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Young Spirit Tales
Stories for the young ones and the young at heart.

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The Legend of The Multiplying Box

In an Indian village lived Yakdsi, the dirty boy.  Ever since he had been old enough to run and play, he had not washed himself.  He would not let anyone else wash him. Water never touched his body.  Soon he did not look like a boy at all.  He did not look like an animal either, for any animal would be ashamed to be as dirty as he.  

At last his parents said, “We cannot stand the shame of having such a son.  An evil spirit must be in him.  We are going to move to another village.”  

“We will move with you,” said the others.  “For many moons now, we have had no luck with our hunting and fishing.  No matter how the Chief fasts and bathes, no animal or fish will come near us.  We must go far away from that dirty boy.”  

Canoes were fastened together.  Houseboards were lashed behind them.  Everything useful in the village was packed and put into them.  

Yakdsi’s grandmother wished to stay with him, but the others would not let her.  Before leaving she put some live coals into a clam shell.  Then, she put the shell into a hole where a housepost had been.  Secretly she told her grandson about the fire.  

“I will not go the village,” said Yakdsi’s ten-year-old brother.  “I like my brother, and I am going to stay with him.”  When his father and mother said that he could not stay, he ran into the woods and hid.  There he stayed until all the people had left.  

The two boys were now alone.  They had no food.  They had no house to live in.  They had only the fire that their grandmother had left.  But in a few hours they made themselves a shelter of hemlock branches.  They gathered moss for a bed and for blankets.  They were hungry, for all the food had been taken from the village, but they slept well.  

Just as the sun was rising, they were awakened by the call of an eagle. “That is a strange cry,” said Yakdsi.  “What can it mean?”   Together they went to the beach.  There they found a fine fat trout.  They took it and roasted it by the fire.  How good it smelled!  

“We must not east it,” said Yakdsi.  “I am too unclean.”  Instead, he went away to bathe himself in a woodland pool.  All day he stayed at the pool.  He washed himself, and then rubbed himself with spruce boughs.  Again he washed, and again he rubbed.  So the day was spent.  When he returned to his brother at night, he went straight to bed.  

The next morning the boys were again awakened by the eagle.  This time a huge flounder was left on the beach.  Still Yakdsi would not eat, but went again to the bathing pool.  By the late afternoon his body was clean and glowing.  

On the third morning, the call of the eagle was clear and proud.  A king salmon was found on the beach.  They both ate a hearty meal.  When they had finished, Yakdsi went again to his bathing pool.  As he washed, he felt strong and powerful.  The ripples in the water told him that good spirits were near.  

“How good it feels to be clean!”  He said to himself, “I feel clean too, in my heart and in my soul.  But I am sorry for the trouble that I brought to my tribe.”  

At dawn of the following day, Yakdsi and his brother were awakened by a great shaking, and by water dripping from above.  Their brush shelter was gone.  They were lying on the sleeping benches of a beautiful plank house.  Hundreds of sea animals and sea flowers were clinging to the ceiling.  Hundreds of small fishes were swimming around the floor.  Then suddenly, all this sea life disappeared, and there, sitting in the seat of honour, was a spirit woman.  The spirit woman washed Yakdsi’s body with living water which gave him magic power.  As she washed she said to him:  

“You have made your body clean:
Keep it clean.
The spirit of the pool
Has cleansed your soul.
Keep it clean.

Keep all within you clean.
All without keep clean,
And the good spirit
Will stay with you
Throughout your days.”

“Because there is no evil in your soul, because you have made your body clean, and because your heart is kind, these gifts I give to you.  With this magic hunting rod, you have only to say, “Come, deer,” and a fine, large deer will lie at your feet.  If you say, “Plenty of salmon we need in our village,” all the nets and fish traps will be full.  But of all the gifts I give you, the most wonderful of all is the multiplying box.  No matter how much you take out, it will always be full.  If you whisper, “ten otter robes,” then ten glistening otter robes will fill the box with their beauty.  And if you should desire twenty fine coppers, then twenty fine coppers will appear in the multiplying box.”  

