September: The Corn Month [The Red Indian Fairy Book]
How Indian Corn Came into the World
(Chippewa)
LONG, long ago, in a beautiful part of this country, there lived an Indian with his wife and children. He was poor and found it hard to provide food enough for his family. But though needy, he was kind and contented, and always gave thanks to the Great Spirit for everything that he received. His eldest son, Wunzh, was likewise kind and gentle and thankful of heart, and he longed greatly to do something for his people.
The time came that
Wunzh reached the age when every Indian boy fasts so that he may see in a
vision the Spirit that is to be his guide through life. Wunzh's father built
him a little lodge apart, so that the boy might rest there undisturbed during
his days of fasting. Then Wunzh withdrew to begin the solemn rite.
On the first day he
walked alone in the woods looking at the flowers and plants, and filling his
mind with the beautiful images of growing things, so that he might see them in
his night-dreams. He saw how the flowers and herbs and berries grew, and he
knew that some were good for food, and that others healed wounds and cured
sickness. And his heart was filled with even a greater longing to do something
for his family and his tribe.
"Truly,"
thought he, "the Great Spirit made all things. To Him we owe our lives.
But could He not make it easier for us to get our food than by hunting and
catching fish? I must try to find this out in my vision."
So Wunzh returned
to his lodge and fasted and slept. On the third day he became weak and faint.
Soon he saw in a vision a young brave coming down from the sky and approaching
the lodge. He was clad in rich garments of green and yellow. On his head was a
tuft of nodding green plumes, and all his motions were graceful and swaying.
"I am sent to
you, O Wunzh," said the Sky stranger, "by that Great Spirit who made
all things in Sky and Earth. He has seen your fasting, and knows how you wish
to do good to your people, and that you do not seek for strength in war nor for
the praise of warriors. I am sent to tell you how you may do good to your
kindred. Arise and wrestle with me, for only by overcoming me may you learn the
secret."
Wunzh, though he
was weak from fasting, felt courage grow in his heart, and he arose and
wrestled with the stranger. But soon he became weaker and exhausted, and the
stranger, seeing this, smiled gently on him, and said, "My friend, this is
enough for once, I will come again to-morrow." And he vanished as suddenly
as he had appeared.
The next day the
stranger came again, and Wunzh felt himself weaker than before; nevertheless,
he rose and wrestled bravely. Then the stranger spoke a second time. "My
friend," he said, "have courage. To-morrow will be your last
trial." And he disappeared from Wunzh's sight.
On the third day
the stranger came as before, and the struggle was renewed. And Wunzh, though
fainter in body, grew strong in mind and will, and he determined to win or
perish in the attempt. He exerted all his powers, and, lo! in a while, he
prevailed, and overcame the stranger.
"O Wunzh, my
friend," said the conquered one, "you have wrestled manfully. You
have met your trial well. To-morrow I shall come once more, and you must
wrestle with me for the last time. You will prevail. Do you then strip off my
garments, throw me down, clean the ground of roots and weeds, and bury me in
that spot. When you have done so, leave my body in the ground. Come often to
the place, and see whether I have come to life.
"But be careful
not to let weeds or grass grow on my grave. If you do all this well, you will
soon discover how to benefit your fellow creatures." Having said this, the
stranger disappeared.
In the morning
Wunzh's father came to him with food. "My Son," he said, "you have
fasted long. It is seven days since you have tasted food, and you must not
sacrifice your life. The Master of Life does not require that."
"My
Father," replied the boy, "wait until the Sun goes down to-morrow.
For a certain reason I wish to fast until that hour."
"Very
well," said the old man, "I will wait until the time arrives when you
feel inclined to eat." And he went away.
The next day, at
the usual hour, the Sky stranger came again. And, though Wunzh had fasted seven
days, he felt a new power arise within him. He grasped the stranger with
superhuman strength, and threw him down. He took from him his beautiful
garments, and, finding him dead, buried him in the softened earth, and did all
else as he had been directed.
He then returned to
his father's lodge, and partook sparingly of food. There he abode for some
time. But he never forgot the grave of his friend. Daily he visited it, and pulled
up the weeds and grass, and kept the ground soft and moist. Very soon, to his
great wonder, he saw the tops of green plumes coming through the ground.
Weeks passed by,
the Summer was drawing to a close. One day Wunzh asked his father to follow
him. He led him to a distant meadow. There, in the place where the stranger had
been buried, stood a tall and graceful Plant, with bright-coloured, silken
hair, and crowned by nodding green plumes. Its stalk was covered with waving
leaves, and there grew from its sides clusters of milk-filled Ears of Corn,
golden and sweet, each ear closely wrapped in its green husks.
"It is my
friend!" shouted the boy joyously; "it is Mondawmin, the Indian Corn!
We need no longer depend on hunting, so long as this gift is planted and cared
for. The Great Spirit has heard my voice and has sent us this food."
Then the whole
family feasted on the ears of Corn and thanked the Great Spirit who gave it.
And, so say the Chippewa, Indian Corn came into the world.
The Spirit of the Corn
(Iroquois)
THERE was a time, says the Iroquois Grandmother, when it was not needful to
plant the Corn seed nor to hoe the fields, for the Corn sprang up of itself,
and filled the broad meadows. Its stalks grew strong and tall, and were covered
with leaves like waving banners, and filled with ears of pearly grain wrapped
in silken green husks.
In those days Onatah,
the Spirit of the Corn, walked upon the earth. The Sun lovingly touched her
dusky face with the blush of the morning, and her eyes grew soft as the gleam
of the Stars on dark streams. Her night-black hair was spread before the breeze
like a wind-driven cloud.
