Skinner - How the Sun Was Caught and Freed - Keeping the Public in Public Domain

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."

***

Surely people have a very different view of the mole from most animals. The picture of a mole comes from Havahart.com mole-facts. Havahart goes back to 1940 in offering humane traps of a wide variety of animals. The mole facts page opens by talking about how "Their digging habits notoriously destroy lawns, gardens and golf courses, frustrating home and business owners."

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!

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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 20^th 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."

 

Seton - The Snowstorm - Keeping the Public in Public Domain

As I write this the first real taste of winter's snow seems to be approaching. (It's timing during Thanksgiving travels is especially drawing the attention of meteorologists.) The founder of the Boy Scouts, Ernest Thompson Seton, in his book, Woodland Tales, offers stories and activities throughout the seasons. Yes, winter and snow get its share of attention. The book is almost over when he tells this tale of how a snowstorm is viewed by different cultures. 

In retelling this story I would substitute a few things to make them tell a bit more. I would say an Inuit from Alaska for "Eskimo" and would add "the Inuit word 'Siqniq' for him."  As for "an Indian", the talk of "Nana-bo-jou" shows it is a child who is an Anishinaabe.

 Photo by ak-girl on Freeimages.com

TALE 100
The Snowstorm

It was at the great winter Carnival of Montreal not long ago. Looking out of a window on a stormy day were five children of different races: an Eskimo, a Dane, a Russian, an Indian, and a Yankee. The managers of the Carnival had brought the first four with their parents; but the Yankee was the son of a rich visitor.

"Look," cried the little Eskimo from Alaska, as he pointed to the driving snow. "Look at the ivory chips falling! El Sol is surely carving a big Walrus tusk into a fine dagger for himself. See how he whittles, and sends the white dust flying."

Of course he didn't say "El Sol," but used the Eskimo name for him.

Then the Dane said: "No, that isn't what makes it. That is Mother Earth getting ready for sleep. Those are the goose feathers of her feather bed, shaken up by her servants before she lies down and is covered with her white mantle."

The little Indian, with his eyes fixed on the storm, shook his head gravely and said: "My father taught me that these are the ashes from Nana-bo-jou's pipe; he has finished his smoke and is wrapping his blanket about him to rest. And my father always spake true."

"Nay, you are all wrong," said the little Russian. "My grandmother told me that it is Mother Carey. She is out riding in her strongest, freshest steed, the White Wind. He has not been out all summer; he is full of strength and fury; he spumes and rages. The air is filled with the foam from his bridle, and froth from his shoulders, as she rides him, and spurs him, and rides him. I love to see it, and know that she is filling the air with strength and with messages. They carry me back to my own dear homeland. It thrills me with joy to see the whiteness."

But the Yankee boy said: "Why, it's just snowing."

*********

The story tends to end abruptly and should sit there, letting the many wonderful views contrast with the rich Yankee boy's view of  "it's just snowing." 

May your own views of the season include stories!

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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 20^th 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."

 

Indigenous Peoples' Day or Columbus Day?

 

boroughofwenonah.com

The second Monday in October is a Federal Holiday in the United States. The question of what it should be called, however, is a question that, for now, will be unsettled. Historyoftheholiday.com does an excellent job of discussing how the 20th century holiday, Columbus Day, has begun to transition to Indigenous Peoples' Day. 

I couldn't have said it better than that site explains it! 

Another well-written look specifically at Indigenous Peoples' Day is this is from the October Michigan D.A.R. newsletter:

Indigenous Peoples’ Day is October 13, 2025. It’s a great time to immerse yourself in the history and culture of Michigan’s 12 federally recognized tribes and 4 state recognized tribes. 

Visit a museum! These are just a few of Michigan’s museums offering excellent information on the rich histories and cultures of American Indians in our state; Ziibiwing Center in Mt. Pleasant, Besser Museum in Alpena, Andrew J. Blackbird Museum in Harbor Springs, Potawatomi Heritage Center in Wilson, Museum of Ojibwa Culture in St. Ignace. 

Attend a powwow! On October 13, 2025 go the Indigenous Peoples’ Day Powwow at Hart Plaza in Downtown Detroit – the first powwow hosted in 30 years! The powwow is open to the public and there will be dancing, singing, and plenty of delicious food. 