With the giving of these fine gifts, the spirit woman disappeared, but her gifts helped Yakdsi to become a great Chief.  With his multiplying box he gave to all the children the very best of birthday feasts.  If he wished to give them a great surprise, he had only to whisper the name of the spirit woman, and his fine house became for a few moments like a castle under the sea.  But, most of all, the multiplying box helped him to become the ‘Greatest Potlatch Giver’ in all the villages by the sea.  

(This story comes from the book - TOTEM TIPI and TUMPLINE - Stories of Canadian Indians - by Olive Fisher and Clara Tyner.)  

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WHY THE TREES LOSE THEIR LEAVES

(A Cherokee Legend)

In the early times, the trees and animals were always able to talk to one another.  They lived close to each other and shared many things; but every year, the cold time came and the birds would fly south to where it remained warm and would return with their families in the spring, when the warm season returned.  

One year, as the cold season approached Sparrow was injured.  He would not be strong enough to fly to the warm lands with his family by himself, so he made his family fly south to the warm lands without him.  

Injured, he knew he would not survive the cold season. So he sought the help of the trees.  He approached Oak.  “Oh, Oak, I am injured, and cannot fly, the cold season approaches, and if I do not find shelter before then, surely I shall die.  Please, Oak, let me shelter among your leaves and branches during the cold times that I may heal and greet my family on their return in the spring.”  

But Oak was a crusty old tree, and did not relish the idea of having a guest in the cold time, so he told sparrow: “Sparrow, go find somewhere else to spend the cold time.  I do not wish you to spend the cold time with me.”  

And poor Sparrow was hurt in his spirit to be turned away.  

So Sparrow went to Maple and asked her.  “Maple, I am hurt and not able to fly to the warm lands with my family for the cold season.  Please let me shelter among your leaves and branches during the cold time, or surely I will perish.  And Maple, though a very sweet tree, did not enjoy the thought of a guest for the cold time and she too, turned Sparrow away.  “You,  . . . you go ask someone else to shelter you, Sparrow.  I do not wish you to spend the cold time with me.”  

And again, hurt in spirit, Sparrow was turned away.  

Sparrow went in turn to each of the trees and asked each for shelter in the cold time; and each, and every time, Sparrow was turned away . . . until, there was no tree left to ask, except Pine.  

With no hope left, but not willing to accept death  . . . , Sparrow approached Pine.  

“Pine.  I am injured, and not able to fly south to the warm lands with my family.  If, I do not find shelter before the cold time, I will surely perish.  Please . . . , let me shelter among your leaves and branches during the cold time . . .”  

Pine thought to himself, (“I am the least of the trees, what can I do?”) . . . but his heart heard Sparrow’s plight.  “Sparrow, my leaves are tiny . . . more like needles  . . . my branches are not as many as other trees, but what I have you are welcome to share.”

And so, Sparrow spent the cold time with Pine.  And when the warm times returned in the spring, Sparrow’s family returned also.  And Sparrow had healed over the cold time and flew to greet their return.  

Creator had seen and heard all that had happened between Sparrow and the Trees.  And Creator called a great council of the Trees and spoke to them, “You who were given so much  . . .  Who had so much, would not share the least of what you had with Sparrow in his need.  Because of this  . . . , from this day forward, when the cold time is upon the land, your leaves shall wither and die and blow away.”  

Creator then spoke to Pine.  “Pine, you, who had the least of all the trees, gave so much, have touched my Spirit.  When the cold times come, You of all the trees shall keep your leaves they shall remain green through all the seasons for the gift you have given me, through Sparrow.”  

And that is why, to this day, that when the cold time comes to the land, all the leaves wither, and die, and blow away . . . except for Pine.  

(Permission to use, given by First People - please see my Wigwam H - Smoke Rings for their link.)

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Eagle With One Wing

The man, they say, the elder told,
Had lost his way for years. 
His looks had changed from head to toe, 
They say he loved his beers. 

