“A Flicker on My Breast”

     I wrote this poem after attending the opening reception of “My Father’s Father’s Sister, Our Ancestor Shimkhin”, at Chachalu Museum, Grand Ronde.

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That little spirit Frog that whispers to my mind,
The Hummingbirds of my heart,
The Flicker on my breast,
The knocking of the distant Woodpecker,
Who stores the acorns of thought & memory,
A whistle of the high off Osprey,
Holding a mangled snake in its shining ocean washed talons,
The waves . . .
They grow loud in my ears when the spirit is talking,
I see them in full color,
Those bright ones of flesh & soul,
Up there speaking humble words now,
Ringing a gentle bell held between just two fingers,
They know the power of the bell they hold,
Did you hear it?
Like lightening’s flash on the edge of the rainbow,
When Creator told our desert kin about some things,
He rang a bell in the sky,
A sound we had never heard before,
Old Man Coyote was once a handsome stud,
Full of mischief,
Has he not shown us his growth,
His wisdom,
His power,
His trans-form-ation,
Watch around as the world seems to crumble,
In that transformation,
Do we finally see the truth of things,
Like riding the ocean canoe on a star-lit night,
Faith full of forceful fears,
Did Coyote not tell you yet?
A rainbow on a misted pond,
Where underneath those coiled serpents tails fear not the talon nor fang,
A mirrored pool of sacred water,
On its axis you find the way inside yourself.

“Zigzags”

°•°•°

Lightening strikes my eyes,
Thunder in my ears,
Zigzags of arrow light,
Shot from Creator’s bow.

“When Toasted Bread Became a Luxury”

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I toast my white bread,
One slice at a time,
Waiting,
Wanting,
Needing,
That simplest of life’s now luxuries,
A quiet moment of anticipation,
The smell of cooked flour,
No notes of yeast,
On my 50 cent bargain loaf,
When will this toast be toasted,
This damn cheap toaster takes an hour,
White bread,
The only thing I can afford,
The colors of brown in bread,
Are beyond my poor native fingertip’s reach,
Brown is expensive,
Brown is rare,
Unique,
Made unduly exotic,
In a sea of white bread,
Shelved by status,
By cost,
Cost I must carry as a chosen burden,
To eat that brown flour,
Risen in ovens hotter than this lick,
Yeast and wheat and grandma’s bird feeder,
My brown memories are too expensive,
Top shelf,
Not,
On,
Sale.

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“Hunger, I Do Not Know Thee”

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A little tummy rumbles,
I had hot dogs yesterday,
A balogna sandwich the day before,
Ooooo they were good,
Could sure go for even a slice of balogna,
Salty slices of hog’s noses and racoon’s assholes,
As my dad would laughingly say,
“Dinner is coming, go out and play”
Said a beleaguered young woman,
Stew,
Chuck beef,
Bay leaf,
Simmering in that burn’t granite ware pot,
I hadn’t eaten since yesterday,
“You’re not hungry, just go out and play”,
My little legs took me only so far,
Before the smell of ripe crab apples,
Caught my attention,
Hunger sated for a sweet moment,
My belly is full of sour crab apples,
That the yard birds are drunk off of,
I woke up in a grass field,
Sun setting behind tall trees,
Hands cold and covered in evening dew,
A young woman’s voice hollering through cedars,
“Diiiiiinnnnner!”
That word carries on savory notes of beef stew,
Risen biscuits,
Hunger,
Tonight I do not know thee.

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“Destiny, Baby”

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I have shed so many anguished,
Joyous tears,
Revelations of the spirit,
Of Jazz,
On the cross-roads of brownness,
In the villages of my ancestors,
I am pushed forth,
Like a canoe into a raging sea of tears,
Those musical notes of sacred water,
A steady rhythm flows,
Through time like Coyote’s dagger knife,
Cut my heart open,
I bleed on the history-books of your lives,
Red blood on a Red-Road,
A single trumpet bleets,
Inside of tobacco filled dens,
At the intersections of two sets of gambling dice,
These old bones steady roll,
On mother of pearl plungers,
Brown fingers lash out at the white-man,
Whipped with brass,
Lashed with violin bow,
Chained to the melody,
The oppressor knows a new master,
Destiny Babies,
Conceived then on flea-bitten sheets,
Born screaming into the fire,
Forged on the hot tin rooves of their grammas cooking,
Their grampas stories,
Their daddies brokenness,
Their mommas per-sis-tence,
Excellence,
An English-man’s word,
Spoken on the lips,
Of sons & daughters born in bondage,
Not knowing the English,
Except for their language of brutality,
Dominating abuse,
Persecution,
Suffering,
Like gramma’s flap-jacks,
Or momma’s acorn-mush,
A daily diet to sate the ever-hungry,
Destiny,
Baby,
Toot your horn,
Sing your songs,
Remember your parents stories,
Tell them on the steps of fate,
Where plank houses & field labor cabins,
Once marked our hard toiled subjugation,
In the oat & barley fields,
Where now children play unaware,
On green grasses,
Under shady trees,
But that sheet draped old white-ghost,
Couldn’t leave those old bones well enough alone,
The children went out to play,
Where the swings once stood,
Were open graves,
Dug from the malice of some,
Wearing peak-ed white hats,
Stained red with new blood,
Burning cross-ed effigies from their flaming mouths,
Unknowingly waking up that spirit of opposition,
That oldest of brown attributes of excellence,
They sought to bury me,
Yet forgot their own history,
When they dug my grave that day,
They dug it shallow,
My ancestors bones were already stacked to the brim,
Like cord-wood on an eternal fire,
They dug my grave,
Nothing more than a mud puddle,
For a blood muddled barking dog,
This young dog digs bones baby.

°•°•°

“Street Girls”

(An Historic Film Review)

[Filmed in Eugene, Winter of 1972. Released in 1975.]

. . . A surprisingly bold statement on feminism, black identity, lesbian love, queerness, and transgender on-screen expression in a time when these queer representations were forbidden to be anything but the butt of an on-screen joke, smear, or some such deeply shameful thing.

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Starring:

Art Burke as the father, “Sven Anderson”

Christine Souder as the go-go daughter, “Angel”

Famed & highly influential world-class Blue Note jazz musician Jimmy Smith as the good-hearted character “Jimmy”

Lily Sabina/Albert Michael Weber as, “Michael Albert” & “Sabina”

Directed by Michael Miller

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“I’m in an unconscious reality I can’t transcend.”

– Lily Sabina as Michael Albert

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Well, I sincerely had no anticipation I would cry during this film, but here I am, wiping my tears. As I have written previously in this Oregon intersectional history now, Lily Sabina, Albert Michael Weber, names they went by both & simultaneously, is the first recorded trans advocate in the Oregon gay liberation movement and in Oregon’s history. In this 1975 grind-house flick first filmed in Oregon’s winter of 1972, and then released in 1975, we see Lily credited as Albert Michael Weber in the role of “Michael Albert”. The film’s character “Michael Albert”, however, is not just a play on their first birth name, but is played within this film’s story as themselves, mostly as they were in real-life, as Lily Sabina, or just “Sabina” (pronounced, ‘Suh-bine-uh”).

I had anticipated their role to be minor, perhaps even just a fleeting glimpse in La Mar’s downstairs go-go club in Eugene that much of the movie was filmed at. Rather, what I received as a precious gift instead, was their role as Michael Albert and Sabina being integral to the entire plot, as well as getting a glimpse into the kind of person that Lily Sabina was in life as a Eugene radical intellectual. Besides playing themselves in the film, the character Sabina makes mentions of happenings in Eugene occuring in 1971 historically & culturally, such as the local popularity of Wilhelm Reich’s work at Blake College where Lily Sabina held frequent & historically vital lectures on subjects relating to sociology & civil rights with the students of University of Oregon.

What most took me back, however, was the raw poignancy of Lily’s words & presence on screen. We first see them on screen, digging with a stick in a pile of snow covered dirt and debris of a freshly demolished building. The main character, ‘Sven Anderson’ of the film, a father looking for his daughter ‘Angel’, who is lost in drugs and the city nightlife of Eugene, is looking for a hotel when he asks Michael Albert (Sabina) for directions. Michael Albert explains that they are looking for neat bottles in the building debris, and tries to show the neat things they look at on them, but Sven isn’t interested in neat bottles.

Regardless, Michael Albert offers to help in some way, as this father character is seeking his daughter. As the film progresses through each characters initial exposition, we begin to see an interwoven web of drug dealers, pimps, prostitutes, and sort of like an outlying innocent weaving their way through it all is Michael Albert (Sabina), whom lives with their sister, who is also a prostitute in the film and dancer at the go-go bar. While in 1975 when this film was released, public perceptions surrounding trans people were abysmal, we are beginning to see some change through the very artistic expressionary trans & queer advocacy of Lily (Albert) Weber we see on screen in “Street Girls”, as part of the greater gay liberation cultural movement.