National American Indian Heritage Month starts on November 1^st. It is a month-long celebration and a time for education and awareness of the many contributions of American Indians in our country. The 2025 BIA theme for the month is “Weaving together our past, present and future”. ***

The month was formally designated inespecially 1990 by President George H. W. Bush, who proclaimed November as National American Indian Heritage Month. Legislation was signed in 2009 by President Barack Obama to permanently designate the Friday after Thanksgiving as Native American Heritage Day. 

This is a time to honor the diverse cultures, histories, and importance of American Indian communities, to educate the public about the challenges Indigenous people have encountered, and to acknowledge and support the many tribes in our country. 

*** Actually that was chosen for 2024. The Bureau of Indian Affairs has not chosen a theme for 2025 and the current government shutdown has https://www.bia.gov not being updated.

If you wonder which of the two is celebrated "offiffiffic'ally" where you are, the Pew Research Center has the answers including "Depending on where in the United States you live and for whom you work, Columbus Day may be a paid day off, an unpaid commemorative day, another holiday entirely or a regular Monday."

Looking at yet another site, academickids.com so well says: 

 While the two holidays have different focuses, they share a date and often spark discussions about history, exploration, and the importance of understanding multiple perspectives.

Of course I want to share the stories of our Michigan (and beyond into the Great Lakes Region, including up into Canada) People of the Three Fires (the Anishinaabe), the Ojibwe, Odawa, and Potawatomi. For now I will let the dust settle on this and wait until November.

Judd - Story of the Deluge - Keeping the Public in Public Domain

Some have complained that the poster of the picture of a happy Jesus welcoming girls from Camp Mystic is AI generated "exploiting the death of children using ai to gain internet clout by the original poster who is scamming the public!" I'm keeping it up on my Facebook page because, whatever its origins, it certainly fits the other side of this tragic flooding in Texas. 

I certainly recommend comparing today's story from the Anishinaabe tradition (gathered from the Minnesota area around the end of the 19th century) with the Bible's (Genesis chapters 6-9). It is said all the world's earliest traditions tell of a Great Flood. Mary Catherine Judd in Wigwam Stories not only tells "The Story of the Deluge", but includes photos from the era including a traditional wigwam used to travel to hunting grounds. Whether in such a temporary home or winter wigwam lodges, the people of the Great Lakes region did not live in tipis. It's easy to think of this story being told around a campfire. 

Chippewa Indian’s Summer Wigwam

Before beginning "The Story of the Deluge", the "hero" of this story has a name that changes slightly depending on local dialect. I know him as Nanabazhoo. Judd explains a bit about him when she says:

 The old myths of years ago are repeated in Indian homes, and many of the stories, like those told in the poem of Hiawatha, are familiar tales to little children in western teepees. Hiawatha the Wise we now know is an Iroquois hero; Menabozho, who is called the Foolish or Sly One, is an Algonquin hero, and they are two very different characters in the lore of two different Indian nations. Hiawatha the Iroquois is always dignified; Menabozho the Algonquin is very powerful but full of boyish tricks.

STORY OF THE DELUGE

(Chippewa, 1900)

enabozho, the great land manitou, did not like the water manitous or spirits. One day he saw the chief of the water manitous asleep on a rock, and he shot and killed him with a magic arrow; then the little water manitous called the big rivers to help them and chased Menabozho up a high hill.

The water reached halfway up the hill; the water manitous called all the little rivers then to help them. The water chased Menabozho to the top of the high hill. He climbed up a tall pine tree, but the water came up to his chin; it could not go over his head, for there is not water enough in the whole world to drown the great Menabozho.

He waited a long time while he stood on the top of the pine tree. The rivers would not go back, and he could not see any land.

A loon flew over his head and then dived into the great water. Menabozho said: “Brother Loon, come to me. I must make land for us to stand on. Will you dive down and bring me a little sand?”

The loon put down his head and went through the deep water, but it was too deep even for the great loon-bird. He came up again, but he had left his breath in the deep water. Menabozho caught him as he floated by the pine tree, but he found no sand in his bill nor on his feet.

An otter put his head out of the water close by Menabozho.

