How the Rainbow Was Made - Mr. Akans Online

How the Rainbow Was Made

A Creation Tale from the Ojibwe Nation  

retold by

S. E. Schlosser 

One day when the earth was new, Nanabozho looked out the window of his
house beside the wide waterfall and realized that all of the flowers in his meadow
were exactly the same off-white color. How boring! He decided to make a
change, so he gathered up his paints and his paintbrushes and went out to the
meadow.
Nanabozho sat down in the tall grass and arranged his red and orange and
yellow and green and blue and violet paint pots next to him. Then he began to
paint the flowers in his meadow in many different colors. He painted the violets
dark blue and the tiger lilies orange with brown dots. He made the roses red and
pink and purple. He painted the pansies in every color combination he could think
of. Then he painted every single daffodil bright yellow. Nanabozho hummed
happily to himself as he worked in the brilliant daylight provided by Brother Sun.
Overhead, two little bluebirds were playing games with each other. The first little
bluebird would chase his friend across the meadow one way. Then they would
turn around and the second bluebird would chase him back the other way.
Zippity-zip went the first bluebird as he raced across the sky. Zappity-zing went
the second bluebird as he chased him in the brilliant sunshine.
Occasionally, Nanabozho would shade his eyes and look up…up into the endless
blue sky to watch the two little birds playing. Then he went back to work, painting
yellow centers in the white daisies. Above him, the two birds decided to see how
fast they could dive down to the green fields below them. The first bluebird sailed
down and down, and then pulled himself up sharply just before he touched the
ground. As he soared passed Nanabozho, his right wing dipped into the red paint
pot. When the second bluebird dove toward the grass, his left wing grazed the
orange paint pot.
Nanabozho scolded the two birds, but they kept up their game, diving down
toward the grass where he sat painting and then flying back up into the sky. Soon
their feet and feathers were covered with paint of all colors. Finally Nanabozho
stood up and waved his arms to shoo the birds away.
Reluctantly, the bluebirds flew away from Nanabozho and his paint pots, looking
for another game to play. They started chasing each other again, sailing this way
and that over top of the giant waterfall that stood next to Nanabozho's house.
Zippity-zip, the first bluebird flew through the misty spray of the waterfall. The first

bluebird left a long red paint streak against the sky. Zappity-zing, the second
bluebird chased his friend through the mist, leaving an orange paint streak. Then
the birds turned to go back the other way. This time, the first bluebird left a yellow
paint streak and the second left a pretty blue-violet paint streak. As they raced
back and forth, the colors grew more vivid. When Brother Sun shone on the
colors, they sparkled radiantly through the mist of the waterfall.
Below them, Nanabozho looked up in delight when the brilliant colors spilled over
his meadow. A gorgeous arch of red and orange and yellow and green and blue
and violet shimmered in the sky above the waterfall. Nanabozho smiled at the
funny little bluebirds and said: "You have made a rainbow!"
Nanabozho was so pleased that he left the rainbow permanently floating above
his waterfall, its colors shimmering in the sunshine and the misting water. From
that day to this, whenever Brother Sun shines his light on the rain or the mist, a
beautiful rainbow forms. It is a reflection of the mighty rainbow that still stands
over the waterfall at Nanabozho's house.

The Maid of the Mist

A Native American Myth

Ongiaras Tribe

retold by

S. E. Schlosser

She lost her husband and her hope at a young age, and the beautiful girl could
not find her way through the sorrow upon sorrow that was her lot in life. So she
stepped one day into her canoe, singing a death song softly to herself, and
paddle out into the current. Soon the canoe was caught by the rough waves and
hurtled toward the falls. But as it pitched over and she fell, Heno, the god of
thunder who lived in the falls, caught the maiden gently in his arms and carried
her to his home beneath the thundering veil of water.

Heno and his sons ministered to the grieving girl, and she stayed with them until
her heart healed within her. Then the younger son spoke words of love to the
maiden and they married, to the delight of the god of thunder. A young son was
born to the couple, and he followed his grandfather everywhere, learning what it
meant to be a god of thunder.