In the first scene that we catch a glimpse of Lily Sabina as herself, rather than playing the male on-screen character of Michael Albert we were first introduced to; the go-go bar owner & villian of this film, as he watches her with disgust as she walks by in a dress and blonde wig, saying to himself; “Fucking perverts, I hate them.” . . . In an extensive two page journalistic & photographic exposé on Lily Sabina (Albert Michael Weber), in the Oregon Daily Emerald, 2.9.1973, “The idea for his drag name, Sabina, was provided to Weber by a character in Thornton Wilder’s play, “How We Got Through The Ice Age And Everything Else By The Skin Of Our Teeth.” Weber says his Sabina comes in two versions: blond and brown. He was wearing the brown-wigged version this day. Weber sat through the two-hour interview fidgeting with himself: putting on make-up, applying lipstick, smearing cream over his face. He constantly re-adjusted his “breasts” — every so often they would slip down his chest some and he would twist and yank them back up. Images and appearances are important to Weber. “If people were open,” he explains, “they wouldn’t care what image is presented. I go over to the Fishbowl and everyone there is in drag of some sort.”

As the film progresses into the seedy underworld of 1972’s semi-fictionally portrayed Eugene, we watch as the go-go dancers and the “lost daughter” characters are steadily pulled into the devious machinations of the pimps & drug dealing men who run the basement go-go strip club, in real life named “La Mar’s downstairs go-go club”. Via a combination of ruthless tactics of manipulation, violence, sex and addiction, these on-screen villians push the lost daughter, named Angel, deeper into prostitution & heroin addiction, while hiding her from the father, the character Sven Anderson, as played by Art Burke.

While I don’t wish to spoil this historic & vital intersectional piece of Oregon & national film history for you, dear reader, I will say that Lily’s character plays the most important role throughout the film to the end for the father, Sven, to eventually discover his daughter’s whereabouts. I would dare to say, that this is the first film in history that places a transgender person in such a keystone role, and all without turning her into a typically 1970’s vicious on-screen stereotype . . . Lily becomes deeply & tragically humanized by the end of this film, an historic achievement in film & queer history that has gone largely unsung to this present day.

I’m not sure if the makers & primary cast of this film were aware of the history that they were engaged in then in 1972 & ’75 within these foundational intersections of trans rights & queer civil rights. I suppose none us of are ever truly & fully aware of the consequential nature of our actions as we are fulfilling them in the present moment; however, that of anyone exhibiting a striking level of self-awareness and determination of their historic presence in Oregon’s civil rights foundings then and as expressed in this film, I would say it would be Lily Sabina, Albert Michael Weber. Exhibiting strong indications of genius intellect throughout their life & in Eugene in the 20th century civil rights era, as recorded in Lily’s many academic lectures, artistic & right’s advocacy, but most especially for this neurodivergent, trans & queer researcher writer; those recorded and on-screen indications of Lily Sabina being a person strongly affected by neurodivergency in real-life. In their opening scenes of this film, Sabina is digging around looking for neat collectibles, and as they speak to Sven, show clear echolalia in their speech, (“repetition of words just spoken by another person…” Wiki.). This is a trait of autism & people with adhd, as well as other neurodivergent conditions, but, in the context of the fullness of the historic life of Lily Sabina, yet another layer of depth of the genuine nature of this beautiful and brave human in a time when seemingly all the things that constituted who Lily was . . . was considered taboo, not to be spoken of, shameful, wrong, sinful, et al.

At the end of the film, as the credits begin to roll over the still image of jazz legend Jimmy Smith, we begin to hear Lily’s voice once more, they say; “I really don’t know what to say about our mother and father, we’ve been, I’ve been trying to leave home for a longer time, and I’ve been trying to understand my sister just as long, uh, you might say that uh, gee, it’s uh, I’ve tried to tell my mother, but my mother just, uh, my father doesn’t know, and my mother just doesn’t understand, and nobody has understood us since about 3 or 4 I guess.” In the context of this film, it plays out like the last words of Michael Albert speaking about the events of the movie. However, in reality, this is Lily Sabina speaking her beautiful trans truth, about herself, and about how their family recieved that truth. Although I don’t know for certain, I believe this final audio of Sabina’s voice over the credits is in fact recording from her interview exposé with the Oregon Daily Emerald on February 9th, 1973, just over a year after filming began on “Street Girls”, where in that article Lily is quoted, “. . . How do his parents take all this? His mother “doesn’t understand” and his father doesn’t know.”

“One might imagine quite a struggle exploding within a personality claiming two such polarized identities. Not so, Weber insists. “All the conflicts are external, from society.” These conflicts, he says, are a result of society refusing to accept him for what he is, rather than what it wants him to be . . . Or it just might be that the truth can be understood in these words of a favorite poet of (Lily) Weber, poet Bertolt Becht: “Therefore, I beg you, check your wrath and scorn, for all creatures need help, from every creature born.”

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Creation Stories of the Renewal Peoples

This is merely a collection of 25 stories from our Dee-ni world concerning creation and the time before the great spirits passed dominion of this land onto us. I have included far away, transitionary cultural regions stories i.e. Karuk, Yurok, etc.; for this purpose we may see their perceptions of the Giver, as they do so in our special Dee-ni way, but also with the influences of those cultures even further south and east of themselves.

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Ya-she-wa Tututni-Dee-ni Creation Story: as told by Ki-sa Charlie DePoe, of T’cemetunne village –

In the beginning there was no land. There was nothing but the sky, some fog, and water. The water was still; there were no breakers. A sweat-house stood on the water, and in it there lived two men—The Giver and his companion. The Giver’s companion had tobacco. He usually stayed outside watching, while The Giver remained in the sweat-house.

One day it seemed to the watcher as if daylight were coming. He went inside and told The Giver that he saw something strange coming. Soon there appeared something that looked like land, and on it two trees were growing. The man kept on looking, and soon was able to distinguish that the object that was approaching was white land. Then the huge ocean began to move, bringing the land nearer. Its eastern portion was dark. The western part kept on moving until it struck the sweat-house, where it stopped. It began to stretch to the north and to the south. The land was white like snow. There was no grass on it. It expanded like the waves of the ocean. Then the fog began to disappear and the watcher could look far away.

He went into the sweat-house, and asked, “Giver, are you ready?” and The Giver said, “Is the land solid?”—“Not quite,” replied the man. Then The Giver took some tobacco and began to smoke. He blew the smoke on the land, and the land became motionless. Only two trees were growing at that time, redwood to the south, and ash to the north. Five times The Giver smoked, while discussing with his companion various means of creating the world and the people. Then night came, and after that daylight appeared again. Four days The Giver worked; and trees began to bud, and [buds] fell like drops of water upon the ground. Grass came up, and leaves appeared on the trees. The Giver walked around the piece of land that had stopped near his sweat-house, commanding the ocean to withdraw and to be calm.

Then The Giver made five cakes of mud. Of the first cake he made a stone and dropped it into the water, telling it to make a noise and to expand, as soon as it hit the bottom. After a long while he heard a faint noise and knew then that the water was very deep. He waited some time before dropping the second cake. This time he heard the noise sooner, and knew that the land was coming nearer to the surface. After he had dropped the third cake, the land reached almost to the surface of the water. So he went into the sweat-house and opened a new sack of tobacco. Soon his companion shouted from outside. “It looks as if breakers are coming!” The Giver was glad, because he knew now that the land was coming up from the bottom of the ocean. After the sixth wave the water receded, and The Giver scattered tobacco all over. Sand appeared. More breakers came in, receding farther and farther westward. Thus the land and the world were created. To the west, to the north, and to the south there was tide-water; to the east the land was dry. The new land was soft and looked like sand. The Giver stepped on it and said, “I am going to see if the great land has come”; and as he stepped, the land grew hard.

Then The Giver looked at the sand and saw a man’s tracks. They seemed to have come from the north, disappearing in the water on the south. He wondered what that could mean, and was very much worried. He went back to his first piece of land, and told the water to overflow the land he had created out of the five cakes of mud. Some time afterward he ordered the water to recede, and looked again. This time he saw the tracks coming from the west and returning to the water on the north side. He was puzzled and ordered the water to cover up his new land once more. Five times he repeated this process. At last he became discouraged and said, “This is going to make trouble in the future!” and since then there has always been trouble in the world. Then The Giver began to wonder how he could make people. First he took some grass, mixed it with mud, and rubbed it in his hands. Then he ordered a house to appear, gave the two mud figures to his companion, and told him to put them into the house. After four days two dogs—a male and a bitch—appeared. They watched the dogs, and twelve days later the bitch gave birth to pups. The Giver then made food for the dogs. All kinds of dogs were born in that litter of pups. They were all howling. After a while The Giver went to work again. He took some white sand from the new land, and made two figures in the same way as before. He gave the figures to his companion, and ordered a house for them. Then he warned the dogs not to go to the new house, as it was intended for the new people. After thirteen days The Giver heard a great hissing, and a big snake came out of the house, followed by a female snake and many small snakes. The Giver felt bad when he saw this and went to his companion, telling him that this trouble was due to the tracks that had first appeared in the world. Soon the land became full of snakes, which, not having seen The Giver, wondered how everything had come about. The world was inhabited by dogs and snakes only.

One day The Giver wished three baskets to appear, gave them to his companion, and told him to fill them partly with fresh water and partly with salt water. Then he put ten of the biggest snakes into the basket, crushed them, and threw them into the ocean. Two bad snakes got away from him; and all snake-like animals that live today come from these snakes. The Giver said to these two snakes, “You will live and surround the world like a belt, so that it won’t break!” Then he crushed five bad dogs in the same way, made a great ditch with his finger, and threw the dogs into the ditch. These dogs became water-monsters. All animals that raise their heads above the water and smell, and then disappear quickly under the water, came from these five dogs.

