become dry after the short rain--caught up and passed him, saying, "We too do this to each other!" The boy-antelope turned westward, and smoked the second cigarette; and at once another terrific rain began. 

Half-way to the west he again passed the hawk shivering and crying in a tree, and unable to fly; but as he was about to turn to the south, the hawk passed him with the customary taunt. The smoking of the third cigarette brought another storm, and again the antelope passed the wet hawk half-way, and again the hawk dried its feathers in time to catch up and pass him as he was turning to the east for the home-stretch. Here again the boy-antelope stopped and smoked a cigarette--the fourth and last. Again a short, hard rain came, and again he passed the water-bound hawk half-way.

Knowing the witchcraft of their neighbors, the people of Nah-bah-tóo-too-ee had made the condition that, in whatever shape the racers might run the rest of the course, they must resume human form upon arrival at a certain hill upon the fourth turn, which was in sight of the goal. The last wetting of the hawk's feathers delayed it so that the antelope reached the hill just ahead; and there, resuming their natural shapes, the two runners came sweeping down the home-stretch, straining every nerve.

But the Antelope Boy gained at each stride. When they saw him, the witch-people felt confident that he was their champion, and again began to push, and taunt, and jeer at the others. But when the little Antelope Boy sprang lightly across the line, far ahead of Deer-foot, their joy turned to mourning.

The people of Nah-bah-tóo-too-ee burned all the witches upon the spot, in a great pile of corn; but somehow one escaped, and from him come all the witches that trouble us to this day.

The property of the witches was taken to Nah-bah-tóo-too-ee; and as it was more than that village could hold, the surplus was sent to Shee-eh-whíb-bak (Isleta), where we enjoy it to this day; and later the people themselves moved here. And even now, when we dig in that little hill on the other side of the charco (pool), we find charred corn-cobs, where our forefathers burned the witch-people of the yellow village.

Thank you very much again, dear friends, for visiting my blog. Please share your thoughts with us, if you will. have a great Week.

✿ ڰۣ❤In Loving Light from the Fairy Lady❤ڰۣ✿

Keeping It Real by Frizzy Lizzy

Hi dear friends and followers, here we are again Saturday, would you join me at Frizzy Lizzy's?

Keeping It Real by Frizzy Lizzy

So you ask me what is the craziest thing that second ex, Frank, ever did? Well, Sarah, that's not an easy question to answer. I suppose that it really depends upon what you call "crazy."

There's the time that he took on the hornets in the yard shed and won. And there's the day that he tried to fix the leak in the roof of our first camper, or maybe the time that he decided to cook steaks over the coals on New Year's Eve. Or maybe when our neighbor gave him the little green peppers to eat - there are many to choose from!

Since we just had New Year's maybe I should reminisce a bit about what we did after the crowd left our home following Christmas dinner.

Now Frank was not always a pain-in-the-ass. For several years he was a pretty good man to live with, and if he wanted to try to recapture the spirit of Christmas past, as it was for him when he was an only child, and do it for his sons and their children, so be it. I'll try anything at least once if there's a good person involved.

So we had a real blowout of a Christmas, complete with more gifts, decorations, food, and people than I have ever seen in my life! We socialized all Christmas Eve while playing cards, drinking, and doing some of the preparations for the dinner. We seldom got 2 hours' sleep before Frank would wake the kids, make the coffee and get all of us adults to drag our butts to the Christmas tree to open gifts.

In short, we were pretty tired by the time Christmas night came around.

It became our custom to go to this campground where Frank and his mom had a camp trailer on a nicely kept campsite for New Year's and a few days beyond. We had the place to ourselves and it was so restful! We slept, woke, and ate on whatever schedule we desired, and since we were not driving anywhere we took a drink or two; or three; or more.

This one New Year's Eve it was rather mild weather with no snow on the ground. Frank and I went into town to buy groceries and he got it into his head that he wanted to make steak and shrimp for supper. It sounded good to me, so I went along with the idea.

We got home and drew water for cooking the shrimp from the freeze-proof faucet outside the trailer and steamed them. They smelled delicious! But the steaks were a different story.