“Brother Otter, dive down and bring me up a few grains of sand. We must have land to put our feet upon.”

The otter knew he must do as Menabozho told him, so he put his head down into the deep water. He came up, but he had no life any more, and Menabozho could not find any sand in his paws.

A muskrat came swimming by just then. “Brother Muskrat, you are very brave. Will you dive down to the sand under this deep water and bring me a few grains? I must make land for my brothers,” said Menabozho.

The muskrat was brave, for he dived down, but he came up just like the otter. He had no more life, but he had a little sand in one front paw.

Menabozho held the sand in his own hand and dried it in the sunshine. He blew it with his breath far out on the water, and it made a little island. Menabozho called the sand back to him. He dried it in his hand again and then blew it to its place on the deep water. He did this for two days, and the island grew larger every time it was sent back. Menabozho left the tree and walked on the land.

He called to his brothers, who are the trees, animals, and everything on the land, to come and live on this land. The water had to go back to its place.

*******

While it is worthwhile to look at the Biblical and traditional roots of the Deluge story, I agree completely with Gary Struth about the recent devastating floods when he posted:

Mental health professionals have told us that the absolute worst way to lose a child is when the cause of death is sudden and violent. This horrific tragedy was BOTH.

Texans, Americans, and people around the world ... I encourage you to NOT FORGET the grieving families of Kerr County. Their pain and anguish will be long lasting. Please, pray for them. If you are able to give to their physical needs, I hope you'll do that. In this sad season, when they are weak, let us be strong, for them.

***************************** 

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 20^th 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."

 

Olcott - Why Wild Roses Have Thorns - Keeping the Public in Public Domain

With summer days being enveloped in clouds from the Canadian wildfires, it may be tempting to stay indoors. The very area where these fire originate has a story about a wildflower that sometimes catches us -- quite literally -- and how it came to have thorns.

Today's story is from the Saulteaux, also Anishinaabe, who spread out from here in the Great Lakes to western Canada. The tale itself is found in Frances Jenkins Olcott's The Red Indian Fairy Book. While the book title might seem disrespectful in today's terminology, her retelling fits perfectly with the way I've heard elders tell Anishinaabe tales. 

 

May the firefighters win their battle so we may safely enjoy the beauties of nature. As my friend, the elder Simon Otto, who has gone on the Long Walk, would say "May you Walk in Peace."

 

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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 20^th 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."

Cowles - Why the Wind Wails - Keeping the Public in Public Domain

The only rule for weather predictions for most locations is that it will change. . . and it definitely has!

We may not have received the nation's worst, but Michigan, especially the west and north, is bad enough. Erie Pennsylvania, your residents must love winter. Since winter and cold are my least favorite time of year, anybody there who doesn't love winter has my sympathy.

We had been having above normal weather and I was foolish enough to think that was a trend!

Julia Darrow Cowles and her book Indian Nature Myths hasn't been here in years -- their posting here spans from 2013 - 2017. That first story back in 2013 was before I found ways to reproduce pages better than a simple scan of my own books. That first story was her retelling of the Schoolcraft tale, "How the Seasons Came to Be." Definitely appropriate now. I suggest going to the book listed above at Project Gutenberg as the entire book is a treat for nature lovers.

Cowles notes the nations responsible for her stories, often the Anishinaabe (listing as Ojibwa or Chippewa) but several, including today's story, are merely attributed to the Algonquian. Our area's native people are part of that larger group and stories do travel. For more about the Algonquian peoples go to that link to understand this most populous and widespread North American indigenous North American group. Cowles briefly mentioned such story traveling in her Preface.

Wind chills have made the weather transition particularly brutal, so this Algonquin story is on my mind as the wind howls or it invisibly tries to beat me.

WHY THE WIND WAILS

(Algonquin)

WHEN the pale moon looks down from the sky, and when the wind cries mournfully around the wigwam, this is the story that the old man of the tribe tells to the Indian children:

Many, many moons ago the great chief of our tribe had a very beautiful daughter.

“She shall marry a great warrior,” said the Chief, “and a mighty hunter. Then she will be well cared for, and I shall be happy.”

So the great Chief kept watch of the young men of the tribe, to see which one would prove worthy of his daughter.