Pretty soon The Giver began to think again, “How can I make people? I have failed twice!” Now, for the first time his companion spoke. He said, “Let me smoke tonight, and see if people will not come out of the smoke.” For three days he smoked, at the end of which a house appeared with smoke coming out of it. The man told The Giver, “There is a house!” After a while a beautiful woman came out of the house, carrying a water-basket. Then The Giver was glad and said, “Now we shall have no more trouble creating people.” The woman did not see The Giver and his companion, as they were watching her. After nine days the woman became sad, and wondered who her father and relatives were. She had plenty of food.

One day The Giver said to his companion, “Stay here and take this woman for your wife! You shall have children and be the father of all the people. I am leaving this world. Everything on it shall belong to you.” And the man answered, “It is well; but, perchance, I too may have troubles.” Then The Giver asked him, “How are you going to be troubled?” So the man said, “Do you make this woman sleep, so that I can go to her without her seeing me.” The woman found life in the house very easy. Whenever she wished for anything, it appeared at once. About noon she felt sleepy for the first time. When night came, she prepared her bed and lay down. As soon as she was sound asleep, the man went in to her. She was not aware of this, but dreamed that a handsome man was with her. This was an entirely new dream to her. At daybreak she woke up and looked into the blanket. No one was there, although she was sure that someone had been with her. She wished to know who had been with her that night. So next evening she prepared her bed again, hoping that the same thing would happen; but no one came to her. She did the same thing every night without any one coming near her.

Soon the woman became pregnant. The Giver and his companion were still on the land, watching her; but she could not see them, because they were invisible to her. After a while the child was born. It was boy. He grew very fast. The young woman made a cradle for him. After six months the boy could talk. The woman still wanted to know who the father of her child was. So one day she wrapped the child in blankets, and said, “I will neglect the boy and let him cry, and, perchance, his father may come. I will go and look at the country.”

She started south, carrying the baby on her back. She traveled for ten years, seeing no one and never looking at the child. After a long time she could hear only a faint sound coming from behind. Nothing remained of the boy but skin and bones. Finally she stopped at Salomä [a camas prairie far up the Coquille River] and here for the first time she took the child from her back and looked at it. Its eyes were sunken and hollow; the boy was a mere skeleton. The woman felt bad and began to cry. She took the boy out of the cradle and went to the river to bathe. After she had put on her clothes, she felt of the child’s heart. It was still beating!

The boy urinated, and was dirty all over. His body was covered with maggots, and he had acquired various diseases. The woman took him to the water and washed his body. She had no milk with which to feed him; so she sang a medicine song, and milk came to her. She gave the breast to the child, but it was too weak to suck: hence she had to feed it gradually. As the days went by the boy grew stronger. After three days his eyes were better. Then they went back to their house, where they found plenty of food. The boy grew soon into a strong and handsome young man, and was helping his mother with her work. One day he asked her, “Mother, where is your husband?” and she replied, “I only dreamed of my husband.” Then she told him all that had happened before he was born; and the boy said, “Oh! Maybe my father may turn up some day.”

Then The Giver said to his companion, “The woman is home now.” That night the woman longed for her husband. She had been dreaming all the time that he was a handsome man that her boy looked just like him. At dusk it seemed to her as if someone were coming. Her heart began to beat. Soon she heard footsteps. The door opened, and her boy exclaimed, “Oh, my father has come!” She looked and saw the man in her dreams. At first she was ashamed and bashful. The man told her all that had happened before and claimed her as his wife.

One day The Giver told the man that all the world had been made for him. Then he instructed him how to act at all times and under all conditions. He also admonished him to have more children, and the man had sixteen children. The first one was a boy, then came a girl, then another boy, and so on. Half the children went to live north of the Rogue River, while the other half settled down south of the river. The Giver told the man that hereafter he would obtain everything by wishing. Then he straightened out the world, made it flat, and placed the waters. He created all sorts of animals, and cautioned the man not to cut down more trees or kill more animals than he needed. And after all this had been done, he bade him farewell and went up to the sky. “You and your wife and your children shall speak different languages. You shall be the progenitors of all the different tribes.”

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Karuk/Klamath Creation Story –

Many, many years ago there was a GOD named Eel-with -a-Swollen-Belly, who grew up at the downstream end of the world in the earliest days when the world was new. His mother lived at the upriver edge of the world. One day Eel decided that he wanted to return home to visit his mother. The path to his mother’s home took him along the river bed. As he traveled upstream he overturned rocks and piled them into shrines. At each one of these places where he put a shrine he knew that humans would eventually appear. “When the people appear these shrines will help them remember that I was here. And they will place a rock on the shrine to honor me.”

Eel traveled further up the Klamath River until he reached “The Center of the World”. When he reached this special place he decided to create a different shrine. He made two shrines, one on each side of the river. He said to himself,” The Center of the World will be filled with many people. They will need extra shrines to help them remember me.” Eel traveled on the way for many days; placing shrines along the Klamath River. The river flowed downriver from the beginning of the Klamanth River. One day Eel arrived at the “Inaam World Renewal Site”. After placing a shrine at Inaam he traveled further upstream . After many days he reach the upriver end of the world and his mother’s birthplace. After reaching his final destination he turned into the lamprey eel that we know today. Eel was once a man long ago. And that is how Eel-with-a-swollen -belly turned into lamprey eel a long, long time ago.

°•°•°•°

The Flood and the Theft of Fire Tolowa (Del Norte Co., Cal.) –

Along time ago there came a great rain. It lasted a long time and the water kept rising till all the valleys were submerged, and the Indian tribes fled to the high lands. But the water rose, and though the Indians fled to the highest point, all were swept away and drowned-all but one man and one woman. They reached the very highest peak and were saved. These two Indians ate the fish from the waters around them. Then the waters subsided. All the game was gone, and all the animals. But the children of these two Indians, when they died, became the spirits of deer and bear and insects, and so the animals and insects came back to the earth again. The Indians had no fire. The flood had put out all the fires in the world. They looked at the moon and wished they could secure fire from it.

Then the Spider Indians and the Snake Indians formed a plan to steal fire. The Spiders wove a very light balloon, and fastened it by a long rope to the earth. Then they climbed into the balloon and started for the moon. But the Indians of the Moon were suspicious of the Earth Indians. The Spiders said, “We came to gamble.” The Moon Indians were much pleased and all the Spider Indians began to gamble with them. They sat by the fire. Then the Snake Indians sent a man to climb up the long rope from the earth to the moon. He climbed the rope, and darted through the fire before the Moon Indians understood what he had done. Then he slid down the rope to earth again. As soon as he touched the earth he travelled over the rocks, the trees, and the dry sticks lying upon the ground, giving fire to each. Everything he touched contained fire. So the world became bright again, as it was before the flood. When the Spider Indians came down to earth again, they were immediately put to death, for the tribes were afraid the Moon Indians might want revenge.

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The Foxes and the Sun Yurok (near Klamath River, Cal.) –

Once upon a time, the Foxes were angry with Sun. They held a council about the matter. Then twelve Foxes were selected – twelve of the bravest to catch Sun and tie him down. They made ropes of sinew; then the twelve watched until the Sun, as he followed the downward trail in the sky, touched the top of a certain hill. Then the Foxes caught Sun, and tied him fast to the hill. But the Indians saw them, and they killed the Foxes with arrows. Then they cut the sinews. But the Sun had burned a great hole in the ground. The Indians know the story is true, because they can see the hole which Sun burned.

°•°•°

The Theft of Fire Karok (near Klamath River, Cal.) –

There was no fire on earth and the Karoks were cold and miserable. Far away to the east, hidden in a treasure box, was fire which Kareya had made and given to two old hags, lest the Karoks should steal it. So Coyote decided to steal fire for the Indians. Coyote called a great council of the animals. After the council he stationed a line from the land of the Karoks to the distant land where the fire was kept. Lion was nearest the Fire Land, and Frog was nearest the Karok land. Lion was strongest and Frog was weakest, and the other animals took their places, according to the power given them by Man. Then Coyote took an Indian with him and went to the hill top, but he hid the Indian under the hill. Coyote went to the tepee of the hags. He said, “Good-evening.” They replied, “Good-evening.” Coyote said, “It is cold out here. Can you let me sit by the fire?”

So they let him sit by the fire. He was only a coyote. He stretched his nose out along his forepaws and pretended to go to sleep, but he kept the corner of one eye open watching. So he spent all night watching and thinking, but he had no chance to get a piece of the fire. The next morning Coyote held a council with the Indian. He told him when he, Coyote, was within the tepee, to attack it. Then Coyote went back to the fire. The hags let him in again. He was only a Coyote. But Coyote stood close by the casket of fire. The Indian made a dash at the tepee. The hags rushed out after him, and Coyote seized a fire brand in his teeth and flew over the ground. The hags saw the sparks flying and gave chase. But Coyote reached Lion, who ran with it to Grizzly Bear. Grizzly Bear ran with it to Cinnamon Bear; he ran with it to Wolf, and at last the fire came to Ground- Squirrel. Squirrel took the brand and ran so fast that his tail caught fire. He curled it up over his back, and burned the black spot in his shoulders. You can see it even to-day. Squirrel came to Frog, but Frog couldn’t run. He opened his mouth wide and swallowed the fire. Then he jumped but the hags caught his tail. Frog jumped again, but the hags kept his tail. That is why Frogs have no tail, even to this day. Frog swam under water, and came up on a pile of driftwood. He spat out the fire into the dry wood, and that is why there is fire in dry wood even to-day. When an Indian rubs two pieces together, the fire comes out.