The only shadow on the happiness of the maiden in the mist was a continual
longing to see her people one more time. Her chance came in an unexpected
and unwelcome way. A great snake came down the mighty river and poisoned
the waters of her people. They grew sick and were dying. Soon the snake would
return to devour the dead until my people were all gone. It was Heno himself who
gave her the news, and she begged that she might return for one hour to warn
her people of the danger. The god himself lifted her through the falls and set her
down among her people to give warning about the evil snake that was causing
such pestilence among them. She advised them to move to a higher country until
the danger was past, and they agreed. Then Heno came and took the maiden
back to her husband and her home.

In a few days, the giant serpent returned to the village, seeking the bodies of
those who had died from the poison it had spread. When the snake realized that
the people had deserted the village, it hissed in rage and turned upstream to
search for them. But Heno heard the voice of the serpent and rose up through
the mist of the falls. He threw a great thunderbolt at the creature and killed it in
one mighty blast. The giant body of the creature floated downstream and lodged

just above the cataract, creating a large semi-circle that deflected huge amounts
of water into the falls at the place just above the god's home. Horrified by this
disastrous turn of events, Heno swept in through the falls and did his best to stop
the massive influx of water, but it was too late.

Seeing that his home would soon be destroyed, Heno called for the maiden and
his sons to come away with him. The younger son caught up his wife and child
and followed Heno through the water of the falls and up into the sky, where the
Thunderer made them a new home. From this place, they watch over the people
of the earth, while Heno thunders in the clouds as he once thundered in the
vapors of the great falls. To this day, an echo of the Heno's voice can be heard in
the thunder of the mighty waters of Niagara Falls.

 

Attack of the Mammoth

A British Columbia Myth

from Kaska First Nation

retold by

S.E. Schlosser

A man and his family were constantly on the move, hunting for beaver. They
traveled from lake to lake, stream to stream, never staying any place long
enough for it to become a home. The woman sometimes silently wished that they
would find a village and settle down somewhere with their little baby, but her
husband was restless, and so they kept moving.

 

One evening, after setting up camp on a large lake, the young mother went out to
net some beaver, carrying her baby upon her back. When she had a toboggan
full of beaver meat, she started back to camp. As she walked through the
darkening evening, she heard the thump-thump-thump of mighty footsteps
coming from somewhere behind her. She stopped; her heart pounding. She was
being followed by something very large. Her hands trembled as she thought of
the meat she was dragging behind her. The creature must have smelled the meat
and was stalking the smell.
 
Afraid to turn around and alert the beast, she bent over as if to pick something off
the snowy path and glanced quickly past her legs. Striding boldly through the
snowy landscape was a tall, barrel-shaped, long-haired creature with huge tusks
and a very long trunk. It was a tix - a mammoth - and it looked hungry. She
straightened quickly and hurriedly threw the meat into the snow. Then she ran as
fast as she could back to camp, dragging the toboggan behind her. Her little baby
cried out fearfully, frightened by all the jostling, but she did not stop to comfort
him until she was safe inside their shelter.
 
She told her husband at once about the terrible mammoth that had stalked her
and taken the beaver meat. Her husband shook his head and told her she was
dreaming. Everyone knew that the mammoth had all died away. Then he light-
heartedly accused her of giving the meat away to a handsome sweetheart. She
denied it resentfully, knowing that he really believed that she had carelessly

overturned the toboggan and had let the meat sink beneath the icy waters of the
lake.
 
After her husband went to set more beaver nets, she prepared the evening meal.
While it was cooking over the fire, she walked all around the camp, making sure
that there was an escape route through the willow-brush just in case the hungry
mammoth attacked them in the night.
 
The husband and wife lay down to sleep next to the fire after they finished the
evening meal. The husband chuckled when he saw that his wife kept her
moccasins on and the baby clutched in her arms. "Expecting the mammoth to
attack us?" he asked jovially. She nodded, and he laughed aloud at her. Soon he
was asleep, but the woman lay awake for a long time, listening.
 
