Post by Okwes on Sept 21, 2007 0:56:55 GMT -5
Evening Star and the Black Bird - Karasha
Long, long ago the Karasha Indians of South America were still nomads who
spent all their time romaing through the forests, hunting game, fishing in
the great river Beracan, and gathering roots and berries. At that time they
did not know how to grow crops.
Once upon a time there were two Karasha sisters, Imakro and Denake. The
elder, Imakro, was a proud, haughty girl with high ambitions. The younger,
Denake, was a kind hearted, modest and good-tempered, quite the opposite of
her hard sister.
In the evenings Imakro used to sit outside their hut and look at the Evening
Star, Tajnakan, the Karashas called it. It shone out in the night sky with a
golden light, so bright and beautiful that the girl could hardly take her
eyes off it. In the end she fell quite in love with it, partly because it
was so beautiful and partly, perhaps, because it was so far away.
Was it really out of reach? One evening Imakro sat down in front of
the hut and sighed deeply. "What's wrong, Imakro?" asked her father. "Why
are you sighing?" "Oh father," replied the girl sadly, "every night I look
up and see the beautiful Tajnakan shining in the night. If only I could go
up into the sky to join it."
"It's a little too far away, Imakro," answered her father, smiling. "No one
has ever been able to reach up there." "But father," said Imakro, "I'm so
sad, and I haven't been able to sleep since I saw how beautiful Tanjakan
was." "You still can't reach it, my child. So you'll just have to put it out
of your mind."
Yet Imakro shook her head. "How can you expect me to forget something so
lovely?" So her father tried to comfort her. "Perhaps if you pray hard
enough," he said, "the star will come down to you." Imakro stood up and held
her arms out to the star. "Lord Tajnakan, the great and good," she cried.
"Come to me, I beg you. I am waiting for you." Then she went into the hut
and lay down with the rest of her family. Soon she was fast asleep, dreaming
of the Evening Star and its beautiful golden light.
All at once she woke up. A hand touched her on the shoulder, and she saw
someone leaning over her. "Who are you?" Imakro asked the stranger. "I am
Tajnakan," replied a deep voice. Imakro was afraid. "You? she stammered. "Is
it really you, the Evening Star I've so longed to see?" "Yes, Imakro,
replied the strangers voice. "You called me, and I heard you. I've come to
ask you to marry me." Imakro felt a wave of joy rushing over her. She jumped
up. "Wake up, everyone! she cried, her voice trembling. "Tajnakan has come
to me, and he wants to marry me. I'm the happiest woman in the whole wide
world."
She ran to the fire and threw on some longs. Up leapt the flames, and the
glow lit up Tajnakan's face. But Imakro could scarcely believe her eyes. Her
beautiful Evening Star was an old, old man bowed down by the years. His hair
and beard were white, and his face deeply wrinkled. Horror stricken, Imakro
covered her face to shut out the sight of him.
"Go away!" she shrieked. "It was the lovely Evening Star I called, not you.
You're just an ugly old man. I want to marry a fine young man, someone tall
and strong, not a miserable old skeleton like you!"
Tajnakan bit his lip, and his face grew dark and bitter. Without a word he
turned away and went to leave the hut. But Denake, Imakro's younger sister,
took pity on the poor old man. She was ashamed of her sister's biting
rudeness, and her kind heart could not bear to see the stranger treated so
cruelly.
"Please stay, sir," she said to Tajnakan. "Don't let us part so unhappily."
And turning to her father, she went on: "If you will let me, father, I will
marry Tajnakan instead." Tajnakan smiled, and he took Denake's hand. A few
days later the marriage took place, with much feasting and joy. Only Imakro
mocked her sister for marrying such and old man.
Tajnakan built a hut, and he and Denake settled down together happily. One
day Tajnake decided to go out. "You see the house, Denake," he said. "I'm
going out to work." "What are you going to do?" Denake asked.
"You'll soon see," her husband replied smiling. "I'm going to sow plants
you've never seen before. No one here has ever seen them. You're going to be
glad you married me." Denake looked puzzled. "What does 'sow' mean?" she
asked.