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How Old Man Above Created the World Shastika (Cal.) –

Long, long ago, when the world was so new that even the stars were dark, it was very, very flat. Chareya, Old Man Above, could not see through the dark to the new, flat earth. Neither could he step down to it because it was so far below him. With a large stone he bored a hole in the sky. Then through the hole he pushed down masses of ice and snow, until a great pyramid rose from the plain. Old Man Above climbed down through the hole he had made in the sky, stepping from cloud to cloud, until he could put his foot on top the mass of ice and snow. Then with one long step he reached the earth. The sun shone through the hole in the sky and began to melt the ice and snow. It made holes in the ice and snow. When it was soft, Chareya bored with his finger into the earth, here and there, and planted the first trees. Streams from the melting snow watered the new trees and made them grow.

Then he gathered the leaves which fell from the trees and blew upon them. They became birds. He took a stick and broke it into pieces. Out of the small end he made fishes and placed them in the mountain streams. Of the middle of the stick, he made all the animals except the grizzly bear. From the big end of the stick came the grizzly bear, who was made master of all. Grizzly was large and strong and cunning. When the earth was new he walked upon two feet and carried a large club. So strong was Grizzly that Old Man Above feared the creature he had made. Therefore, so that he might be safe, Chareya hollowed out the pyramid of ice and snow as a tepee. There he lived for thousands of snows. The Indians knew he lived there because they could see the smoke curling from the smoke hole of his tepee. When the pale-face came, Old Man Above went away. There is no longer any smoke from the smoke hole. White men call the tepee Mount Shasta.

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The Fable of the Animals, Karok, (near Klamath River,. Cal.) –

A great many hundred snows ago, Kareya, sitting on the Sacred Stool, created the world. First, he made the fishes in the Big Water, then the animals on the green land, and last of all, Man! But at first the animals were all alike in power. No one knew which animals should be food for others, and which should be food for man. Then Kareya ordered them all to meet in one place, that Man might give each his rank and his power. So the animals all met together one evening, when the sun was set, to wait overnight for the coming of Man on the next morning. Kareya also commanded Man to make bows and arrows, as many as there were animals, and to give the longest one to the animal which was to have the most power, and the shortest to the one which should have least power. So he did, and after nine sleeps his work was ended, and the bows and arrows which he had made were very many. Now the animals, being all together, went to sleep, so they might be ready to meet Man on the next morning. But Coyote was exceedingly cunning – he was cunning above all the beasts. Coyote wanted the longest bow and the greatest power, so he could have all the other animals for his meat.

He decided to stay awake all night, so that he would be first to meet Man in the morning. So he laughed to himself and stretched his nose out on his paw and pretended to sleep. About midnight he began to be sleepy. He had to walk around the camp and scratch his eyes to keep them open. He grew more sleepy, so that he had to skip and jump about to keep awake. But he made so much noise, he awakened some of the other animals. When the morning star came up, he was too sleepy to keep his eyes open any longer. So he took two little sticks, and sharpened them at the ends, and propped open his eyelids. Then he felt safe. He watched the morning star, with his nose stretched along his paws, and fell asleep. The sharp sticks pinned his eyelids fast together. The morning star rose rapidly into the sky. The birds began to sing. The animals woke up and stretched themselves, but still Coyote lay fast asleep. When the sun rose, the animals went to meet Man. He gave the longest bow to Cougar, so he had greatest power; the second longest he gave to Bear; others he gave to the other animals, giving all but the last to Frog. But the shortest one was left. Man cried out, “What animal have I missed?” Then the animals began to look about and found Coyote fast asleep, with his eyelids pinned together. All the animals began to laugh, and they jumped upon Coyote and danced upon him. Then they led him to Man, still blinded, and Man pulled out the sharp sticks and gave him the shortest bow of all. It would hardly shoot an arrow farther than a foot. All the animals laughed. But Man took pity on Coyote, because he was now weaker even than Frog. So at his request, Kareya gave him cunning, ten times more than before, so that he was cunning above all the animals of the wood. Therefore Coyote was friendly to Man and his children, and did many things for them

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Legend of the Flood in Sacramento Valley, Maidu, (near Sacramento Valley, Cal.) –

Long, long ago the Indians living in Sacramento Valley were happy. Suddenly there came the swift sound of rushing waters, and the valley became like Big Waters, which no man can measure. The Indians fled, but many slept beneath the waves. Also the frogs and the salmon pursued them and they ate many Indians. Only two who fled into the foothills escaped. To these two, Great Man gave many children, and many tribes arose. But one great chief ruled all the nation. The chief went out upon a wide knoll overlooking Big Waters, and he knew that the plains of his people were beneath the waves. Nine sleeps he lay on the knoll, thinking thoughts of these great waters. Nine sleeps he lay without food, and his mind was thinking always of one thing: How did this deep water cover the plains of the world? At the end of nine sleeps he was changed. He was not like himself. No arrow could wound him. He was like Great Man for no Indian could slay him. Then he spoke to Great Man and commanded him to banish the waters from the plains of his ancestors. Great Man tore a hole in the mountain side, so that the waters on the plains flowed into Big Waters. Thus the Sacramento River was formed.

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Legend of the Flood, Ashochimi/Wappo, (Coast Indians, Cal.) –

Long ago there was a great flood which destroyed all the people in the world. Only Coyote was saved. When the waters subsided, the earth was empty. Coyote thought about it a long time. Then Coyote collected a great bundle of tail feathers from owls, hawks, eagles, and buzzards. He journeyed over the whole earth and carefully located the site of each Indian village. Where the tepees had stood, he planted a feather in the ground and scraped up the dirt around it. The feathers sprouted like trees, and grew up and branched. At last they turned into men and women. So the world was inhabited with people again.

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Old Man Above and the Grizzlies, Shastika, (Cal.) –

Along time ago, while smoke still curled from the smoke hole of the tepee (Mt. Shasta) a great storm arose. The storm shook the tepee. Wind blew the smoke down the smoke hole. Old Man Above said to Little Daughter: “Climb up to the smoke hole. Tell Wind to be quiet. Stick your arm out of the smoke hole before you tell him.” Little Daughter climbed up to the smoke hole and put out her arm. But Little Daughter put out her head also. She wanted to see the world. Little Daughter wanted to see the rivers and trees, and the white foam on the Bitter Waters. Wind caught Little Daughter by the hair. Wind pulled her out of the smoke hole and blew her down the mountain. Wind blew Little Daughter over the smooth ice and the great forests, down to the land of the Grizzlies. Wind tangled her hair and then left her cold and shivering near the tepees of the Grizzlies. Soon Grizzly came home. In those days Grizzly walked on two feet, and carried a big stick. Grizzly could talk as people do. Grizzly laid down the young elk he had killed and picked up Little Daughter. He took Little Daughter to his tepee.

Then Mother Grizzly warmed her by the fire. Mother Grizzly gave her food to eat. Soon Little Daughter married the son of Grizzly. Their children were not Grizzlies. They were men. So the Grizzlies built a tepee for Little Daughter and her children. White men call the tepee Little Shasta. At last Mother Grizzly sent a son to Old Man Above. Mother Grizzly knew that Little Daughter was the child of Old Man Above, but she was afraid. She said: “Tell Old Man Above that Little Daughter is alive.” Old Man Above climbed out of the smoke hole. He ran down the mountain side to the land of the Grizzlies. Old Man Above ran very quickly. Wherever he set his foot the snow melted. The snow melted very quickly and made streams of water. Now Grizzlies stood in line to welcome Old Man Above. They stood on two feet and carried clubs. Then Old Man Above saw his daughter and her children. He saw the new race of men. Then Old Man Above became very angry. He said to Grizzlies: “Never speak again. Be silent. Neither shall ye stand upright. Ye shall use your hands as feet. Ye shall look downward.” Then Old Man Above put out the fire in the tepee. Smoke no longer curls from the smoke hole. He fastened the door of the tepee. The new race of men he drove out. Then Old Man Above took Little Daughter back to his tepee. That is why grizzlies walk on four feet and look downward. Only when fighting they stand on two feet and use their fists like men.

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Creation of Man, Miwok, (San Joaquin Valley, Cal.) –

After Coyote had completed making the world, he began to think about creating man. He called a council of all the animals. The animals sat in a circle, just as the Indians do, with Lion at the head, in an open space in the forest. On Lion’s right was Grizzly Bear; next Cinnamon Bear; and so on to Mouse, who sat at Lion’s left. Lion spoke first. Lion said he wished man to have a terrible voice, like himself, so that he could frighten all animals. He wanted man also to be well covered with hair, with fangs in his claws, and very strong teeth. Grizzly Bear laughed. He said it was ridiculous for any one to have such a voice as Lion, because when he roared he frightened away the very prey for which he was searching. But he said man should have very great strength; that he should move silently, but very swiftly; and he should be able to seize his prey without noise. Buck said man would look foolish without antlers. And a terrible voice was absurd, but man should have ears like a spider’s web, and eyes like fire. Mountain Sheep said the branching antlers would bother man if he got caught in a thicket. If man had horns rolled up, so that they were like a stone on each side of his head, it would give his head weight enough to butt very hard. When it came Coyote’s turn, he said the other animals were foolish because they each wanted man to be just like themselves.

