Post by Okwes on May 23, 2007 10:30:35 GMT -5
Great Serpent and the Great Flood - Ojibwa
From Maine and Nova Scotia to the Rocky Mountains, Indians told stories
about the Great Serpent. More than a century ago the serpent was considered
to be "a genuine spirit of evil." Some version of the story of the Great
Flood of long ago, as recounted here, is told around the world.
Nanabozho (Nuna-bozo, accented on bozo) was the hero of many stories told by
the Chippewa Indians. At one time they lived on the shores of Lake Superior,
in what are now the states of Minnesota and Wisconsin and the province of
Ontario.
One day when Nanabozho returned to his lodge after a long journey, he missed
his young cousin who lived with him. He called the cousin's name but heard
no answer. Looking around on the sand for tracks, Nanabozho was startled by
the trail of the Great Serpent. He then knew that his cousin had been seized
by his enemy.
Nanabozho picked up his bow and arrows and followed the track of the
serpent. He passed the great river, climbed mountains, and crossed over
valleys until he came to the shores of a deep and gloomy lake. It is now
called Manitou Lake, Spirit Lake, and also the Lake of Devils. The trail of
the Great Serpent led to the edge of the water.
Nanabozho could see, at the bottom of the lake, the house of the Great
Serpent. It was filled with evil spirits, who were his servants and his
companions. Their forms were monstrous and terrible. Most of them, like
their master, resembled spirits. In the centre of this horrible group was
the Great Serpent himself, coiling his terrifying length around the cousin
of Nanabozho.
The head of the Serpent was red as blood. His fierce eyes glowed like fire.
His entire body was armed with hard and glistening scales of every color and
shade.
Looking down on these twisting spirits of evil, Nanabozho made up his mind
that he would get revenge on them for the death of his cousin.
He said to the clouds, "Disappear!"
And the clouds went out of sight.
"Winds, be still at once!" And the winds became still.
When the air over the lake of evil spirits had become stagnant, Nanabozho
said to the sun, "Shine over the lake with all the fierceness you can. Make
the water boil."
In these ways, thought Nanabozho, he would force the Great Serpent to seek
the cool shade of the trees growing on the shores of the lake. There he
would seize the enemy and get revenge.
After giving his orders, Nanabozho took his bow and arrows and placed
himself near the spot where he thought the serpents would come to enjoy the
shade. Then he changed himself into the broken stump of a withered tree.
The winds became still, the air stagnant, and the sun shot hot rays from a
cloudless sky. In time, the water of the lake became troubled, and bubbles
rose to the surface. The rays of the sun had penetrated to the home of the
serpents. As the water bubbled and foamed, a serpent lifted his head above
the centre of the lake and gazed around the shores. Soon another serpent
came to the surface. Both listened for the footsteps of Nanabozho, but they
heard him nowhere.
"Nanabozho is sleeping," they said to one another.
And then they plunged beneath the waters, which seemed to hiss as they
closed over the evil spirits.
Not long after, the lake became more troubled. Its water boiled from its
very depths, and the hot waves dashed wildly against the rocks on its banks.
Soon the Great Serpent came slowly to the surface of the water and moved
toward the shore. His blood-red crest glowed. The reflection from his scales
was blinding--as blinding as the glitter of a sleet-covered forest beneath
the winter sun. He was followed by all the evil spirits. So great was their
number that they soon covered the shores of the lake.
When they saw the broken stump of the withered tree, they suspected that it
might be one of the disguises of Nanabozho. They knew his cunning. One of
the serpents approached the stump, wound his tail around it, and tried to
drag it down into the lake. Nanabozho could hardly keep from crying aloud,
for the tail of the monster prickled his sides. But he stood firm and was
silent.
The evil spirits moved on. The Great Serpent glided into the forest and
wound his many coils around the trees. His companions also found shade--all
but one. One remained near the shore to listen for the footsteps of
Nanabozho.
