Early Native American Education

Lyn Dearborn (lyn@anchor.engr.sgi.com)
Wed, 7 Sep 1994 14:33:52 -0700


Found a great new "educational" coloring book while we were traveling up
the north coast of California last week. We stopped to check out the
"new" old Yurok village at Patricks Point State Park called "Sumeg",
and of course, I have to check out the Visitors Center for
educational purposes. One of the best things about it is that the
front cover has a flap that encloses the open edge of the book, and
has a velcro closure, which keeps the book from getting ragged
looking.

Anyway, this book is from Running Press, with someone named Borgenicht
listed as the author. It is one in a series of what Running Press calls
their "Start Exploring" Series. Each book is $8.95 at local bookstores,
or you can send for them if you include $2.50 postage and handling (or
get together with friends & order wholesale. The other titles include:
"Architecture", "Bulfinch's Mythology", "Masterpieces", "Oceans",
"Space", "Forests", Gray's Anatomy", "Insects" and "Masterpieces of
American Art".

This book is called "Folktales of Native Americans"; A Story-Filled
Coloring Book Includes a ready-to-color poster (a pullout). The stories
are great, and the accompanying drawings are well done, by someone named
Helen Driggs.

Running Press Publishers
125 So. Twenty-second Street
Philadelphia, PA 19103-4399

Canadian reps:
General Publishing Co., Ltd
30 Lesmill Rd.
Don Mills, Ontario M3B 2T6

ISBN # 1-56138-303-1 1993

The poster is a Pacific Northwest scene of a potlatch. Nice drawing.

I've typed in two Chippewa stories and one Tete de Boule story. Do any
of you know who these people are? I've looked in all of my "locatable"
inter-tribal books and have found nothing. There was a very simplified
comment about them in the glossary saying they "lived" around Quebec,
but no other info, so I can't help but wonder if they are also known by
another name. Tribes represented include: Tsimshian Story, Crow (2),
Cochiti, Seneca (2), Dakota, Tete de Boule, Papago, Chippewa (2),
Assiniboine, Cherokee, Brule Sioux, another "unidentified" Sioux,
Menomini, and 2 Tewa stories.

Hmm just noticed an "explanation" of tribal groups which includes
a simplistic definition of the Chippewa: "A group of Indians who lived
in what is now Michigan, around Lake Superior. They also are known as
the Ojibwa. Gosh, golly, gee ..... where did we move to? Anyway for
Tete de Boule it says "A group of Indians who were members of the
Algonquin people. They were located in Canada, in the area of Quebec".
We aren't ALL in the past-tense; the southwest is mostly intact, as is
the Seneca, Sioux, Tewa, Tsimshian, Dakota, Cochiti, Cherokee, Brule
Sioux, Assiniboine. But the Menomini, Papago, Chippewas, and Tete
de Boule "lived" in this or that place .... think I should drop the
publisher a note ... pls feel free to do the same.

Here and there the publishers have also included little "bits of
knowledge" put into boxes/squares at the bottom of a page, as
"filler" Such is the purpose of this "bit" on peace pipes. You'll
note that there is no mention that use by those who aren't
"qualified" can cause sickness, rotten luck, and even death... they
merely imply that you need to be PHYSICALLY careful in holding it, not
that you need to not touch it, period, unless you are participating in a
ceremony by a qualified "Pipe carrier" or even a Midewiwin medicine
person... There is a definite mistaken belief that the "power" is in
the pipe, and not the Carrier.

THE PEACE PIPE

For most Native Americans, "peace pipes" were smoked as offerings of
goodwill to guests and friends, as offerings to the spirits, and as
cures for diseases. In some ceremonies, the smoker blew in all four
directions for health and good luck.

The way a pipe was held was important. Holding it incorrectly
was bad luck, and dropping it could even mean death.

Here are those stories:

THE SEASONS
A Chippewa Story

In a lodge by the edge of a frozen stream, an old man sat alone.
Winter was ending, and his fire was nearly out.

The man looked as ancient as the mountains, and he was very pale.
His hair was white with age, and his bones shook when he moved. He
met each day with loneliness--he never had visitors, and the only
sound he ever heard was the sweep of the wind, bringing with it new
snow.

One day, just as his fire was about to die, a strong young man came
to his lodge. The young man's face was red with youth, and his eyes
twinkled with life. His lips formed a warm smile. His walk was
gentle and light, and on his head he wore a wreath of grass in place
of a warrior's band. In his hands he carried no bow and arrow, but
instead a bunch of flowers.

The old man spoke first. "My son," he said, "I am glad to see you.
Come in. Come tell me of your adventures and journeys. Let us talk
the night away. I will tell you of my experience, and of what I can
do. You will tell me the same, and we will entertain each other."

As the young man entered, the old man brought out of his sack an old
pipe, and filled it with tobacco. He handed it to his young guest,
and together they smoked. When the ceremony was over, they took
turns speaking of their powers.

"I breathe," began the old man, "and the waters still. Streams and
lakes become stiff and hard, like clear stones."

"I blow my breath," said the young man, "and flowers appear all over
the land."

The old man was challenged, so he spoke again. "I shake my hair,"
he said, "and snow covers the land. Leaves fall. Flowers hide, or my
breath blows them all away. Birds fly to far away lands. Animals
run to caves and holes. The ground itself becomes as hard as flint."

"I shake my locks," the young man said confidently, "and warm
showers fall upon the land. Plants lift their heads up out of the
ground, and birds come to my voice. The warmth in my breath unlocks
the waters, and music plays where I walk. Nature celebrates."

They spoke all night. At length, the sun began to rise. The lodge
and its surrounding land began to warm.

The old man's tongue stopped. He heard a robin and a bluebird
singing sweetly atop the lodge. By the door, the stream began to
trickle. The softly moving wind brought with it not snow, but the
sweet smell of flowers and herbs.