Coyote was sure he could make a man who would look better than Coyote himself, or any other animal. Of course he would have to have four legs, with five fingers. Man should have a strong voice, but he need not roar all the time with it. And he should have feet nearly like Grizzly Bear’s, because he could then stand erect when he needed to. Grizzly Bear had no tail, and man should not have any. The eyes and ears of Buck were good, and perhaps man should have those. Then there was Fish, which had no hair, and hair was a burden much of the year. So Coyote thought man should not wear fur. And his claws should be as long as the Eagle’s, so that he could hold things in them. But no animal was as cunning and crafty as Coyote, so man should have the wit of Coyote. Then Beaver talked. Beaver said man would have to have a tail, but it should be broad and flat, so he could haul mud and sand on it. Not a furry tail, because they were troublesome on account of fleas. Owl said man would be useless without wings. But Mole said wings would be folly. Man would be sure to bump against the sky. Besides, if he had wings and eyes both, he would get his eyes burned out by flying too near the sun. But without eyes, he could burrow in the soft, cool earth where he could be happy. Mouse said man needed eyes so he could see what he was eating. And nobody wanted to burrow in the damp earth. So the council broke up in a quarrel. Then every animal set to work to make a man according to his own ideas. Each one took a lump of earth and modelled it just like himself. All but Coyote, for Coyote began to make the kind of man he had talked of in the council. It was late when the animals stopped work and fell asleep. All but Coyote, for Coyote was the cunningest of all the animals, and he stayed awake until he had finished his model. He worked hard all night. When the other animals were fast asleep he threw water on the lumps of earth, and so spoiled the models of the other animals. But in the morning he finished his own, and gave it life long before the others could finish theirs. Thus man was made by Coyote.

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Thunder and Lightning, Maidu, (near Sacramento Valley, Cal.)-

Great-Man created the world and all the people. At first the earth was very hot, so hot it was melted, and that is why even to-day there is fire in the trunk and branches of trees, and in the stones. Lightning is Great-Man himself coming down swiftly from his world above, and tearing apart the trees with his flaming arm. Thunder and Lightning are two great spirits who try to destroy mankind. But Rainbow is a good spirit who speaks gently to them, and persuades them to let the Indians live a little longer.

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Pokoh, the Old Man Pai Ute, Paiute, (near Kern River, Cal.) –

Pokoh, Old Man, they say, created the world. Pokoh had many thoughts. He had many blankets in which he carried around gifts for men. He created every tribe out of the soil where they used to live. That is why an Indian wants to live and die in his native place. He was made of the same soil. Pokoh did not wish men to wander and travel, but to remain in their birthplace. Long ago, Sun was a man, and was bad. Moon was good. Sun had a quiver full of arrows, and they are deadly. Sun wishes to kill all things. Sun has two daughters (Venus and Mercury) and twenty men kill them; but after fifty days, they return to life again. Rainbow is the sister of Pokoh, and her breast is covered with flowers. Lightning strikes the ground and fills the flint with fire. That is the origin of fire. Some say the beaver brought fire from the east, hauling it on his broad, flat tail. That is why the beaver’s tail has no hair on it, even to this day. It was burned off. There are many worlds. Some have passed and some are still to come. In one world the Indians all creep; in another they all walk; in another they all fly. Perhaps in a world to come, Indians may walk on four legs; or they may crawl like snakes; or they may swim in the water like fish.

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Origin of Light, Gallinomero / Pomo, (Russian River, Cal.) –

In the earliest beginning, the darkness was thick and deep. There was no light. The animals ran here and there, always bumping into each other. The birds flew here and there, but continually knocked against each other. Hawk and Coyote thought a long time about the darkness. Then Coyote felt his way into a swamp and found a large number of dry tule reeds. He made a ball of them. He gave the ball to Hawk, with some flints, and Hawk flew up into the sky, where he touched off the tule reeds and sent the bundle whirling around the world. But still the nights were dark, so Coyote made another bundle of tule reeds, and Hawk flew into the air with them, and touched them off with the flints. But these reeds were damp and did not burn so well. That is why the moon does not give so much light as the sun.

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Old Mole’s Creation, Shastika, ( N. Cal.) –

Long, long ago, before there was any earth, Old Mole burrowed underneath Somewhere, and threw up the earth which forms the world. Then Great Man created the people. But the Indians were cold. Now in the cast gleamed the white Fire Stone. Therefore Coyote journeyed eastward, and brought back the Fire Stone for the Indians. So people had fire. In the beginning, Sun had nine brothers, all flaming hot like himself. But Coyote killed the nine brothers and so saved the world from burning up. But Moon also had nine brothers all made of ice, like himself, and the Night People almost froze to death. Therefore Coyote went away out on the eastern edge of the world with his flint-stone knife. He heated stones to keep his hands warm, and as the Moons arose, he killed one after another with his flint-stone knife, until he had slain nine of them. Thus the people were saved from freezing at night. When it rains, some Indian, sick in heaven, is weeping. Long, long ago, there was a good young Indian on earth. When he died the Indians wept so that a flood came upon the earth, and drowned all people except one couple.

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Creation and Longevity, Achomawi, (Pit River, Cal.) –

Coyote began the creation of the earth, but Eagle completed it. Coyote scratched it up with his paws out of nothingness, but Eagle complained there were no mountains for him to perch on. So Coyote made hills, but they were not high enough. Therefore Eagle scratched up great ridges. When Eagle flew over them, his feathers dropped down, took root, and became trees. The pin feathers became bushes and plants. Coyote and Fox together created man. They quarreled as to whether they should let men live always or not. Coyote said, “If they want to die, let them die.” Fox said, “If they want to come back, let them come back.” But Coyote’s medicine was stronger, and nobody ever came back. Coyote also brought fire into the world, for the Indians were freezing. He journeyed far to the west, to a place where there was fire, stole some of it, and brought it home in his ears. He kindled a fire in the mountains, and the Indians saw the smoke of it, and went up and got fire.

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California Big Trees, Pai Utes / Paiute, (near Kern River, Cal.) –

The California big trees are sacred to the Monos, who call them “woh-woh-nau,” a word formed in imitation of the hoot of the owl. The owl is the guardian spirit and the god of the big trees. Bad luck comes to those who cut down the big trees, or shoot at an owl, or shoot in the presence of the owl. In old days the Indians tried to persuade the white men not to cut down the big trees. When they see the trees cut down they call after the white men. They say the owl will bring them evil.

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Origin of Clear Lake, Patwin, (Sacramento Valley, Cal.) –

Before anything was created at all, Old Frog and Old Badger lived alone together. Old Badger wanted to drink, so Old Frog gnawed into a tree, drew out all the sap and put it in a hollow place. Then he created Little Frogs to help him, and working together they dug out the lake. Then Old Frog made the little flat whitefish. Some of them lived in the lake, but others swam down Cache Creek, and turned into the salmon, pike, and sturgeon which swim in the Sacramento.

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The Great Fire, Patwin, (Sacramento Valley, Cal.) –

Long ago a man loved two women and wished to marry both of them. But the women were magpies and they laughed at him. Therefore the man went to the north, and made for himself a tule boat. Then he set the world on fire, and himself escaped to sea in his boat. But the fire burned with terrible speed. It ate its way into the south. It licked up all things on earth, men, trees, rocks, animals, water, and even the ground itself. Now Old Coyote saw the burning and the smoke from his place far in the south, and he ran with all his might to put it out. He put two little boys in a sack and ran north like the wind. He took honey-dew into his mouth, chewed it up, spat on the fire, and so put it out. Now the fire was out, but there was no water and Coyote was thirsty. So he took Indian sugar again, chewed it up, dug a hole in the bottom of the creek, covered up the sugar in it, and it turned to water and filled the creek. So the earth had water again. But the two little boys cried because they were lonesome, for there was nobody left on earth. Then Coyote made a sweat house, and split a number of sticks, and laid them in the sweat house over night. In the morning they had all turned into men and women.

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The Spirit Land, Gallinomero, (Russian River, Cal.) –

When the flames burn low on the funeral pyres of the Gallinomero, Indian mourners gather up handfuls of ashes and scatter them high in air. Thus the good mount up into the air, or go to the Happy Western Land beyond the Big Water. But the bad Indians go to an island in the Bitter Waters, an island naked and barren and desolate, covered only with brine-spattered stone, swept with cold winds and the biting sea-spray. Here they live always, breaking stone upon one another, with no food but the broken stones and no drink but the salt sea water.

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Song of the Ghost Dance, Pai Ute, Paiute, (Kern River, Cal.) –

The snow lies there – ro-rani!
The snow lies there – ro-rani!
The snow lies there – ro-rani!
The snow lies there – ro-rani!
The Milky Way lies there.
The Milky Way lies there.