From the stump, Nanabozho watched until all the serpents were asleep and the
guard was intently looking in another direction. Then he silently drew an
arrow from his quiver, placed it in his bow, and aimed it at the heart of
the Great Serpent. It reached its mark. With a howl that shook the mountains
and startled the wild beasts in their caves, the monster awoke. Followed by
its terrified companions, which also were howling with rage and terror, the
Great Serpent plunged into the water.
At the bottom of the lake there still lay the body of Nanabozho's cousin. In
their fury the serpents tore it into a thousand pieces. His shredded lungs
rose to the surface and covered the lake with whiteness.
The Great Serpent soon knew that he would die from his wound, but he and his
companions were determined to destroy Nanabozho. They caused the water of
the lake to swell upward and to pound against the shore with the sound of
many thunders. Madly the flood rolled over the land, over the tracks of
Nanabozho, carrying with it rocks and trees. High on the crest of the
highest wave floated the wounded Great Serpent. His eyes glared around him,
and his hot breath mingled with the hot breath of his many companions.
Nanabozho, fleeing before the angry waters, thought of his Indian children.
He ran through their villages, shouting, "Run to the mountaintops! The Great
Serpent is angry and is flooding the earth!
Run! Run!"
The Indians caught up their children and found safety on the mountains.
Nanabozho continued his flight along the base of the western hills and then
up a high mountain beyond Lake Superior, far to the north. There he found
many men and animals that had escaped from the flood that was already
covering the valleys and plains and even the highest hills. Still the waters
continued to rise. Soon all the mountains were under the flood, except the
high one on which stood Nanabozho.
There he gathered together timber and made a raft. Upon it the men and women
and animals with him placed themselves. Almost immediately the mountaintop
disappeared from their view, and they floated along on the face of the
waters. For many days they floated. At long last, the flood began to
subside. Soon the people on the raft saw the trees on the tops of the
mountains. Then they saw the mountains and hills, then the plains and the
valleys.
When the water disappeared from the land, the people who survived learned
that the Great Serpent was dead and that his companions had returned to the
bottom of the lake of spirits. There they remain to this day. For fear of
Nanabozho, they have never dared to come forth
again.
www.tuscaroras.com/traderdon/Legends/great_serpent_and_the_great_flood.htm
From Maine and Nova Scotia to the Rocky Mountains, Indians told stories
about the Great Serpent. More than a century ago the serpent was considered
to be "a genuine spirit of evil." Some version of the story of the Great
Flood of long ago, as recounted here, is told around the world.
Nanabozho (Nuna-bozo, accented on bozo) was the hero of many stories told by
the Chippewa Indians. At one time they lived on the shores of Lake Superior,
in what are now the states of Minnesota and Wisconsin and the province of
Ontario.
One day when Nanabozho returned to his lodge after a long journey, he missed
his young cousin who lived with him. He called the cousin's name but heard
no answer. Looking around on the sand for tracks, Nanabozho was startled by
the trail of the Great Serpent. He then knew that his cousin had been seized
by his enemy.
Nanabozho picked up his bow and arrows and followed the track of the
serpent. He passed the great river, climbed mountains, and crossed over
valleys until he came to the shores of a deep and gloomy lake. It is now
called Manitou Lake, Spirit Lake, and also the Lake of Devils. The trail of
the Great Serpent led to the edge of the water.
Nanabozho could see, at the bottom of the lake, the house of the Great
Serpent. It was filled with evil spirits, who were his servants and his
companions. Their forms were monstrous and terrible. Most of them, like
their master, resembled spirits. In the centre of this horrible group was
the Great Serpent himself, coiling his terrifying length around the cousin
of Nanabozho.
The head of the Serpent was red as blood. His fierce eyes glowed like fire.
His entire body was armed with hard and glistening scales of every color and
shade.
Looking down on these twisting spirits of evil, Nanabozho made up his mind
that he would get revenge on them for the death of his cousin.
He said to the clouds, "Disappear!"
And the clouds went out of sight.
"Winds, be still at once!" And the winds became still.
When the air over the lake of evil spirits had become stagnant, Nanabozho
said to the sun, "Shine over the lake with all the fierceness you can. Make
the water boil."