Then, early one evening, of an autumn moon 
He stumbled into a dark river. 
Feathers and he, both soaked and wet, 
Where he fought to crawl out and shiver. 

When he lay down, eyes opened up, 
He struggled to make sense of this thing; 
The creature that perched next to him, 
Was an eagle with just one wing. 

"Get up, get up," the eagle squawked, 
"You'll freeze if you stay there." 
Tired and cross the man grunted back, 
"What causes you to care?" 

Eagle replied, "It is my turn, 
To give a helping hand. 
Funny to hear, but nonetheless, 
We all have purpose, understand!" 

"Get up, get up, get on your feet, 
Before you lose a limb. 
The cold will steal your warmth away, 
You must hold up your chin!" 

"You are not lost, you're not alone, 
You've quit, if anything! 
So did I, but what I'd give to fly. 
Now, be a man, or eagle with one wing!" 

Author, White Sparrow

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COYOTE, WOLVES, and BEARS

Once there were five wolves that would share meat with Coyote.  One night the wolves were staring at the sky.  “What are you looking at?” asked Coyote.  “There are two animals up there,” they told him.  “But we can’t get to them.”  “That is easy,” said Coyote.  He took his bow and shot an arrow into the sky where it stuck.  He shot another arrow, which stuck into the first.  Then, he shot another and another until the chain of arrows reached the ground.  The five wolves and Coyote climbed the arrows and the oldest wolf took along his dog.  When they reached the sky they could see that the animals were grizzly bears.  The wolves went near the bears and sat there looking at them and the bears looked back.  Coyote thought they looked good sitting there, so he left them and removed his arrow ladder. 

The three stars of the handle of the Big Dipper and the two stars of the bowl near the handle are the wolves.  The two stars on the front of the bowl that point to the North Star are the bears.  Alcor, the little star by the wolf in the middle of the handle is the dog.

-Original Native Band and Author Unknown

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Bluebird and the Coyote 

A long time ago the Bluebird’s feathers were a very ugly colour.
It lived near a lake with waters of the most delicate blue which never changed, because no stream flowed in or out.  Because the bird admired the blue water, it bathed in the lake four times every morning for four days, and every morning it sang:

 There’s blue water.
It lies there.
I went in.
I am all blue.

On the fourth morning it shed all its feathers and came out in its bare skin, but on the fifth morning it came out with blue feathers.

All the while, Coyote had been watching the bird.  He wanted to jump in and catch it for his dinner, but he was afraid of the blue water.  But on the fifth morning he said to the Bluebird:  “How is it that all your ugly colour has come out of your feathers, and now you are all blue and sprightly and beautiful?  You are more beautiful than anything that flies in the air.  I want to be blue, too!”

 “I went in only four times,” replied the Bluebird.  It then taught Coyote the little song it had sung.

 And so Coyote steeled his courage and jumped into the lake.  For four mornings he did this, singing the song the Bluebird had taught him, and on the fifth day he turned as blue as the bird.

That made Coyote feel very proud.  He was so proud to be a blue coyote that when he walked along he looked about to see if anyone was noticing how fine and blue he was.

Then, he started running very fast, looking at his shadow to see if it was also blue.  He was not watching the road, and presently he ran into a stump so hard that it threw him down upon the ground and he became dust-coloured all over.
And to this day, all coyotes are the colour of dusty earth!
The End
(Author Unknown)

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Wigwam A
White Sparrow Speaks -Signs
Wigwam B
Totem Teachings
-True Stories

Wigwam C
Dreams and Drums -Media
Wigwam D Between Sunlight and Storms -Poetry
Wigwam E Young Spirit  Tales
Wigwam F Health and Healing
-Native Remedies

Wigwam G Personal Picks 
-Works by others
Wigwam H Smoke Rings
-Web links
Wigwam I
Women & Warriors
-Relationships
Wigwam J
White Sparrow Wedding
Wigwam K
eBook:
Feathers Within

 

 
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    Publication in whole or in part is strictly prohibited without written authorization.

  
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