“This is one of the favorite songs of the Paiute Ghost dance. . . . It must be remembered that the dance is held in the open air at night, with the stars shining down on the wide-extending plain walled in by the giant Sierras, fringed at the base with dark pines, and with their peaks white with eternal snows. Under such circumstances this song of the snow lying white upon the mountains, and the Milky Way stretching across the clear sky, brings up to the Paiute the same patriotic home love that comes from lyrics of singing birds and leafy trees and still waters to the people of more favored regions. . . . The Milky Way is the road of the dead to the spirit world.”

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The Mountain with A Hole in the Top, Cow Creek Umpqua, OR. –

A Cow Creek Legend – Ellen Furlong Crispen, an Umpqua descendant, told local historian W. K. Peery this story of Crater Lake.

“A long, long time ago, animal-people and man-people spoke the same language. These earth-people lived in the land of the Umpquas, whose home was on the bank of a river where there were many fish. They lived in the shadow of a great mountain. In the long ago time, that mountain was high and forever the top was covered with snow. Below that snow there were trees. There were meadows where the grass grew high and young animal-people played in the sun.

On this mountain lived the bear, the deer, the panther and the elk, with animal cousins and friends who came there and had much talk. The man-people, they came. They talked with the animal-people. All were friends, those people.

An evil chief grew up among the man-people. He said he was greater than Old Man God, who was Chief of the World. He said the people should obey him. He put bad thoughts in the minds the man-people. They began to kill the animal-people. The animal-people were scared. They were saddened. Why did their friends do these things to them?

They talked to their Tamanous (Great Spirit), those animal-people. They said their friends were killing them. If they were all killed, Tamanous would have few people left to rule. It would be the end of the world. They said that.

Old Man God was worried. That wicked chief was leading the people away from his counsel. That chief had a bad tongue. He told the man-people that Tamanous was a selfish god because Tamanous said it was wrong to kill the animal-people. He told the people these things, that bad chief.

Shyum, the bear, was chief of the animal-people. He had an honest tongue and spoke good words. His people loved him. He called all the animal-people together to the council house on the side of the mountain. When they talked about the troubles of the animal-people, they said, “We will call Tamanous. He will give us good council. He will tell us what to do.”

Shyum said to Eagle, “You go tell Tamanous we need him to talk to us. Ask him to meet us in the council house.”

Eagle went.

Eagle told Old Man God that man-chief wanted to betray Bear. That chief wanted to steal Bear’s power and make him a slave. Then all the animal-people would become slaves of the man-people. These things Eagle told Tamanous when Tamanous asked Eagle why he came to that place.

Tamanous told Eagle, “You tell Shyum to have all the animal-people come to the council house when the moon is high. I will come to them at that time.”

Eagle went to Bear. He told Bear what Tamanous had said. When the moon was straight up, the animal-people gathered in the council house. Tamanous kept his promise. He came. He told the animal-people to leave, but they were afraid to go. They knew no place to go. They did not know what to do, those sad people. They were afraid not to obey Tamanous. Their minds were not quiet.

Bear went to sleep for two moons. He woke up. On the first day he told the birds to leave. On the third day he told all the other animals to obey Tamanous.

Crawfish could not go. He cried. He said, ‘I will dig a hole. I will stay here.”

Eagle said, “No, you cannot stay here.”

Crawfish said, “How can I go?”

Eagle said, “Hang onto my foot.”

Crawfish got ready to go. Wildcat came. He saw Crawfish was happy. He saw Crawfish was going to leave.

Wildcat said, “Where are you going?”

Crawfish said, “I am going with Eagle. I will hang onto his foot.”

Wildcat said, “No, you cannot go on Eagle’s foot. I am going to eat you.”

Eagle heard this. He flew down and took Wildcat’s ears in his talons. He ripped them. Wildcat screamed. His ears hurt. He backed away and spit. After that, all cat-animals had tufted ears. All cat-animals walked backward and spit.

Wildcat nursed those ears that were sore. He watched Eagle fly away with Crawfish. He went to Bear, that Wildcat. He said he was going to tell the man-chief that Bear was sending all the animal-people away. He said Tamanous told Bear to do that.

Man-chief was mad. He send a runner to tell Bear to come to his lodge. Then the man-chief waited. All that time, Wildcat was lazy by the fire. He had a pretty bushy tail. He waved it back and forth and watched it from the side of his eye. He was vain, that person.

Wildcat thought, “Now man-chief will kill Bear. Wildcat will be chief of the animal-people.”

That runner came back. He was scared. No Bear. No Eagle. No Wolf. No little animal-people. No fish. No birds. They had all gone away. The runner told that man-chief those things. Man-chief was mad. He went outside to do his war chant. He raised his arms and told Tamanous he had to come to his lodge. He told Tamanous that thing, that man-person.

Wildcat wanted that man-chief to look at him. He waved his tail and grinned, that cat.

Man-chief looked at Wildcat. He said, “You leave this place. I do not like you.”

Wildcat would not go. He bent his back and walked backward. He spat. Man-chief picked up that Wildcat. He held Wildcat over the fire until his tail was burned off close to his back.

Man-chief said, “There, Wildcats will have no tails.”

The Great Tamanous came on a big wind. He looked at Wildcat. He asked the chief of the man-people what he had done to Wildcat’s tail.

Man-chief said, “I burned it off. I do not like him. He wants to be chief.”

Tamanous said, “You have hurt the only person that liked you. Wildcat was your friend. Now you must go to the slimy pool.”

Man-chief said, “No, I will stay here.”

Then a great wind came from the top of that mountain. The man-people had to lay flat on the ground. Trees fell and pulled their roots from the earth. Man-people could not breathe that hot wind. They called for rain.

Tamanous said, “There will be no rain.”

When Old Man God went away, the people looked up. Black smoke rolled high over the mountain top. The top of that mountain vomited fire. The mountain flew high in the air. Then it sat down on the earth and a sound like thunder shook everything.

Now the mountain had no top. There was a big hole in that top. A long time this hole filled up with water that grew deep, deep. The man-people were all dead. Their bodies were gone. Their spirits walked over rough rocks.

Tamanous said, “I will put the souls of the man-people in that big water hole on the top of the mountain. They will stay there forever. Their lodges will be in the bottom of that hole.”

He put the chief of the man-people in that hole. He changed him to a woman to shame that chief. He became a witch.

The dead people live in that lake. They are evil people. They were destroyed because they were like that.

Bear came back. He called all the animal-people to come back. They came, the big animals with the little animals, the fish and the birds. All came back.

Bear was not happy. His people were not happy. Bear said to the Great Spirit, “Send us the man-people. We are lonesome. We want to talk with them.”

Tamanous said, “I will send you man-people, but you cannot talk to them. Man-people and animal-people will never speak the same language again.”

Tamanous put man-people on the earth. They were Indians, those people. Old Man God told them never to go on the mountain with a hole in the top. He said bad medicine was there. The Umpquas and their friends, the Calapooias, the Klamaths, they do not go near that hole. They are afraid.

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Klamath Monster
“SKA´MDI”

“A man and a boy were going to Klamath Marsh afoot. The boy was six or seven. The man wanted to try swimming in Ska´mdi. He told the boy, “If those things bite and kill me, you go home.” The man had lost his wife; the boy alone was left. “I do not want to stay here; I want to die,” the man said. The boy cried to him not to swim there. He walked back from the river bank, ran and plunged in. Big animals reached up and bit him. They came up twice; then he appeared no more. The boy saw it and wept. He started home; it took all night for him to reach Bezükse´, below Chiloquin. At Ska´mdi the water boils and cannot move down river. No one can swim there; something always bites and kills them.”
(Ramsey 1977:212-13)

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Klamath Falls, Oregon
February 25, 2002

By BARBARA ALATORRE

One day, Great Spirit Beings pushed ice through a hole in the sky to build a great mountain, Moyaina (Mount Mazama). Then the spirits climbed down to Earth and created the Klamath terrain by digging tunnel-like caverns beneath the earth and pushing up the Cascade Range. Hundreds of rivers, marshes and lakes emerged from underground, and trees, meadows and plants sprang up everywhere.

All of the Spirits returned to the Nolis-Gaeni, the afterworld, except the Spirit chief Gmo’Kamc, who made a new home inside Mlaiksi (Mount Shasta). Gmo’Kamc created human beings to live on the lake shores around him: the Klamath Lake People, the Modoc Lake People (Modoc Lake is now called Tule Lake), and Yahooskni People on the water now known as Goose Lake.

Chief of the Below World, Monadalkni, envied Gmo’Kamc’s beautiful Indian domain and return many times to watch the Ma’Klaks. One day he spied an extraordinary maiden surrounded by brave warriors who wanted to marry her. Loha was the daughter of the Klamath chief, and she refused to marry anyone. Still, Monadalkni dispatched Skooks, his trusted emissary, to propose on his behalf.

On the night of the MaKlaks coming-out ceremony, Skooks suddenly appeared, hooded in dark wolf skin. Interrupting a ceremonial dance, he stepped before Loha and her family bearing lavish gifts: beaver pelts, valuable feathers of the red woodpecker, horses and white deerskins.
“My Chief sends these offerings for your hand in everlasting marriage,” he said. “Eternal life will be yours as you become one and live in a big mountain abode forever.”