One day, as the Chief sat in the door of his lodge, there came a sudden rushing sound, and a young man stood before him. It was the Wind, who had made himself visible that he might talk with the Chief.

When he had saluted, he said, “Great Chief, I love your daughter. May I carry her away to my lodge, and make her my wife?”

The Chief looked at the Wind, and he answered, “No. My daughter is not for such as you. You are no warrior. You are no hunter. You love to play pranks. You cannot marry my daughter.”

So the Wind went away sorrowing, for he loved the Indian maiden.

The next day the maiden came to her father and said, “Father, I love the Wind better than any young warrior of our tribe. May I go to his lodge, and be his wife?”

The Chief looked at his daughter and said, “No. The Wind is no mate for you. He is no warrior. He is no hunter. He loves only to play pranks. You cannot marry him.”

The maiden went away sorrowing, for she loved the Wind.

The next day when the maiden went out to gather sweet marsh grass for her basket weaving, she heard a sudden rushing sound above her head. She looked up, and as she looked the Wind swept down and carried her in his arms far away to his lodge.

There they lived happily together, for the maiden became his wife. But the great Chief was full of wrath. He hunted through all the land for the lodge of the Wind, but he could not find it for many moons. Still he would not give up the search, for his heart was hot with wrath.

One day the Wind heard a great crashing sound among the trees near his lodge, and his heart stood still.

“It is your father,” he cried, and he hid the Chief’s daughter in a thicket, while he made himself invisible, that he might stay close beside her.

The great Chief looked inside the lodge of the Wind, but he found it empty. Then he went through the brush, striking to right and left with his heavy club, and calling, “My daughter: my daughter!”

And when the Wind’s wife heard her father’s voice, she answered, “Oh, my father, strike not! We are here.”

But before her words could reach him, the Chief swung his great club once more, and it fell upon the head of the invisible Wind, who, without a sound, dropped unconscious upon the ground. And because he was invisible, neither the Chief nor his daughter knew what had happened.

Then the Chief took his daughter in his arms and hastened back to his tribe. But each day she grew more and more sorrowful, and longed for her husband, the Wind.

For many hours the Wind lay unconscious beside his lodge. When he awakened, the Chief and his daughter had gone. Sorrowfully he set out in search of his wife. He traveled to her father’s tribe, and there at last he found her. But she was in a canoe with her father, far out upon the lake.

Then the Wind cried, “Come to me, my loved one,” and his voice swept out over the water.

The Chief said, “The winds are blowing,” but his daughter knew her husband’s voice. She could not see him, for he was still invisible, but she lifted herself up in the canoe and stretched out her hands toward the shore. As she did so a breeze stirred the water, and the canoe overturned.

The Chief’s daughter threw up her arms, and the Wind tried to catch her in his embrace, but he was too late. The Great Spirit bore her far up into the sky, and there he gave her a home where she would live

“THE WIND TRIED TO CATCH HER IN HIS EMBRACE”

The great Chief was drowned in the waters of the lake.

Night after night his daughter looks down upon the earth, hoping for a sight of her lost lover. But though the Wind still roams about the earth in search of his bride, he has never, since the Chief’s blow fell upon his head, had the power to become visible to men.

And now you will understand why the voice of the Wind is so mournful as it wails about the wigwam; and why the Moon Maiden’s pale face is always turned downward toward the earth.

***

The book ends with another Algonquin wind tale, "Keepers of the Winds", but it's best saved for a warmer time. 

For my fellow storytellers I want to repeat Cowles' note that appeared right before the stories: 

Before reading or telling the Indian Nature Myths to the children, it is best to explain that just as they love to wonder and imagine about the new and strange sights and sounds of the world, so the early races of men, the children of time, loved to wonder and imagine. And so these stories of nature grew out of their imaginings; and some of the stories are so beautiful, and some of them are so odd, that men have repeated them from one generation to another, ever since,—for even when they no longer believed them to be true, they loved them.

Other anthologies title this story "Bride of the Wind." Florence Holbrook's The Book of Nature Myths and Mary F. Nixon-Roulet's Indian Folk Tales  are two Public Domain books with that title.

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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 20^th 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 “PublicDomain Story Resources."