The wife was awakened from a light doze around midnight by the harsh sounds
of the mammoth approaching. "Husband," she shouted, shaking him. He opened
his eyes grumpily and demanded an explanation. She tried to tell him that the
hungry mammoth was coming to eat them, but he told her she was having a
nightmare and would not listen. The wife begged and pleaded and tried to drag
him away with her, but he resisted and finally shouted at her to begone if she was
afraid. In despair, she clutched her little child to her chest and ran away from the
camp.
 
As she fled, she heard the harsh roar of the giant creature and the sudden shout
of her husband as he came face to face with the creature. Then there was
silence, and the woman knew her husband was dead. Weeping, she fled with her
child, seeking a village that she had heard was nearby. Sometime in the early
hours of the morning, she heard the thump-thump-thump of the creature's
massive feet stomping through the snow-fields, following her trail. Occasionally, it
made a wailing sound like that of a baby crying.
 
The woman kept jogging along, comforting her little baby as best she could. As
light dawned, she saw a camp full of people who were living on the shores of an
island on the lake. She crossed the icy expanse as quickly as possible and
warned the people of the fierce mammoth that had killed her husband. The
warriors quickly went out onto the ice and made many holes around the edges of
their village, weakening the ice so that the mammoth would fall through and
drown.
 

As evening approached, the people saw the mammoth coming toward them
across the ice. When it neared their camp on the island, the creature plunged
through the weakened ice. Everyone cheered, thinking that the animal had
drowned. Then its large hairy head emerged out of the water and it shook its long
tusks and bellowed in rage. The mammoth started walking along the bottom of
the lake, brushing aside the ice with his large tusks.
 
The people panicked. They screamed and ran in circles, and some of them stood
frozen in place, staring as the mammoth emerged from the ice and walked up
onto the banks of the island. The wife of the eaten man fled with her baby, urging
as many of her new-found friends as she could reach, to flee with her. But many
remained behind, paralyzed with fear.
 
Then a boy emerged from one of the shelters, curious to know what was causing
everyone to scream in fear. He wore the bladder of a moose over his head,
covering his hair so that he looked bald. He was a strange lad, and was shunned
by the locals. Only his grandmother knew that he was a mighty shaman with
magic trousers and magic arrows that could kill any living beast.
 
When the boy saw the hungry, angry mammoth, he called out to his grandmother
to fetch the magic trousers and the magic arrows. Donning his clothing, he shook
his head until the bladder burst and his long hair fell down to his waist. Then he
took his magic bow and arrows and leapt in front of the frightened people and
began peppering the beast with arrows, first from one side and then the other.
The mammoth roared and weaved and tried to attack the boy, but the shaman's
magic was powerful, and soon the beast lay dead upon the ground.
 
Then those who fled from the mammoth returned to the camp, led by the poor
widow and her baby. The people whose lives had been saved by the bladder-
headed boy gave a cheer and gathered in excitement around the boy. In
gratitude, the people made the shaman their chief and offered him two beautiful
girls to be his wives, though he accepted only one of them. The widow and her
baby were welcomed into the tribe, and a few months later she married a brave
warrior who became close friends with the shaman-become-chief.
 
And from that day to this, the people have always had chiefs to lead them, and
no mammoths have troubled them again.
 

Coyote and the Columbia

From the Sahaptin/Salishan Tribes

retold by

S. E. Schlosser 

One day, Coyote was walking along. The sun was shining brightly, and Coyote
felt very hot.

"I would like a cloud," Coyote said.

So a cloud came and made some shade for Coyote. Coyote was not satisfied.

"I would like more clouds," he said. More clouds came along, and the sky began
to look very stormy. But Coyote was still hot.

"How about some rain," said Coyote. The clouds began to sprinkle rain on
Coyote.

"More rain," Coyote demanded. The rain became a downpour.

"I would like a creek to put my feet in," said Coyote. So a creek sprang up beside
him, and Coyote walked in it to cool off his feet.

"It should be deeper," said Coyote.

The creek became a huge, swirling river. Coyote was swept over and over by the
water. Finally, nearly drowned, Coyote was thrown up on the bank far away.
When he woke up, the buzzards were watching him, trying to decide if he was
dead.

"I'm not dead," Coyote told them, and they flew away.

That is how the Columbia River began.