As Skooks’ hideous crimson red eyes gaped at the maiden, the Ma’Klaks of the village watched her other suitors disappear in a flash of orange light. Loha raced to her father’s tule lodge crying out, “No, I don’t want to live in a mountain!” The Klamath chief quickly called elders and medicine men to council in his lodge. They decided that Loha must be whisked away to their Modoc brothers to the south.

Skooks returned the next night demanding Loha’s whereabouts, but no one in the tribe would speak. When Monadalkni learned of the maiden’s disappearance, he shook with violent anger and threatened fiery vengeance on Loha’s people. Monadalkni began running back and forth in the passageways beneath Moy-yaina, throwing lightning bolts and causing the mountain to explode with such force that molten lava rained like hot pitch upon the People of the Lakes. Giant fireballs shot out of the mountain as it erupted in deafening booms — five times in succession! Women and children took refuge in Klamath Lake, crying and calling out for the Great Spirit to save them.

Monadalkni ran to the top of the mountain and faced Gmo’Kamc. They fought enraged, silhouetted against the red glow illuminating the rumbling Cascades. The good chief finally forced the Chief of the Below World back underground and collapsed the mountaintop onto the entrance of the underworld. A huge crater remained where the peak used to be.

Medicine men sang their sacred songs for rain to put out the fires. The rains came, filling the crater with water and creating the lake called Gii-was. Cradled in the bosom of Tum-sum-ne (Klamath/Modoc for “the big mountain with top cut off”), Gii-was became a holy place the Ma’Klaks kept secret for more than 7,000 years, until one day in 1852 when a white man accidentally discovered it.

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How Giiwas (Crater Lake) Came To Be

By Barbara Alatorre, Klamath Tribal Member and Historian

[Also online at http://www.klamathtribes.org/crater_lake.htm%5D

The story of Crater Lake’s origin has been handed down through thousands of generations by ancient Indian legends of the Modoc and Klamath Tribes. [1]

Before time began, giant Spirit Beings came down to earth through a hole in the sky, pushing ice down to build giant mountains. The first mountain built was Moy Yaina (Big Mountain — where Mt. Mazama now stands).The Spirit Beings created the rest of the Klamath terrain by digging tunnel-like caverns beneath the earth, pushing up the hills and mountains forming the Cascade Range. They dug the channels for rivers: created the marshes, and hundreds of springs bubbled up from underground. Giant trees, meadows and plants sprung up everywhere.

Upon completion all of the Spirits returned to the after-world (called Nolis-Gaeni), where others may not go until after death. Only the Spirit Chief, gmok’am’c (the Creator), remained behind to create the people (maqlaqs). Gmok’am’c (Creator) made his home inside Mt. Shasta (Mlaiksi) at the southern end of the maqlaqs ‘ country. From his spirit bag, gmok’am’c selected two bones as he soared over to what is now Klamath Lake where he laid the bones over one another — (giving birth to the Klamaths). Two bones were crossed near Modockni Lake known today as Tule Lake (home of the Modocs). Finally near Goose Lake, bones were laid together (to become progenitors of the Yahooskin and Wal-pah-pe people).

Upon arising the next day, gmok’am’c looked around and saw the smoke rising where he had created the tribes of the people. Feeling content, he proclaimed: “May you live well on the lands created for you, my people.” [2] He then watched over his people from his home and attended to matters of great importance — protecting the people and sacred mountains which surrounded the Klamath Basin.

From time to time, Monadalkni the Spirit Chief of the below-world would become curious and sneak up to watch the maqlaqs living in their beautiful domain. One day he observed a maiden of exceptional beauty. Many brave warriors sought her hand in marriage, but Loha was the daughter of the Klamath Chief and refused to marry anyone. The underworld chief Monadalkni dispatched his most trusted emissary Skooks with the most luxurious gifts to be found in those ancient days to propose marriage on his behalf.

During the night of the Klamaths’ coming-out ceremony Skooks suddenly appeared, interrupting a ceremonial dance. Hooded in a dark wolf skin, he stepped before Loha and her family bearing his astonishing gifts. “My Chief sends these offerings for your hand in marriage,” he said. “Eternal life will be yours as you and he become one and live in the big mountain Moy-Yaina.” As Skooks’ crimson red eyes gazed at her, Loha’s other suitors disappeared in a huge flash of orange light.

Loha backed away in fear and said, “No! I don’t want to live in a mountain.” Skooks and his entourage disappeared as fast as they had come. The Klamath Chief called the elders and Medicine Men to council in his tule lodge and they decided to send Loha into the forest to hide. Monadalkni, upon learning the outcome of his marriage proposal, ordered Skooks back to the village Chief to demand the whereabouts of the maiden, threatening revenge upon the people and destruction of their land if she was not brought to him. Fear stricken but loyal, no one in the village would speak. Hearing of their silence, Monadalkni shook like thunder and stormed off in a violent rage, running back and forth in the passageways beneath Moy-Yaina, throwing lightning bolts as he went, causing Moy-Yaina to explode with such great force the top of the mountain blew off. [3] Giant fireballs shot out toward the land of the maqlaqs, exploding deafening booms five times in rapid succession. Spewing fire from his mouth, the evil Chief ran to the top of the caldera to survey the destruction as fire and lava devoured the beautiful forests and lay waste to the villages of the people. Fleeing in terror for their lives, the people took refuge in Klamath Lake, crying and praying for the Good Spirit Chief gmok’am’c to save them. As lava rained down on the people like hot pitch, gmok’am’c, standing on Mt. Shasta, heard two of the eldest Medicine Men of the tribe volunteer to sacrifice themselves, believing only a sacrifice would stop the Chief of the below-world’s vengeance. “We elders with not many moons to live should be the ones to follow our torches into the great fire to calm the wrath upon our people.”

As the people watched, the two oldest and most respected Medicine Men waded out of Klamath Lake’s waters, lit their torches and began their courageous trek toward Yanalti, the high ridges surrounding the crater of the volcano. When gmok’am’c saw the elders’ unselfish and brave deed, he flew over them to face Monadalkni in battle and save his people. The two Spirit Chiefs fought, enraged, silhouetted against the red glow rumbling along the Cascades. The mountains shook and the earth trembled until finally, the good Chief forced Monadalkni back underground and collapsed volcanic debris down on the entrance to the underworld, creating a giant crater where the mountain top used to be. No longer Moy-Yaina (Big Mountain), the Indians renamed the mountain Tum-sum-ne (mountain with top cut off).

Medicine Men sang their sacred songs in thanks for the victory as the rains came filling the empty crater with water, and the lake became known as giiwas (a most sacred place), a holy place to the Indians who kept the area secret from outsiders for over 7,000 years.

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Huu-cha~’ xuu-naa xatlh-xat-le’.

“What about my hat, Sister?”

This is a poem of sorts, telling a true story of a DePoe indian boy’s catholic boarding school experience that frankly is too difficult and personal for me to write out as a straightforward story. Someday I will tell it, when it’s right. For now, this is my way of processing this, as is much of my art my way of reconciling a generationally traumatic past.

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There was once a little indian boy,
Black hair shorn short,
Greased back save for a defiant cowlick,
Evening mass at boarding school,
On a freezing blizzard Dakotan night,
What about my hat, Sister,
What about my gloves, Sister,
A stern rebuke for reverance of a brutal god,
No mercy for indian boys,
The ice laden wind whipped a wretched roar,
A cackle of cold heartless brutality,
A threshold between the monster and death,
A reverant Sister dressed in black,
There was once a little indian boy,
Freezing in the night,
What about my hat, Sister,
What about my gloves, Sister,
Gone into the mist,
A heavy door slams as hard as the felling axe,
Little footprints in the midnight snow,
Wiped clean and forgotten,
White like preachers sheets,
Whipping in the frozen dark,
What about my hat, Sister,
What about my gloves, Sister,
Fingers frozen to the bone,
Face frost bitten,
Lungs cold burned,
There once was a little indian boy,
Lost in the stinging ice,
Sent to die by Sister Mary,
Colder than the midnight prairie,
Black hills holler down lodgepole pines,
Now a dream of bitter death,
What old dying songs,
Uttered on chittering child’s teeth,
Heard round blazing fires,
Of his time on summer rivers,
A little indian boy sent to die,
Dreams of brother, father, mother,
What about my hat, Sister,
What about my gloves, Sister.

“How to Tame the Tiger When You’re Indian”

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All it takes to tame a tiger, is a tone of terrible truth,

Through teeth & claw my words bite hard, a consequence of manner,

That future is the creation at hand, which my fingers do mold in sentence,

Songs of dreams & beautiful things, sung on the lips of the broken,

A mountain pool, a mirror to the deep, was gifted to my eyes,

Between two worlds, on a rainbow redwood, a bridge into the sky,

As I slept upon this road, starry in the night,

A sharply made shell drifted through, that dark dreamy twilight,

This shell blade is in my hands, a time for an abalone adze,

Through the mirror darkly, an ancestor’s gentle grasp,

Walk this land as new head people, makers of the future,

Dance your prayers onto this land, each step a healing suture,

We are here all around you now, smiling into your soul,

The old ones woke, the watchers wake,

Soon we come home to the boiling stone.