"Sowing is doing what the wind does," answered Tajnakan. "I take the seeds
and put them in the earth. Then the plants grow and bear fruit, and
afterwards you can gather the fruit and eat it."
Denake's question was not as silly as it sounds. As we know, the Indians of
the forest had not yet learned to grow crops. Tajnakan left Denake in the
house, and went away to where the wide river Beracan flowed over rapids.
There he stepped into the water and whispered a magic spell: "Tajnakan,
Evening Star, shining on high, to the great Beracan river does cry; Carry me
roots now, and plants too, and seeds, that I may fill the poor Karasha'a
needs."
All at once, swirling down the river, came grains of maize and wheat,
sugar-cane plants, tapioca roots and pineapple plants. Tajnakan caught them
as they floated down, and born them off to the bank. Then he made a clearing
in the forest, turned over the patch of earth, sowed the seeds and planted
the roots and plants. He had made a field.
It was a big task, and took quite some time. Denake, waiting at home for her
husband, began to worry. "Perhaps he's ill," she said to herself. "My
Tajnakan is old, and not very strong. I hope nothing has happened to him."
In the end Denake could wait no longer, and she ran into the forest to find
him. After a long and anxious search, she found the new field, and then she
caught sight of her husband. She gasped in astonishement.
Tajnakan was no longer a frail old man, but a fine, handsome youth, with
arms so strong that he was uprooting trees from the ground. He was wearing
the jewelled ornaments of a tribal chief, and wondrous symbols were painted
on his body. Denake could not believe anyone could change so much, but her
husband smiled at her. "Yes, I'm really Tajnakan," he said.
"Does that mean that you're not old afterall?" asked Denake, amazed. "I'm as
old as when you first saw me," replied Tajnakan. "But at the same time I'm
as young as you see me now." Denake ran into his arms. Then she took him
back to show him to her family. As they entered the village they met Imakro,
who stared in astonishement.
"Who's that with you?" she said to her sister. "It's Tajnakan, my husband,"
replied Denake proudly. "Isn't he handsome?" And so he was. Imakro was
speechless with envy. Why, oh why had she refused him? Eaten up with longing
and jealousy, she pushed Denake aside and whispered in Tajnakan's ear.
"Denake's simple and stupid. What's she to you? Wasn't it I who called you,
I for who you came down from the sky?" "That's true," said Tajnakan. "And
wasn't it I you came to marry?" "That's true too," said Tajnakan. "Then you
belong to me. You're my husband.: And she took Tajnakan's arem and tried to
drag him away.
Denake stood to one side, watching silently while this was going on. She saw
Imakro's eyes gleam in triumph. But Tajnakan pulled his arm from Imakro's
grasp. "When I was an old man, you refused me," he said sternly. "You,
Imakro, will never understand how age carries youth within it, just as youth
already carries the seeds of age. You cannot see through to the heart of
things. You see only the outside, but Denake saw my heart. Go away!"
Imakro let out a piercing shriek. She lifted her arms to the sky and tore
her hair. Then she fell to the ground, foaming at the mouth and shaking
through and through. The villager came running up. "What's happened? they
cried. "Has an evil spirit got into her?" Denake tried to go to her sister,
but Tajnakan held her back.
"Don't touch her," he said. "She's lost. It's too late to help her now."
When Imakro's parents ran to help their daughter, she had gone. No one had
seen it happen, but where she had lain a black bird was standing, flapping
its wings and wailing. The sound was as sad as sad could be, and at the same
time it had an evil ring to it: "Kree-ah, kreee-ah! Are you there? Are you
there?"
Imakro had turned into the black bird. Ever since then the bird has wandered
through the night, crying to Tajnakan, because Imakro cannot forgive him.
When people hear it wailing, their blood runs cold. Sometimes, when lovers
walk in the forest at night, the bird flies down and pecks a the girl's head
again and again, trying to drive Denake away and win back Tajnakan --
Tajnakan the great, who taught the Karashas to grow crops, because Denake's
love was stronger than Imakro's selfishness.