Crow Brings the Daylight

An Inuit Myth

retold by

S. E. Schlosser

Long, long ago, when the world was still new, the Inuit lived in darkness in their
home in the fastness of the north. They had never heard of daylight, and when it
was first explained to them by Crow, who traveled back and forth between the
northlands and the south, they did not believe him.

Yet many of the younger folk were fascinated by the story of the light that gilded
the lands to the south. They made Crow repeat his tales until they knew them by
heart.

"Imagine how far and how long we could hunt," they told one another.

"Yes, and see the polar bear before it attacks," others agreed.

Soon the yearning for daylight was so strong that the Inuit people begged Crow
to bring it to them. Crow shook his head. "I am too old," he told them. "The
daylight is very far away. I can no longer go so far." But the pleadings of the
people made him reconsider, and finally he agreed to make the long journey to
the south.

Crow flew for many miles through the endless dark of the north. He grew weary
many times, and almost turned back. But at last he saw a rim of light at the very
edge of horizon and knew that the daylight was close.

Crow strained his wings and flew with all his might. Suddenly, the daylight world
burst upon him with all its glory and brilliance. The endless shades of color and
the many shapes and forms surrounding him made Crow stare and stare. He
flapped down to a tree and rested himself, exhausted by his long journey. Above
him, the sky was an endless blue, the clouds fluffy and white. Crow could not get
enough of the wonderful scene.

Eventually Crow lowered his gaze and realized that he was near a village that lay
beside a wide river. As he watched, a beautiful girl came to the river near the tree
in which he perched. She dipped a large bucket into the icy waters of the river
and then turned to make her way back to the village. Crow turned himself into a

tiny speck of dust and drifted down towards the girl as she passed beneath his
tree. He settled into her fur cloak and watched carefully as she returned to the
snow lodge of her father, who was the chief of the village people.

It was warm and cozy inside the lodge. Crow looked around him and spotted a
box that glowed around the edges. Daylight, he thought. On the floor, a little boy
was playing contentedly. The speck of dust that was Crow drifted away from the
girl and floated into the ear of the little boy. Immediately the child sat up and
rubbed at his ear, which was irritated by the strange speck. He started to cry, and
the chief, who was a doting grandfather, came running into the snow lodge to see
what was wrong.

"Why are you crying?" the chief asked, kneeling beside the child.

Inside the little boy's ear, Crow whispered: "You want to play with a ball of
daylight." The little boy rubbed at his ear and then repeated Crow's words.

The chief sent his daughter to the glowing box in the corner. She brought it to her
father, who removed a glowing ball, tied it with a string, and gave it to the little
boy. He rubbed his ear thoughtfully before taking the ball. It was full of light and
shadow, color and form. The child laughed happily, tugging at the string and
watching the ball bounce.

Then Crow scratched the inside of his ear again and the little boy gasped and
cried.

"Don't cry, little one," said the doting grandfather anxiously. "Tell me what is
wrong."

Inside the boy's ear, Crow whispered: "You want to go outside to play." The boy
rubbed at his ear and then repeated Crow's words to his grandfather.
Immediately, the chief lifted up the small child and carried him outside, followed
by his worried mother.

As soon as they were free of the snow lodge, Crow swooped out of the child's
ear and resumed his natural form. He dove toward the little boy's hand and
grabbed the string from him. Then he rose up and up into the endless blue sky,
the ball of daylight sailing along behind him.

In the far north, the Inuit saw a spark of light coming toward them through the
darkness. It grew brighter and brighter, until they could see Crow flapping his
wings as he flew toward them. The people gasped and pointed and called in
delight.

The Crow dropped the ball, and it shattered upon the ground, releasing the
daylight so that it exploded up and out, illuminating every dark place and chasing
away every shadow. The sky grew bright and turned blue. The dark mountains
took on color and light and form. The snow and ice sparkled so brightly that the
Inuit had to shade their eyes.

The people laughed and cried and exclaimed over their good fortune. But Crow
told them that the daylight would not last forever. He had only obtained one ball
of daylight from the people of the south, and it would need to rest for six months
every year to regain its strength. During that six month period, the darkness
would return.