Frank had forgotten to look for charcoal when we were out and by the time he was ready to cook the store had closed.

Now many other men would have settled for taking two New York strip steaks and putting them in a frying pan but not Frank. He had a better idea.

He went out to the fireplace that we had built in the yard in front of the trailer and cleared all of the leaves and debris out of it. Then he came in and had a shot of Canadian Club and a beer. On an empty stomach.

He went out to the shed and found some newspapers and made wads out of them and put the wads in the fireplace. So far, so good. Now to fine some dry kindling wood and bigger wood for a fire. That came after another shot and another beer.

So he went back out and began to search for kindling and wood. A half-hour later he came back and tried to light a fire. The wood was damp and the results were so pitiful! I felt badly for the poor man.

Then he went into the shed and brought our more newspaper. He folded it in two and used it to fan the fire. Sure enough, the smoke dissipated and a flame began to dance in the fireplace, but as soon as he stopped it was back to smoldering again.

And that is when he went back into the shed and came back out with an extension cord. He plugged it in to the outlet on the side of the trailer. I had no idea in hell of what he was doing but he did. He returned to the shed and came back out with a large electric fan that he plugged into the end of the extension.

He took the fan out to the fireplace, turned it on, and aimed it where the smoldering was going on. In a few seconds there was flame again!

Frank left the fan to blow on the damp wood like mechanical bellows! He watched it from inside of the trailer while we both toasted his ingenuity. Then he took the steaks and threaded them onto the long forks that we use for roasting weiners and walked back out to the fire. He returned about 10 minutes later with two nice steaks, done rare!

Now to the untrained mind the notion of steaks cooked over an open fire in the middle of winter might seem like sheer craziness, but not to Frank.

After supper we tried sitting outside by the fireplace. We did that just long enough to feel our front parts staying nice and warm but our backs freezing. He figured out how to cook steaks and give us a nice fire but keeping our asses toasty, well, you can't have everything, can you, Sarah?

How about more coffee and another dip of ice cream with your black forest cake?

Thank you very much again, dear friends, for visiting my blog. Please share your thoughts with us, if you will. have a great Weekend.

✿ ڰۣ❤In Loving Light from the Fairy Lady❤ڰۣ✿

The Buffalo Hunting Porcupine

Hi dear friends and followers. Today we visit the Native Amercan people named Utes

The Native People known as the Utes lived in central and western Colorado for centuries before their contact with the white man. They were a nomadic people who, at first, lived in bark covered dwellings called wikiups, and followed the buffalo herds. A wikiup was rather hard to move so the Ute eventually adopted the teepee as a temporary shelter while on the hunt.

Many Native American legends feature animals animals who embody a certain spirit or are known for a particular skill or "virtue" as the central characters; whether it's part of a creation myth, or legends and fables, they manage to hold our attention, and teach us in the process.

One story tells of a time when animals ruled the earth, and a buffalo tracking porcupine.

The Buffalo Hunting Porcupine

The porcupine had been following the buffalo by their manure chips, asking each and every one in which direction the buffalo were headed. One answered it was "fresh", and the porcupine followed its directions to a river which the buffalo had just crossed.

The porcupine called out for a buffalo to carry him across the river, but as each one replied, "Do you mean me?", he said, "No, I want a different buffalo," and moved on to the next one until he finally found the strongest buffalo in the herd who said, "I shall carry you across the river!," and proceeded to cross the river to fetch the porcupine.

The porcupine, unsure for his safety, was apprehensive about getting on the buffalo's back. Every suggestion offered by the buffalo was declined by the frightened porcupine until the buffalo asked him if he would rather cross the river inside him. The porcupine agreed, and was swallowed by the buffalo.

As they crossed the river, the anxious porcupine asked the buffalo if they had arrived. The buffalo answered, "No, not yet." Then a little while later, he asked again and the buffalo replied, "We have just come out of the water, it is safe for you to leave my insides." But the porcupine replied: "Not yet, wait a little longer."