As the sun rose, the young man realized that his host was Winter
itself--and as the world around him warmed, the old man's eyes began
to stream tears. His time was ending.

The sun heated the land, and the old man began to shrink. Soon he
had melted completely away. All that remained in his spot was a tiny
white flower--the first flower of the spring.

The young man breathes deeply, and listened to the world awaken.

WHY WE SLEEP
A Chippewa Story

Sleep is mysterious. No one knows why we have to sleep, or what
makes us feel tired. But the Chippewa people have an explanation.

They say that there is a spirit called Weeng, who commands hundreds
and hundreds of tiny, invisible creatures. These tiny people are
everywhere, especially around trees and lodges, and they are always
awake and ready for action.

Each of these beings is armed with a club. When one of these
creatures sees a person relaxing, or lying down, he carefully climbs
up on his forehead, and hits the person with the club.

The blow does not hurt, but it does make a person feel sleepy. A
second blow makes a person move slowly, and sometimes causes him to
close his eyes. A third blow causes a deep sleep.

This is the job of these creatures--to put everyone they meet to
sleep. They sometimes hid in hunters' pouches, and when the hunter
sits to smoke a pipe, or to eat, the creatures come out and put him
to sleep. This helps to protect animals from the hunter.

Mostly, these creatures are friendly. They put people to sleep to
give them more energy when they awaken. But sometimes, like all
creatures, they make mistakes or play pranks, and sometimes these
pranks are dangerous. For example, these creatures have been known
to hit people as they float in canoes.

Weeng himself is less understood. But once, a great hunter named
Iagoo is said to have come close to meeting Weeng.

One day, Iagoo went out with his dogs to hunt. Along the way, he
passed through a thick brush, and when he came out, his dogs were
nowhere to be found.

Iagoo was alarmed and confused -- his dogs were faithful animals,
and he was very attached to them. He called to them at the top of his
lungs, and searched the thicket for hours.

Finally, he came to a spot deep within the brush, and saw the dogs
sleeping soundly. He tried to arouse his dogs.

But Iagoo himself was getting sleepy. He decided to lie down for a
quick nap. It is said that as Iagoo was drifting off to sleep he saw
a spirit perched in the branches of a tree above him. This spirit
was shaped like a giant butterfly, and made a low, soothing murmur,
like the sound of a distant stream. Then the creature disappeared,
and all went dark.

It is not known if this was truly where Weeng dwelled -- Iagoo was
known to make up stories from time to time, as all great warriors do.

This is all we know of sleep.

THE SUN TRAP
A Tete de Boule Story

Long ago lived a boy named Tcikabis who liked to climb trees. He
could climb better than anyone else. But Tcikabis also had a
special power -- he could climb to the top of a tall tree, and then,
by blowing on it with all his might, he could make the tree grow
higher. He could then climb to the new top, and repeat the process.
This way, Tcikabis could climb higher than anyone.

One day, he climbed higher than he had ever gone before. He climbed
so high that he saw a straight, wide path across the top of the sky.

"Who can be that travels upon such a wide path?" he thought to
himself. "I must find out. I will stretch myself across the path
and go to sleep. When someone comes by, I will awaken and see
him." The high climb had tired him out, and he quickly fell
asleep.

Soon he was awakened by footsteps on the road. "Now I will find
out who travels here," Tcikabis thought. He looked up, and saw
only a bright light. He covered his eyes, and realized that the sun
itself was approaching!

"Out of my way," ordered the sun.

"Go around me," Tcikabis yawned, not moving.

"I cannot leave my path!" the sun said, becoming hot with anger.
"If you do not get out of my way, I will burn you!"

But Tcikabis was not frightened. He laughed, and said, "Jump over
me."

The sun stepped over him, but as he did, Tcikabis nearly died of the
heat. His clothes were all burned, and he was badly scorched.
Tcikabis was angry, and he returned to the earth to plan his revenge.

Back on the ground, Tcikabis plotted. He made a large net, and his
sister asked him what it was for.

"I am going to get even with the sun," Tcikabis said. he was so
angry he could not think clearly. He did not remember that he had
blocked the sun's path. His sister tried to warn him against the
trick, but he would not listen.

With his net on his back, Tcikabis climbed back up the tree to the
path, and set the trap. Soon, the sun approached on his daily
journey, and became caught in the net. Darkness covered the world.

Tcikabis was happy that his trap had worked, and the darkness
continued for some time.

But people were becoming angry. Without light, they couldn't get
anything done. Plants could not grow. And no one could see the
world's beauty.

Tcikabis realized that it would always be dark unless he freed the
sun. But how could he free the sun without burning himself? He knew
too well how much damage the sun could do.

Then he had an idea -- he could ask an animal to cut through the
net! The sun's heat might not reach tiny creatures. He called together
all the small animals -- mice, rabbits, frogs, turtles, squirrels,
and others -- and they climbed the great tree.

One by one, the animals tried to bit through the net. Turtle crawled
up, and extended his neck to bite through the trap. As he stretched
out his neck, the heat of the sun became too great, and burned him.
Rabbit tried next. He hopped up cautiously, but the heat was too
strong for him, too, and his whiskers were scorched. One by one, the
animals tried and failed.

Finally it was the mouse's turn. He crept up underneath the net --
and began to chew through. He was so small that the sun's heat did
not reach him. At length, the mouse freed the sun.

The sun came out slowly, stretched, and continued along the path as
if nothing had ever happened.

And the world was light again.

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"We did not weave the web of life. We | Lyn Dearborn; Naturalist/Person
are merely a strand in it. Whatever | Turtle Clan Ojibwe
we do to the web, we do to ourselves" | dearborn@anchor.engr.sgi.com
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