The people said: "Half a year of daylight is enough. Before you brought the
daylight, we lived our whole life in darkness!" Then they thanked Crow over and
over again.

To this day, the Inuit live for half a year in darkness and half a year in daylight.
And they are always kind to Crow, for it was he who brought them the light.

Fire

A Myth from the Alabama Tribe

retold by S.E. Schlosser

In the beginning of the world, it was Bear who owned Fire. It warmed Bear and
his people on cold nights and gave them light when it was dark. Bear and his
people carried fire with them wherever they went.

One day, Bear and his people came to a great forest, where they found many
acorns lying on the forest floor. Bear set Fire at the edge of the forest, and he
and his people began eating acorns. The acorns were crunch and crisp and
tasted better than any other acorns Bear and his people had ever eaten. They
wandered further and further away from Fire, eating the delicious acorns and
seeking out more when the acorn supply grew low.

Fire blazed up merrily for awhile, until it had burned nearly all of its wood. It
started to smoke and flicker, then it dwindled down and down. Fire was alarmed.
It was nearly out. "Feed me! Feed me!" Fire shouted to Bear. But Bear and his
people had wandered deep into the forest, and then did not hear Fire's cries.

At that moment, Man came walking through the forest and saw the small,
flickering Fire. "Feed me! Feed me!" Fire cried in despair.

"What should I feed you?" Man asked. He had never seen Fire before.

"I eat sticks and logs and wood of all kinds," Fire explained.

Man picked up a stick and leaned it on the North side of Fire. Fire sent its
orange-blue flames flickering up the side of the stick until it started to burn. Man
got a second stick and laid it on the West side of the fire. Fire, nourished by the
first stick, burned brighter and stretched taller and eagerly claimed the second
stick. Man picked up a third stick and laid it on the south side of Fire and laid a
fourth stick on the East. By this time, Fire was leaping and dancing in delight, its
hunger satisfied.

Man warmed himself by the blazing Fire, enjoying the changed colors and the
hissing and snapping sound Fire made as it ate the wood. Man and Fire were
very happy together, and Man fed Fire sticks whenever it got hungry.

A long time later, Bear and his people came back to the edge of the forest,
looking for Fire. Fire was angry when it saw Bear. It blazed until it was white-hot
and so bright that Bear had to shade his eyes with both paws. "I do not even
know you!" Fire shouted at Bear. The terrible heat rolling of Fire drove Bear and
his people away, so they could not take it and carry it away with them.

And now Fire belongs to Man.

Pele's Revenge

A Hawaii Legend

retold by

S.E. Schlosser 

Ohi'a and Lehua loved each other from the moment they first saw each other at a
village dance. Ohi'a was a tall strong man with a handsome face and lithe form.
He was something of a trickster and was first in all the sports played by all the
young men. Lehua was gentle and sweet and as fragile as a flower. Her beauty
was the talk of the island, and her father was quite protective of his only child.

When Lehua saw the handsome, bold Ohi'a speaking with her father beside the
bonfire, she blushed crimson, unable to take her eyes from the young man. At
the same moment, Ohi'a glanced up from his conversation and his mouth
dropped open at the sight of the beautiful maiden. He was not even aware that
he had stopped speaking right in the middle of his sentence, so overwhelmed
was he by the sight of the fair maiden across the fire from him.

Lehua's father nudged the young man, recalling him to his duties as a guest.
Ohi'a stuttered and stammered apologies, trying to continue his conversation
while keeping one eye on the fair Lehua. Lehua's father was amused by the
young man's obvious infatuation with his daughter. He quite liked this bold
trickster, and so he offered to introduce Ohi'a to his daughter. The young man
almost fell over in his haste as they walked across the clearing to where Lehua
stood with her friends.

From that moment, there was no other woman for Ohi'a but Lehua. He had eyes
only for her, and courted her with a passion and zeal that swiftly won her heart.
Her father gave his only daughter gladly into the keeping of the strong young
man, and the young couple lived quite happily for several months in a new home
Ohi'a built for his bride.