A while later, the buffalo grew tired of carrying the porcupine inside him, and ordered it to come out. The porcupine came out, but his heavy tail, full of quills punctured the buffalo's heart on the way, causing it to charge and die suddenly. This angered the other buffalo, who tried to kill the porcupine, but he stayed beneath the buffalo's ribs, safe from their horned attacks.

After the buffalo got tired and abandoned their efforts, the porcupine emerged, and looking at the buffalo carcass said, "I wish I had something with which to butcher this buffalo."

A coyote who happened to be sleeping nearby heard the porcupine, and quickly got to its feet, and rushed to help the porcupine. He said, "Here is my knife for butchering", and joined the porcupine at the dead buffalo's side.

The coyote issued a challenge: "Let he who can leap over the beast butcher it." The porcupine got a good start, ran, and jumped, but he fell short of the mark. Of course, the coyote achieved the jump in a single bound, not even grazing the dead buffalo, so he got to carve up the beast.

After a while, he removed the paunch, and gave it to the porcupine for him to go and clean in the river, asking him to wait before eating any of it. The porcupine, hungry from all the excitement, tore off a little piece and ate it, but not so little a piece, and not eaten fast enough that the coyote didn't see, and the latter howled with anger at the disobedient porcupine whom he chased and killed with a club, then stuffed inside the buffalo's carcass.

When he later joined his family, the coyote told them he had killed both the porcupine and the buffalo, and he asked them to help carry them home.

Before being removed from inside the buffalo, the spirit of the porcupine said the magic words, "Let a red pine tree grow here - fast." The tree sprang upwards from beneath the meat and the porcupine, carrying them to the heavens, with the porcupine miraculously coming back to life.

When the coyote and his family returned to get the meat, they were surprised to find it had gone missing, and he asked his family to search the area, hoping to pick up a scent.

Porcupine, sitting atop the tall red pine, wished the coyotes would look up and see him there. Then it happened: the smallest coyote looked up and saw the porcupine, sitting up at the top of the branches on a small hill of meat.

Coyote asked the porcupine to throw them a piece, for they were starving, but the porcupine had one request: "Place the smallest of your children a little farther away." The coyotes did as they were asked, placing their youngest off to the side. "Now make a circle and hold your hands upward to the heavens," so they did, and porcupine began throwing down the huge chunks of meat which ended up knocking the coyote and his family dead, with the exception of the little one.

When he came back down, Porcupine took care the little coyote, fed him some meat and then went home with as much as he could carry. Later on, the porcupine and the coyote, who had since become close friends, ended up helping each other in 

the hunt for buffalo.

Thank you very much again, dear friends, for visiting my blog. Please share your thoughts with us, if you will. have a great Week.

✿ ڰۣ❤In Loving Light from the Fairy Lady❤ڰۣ✿

HOW THE BUFFALO HUNT BEGAN

Hi dear friends and followers

Tonight we will stay in Wyoming to look at the companion piece to last night's legend, the Origin of the Buffalo. As always, this tale explains a lot in a short time. I hope that find it interesting because our next stop is Colorado and I have no idea what we will find there. Have a great Wednesday!

HOW THE BUFFALO HUNT BEGAN

The buffalo formerly ate man. The magpie and the hawk were on the side of the people, for neither ate the other or the people. These two birds flew away from a council between animals and men. They determined that a race would be held, the winners to eat the losers.

The course was long, around a mountain. The swiftest buffalo was a cow called Neika, "swift head." She believed she would win and entered the race. On the other hand, the people were afraid because of the long distance. They were trying to get medicine to prevent fatigue.

All the birds and animals painted themselves for the race, and since that time they have all been brightly coloured. Even the water turtle put red paint around his eyes. The magpie painted himself white on head, shoulders, and tail. At last all were ready for the race, and stood in a row for the start.

They ran and ran, making some loud noises in place of singing to help themselves to run faster. All small birds, turtles, rabbits, coyotes, wolves, flies, ants, insects, and snakes were soon left far behind. When they approached the mountain the buffalo-cow was ahead; then came the magpie, hawk, and the people; the rest were strung out along the way. The dust rose so quickly that nothing could be seen.