"Listen," people will say when they hear the bird wailing at night. "It's
Imakro, still longing for Tajnakan." And far away, high in the night sky,
the Evening Star goes behind a cloud.
www.angelfire.com/ca/Indian/EveningStar.html
Long, long ago the Karasha Indians of South America were still nomads who
spent all their time romaing through the forests, hunting game, fishing in
the great river Beracan, and gathering roots and berries. At that time they
did not know how to grow crops.
Once upon a time there were two Karasha sisters, Imakro and Denake. The
elder, Imakro, was a proud, haughty girl with high ambitions. The younger,
Denake, was a kind hearted, modest and good-tempered, quite the opposite of
her hard sister.
In the evenings Imakro used to sit outside their hut and look at the Evening
Star, Tajnakan, the Karashas called it. It shone out in the night sky with a
golden light, so bright and beautiful that the girl could hardly take her
eyes off it. In the end she fell quite in love with it, partly because it
was so beautiful and partly, perhaps, because it was so far away.
Was it really out of reach? One evening Imakro sat down in front of
the hut and sighed deeply. "What's wrong, Imakro?" asked her father. "Why
are you sighing?" "Oh father," replied the girl sadly, "every night I look
up and see the beautiful Tajnakan shining in the night. If only I could go
up into the sky to join it."
"It's a little too far away, Imakro," answered her father, smiling. "No one
has ever been able to reach up there." "But father," said Imakro, "I'm so
sad, and I haven't been able to sleep since I saw how beautiful Tanjakan
was." "You still can't reach it, my child. So you'll just have to put it out
of your mind."
Yet Imakro shook her head. "How can you expect me to forget something so
lovely?" So her father tried to comfort her. "Perhaps if you pray hard
enough," he said, "the star will come down to you." Imakro stood up and held
her arms out to the star. "Lord Tajnakan, the great and good," she cried.
"Come to me, I beg you. I am waiting for you." Then she went into the hut
and lay down with the rest of her family. Soon she was fast asleep, dreaming
of the Evening Star and its beautiful golden light.
All at once she woke up. A hand touched her on the shoulder, and she saw
someone leaning over her. "Who are you?" Imakro asked the stranger. "I am
Tajnakan," replied a deep voice. Imakro was afraid. "You? she stammered. "Is
it really you, the Evening Star I've so longed to see?" "Yes, Imakro,
replied the strangers voice. "You called me, and I heard you. I've come to
ask you to marry me." Imakro felt a wave of joy rushing over her. She jumped
up. "Wake up, everyone! she cried, her voice trembling. "Tajnakan has come
to me, and he wants to marry me. I'm the happiest woman in the whole wide
world."
She ran to the fire and threw on some longs. Up leapt the flames, and the
glow lit up Tajnakan's face. But Imakro could scarcely believe her eyes. Her
beautiful Evening Star was an old, old man bowed down by the years. His hair
and beard were white, and his face deeply wrinkled. Horror stricken, Imakro
covered her face to shut out the sight of him.
"Go away!" she shrieked. "It was the lovely Evening Star I called, not you.
You're just an ugly old man. I want to marry a fine young man, someone tall
and strong, not a miserable old skeleton like you!"
Tajnakan bit his lip, and his face grew dark and bitter. Without a word he
turned away and went to leave the hut. But Denake, Imakro's younger sister,
took pity on the poor old man. She was ashamed of her sister's biting
rudeness, and her kind heart could not bear to see the stranger treated so
cruelly.
"Please stay, sir," she said to Tajnakan. "Don't let us part so unhappily."
And turning to her father, she went on: "If you will let me, father, I will
marry Tajnakan instead." Tajnakan smiled, and he took Denake's hand. A few
days later the marriage took place, with much feasting and joy. Only Imakro
mocked her sister for marrying such and old man.
Tajnakan built a hut, and he and Denake settled down together happily. One
day Tajnake decided to go out. "You see the house, Denake," he said. "I'm
going out to work." "What are you going to do?" Denake asked.
"You'll soon see," her husband replied smiling. "I'm going to sow plants
you've never seen before. No one here has ever seen them. You're going to be
glad you married me." Denake looked puzzled. "What does 'sow' mean?" she
asked.
"Sowing is doing what the wind does," answered Tajnakan. "I take the seeds
and put them in the earth. Then the plants grow and bear fruit, and
afterwards you can gather the fruit and eat it."