As she walked
through the fields, the Corn, the Indian Maize, sprang up of itself from the
Earth, and filled the air with its fringed tassels and whispering leaves. With
Onatah walked her two sisters, the Spirits of the Squash and the Bean. As they
passed by, Squash vines and Bean plants grew from the Corn hills.
One day Onatah
wandered away alone in search of early dew. The Evil One of the Earth,
Hahgwehdaetgah, followed swiftly after. He grasped her by the hair and dragged
her beneath the ground down to his gloomy cave. Then, sending out his
fire-breathing monsters, he blighted Onatah's grain. And when her sisters, the
Spirits of the Squash and the Bean, saw the flame-monsters raging through the
fields, they flew far away in terror. As for poor Onatah, she lay a trembling
captive in the dark prison-cave of the Evil One. She mourned the blight of her
cornfields, and sorrowed over her runaway sisters.
"O warm,
bright Sun!" she cried, "if I may walk once more upon the Earth,
never again will I leave my Corn!"
And the little
birds of the air heard her cry, and, winging their way upward, they carried her
vow and gave it to the Sun as he wandered through the blue heavens.
The Sun, who loved
Onatah, sent out many searching beams of light. They pierced through the damp
ground, and entering the prison-cave, guided her back again to her fields.
And ever after that
she watched her fields alone, for no more did her sisters, the Spirits of the
Squash and Bean, watch with her. If her fields thirsted, no longer could she
seek the early dew. If the flame-monsters burned her Corn, she could not search
the Skies for cooling winds. And when the great rains fell and injured her
harvest, her voice grew so faint that the friendly Sun could not hear it.
But ever Onatah
tenderly watched her fields and the little birds of the air flocked to her
service. They followed her through the rows of Corn, and made war on the tiny
enemies that gnawed at the roots of the grain.
And at harvest-time
the grateful Onatah scattered the first-gathered Corn over her broad lands. And
the little birds, fluttering and singing, joyfully partook of the feast spread
for them on the meadow-ground.
The Little Corn-Bringer
(Hopi)
A LONG time ago in an Indian village there was nothing to eat because it did
not rain for five years. The first year the Corn grew large, but just as the
ears began to ripen, the Frost came and killed them. The next year the ears
were just forming, when the Frost came and blighted them. The third year, the
Frost killed the stalks before the ears were formed. It was the same the fourth
year. The people by this time had eaten all the Corn they had stored away, and
some of them moved to another part of the country. But those who remained
planted Corn the fifth year, and the Drought withered the plants soon after
they came out of the ground.
Then all the people
packed up their goods, and moved away; except two little children, a boy and
his sister. They stayed in the village, and played together.
Well, the next day
after the people had left, the boy made his sister a tiny bird cut from a
Sunflower stalk. While her brother was away hunting, she threw the little bird
in the air, and, lo, it became a lovely Hummingbird, shining like a jewel, and
flew away. When the boy came back, she told him how the bird had become alive,
and he was very much surprised.
The next morning,
when the children woke up, the Hummingbird flew in at the door, and crept into
a hole in the wall. The boy put his hand into the hole, and the bird was gone!
But he found a little Corn ear. The children were very glad, for they were
hungry, so they broke the ear in two, and roasted and ate it. Soon the
Hummingbird came out of the opening, and flew away again.
The next day it
returned, and entered the hole, and the boy put in his hand and found a larger
Corn ear, and the Hummingbird came out and flew off. So it happened for three
more days; the Hummingbird each time bringing a larger ear. On the fifth day it
came back, but did not bring any Corn with it. When the boy put his hand into
the hole, he pulled out the little bird, and it was no longer alive, and was
only a piece of Sunflower stalk!
Well, he took it in
his hand, and said, "Little Bird, go and seek our father and mother, and
bring us something to eat." But the bird did not move. Then the boy asked
his sister how she had made it fly.
"This is the
way I did it," said she. And she took the Sunflower-stalk bird in her
hand, and throwing it into the air, it became a Hummingbird again, and flew
off.
It flew, and it
flew, until it came to a Cactus plant on which was a single large red blossom.
It pulled up the Cactus, and under its roots was a hole. Down into this the
bird hopped, and found itself in a large kiva where grass and green herbs were
growing. It passed through an opening into another kiva filled with Corn,
white, blue, yellow, and red. There were also in this kiva Robins, Bluebirds,
Wrens, Blackbirds, and all other kinds of birds. They were flying about the
head of a Magician who sat there. He had put an evil spell upon the Earth so
that the Frost and Drought should kill the Corn.
The little
Hummingbird lighted on the Magician's arm, and begged him to take his spell off
the Earth, and save the hungry children.
Then the Magician
was sorry for the children, and promised the bird that he would do what he
could. He gave it a large roasting Corn ear, and sent it away. It flew back
with the Corn to the village.
The boy found the
Corn ear in the hole, and he said: "O little Bird, thank you! Thank you! You
have brought us something to eat again, and because of your goodness we are
still alive. Go now and feed our parents."
So the little Hummingbird
went away, and hunted over the plain for the father and mother. It found them
at last, thin and dying of hunger, and brought them large roasting ears from
the kiva.
Meanwhile the
Magician took the evil spell off the Earth, and the warm rain began to fall.
The Corn seeds sprouted in the fields, and pushed their green blades above the
ground. Soon they became tall and stately plants, with leaves rustling in the
wind. From their sides grew many large ears of Corn with their green silken
tassels.
Then the father and
mother, seeing the rain, came back to the village. But the little Hummingbird
flew away and was never seen again. As for the boy and girl, they grew up, and
were great Chiefs of their tribe; and they were never hungry again.