Otto - Rainbow Legend / Summer Reading "Rainbow of Stories"

This is Native American Heritage Month, with the official day of observance as November 15th. At the same time I've been building my plans for the Collaborative Summer Library Program theme of "Color Our World."

I've prepared A Rainbow of Stories, including songs, an Anansi tale from Africa (told with an Anansi puppet), a Puerto Rican tale of Juan Bobo, the Haitian audience participation tale of Tippingee, as well as a tale the audience will create, and...

a Native American tale from Michigan's own Odawa/Ottawa (People of the the Three Fires known as the Anishinaabe) as recorded by Simon Otto. Nanaboozhoo is the legendary Anishinaabe hero and prankster with magical powers (other spellings and pronunciations exist) and Mukawgee is his dog. Together in the early days when Mother Earth was still growing, they set many things in motion that still exist today.

Simon has gone on The Long Walk, but I'm grateful for his friendship and permission to share the stories he recorded of the Anishinabek. I know his life's mission was to help us all appreciate them. As the title of the book with this story says: Walk in Peace!

I found it interesting that Native American Heritage Month celebrates this rich cultural traditions through the theme of "Rock Your Mocs." The heart of the celebration is taking place from November 10th to 16th, but I will gladly wear my moccasins not only this month, but this summer as a powerful symbol of unity and respect for the ancestors and the diverse cultures that enrich our communities.

Walk in Peace!

Mclaughlin - The Wonderful Turtle - Keeping the Public in Public Domain

If you live in a suburban or rural area, are you prepared to meet turtles?  These ancient creatures aren't surviving our population the way coyotes, foxes, raccoon, skunks, and opposums are.  Those creatures have adapted in many ways, but turtles move slower and also require a water habitat.  At this time of the year you might expect to see a slow moving turtle on the road.  I've had this experience twice so far this year.  

Photo by Luca Ambrosi on Unsplash

If the turtle is small enough you can use your car's floor mat to slide under the turtle and move him to the side of the road he wanted to reach.  For bigger turtles, be careful!  Assume it's a Snapping Turtle capable of biting off your finger!  This is where it's a good idea to have a shovel in your car beyond winter.  It keeps you away from those jaws and still lets you move the turtle where he wanted to go.  (It's also useful for moving opossums still alive, but foolish enough to "play possum" in the middle of the road.)

As might be expected, Wikipedia has an article on the turtle with way more information than you probably want to read, but it's worth prowling, especially this section on Conservation:

 Among vertebrate orders, turtles are second only to primates in the percentage of threatened species. 360 modern species have existed since 1500 AD. Of these, 51–56% are considered threatened and 60% considered threatened or extinct.^[144] Turtles face many threats, including habitat destruction, harvesting for consumption, the pet trade,^[145][146] light pollution,^[147] and climate change.^[148] 

Skipping the section on Asian turtles, it continues with

As of 2021, turtle extinction is progressing much faster than during the Cretaceous-Tertiary extinction. At this rate, all turtles could be extinct in a few centuries.^[150]

Since one of the two turtles I saw was a red-eared slider turtle, I found this part of the Conservation article interesting

 Native turtle populations can also be threatened by invasive ones. The central North American red-eared slider turtle has been listed among the "world's worst invasive species", pet turtle having been released globally. They appear to compete with native turtle species in eastern and western North America, Europe, and Japan.^[161][162]

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Red-eared_slider

That type of turtle is also mentioned in the section on Turtles as Pets

Some turtles, particularly small terrestrial and freshwater species, are kept as pets.^[187][188] The demand for pet turtles increased in the 1950s, with the US being the main supplier, particularly of farm-bred red-eared sliders.

Keep your pet turtle home!

Unfortunately the section about turtles "In Culture" and also "As Food and Other Uses" omits the turtle's importance to Native Americans.

I went looking and found Mrs Marie L. Mclaughlin heard stories while growing up among the eastern Sioux of Minnesota. She recorded them for posterity in 1916 in Myths and Legends of the Sioux. In her Foreword she states she is one-quarter Sioux, dating back to her maternal Scottish grandfather and her grandmother, Ha-za-ho-ta-win, who was a full-blooded member of the Medawakanton Band of the Sioux Tribe of Indians.  She "was born December 8, 1842, at Wabasha, Minnesota, then Indian country, and resided thereat until fourteen years of age, when I was sent to school at Prairie du Chien, Wisconsin." 