Then one day the goddess Pele was walking in the forest near the home of the
handsome Ohi'a and spied the young man at work. Pele was smitten by him, and
went at once to engage him in conversation. Ohi'a spoke politely to the beautiful
woman, but did not respond to her advances, which infuriated Pele. She was
determined to have this young man for herself, but before she could renew her

efforts, Lehua came to the place her young husband was working to bring him his
midday meal.

When he saw his lovely wife, Ohi'a's face lit up with love. He dropped everything
at once and went to her side, leaving a fuming Pele to stare in jealous rage at the
young couple. Dropping her human disguise, the goddess transformed into a
raging column of fire and struck Ohi'a down, transforming him into a twisted ugly
tree in revenge for spurning her advances.

Lehua fell to her knees beside the twisted tree that had once been her husband.
Tears streaming down her lovely face, she begged Pele to turn him back into a
man or else turn her into a tree, as she could not bear to be separated from her
beloved. But Pele ignored the girl, taking herself up to the cool heights, her anger
satisfied. But the gods saw what Pele had done to the innocent lovers and were
angry. As Lehua lay weeping in despair, the gods reached down and transformed
the girl into a beautiful red flower, which they placed upon the twisted Ohi'a tree,
so that she and her beloved husband would never more be apart.

From that day to this, the Ohi'a tree has blossomed with the beautiful red Lehua
flowers. While the flowers remain on the tree, the weather remains sunny and
fair. But when a flower is plucked from the tree, then heavy rain falls upon the
land like tears, for Lehua still cannot bear to be separated from her beloved
husband Ohi'a.

The King of Sharks

A Native American Myth

from Hawaii

retold by

S. E. Schlosser

One day, the King of Sharks saw a beautiful girl swimming near the shore. He
immediately fell in love with the girl. Transforming himself into a handsome man,
he dressed himself in the feathered cape of a chief and followed her to her
village.

The villagers were thrilled by the visit of a foreign chief. They made a great luau,
with feasting and games. The King of Sharks won every game, and the girl was
delighted when he asked to marry with her.

The King of Sharks lived happily with his bride in a house near a waterfall. The
King of Sharks, in his human form, would swim daily in the pool of water beneath
the falls. Sometimes he would stay underneath the water so long that his bride
would grow frightened. But the King of Sharks reassured her, telling her that he
was making a place at the bottom of the pool for their son.

Before the birth of the child, the King of Sharks returned to his people. He made
his wife swear that she would always keep his feathered cape about the
shoulders of their son. When the child was born, his mother saw a mark upon his
back which looked like the mouth of a shark. It was then she realized who her
husband had been.

The child's name was Nanave. As he grew towards manhood, Nanave would
swim daily in the pool beside the house. Sometimes, his mother would gaze into
the pool and see a shark swimming beneath the water.

Each morning, Nanave would stand beside the pool, the feathered cloak about
his shoulders, and would ask the passing fishermen where they were going to
fish that day. The fisherman always told the friendly youth where they intended to
go. Then Nanave would dive into the pool and disappear for hours.

The fishermen soon noticed that they were catching fewer and fewer fish. The
people of their village were growing hungry. The chief of the village called the

people to the temple. "There is a bad god among us," the chief told the people.
"He prevents our fishermen from catching fish. I will use my magic to find him."
The chief laid out a bed of leaves. He instructed all the men and boys to walk
among the leaves. A human's feet would bruise the tender leaves, but the feet of
a god would leave no mark.

Nanave's mother was frightened. She knew her son was the child of a god, and
he would be killed if the people discovered his identity. When it came turn for the
youth to walk across the leaves, he ran fast, and slipped. A man caught at the
feathered cape Nanave always wore to prevent him from being hurt. But the cape
fell from the youth's shoulders, and all the people could see the shark's mouth
upon his back.

The people chased Nanave out of the village, but he slipped away from them and
dived into the pool. The people threw big rocks into the pool, filling it up. They
thought they had killed Nanave. But his mother remembered that the King of
Sharks had made a place for her son at the bottom of the pool, a passage that
led to the ocean. Nanave had taken the form of a shark and had swum out to join
his father, the King of Sharks, in the sea.

But since then, the fishermen have never told anyone where they go to fish, for
fear the sharks will hear and chase the fish away.