All around the mountain the buffalo-cow led the race, but the two birds knew they could win, and merely kept up with her until they neared the finish line, which was back to the starting place. Then both birds whooshed by her and won the race for man. As they flew the course, they had seen fallen animals and birds all over the place, who had run themselves to death, turning the ground and rocks red from the blood.

The buffalo then told their young to hide from the people, who were going out to hunt them; and also told them to take some human flesh with them for the last time. The young buffaloes did this, and stuck that meat in front of their chests, beneath the throat. Therefore, the people do not eat that part of the buffalo, saying it is part human flesh.

From that day forward the Cheyennes began to hunt buffalo. Since all the friendly animals and birds were on the people's side, they are not eaten by people, but they do wear and use their beautiful feathers for ornaments.

Thank you very much again, dear friends, for visiting my blog. Please share your thoughts with us, if you will. have a great Week.

✿ ڰۣ❤In Loving Light from the Fairy Lady❤ڰۣ✿

ORIGIN OF THE BUFFALO

Hi dear friends and followers. Today we follow the legends of the  Cheyenne.

I have traveled through Wyoming and while it was not particularly remarkable to me, it was home to more than one Native American People, among them the Cheyenne, a people who followed the migration of the buffalo herds.

But it wasn't always that way. At some point eons ago, the Cheyenne did not even know what a buffalo looked like, and they were starving. This legend tells how that was remedied.

ORIGIN OF THE BUFFALO

Long ago, a tribe of Cheyenne hunters lived at the head of a rushing stream, which eventually emptied into a large cave.

Because of the great need for a new food supply for his people, the Chief called a council meeting.

"We should explore the large cave," he told his people. "How many brave hunters will offer to go on this venture? Of course, it may be very dangerous, but we have brave hunters." No one responded to the Chief's request.

Finally, one young brave painted himself for hunting and stepped forth, replying to the Chief, "I will go and sacrifice myself for our people." He arrived at the cave, and to his surprise, First Brave found two other Cheyenne hunters near the opening, where the stream rushed underground.

"Are they here to taunt me," First Brave wondered? "Will they only pretend to jump when I do?"

But the other two braves assured him they would go.

"No, you are mistaken about us. We really do want to enter the cave with you," they said.

First Brave then joined hands with them and together they jumped into the huge opening of the cave. Because of the darkness, it took some time for their eyes to adjust. They then discovered what looked like a door. First Brave knocked, but there was no response. He knocked again, louder.

"What do you want, my brave ones?" asked an old Indian grandmother as she opened her door.

"Grandmother, we are searching for a new food supply for our tribe," First Brave replied. "Our people never seem to have enough food to eat."

"Are you hungry now?" she asked.

"Oh, yes, kind Grandmother, we are very hungry," all three braves answered.

The old grandmother opened her door wide, inviting the young braves to enter.

"Look out there!" she pointed for them to look through her window.

A beautiful wide prairie stretched before their eyes. Great herds of buffalo were grazing contentedly. The young hunters could hardly believe what they saw!

The old grandmother brought each of them a stone pan full of buffalo meat. How good it tasted, as they ate and ate until they were filled. To their surprise, more buffalo meat remained in their stone pans!

"I want you to take your stone pans of buffalo meat back to your people at your camp," said the old grandmother. "Tell them that soon I will send some live buffalo."

"Thank you, thank you, thank you, kind Grandmother," said the three young Cheyenne braves.

When the young hunters returned to their tribe with the gifts of buffalo meat, their people rejoiced over the new, good food. Their entire tribe ate heartily from the old grandmother's three magic pans, and were grateful.

When the Cheyenne woke at dawn the next day, herds of buffalo had mysteriously appeared, surrounding their village! They were truly thankful to the old Indian grandmother and to the Sky Spirits for their good fortune.

Thank you very much again, dear friends, for visiting my blog. Please share your thoughts with us, if you will. have a great Week.

✿ ڰۣ❤In Loving Light from the Fairy Lady❤ڰۣ✿