We are squarely in mid-summer, complete with strong sun UV rays. There was a time when children played all a summer day without a hint of sunscreen, maybe even using something like Coppertone to get a tan. I remember every summer started out with one sunburn and then all others became a tan.
Eleanor Skinner in The Turquoise Story Book retold a story of attempted control of the sun. She only calls it an "Indian legend", but the housing in it is a "wigwam." Since that is an Algonquian word used by the Anishinaabe, it is probably a story from either Canada's First Nations or here in the north central part of the U.S.
 |
| https://www.health.harvard.edu/healthy-aging-and-longevity/the-science-of-sunscreen |
I can easily picture this story here in Michigan. It also fits summer so well. Right about now people might indeed wish they could control the sun. Here is a legend about trying that.
HOW THE SUN WAS CAUGHT AND
FREED
Once upon a time there lived a little Indian boy who was very proud of his beautiful coat. His sister had made it for him out of the skins of ten snow-birds. Carefully she had dried these skins, stretched them, and pieced them into a soft, warm garment. The lad was so fond of his coat that he wore it whenever he left the wigwam, no matter how warm the sun shone.
One morning the Indian lad took a long walk and becoming very tired he threw himself down on a grassy hillside to rest, and fell sound asleep.
"Ha! ha! ha!" laughed the Sun when he saw the boy wrapped in a bird-skin coat in summer time. "I must give this lad a hint that the snow and ice are gone and it is time to lay aside winter coverings."
With all his warm might the Sun shone on the sleeping lad. Gradually the feathers of his coat curled up and became singed and brown, and the garment shrank to a very small size.
"Ha! ha! ha!" laughed the Sun.
When the Indian lad awoke he wondered what had happened to him for he felt as if he were caught in a trap. He sprang to his feet and discovered that his beautiful coat had shrunk until it was entirely too small for him.
"It is ruined," he cried aloud. "Ruined by that monster Sun. He shall not play such tricks on me and escape without punishment." Then, shaking his fist in the Sun's face, he shouted, "I'll make you pay for ruining my beautiful bird-skin coat."
"Ha! ha! ha!" laughed the Sun.
The Indian lad ran back to the wigwam as fast as he could, carrying the garment in his hands.
"See what has happened!" he cried to his sister. "That vicious Sun shrank my beautiful coat while I was asleep on the hillside. I can never wear it again."
"Perhaps I can stretch it for you," said his sister.
"No, no! See, the feathers are singed and brown. It is ruined!"
He was so sorely vexed that he could neither eat nor sleep. For twenty days he fasted in the wigwam and wondered how he could call the mischievous Sun to account for spoiling the bird-skin coat.
One morning he sprang up and said to his sister, "I have thought out a way to punish the Sun. In his high path across the sky he thinks he is safe from a little lad like me, but I'll show him what I can do if you will help me."
"Tell me your plan," said the sister, wondering how any mortal could punish the mighty Sun.
"I'll set a snare for him and catch him!" cried her brother excitedly. "I want the strongest cord you can find."
"I've plenty of dried moose-hide; will that be strong enough?" she asked.
"No, no! That would never hold the Sun," said the boy.
His sister thought a while and then said, "I have dried sinew of deer."
But still her brother shook his head. "The Sun is a mighty quarry. I must have something stronger than the sinew of the deer."
"Then I must search in the deep woods," said his sister.
She left the wigwam and for nine days she searched through the forest. At last she returned with a twisted cord which she had made from the strongest wood fiber. As soon as her brother saw it he knew what to do. He drew the twisted fiber through his lips and immediately it became so fine and strong that he believed nothing could break it. Round and round his body the lad wound this cord; at one end of it he fashioned a noose.
Confident that he was now prepared to snare the Sun, the lad left the wigwam long before daybreak. He walked to the spot where the Sun first peeps over the rim of the earth, and there he securely fixed the noose. Then as he walked back to the lodge he unwound from his body the cord, and held fast to the end of it.
The Sun was caught in this snare! His shining head was held tight in the noose and he could not travel across his Sky-Path. A strange dull light filled the air.
In his wigwam the Indian lad was delighted. He danced about joyously and said, "The mighty Sun will learn that he cannot play a trick on me and escape without punishment."
But while the Indian lad laughed and sang because he had caught the Sun in his noose the Animals were in deep trouble for there was no daylight in the world. They walked cautiously about, filled with fear and wonder.
"What has happened to the Sun? Has he strayed from his Sky-Path?" they whispered to each other.
After a while they discovered that the Sun was caught in a great noose and they called a Council in order to decide what to do.
"Of course we must free the Sun," said all the Animals, but when one of them asked how this could be done there was silence in the Council for a long time, because all the Animals knew about the Sun's great heat and feared to go near enough to break the cord.
At last the mole said, "I'll free the Sun. I'm not afraid. My teeth are very sharp and I'm sure they can gnaw through the cord of the noose."
Accordingly she crept near to the edge of the earth where the Sun was held fast. The heat was intense but the mole was determined not to give up her undertaking. She gnawed and gnawed, until the cord was cut in two. Then up into the sky sprang the Sun with a mighty bound. Before the Mole could run away, however, the Sun's white light shone full in her eyes, and from that day she has not been able to see very well. Her eyes are extremely small and are almost hidden by fur. That is why she lives in dark places and seldom comes out into the sunlight. But the Animals are all grateful to her and they often say, "It was the brave Mole who cut the Indian boy's noose which held the Sun."
***
It is only when you get to their diet does it begin to acknowledge a bit of the value of moles. "Moles are insectivores, eating 70-100% of their weight in worms, grubs and insects each day." Talking about their tunneling, an explanation is given, "In order to hunt down their ground-dwelling prey, moles constantly excavate, leaving behind a series of tunnels. This digging requires a tremendous amount of energy, which may explain the mole's voracious appetite."
Wolves and dogs certainly don't agree with the story's conclusion that "the Animals are all grateful to her" and love to dig them up and eat them.
Guess we must accept both the sun and the mole!
********
This is part of a series of postings of stories under the category, “Keeping the Public in Public Domain.” The idea behind Public Domain was to preserve our cultural heritage after the authors and their immediate heirs were compensated. I feel strongly current copyright law delays this intent on works of the 20th century. My own library of folklore includes so many books within the Public Domain I decided to share stories from them. I hope you enjoy discovering them.
At the same time, my own involvement in storytelling regularly creates projects requiring research as part of my sharing stories with an audience. Whenever that research needs to be shown here, the publishing of Public Domain stories will not occur that week. This is a return to my regular posting of a research project here. (Don't worry, this isn't dry research, my research is always geared towards future storytelling to an audience.) Response has convinced me that "Keeping the Public in Public Domain" should continue along with my other postings as often as I can manage it.
See the sidebar for other Public Domain story resources I recommend on the page “Public Domain Story Resources."
No comments:
Post a Comment