She further explains

Having been born and reared in an Indian community, I at an early age acquired a thorough knowledge of the Sioux language, and having lived on Indian reservations for the past forty years in a position which brought me very near to the Indians, whose confidence I possessed, I have, therefore, had exceptional opportunities of learning the legends and folk-lore of the Sioux.

The stories contained in this little volume were told me by the older men and women of the Sioux, of which I made careful notes as related, knowing that, if not recorded, these fairy tales would be lost to posterity by the passing of the primitive Indian.

The book is dedicated

In loving memory of my mother,
MARY GRAHAM BUISSON,
at whose knee most of the stories
contained in this little volume
were told to me, this book is
affectionately dedicated

Personally I find this story is also particularly interesting in its view of the Sioux (or Dakota/Lakota) and the Chippewa (Ojibwe/Anishinaabe), one of Michigan and Canada's Native People.

The name Sioux came from the Anishinaabe word for their old enemies the "Nadouessioux", meaning "little snakes."  Is it any wonder they prefer being called Dakota or Lakota which means "friend" or "ally"?  Some of those 18th century battles are a major part of this story.

THE WONDERFUL TURTLE

Near to a Chippewa village lay a large lake, and in this lake there lived an enormous turtle. This was no ordinary turtle, as he would often come out of his home in the lake and visit with his Indian neighbors. He paid the most of his visits to the head chief, and on these occasions would stay for hours, smoking and talking with him.

The chief, seeing that the turtle was very smart and showed great wisdom in his talk, took a great fancy to him, and whenever any puzzling subject came up before the chief, he generally sent for Mr. Turtle to help him decide.

One day there came a great misunderstanding between different parties of the tribe, and so excited became both sides that it threatened to cause bloodshed. The chief was unable to decide for either faction, so he said, “I will call Mr. Turtle. He will judge for you.”

Sending for the turtle, the chief vacated his seat for the time being, until the turtle should hear both sides, and decide which was in the right. The turtle came, and taking the chief’s seat, listened very attentively to both sides, and thought long before he gave his decision. After thinking long and studying each side carefully, he came to the conclusion to decide in favor of both. This would not cause any hard feelings. So he gave them a lengthy speech and showed them where they were both in the right, and wound up by saying:

“You are both in the right in some ways and wrong in others. Therefore, I will say that you both are equally in the right.”

When they heard this decision, they saw that the turtle was right, and gave him a long cheer for the wisdom displayed by him. The whole tribe saw that had it not been for this wise decision there would have been a great shedding of blood in the tribe. So they voted him as their judge, and the chief, being so well pleased with him, gave to him his only daughter in marriage.

The daughter of the chief was the most beautiful maiden of the Chippewa nation, and young men from other tribes traveled hundreds of miles for an opportunity to make love to her, and try to win her for a wife. It was all to no purpose. She would accept no one, only him whom her father would select for her. The turtle was very homely, but as he was prudent and wise, the father chose him, and she accepted him.

The young men of the tribe were very jealous, but their jealousy was all to no purpose. She married the turtle. The young men would make sport of the chief’s son-in-law. They would say to him: “How did you come to have so flat a stomach?” The turtle answered them, saying:

“My friends, had you been in my place, you too would have flat stomachs. I came by my flat stomach in this way: The Chippewas and Sioux had a great battle, and the Sioux, too numerous for the Chippewas, were killing them off so fast that they had to run for their lives. I was on the Chippewa side and some of the Sioux were pressing five of us, and were gaining on us very fast. Coming to some high grass, I threw myself down flat on my face, and pressed my stomach close to the ground, so the pursuers could not see me. They passed me and killed the four I was with. After they had gone back, I arose and lo! my stomach was as you see it now. So hard had I pressed to the ground that it would not assume its original shape again.”