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“The Little People in the Pacific Northwest”

V.1

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The first time I met a little person, I was about 19 and camped on the Wynoochee river near the coast of Washington. Myself and a friend had jeeped upriver to steelhead for a weekend, and made camp on a broad sand and cobble bar set against a gentle turn of the alder dotted river side. We first spent the weekend wetting lines in ever-present drizzle for fall steelhead, with not much luck. There were a few silvers in the stream, and the odd chinook, but mostly a “camping” trip by the end of the 2nd day. On the night of the 3rd day, we each made our tents after cooking some soggy hamburgers found in the bottom of the cooler. We hadn’t packed up much food, lots of spices and herbs for all those steely-heads we dreamed we would be feasting on riverside…but not much real food.

After dinner, we zipped up for the night. I had brought a book with me to read, Les Miserables, and had gotten to reading through midnight when I began to hear coyotes howling and yipping off in the distance, possibly across the river. I set to reading by my lantern light again, determined to figure out why this book was so popular, when the mess of coyotes started to sound much closer. I shut my lantern off and lay there in the dark of my tent on the rivers edge, listening now. The coyotes were clearly a pack nearby, having a scuffle, as I began to hear snarling and coyote barks and growls. Pretty soon the ruckus was much closer, now picking up in intensity. From the sounds of things, it was two packs of coyotes having a turf war. The chaotic ruckus of snarling and yipping seemed to form in my imagination by the sound of it, a giant rolling ball of coyote faces and legs propelling itself along the river cobble with a ferocious noise.

Quickly the packs of warring coyotes were in our camp, wrestling and biting and tearing at one another. By the waning light of our campfire, it was quite the light and shadow show to witness. But being curious, I unzipped my tent down to the screen window, and watched as coyotes rolled and tussled through the burning embers like little dust devils of fur and teeth in the dark coastal night. One particularly large and well furred coyote was making a mess of a group of the smaller ones, and soon enough they took to swimming across the short Wynoochee river to the alders on the other side. Not wasting any time, the big coyote took off downriver with its eyes on the other little pack the whole time, his pack in tow. They all took off in a sudden storm of howls that went down to your bones, just the vibration of their voices carrying in that foggy night, echoing off through the tall cedars beyond.

I lay there with my light off contemplating reading again, but the coyote show pretty much topped it all off, so I called it a night and shut my eyes, listening to the sounds of the coyotes disappear downriver. The next morning I woke up to the sounds of the river bubbling, and the birds chirping in the early sunrise…but I could not move a muscle. I lay there a moment to assess my situation, believed it to be sleep paralysis, and so tried to wrench myself out of it. Hard as I tried, I could not move a finger, I felt suddenly trapped, and a fear crept into me. I was stuck laying in my cot, with my eyes and ears awake, but nothing else working. This went on until suddenly I heard a giggling from behind my head, outside of the tent.

I heard small footsteps on the cobble outside my tent fabric wall, and that giggle laughing, like a little girl, but fully grown, and not quite human. I was in my head while this was happening, rationalizing it away as a nightmare, as a sleep paralysis dream . . . yet, I was fully awake, cognizant of everything around me, and I do recall this very clearly like a lived memory, which it is, to this day nearly 20 years later. As I lay there still frozen, this giggling little thing walked right up to the tent wall so that I could see its size by its shadow as the sunrise cast its silhouette, which by the looks of it was toe to toe with the tent wall. I slept against the tent wall, which means I was looking up at this thing looking down on me, if only the tent fabric didn’t seperate my sight . . . that giggling, it’s right over me now, I want to say it is a she by the sound of the laughter, but it’s hard to say about the little people. I am not afraid, but I am concerned about not leaving this world, I was suddenly wrestling this things power against me with a righteous internal fury. What was a frozen body is suddenly a jiggling mass of human flesh, still refusing to do my bidding, but moving at last. Not quite the righteous fury I had hoped for a second before, but I gained enough strength to turn my head to the tent wall and see three little fingers push against the tent fabric towards my face, then slide their fingers down the tent like that as they walked away.

The second their little feet could stop being heard, I was free of the spell of that little person. I could move, and I jolted up and unzipped my tent in a flurry to try to get a glimpse of the little person who had bewitched my physical body! But no such luck was to be immediately found. I decided then to stoke up the coals and make a morning fire, get the coffee percolating, and maybe even toast up some stale white bread. By the time the coffee was percolated, my fishing buddy was rolling out of his sack, “Don’t you think it’s foggy enough without adding to it?” He was making a jab at my smoking habit, but sure enough without me noticing a thick fog had socked in around us. I had my coffee, and told my buddy I was going to jeep downriver and hit a hole to see what shook. He said “F it”, and went back to sleep.

I got in my jeep, fired up the straight six cylinder, and started downstream on a big cobble bank to the aforementioned fishing hole. It felt like I was in a dream driving there, the fog was so utterly impenetrable, and it swirled around like it was a liquid instead of a fog; so dense the jeep lights looked like I was running into a cement wall, or perhaps driving through a pool of liquid cement. Eventually, I nosed down an embankment and got myself where I wanted to be. I hopped out of my jeep, grabbed my spinning rod and reel, kissed my lucky blue fox vibrax spinner #4 in green and silver, and got to casting that little eddy pool on the Wynoochee. It wasn’t my third cast when a dandy steelhead nailed my spinner, and even with all the bonks on the noggin I’ve had since then, I can recall the look in that steelheads eye when it saw me standing there just as it was hooked. It’s that moment when we as indian fishers and hunters and gatherers, we project a piece of our human essence out to that animal or plant we are taking, and in the taking, we find many full circles of giving most especially.

We give our humanness to these things, involuntarily in the moment perhaps, but voluntary in the acceptance of this way of life. That steelhead took on a human form then, a whole person stood under that cold late fall water, inside that dark frost rimmed eddy pool. A fine line ran taught between us for that moment, and he thrashed his long and powerful body with all his might, danced on the top water, and pulled on me every inch. As I pulled him ashore, now a steelhead, I knelt down in excitement and screamed that battle cry of my ancestors into the foggy morning light. The first steelhead of the trip, three days in, I was going to eat good today! I packed it up immediately and got to jeeping back. We fished the rest of the day in anticipation and excitement of more steelhead, dreaming up whole schools that were certainly, definitely running up strongly now . . . but all we saw were the occasional big old king salmon swim lazily past, completely disinterested in our gear. That night we sat around the alderwood fire, and we shared my one coal roasted steelhead, full of all the spices, lemon, onion, and herbs we brought. It was the best steelhead I have ever eaten.

I would later lose my jeep to the Wynoochee river, having been temporarily turned into a river raft for about 30 seconds before the motor took us under in a deep pool and sunk us flat. Boy was it an experience watching the river flow past my jeep windows completely submerged underwater, which is something to be said about jeep cherokee window seals . . . at any rate, I ran my driver window down to the shock of everything on my body, as the cold late fall river water jetted inside with a fury. I swam out of my jeep, from what seemed a chaotic mess underwater, to a suddenly peaceful riverside when I was above water. I had forgotten to grab my pistol however, so I had to make several bare-eyed jaunts back down into the depths of the Wynoochee, and into my Jeep, to recover it and my blackpowder pistol supplies, all gifted to me by my Grandpa DePoe for graduating high school after 5 years.

On many years of reflection, I don’t think one should mess around with the little people unless you are familiar with them, or unless you are willing to put all your luck on the line. But, if the situation arises where you have no choice in the matter, take the rough transformations to come as life saving gifts, rather than bad luck. Train tracks sometimes switch rough, but that other line could have been a dead end. The little people are magical and lucky folk, living in the middle places between this world and the sky world, ferry keepers of the many spirits across the eternal river . . . They are not bad, but they are people and as complex as you or I. They once lived at the mouth of the Chetco with the Wild People, about 8,300 years ago from Creation. It was said that was our first village. The thing about the Wild People and the Little People, is that they are purists, and live in a higher state of being than we do because of it. There was once a time, according to my oral tradition, that we all lived this way, able to perform great feats of magic on this earth as human Dee-ni.

We all lived once in a pure state of huu-cha~’, the good and right way of being by Creator’s first laws. Yet we find ourselves now in a different time of living than then, really, not so long ago. It was about 7,300 years ago that Mt. Mazama blew when the Headman of the Underworld fought with our Creator K’way-vsh-ne on the rim of the lava lake of his burning mountain. I mention this as it is significant to me that the Little People & Wild People both disappeared relatively shortly before this also significant event in our oral history. It was after this hard fought battle at Mt. Mazama that Creator sealed away that bad headman, and also across the land the chaotic and bad spirits & monsters, he sealed them underground as well. The good & right spirits & beings of this land, he counciled with to leave the affairs of the people to the people, giving us the dominion of this land for the first time in our long and ancient history.

Since then, there have been many stories arise of sightings and experiences with the Little People here in Oregon and the Pacific Northwest. To this very day, people report having experiences with them around the Pacific Northwest through the whole of Northern California, with a hotspot of reports surrounding the Mt. Shasta area. Not coincidentally, we hold that Mt. Shasta is the earthly lodge built by the Creator for himself, then later his daughter whose lodge is the second peak of Mt. Shasta. It is said in our coast Dené prophecy, when that mountain starts to smoke again, that we will know our Creator has returned to us on this earthly plane.

Shvm.