Denake's question was not as silly as it sounds. As we know, the Indians of
the forest had not yet learned to grow crops. Tajnakan left Denake in the
house, and went away to where the wide river Beracan flowed over rapids.
There he stepped into the water and whispered a magic spell: "Tajnakan,
Evening Star, shining on high, to the great Beracan river does cry; Carry me
roots now, and plants too, and seeds, that I may fill the poor Karasha'a
needs."
All at once, swirling down the river, came grains of maize and wheat,
sugar-cane plants, tapioca roots and pineapple plants. Tajnakan caught them
as they floated down, and born them off to the bank. Then he made a clearing
in the forest, turned over the patch of earth, sowed the seeds and planted
the roots and plants. He had made a field.
It was a big task, and took quite some time. Denake, waiting at home for her
husband, began to worry. "Perhaps he's ill," she said to herself. "My
Tajnakan is old, and not very strong. I hope nothing has happened to him."
In the end Denake could wait no longer, and she ran into the forest to find
him. After a long and anxious search, she found the new field, and then she
caught sight of her husband. She gasped in astonishement.
Tajnakan was no longer a frail old man, but a fine, handsome youth, with
arms so strong that he was uprooting trees from the ground. He was wearing
the jewelled ornaments of a tribal chief, and wondrous symbols were painted
on his body. Denake could not believe anyone could change so much, but her
husband smiled at her. "Yes, I'm really Tajnakan," he said.
"Does that mean that you're not old afterall?" asked Denake, amazed. "I'm as
old as when you first saw me," replied Tajnakan. "But at the same time I'm
as young as you see me now." Denake ran into his arms. Then she took him
back to show him to her family. As they entered the village they met Imakro,
who stared in astonishement.
"Who's that with you?" she said to her sister. "It's Tajnakan, my husband,"
replied Denake proudly. "Isn't he handsome?" And so he was. Imakro was
speechless with envy. Why, oh why had she refused him? Eaten up with longing
and jealousy, she pushed Denake aside and whispered in Tajnakan's ear.
"Denake's simple and stupid. What's she to you? Wasn't it I who called you,
I for who you came down from the sky?" "That's true," said Tajnakan. "And
wasn't it I you came to marry?" "That's true too," said Tajnakan. "Then you
belong to me. You're my husband.: And she took Tajnakan's arem and tried to
drag him away.
Denake stood to one side, watching silently while this was going on. She saw
Imakro's eyes gleam in triumph. But Tajnakan pulled his arm from Imakro's
grasp. "When I was an old man, you refused me," he said sternly. "You,
Imakro, will never understand how age carries youth within it, just as youth
already carries the seeds of age. You cannot see through to the heart of
things. You see only the outside, but Denake saw my heart. Go away!"
Imakro let out a piercing shriek. She lifted her arms to the sky and tore
her hair. Then she fell to the ground, foaming at the mouth and shaking
through and through. The villager came running up. "What's happened? they
cried. "Has an evil spirit got into her?" Denake tried to go to her sister,
but Tajnakan held her back.
"Don't touch her," he said. "She's lost. It's too late to help her now."
When Imakro's parents ran to help their daughter, she had gone. No one had
seen it happen, but where she had lain a black bird was standing, flapping
its wings and wailing. The sound was as sad as sad could be, and at the same
time it had an evil ring to it: "Kree-ah, kreee-ah! Are you there? Are you
there?"
Imakro had turned into the black bird. Ever since then the bird has wandered
through the night, crying to Tajnakan, because Imakro cannot forgive him.
When people hear it wailing, their blood runs cold. Sometimes, when lovers
walk in the forest at night, the bird flies down and pecks a the girl's head
again and again, trying to drive Denake away and win back Tajnakan --
Tajnakan the great, who taught the Karashas to grow crops, because Denake's
love was stronger than Imakro's selfishness.
"Listen," people will say when they hear the bird wailing at night. "It's
Imakro, still longing for Tajnakan." And far away, high in the night sky,
the Evening Star goes behind a cloud.
www.angelfire.com/ca/Indian/EveningStar.html