After he had explained the cause of his deformity to them, they said: “The Turtle is brave. We will bother him no more.” Shortly after this the Sioux made an attack upon the Chippewas, and every one deserted the village. The Turtle could not travel as fast as the rest and was left behind. It being an unusually hot day in the fall, the Turtle grew very thirsty and sleepy. Finally scenting water, he crawled towards the point from whence the scent came, and coming to a large lake jumped in and had a bath, after which he swam towards the center and dived down, and finding some fine large rocks at the bottom, he crawled in among them and fell asleep. He had his sleep out and arose to the top.

Swimming to shore he found it was summer. He had slept all winter. The birds were singing, and the green grass and leaves gave forth a sweet odor.

He crawled out and started out looking for the Chippewa camp. He came upon the camp several days after he had left his winter quarters, and going around in search of his wife, found her at the extreme edge of the village. She was nursing her baby, and as he asked to see it, she showed it to him. When he saw that it was a lovely baby and did not resemble him in any respect, he got angry and went off to a large lake, where he contented himself with catching flies and insects and living on seaweed the remainder of his life.

****

May you play your part in keeping Turtle off the road and contentedly catching flies and insects and living on seaweed the remainder of his hopefully long life.

*************************** 

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 new stories.  

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.

Other Public Domain story resources I recommend-

• There are many online resources for Public Domain stories, maybe none for folklore is as ambitious as fellow storyteller, Yoel Perez's database, Yashpeh, the International Folktales Collection.  I have long recommended it and continue to do so.  He has loaded Stith Thompson's Motif Index into his server as a database so you can search the whole 6 volumes for whatever word or expression you like by pressing one key. http://folkmasa.org/motiv/motif.htm

• You may have noticed I'm no longer certain Dr. Perez has the largest database, although his offering the Motif Index certainly qualifies for those of us seeking specific types of stories.  There's another site, FairyTalez claiming to be the largest, with "over 2000 fairy tales, folktales, and fables" and they are "fully optimized for phones, tablets, and PCs", free and presented without ads.
  Between those two sites, there is much for story-lovers, but as they say in infomercials, "Wait, there's more!"

The email list for storytellers, Storytell, discussed Online Story Sources and came up with these additional suggestions:        

         - David K. Brown - http://people.ucalgary.ca/~dkbrown/stories.html

         - Karen Chace - http://karenchace.blogspot.com/search?q=public+domain

         - Richard Martin - http://www.tellatale.eu/tales_page.html

         - Spirit of Trees - http://spiritoftrees.org/featured-folktales

         - Story-Lovers - http://www.story-lovers.com/ is now only accessible through the Wayback Machine, described below, but the late Jackie Baldwin's wonderful site lives on there, fully searchable manually (the Google search doesn't work), at https://archive.org/ .  It's not easy, but go to Story-lovers.com snapshot for December 22 2016  and you can click on SOS: Searching Out Stories to scroll down through the many story topics and click on the story topic that interests you.

       - Tim Sheppard - http://www.timsheppard.co.uk/story/storylinks.html

       - World of Tales - http://www.worldoftales.com/ 

 
           - Zalka Csenge Virag - http://multicoloreddiary.blogspot.com doesn't give the actual stories, but her recommendations, working her way through each country on a continent, give excellent ideas for finding new books and stories to love and tell.

     
You're going to find many of the links on these sites have gone down, BUT go to the Internet Archive Wayback Machine to find some of these old links.  Tim's site, for example, is so huge probably updating it would be a full-time job.  In the case of Story-Lovers, it's great that Jackie Baldwin set it up to stay online as long as it did after she could no longer maintain it.  Possibly searches maintained it.  Unfortunately Storytell list member, Papa Joe is on both Tim Sheppard's site and Story-Lovers, but he no longer maintains his old Papa Joe's Traveling Storytelling Show website and his Library (something you want to see!) is now only on the Wayback Machine.  It took some patience working back through claims of snapshots but finally in December of 2006 it appears!

Somebody as of this writing whose stories can still be found by his website is the late Chuck Larkin - http://chucklarkin.com/stories.html.  I prefer to list these sites by their complete address so they can be found by the Wayback Machine, a.k.a. Archive.org, when that becomes the only way to find them.

You can see why I recommend these to you. 

Have fun discovering even more stories

Woodson - How the Dog Became the Friend of Man - Keeping the Public in Public Domain

This week I said a final goodbye to the best dog ever!

