Post by Okwes on Apr 1, 2007 22:13:31 GMT -5
Coyote's Sad Song to the Moon - Pueblos
Long ago, when the world was young, the sky was very dark at night. The Creator Spirit that had made the world had made the sun to ride across the sky by day, but the night sky was empty. The Creator Spirit heard the prayers of the People and the animals who wanted to be able to see at night. He called on Coyote to come to him and serve him.
Coyote came and waited respectfully, looking down as the Creator Spirit gave him a deerskin pouch tied with a piece of sinew. The Creator Spirit told Coyote to walk a certain path and to open the bag when he came to the highest point on the trail. Coyote was not to open the bag any sooner than the highest point The Creator Spirit told Coyote that the trail would be long, and he would go many days and nights without rest. He told Coyote to be strong.
Coyote took the pouch and went on the path he had been given.
Coyote was not highly regarded by the People and other animals, and he was proud to have been chosen to take the pouch to the highest point on the trail. At first he walked proudly, the pouch hanging from his mouth, along the path he had been given. As the day wore into night, and the night became day again, Coyote walked less proudly. He grew tired and hungry, and cared less about the great honor that had been given to him. As another night came and went, the spit from Coyote's mouth soaked into the dried deer sinew, and it began to soften, and tasted liked meat.
Before he knew what he was doing. Coyote was chewing on the sinew, just as a hunter on a long hunt will chew on dried meat. Soon the sinew was chewed in two, and the pouch fell out of Coyote's mouth.
Coyote was only half-way up the great mountain when the pouch fell. The pouch hit the ground and came open.
Out of the pouch flew thousands of pieces of shiny mica; they flew like the butterflies up into the sky and settled against the blanket of night to become the stars. Out of the pouch rolled a ball of mica, and it rolled up the trail and into the sky to become the moon.
But Coyote was not at the highest point of the trail when the pouch came open, and the moon did not climb into the sky on its proper path. Instead of riding only across the night sky, the moon sometimes comes up at night, and sometimes comes up by day. And it turns this way and that, like a hunter who is lost, looking for the proper path to follow.
Because he did not live up to the trust the Creator Spirit had placed in him, Coyote hung his head in shame. Then he looked up to the moon and sang sadly his apology to the moon for his lack of courage.
To this day, Coyote is He-who-hangs-his-head, and he only lifts his head when he sees the moon. He lifts his head and sings his sad song of apology to the moon for not carrying the pouch to the highest point of the trail.
A story of the People of the Eight Northern Pueblos along the Rio Grande in New Mexico
[Told by a curio shop owner in alburquerque, New Mexico, in the summer of 1967.]
Long ago, when the world was young, the sky was very dark at night. The Creator Spirit that had made the world had made the sun to ride across the sky by day, but the night sky was empty. The Creator Spirit heard the prayers of the People and the animals who wanted to be able to see at night. He called on Coyote to come to him and serve him.
Coyote came and waited respectfully, looking down as the Creator Spirit gave him a deerskin pouch tied with a piece of sinew. The Creator Spirit told Coyote to walk a certain path and to open the bag when he came to the highest point on the trail. Coyote was not to open the bag any sooner than the highest point The Creator Spirit told Coyote that the trail would be long, and he would go many days and nights without rest. He told Coyote to be strong.
Coyote took the pouch and went on the path he had been given.
Coyote was not highly regarded by the People and other animals, and he was proud to have been chosen to take the pouch to the highest point on the trail. At first he walked proudly, the pouch hanging from his mouth, along the path he had been given. As the day wore into night, and the night became day again, Coyote walked less proudly. He grew tired and hungry, and cared less about the great honor that had been given to him. As another night came and went, the spit from Coyote's mouth soaked into the dried deer sinew, and it began to soften, and tasted liked meat.
Before he knew what he was doing. Coyote was chewing on the sinew, just as a hunter on a long hunt will chew on dried meat. Soon the sinew was chewed in two, and the pouch fell out of Coyote's mouth.
Coyote was only half-way up the great mountain when the pouch fell. The pouch hit the ground and came open.
Out of the pouch flew thousands of pieces of shiny mica; they flew like the butterflies up into the sky and settled against the blanket of night to become the stars. Out of the pouch rolled a ball of mica, and it rolled up the trail and into the sky to become the moon.
But Coyote was not at the highest point of the trail when the pouch came open, and the moon did not climb into the sky on its proper path. Instead of riding only across the night sky, the moon sometimes comes up at night, and sometimes comes up by day. And it turns this way and that, like a hunter who is lost, looking for the proper path to follow.
Because he did not live up to the trust the Creator Spirit had placed in him, Coyote hung his head in shame. Then he looked up to the moon and sang sadly his apology to the moon for his lack of courage.
To this day, Coyote is He-who-hangs-his-head, and he only lifts his head when he sees the moon. He lifts his head and sings his sad song of apology to the moon for not carrying the pouch to the highest point of the trail.
A story of the People of the Eight Northern Pueblos along the Rio Grande in New Mexico
[Told by a curio shop owner in alburquerque, New Mexico, in the summer of 1967.]