In these ways, thought Nanabozho, he would force the Great Serpent to seek
the cool shade of the trees growing on the shores of the lake. There he
would seize the enemy and get revenge.
After giving his orders, Nanabozho took his bow and arrows and placed
himself near the spot where he thought the serpents would come to enjoy the
shade. Then he changed himself into the broken stump of a withered tree.
The winds became still, the air stagnant, and the sun shot hot rays from a
cloudless sky. In time, the water of the lake became troubled, and bubbles
rose to the surface. The rays of the sun had penetrated to the home of the
serpents. As the water bubbled and foamed, a serpent lifted his head above
the centre of the lake and gazed around the shores. Soon another serpent
came to the surface. Both listened for the footsteps of Nanabozho, but they
heard him nowhere.
"Nanabozho is sleeping," they said to one another.
And then they plunged beneath the waters, which seemed to hiss as they
closed over the evil spirits.
Not long after, the lake became more troubled. Its water boiled from its
very depths, and the hot waves dashed wildly against the rocks on its banks.
Soon the Great Serpent came slowly to the surface of the water and moved
toward the shore. His blood-red crest glowed. The reflection from his scales
was blinding--as blinding as the glitter of a sleet-covered forest beneath
the winter sun. He was followed by all the evil spirits. So great was their
number that they soon covered the shores of the lake.
When they saw the broken stump of the withered tree, they suspected that it
might be one of the disguises of Nanabozho. They knew his cunning. One of
the serpents approached the stump, wound his tail around it, and tried to
drag it down into the lake. Nanabozho could hardly keep from crying aloud,
for the tail of the monster prickled his sides. But he stood firm and was
silent.
The evil spirits moved on. The Great Serpent glided into the forest and
wound his many coils around the trees. His companions also found shade--all
but one. One remained near the shore to listen for the footsteps of
Nanabozho.
From the stump, Nanabozho watched until all the serpents were asleep and the
guard was intently looking in another direction. Then he silently drew an
arrow from his quiver, placed it in his bow, and aimed it at the heart of
the Great Serpent. It reached its mark. With a howl that shook the mountains
and startled the wild beasts in their caves, the monster awoke. Followed by
its terrified companions, which also were howling with rage and terror, the
Great Serpent plunged into the water.
At the bottom of the lake there still lay the body of Nanabozho's cousin. In
their fury the serpents tore it into a thousand pieces. His shredded lungs
rose to the surface and covered the lake with whiteness.
The Great Serpent soon knew that he would die from his wound, but he and his
companions were determined to destroy Nanabozho. They caused the water of
the lake to swell upward and to pound against the shore with the sound of
many thunders. Madly the flood rolled over the land, over the tracks of
Nanabozho, carrying with it rocks and trees. High on the crest of the
highest wave floated the wounded Great Serpent. His eyes glared around him,
and his hot breath mingled with the hot breath of his many companions.
Nanabozho, fleeing before the angry waters, thought of his Indian children.
He ran through their villages, shouting, "Run to the mountaintops! The Great
Serpent is angry and is flooding the earth!
Run! Run!"
The Indians caught up their children and found safety on the mountains.
Nanabozho continued his flight along the base of the western hills and then
up a high mountain beyond Lake Superior, far to the north. There he found
many men and animals that had escaped from the flood that was already
covering the valleys and plains and even the highest hills. Still the waters
continued to rise. Soon all the mountains were under the flood, except the
high one on which stood Nanabozho.
There he gathered together timber and made a raft. Upon it the men and women
and animals with him placed themselves. Almost immediately the mountaintop
disappeared from their view, and they floated along on the face of the
waters. For many days they floated. At long last, the flood began to
subside. Soon the people on the raft saw the trees on the tops of the
mountains. Then they saw the mountains and hills, then the plains and the
valleys.
When the water disappeared from the land, the people who survived learned
that the Great Serpent was dead and that his companions had returned to the
bottom of the lake of spirits. There they remain to this day. For fear of
Nanabozho, they have never dared to come forth
again.
www.tuscaroras.com/traderdon/Legends/great_serpent_and_the_great_flood.htm