He had been a family member since the autumn of 2011.  For now I can only say I'm sure our pets must go to heaven or it wouldn't be heavenly there without them!

Do I have stories about him?  You bet I do, but for now I'm not ready to share them.  I also am not ready again to become a "fur-ever" home, but plan to foster senior malamutes.  If I can't resist going further, it will become obvious, but for now this wonderful dog is truly the best dog I've ever had the blessing to know.

I wanted to find a story to memorialize him and thought instantly of Simon Otto's "Dog Legend" in his book, We Walk in Peace.  I tried unsuccessfully to find it again in other Anishinaabe anthologies from the Public Domain.  Simon didn't choose stories to share that are well-known.  He did choose to share them with me.  Since he,too, has gone on the Long Walk (probably with a dog or dogs by his side) I have tried unsuccessfully to contact his heirs (his wife, Mary?) for permission to reprint his works.  Perhaps this is a call to try further.  All of his books are now out-of-print, but can probably be found by searching.  I have them all, complete with his encouragement to share them.  If you go looking, all his books are stories of the Anishinaabek except for Aube Na Bing; A Pictorial History of Michigan Indians and even there he slips in three legends.  "Aube na bing" means "looking back" and I look back on the ways he helped me and others appreciate this part of our state's too often missed culture, a culture that reached across the border to nearby members of Canada's First Nations.  I also remember he was criticized for sharing some stories considered "sacred."  Eventually that criticism died down, possibly recognizing the value of his sharing, but I never notice his name in the listing of important Ojibway.  I did, however, discover an excellent article in the "Petoskey News-Review" where he had a column for several years called "Talking Leaves."  The pair of interviews it contains show much about this storyteller who ended his stories with the message of "Walk in Peace."

Since I was unable to find a way to include the Anishinaabe legend of how the dog came to live with people, I wound up further away with Carter Woodson's African Myths and Proverbs.  Doctor Carter Godwin Woodson, deserves recognition for his own cultural work.  Woodson became the second African American, after W. E. B. Du Bois, to obtain a PhD degree from Harvard University. Woodson is the only person whose parents were enslaved in the United States to obtain a PhD in history.  An American historian, author, journalist, he was one of the first scholars to study the history of the African diaspora, including African-American history.  In 1926, Woodson pioneered the celebration of "Negro History Week, which of course is now Black History Month.  He split his attention between the U.S. and its African origins.  Here is his story of "How the Dog Became the Friend of Man", but there is no identification of its source beyond saying in the anthology's subtitle "Folk Tales from Various Parts of Africa."  

***

No doubt the story was repeated again and again throughout earliest history all over the world.  Dogs truly are "Man's best friend."

*******************

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 new stories.  

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.

Other Public Domain story resources I recommend-

• There are many online resources for Public Domain stories, maybe none for folklore is as ambitious as fellow storyteller, Yoel Perez's database, Yashpeh, the International Folktales Collection.  I have long recommended it and continue to do so.  He has loaded Stith Thompson's Motif Index into his server as a database so you can search the whole 6 volumes for whatever word or expression you like by pressing one key. http://folkmasa.org/motiv/motif.htm

• You may have noticed I'm no longer certain Dr. Perez has the largest database, although his offering the Motif Index certainly qualifies for those of us seeking specific types of stories.  There's another site, FairyTalez claiming to be the largest, with "over 2000 fairy tales, folktales, and fables" and they are "fully optimized for phones, tablets, and PCs", free and presented without ads.
  Between those two sites, there is much for story-lovers, but as they say in infomercials, "Wait, there's more!"

The email list for storytellers, Storytell, discussed Online Story Sources and came up with these additional suggestions:        

         - David K. Brown - http://people.ucalgary.ca/~dkbrown/stories.html

         - Karen Chace - http://karenchace.blogspot.com/search?q=public+domain

         - Richard Martin - http://www.tellatale.eu/tales_page.html

         - Spirit of Trees - http://spiritoftrees.org/featured-folktales

         - Story-Lovers - http://www.story-lovers.com/ is now only accessible through the Wayback Machine, described below, but the late Jackie Baldwin's wonderful site lives on there, fully searchable manually (the Google search doesn't work), at https://archive.org/ .  It's not easy, but go to Story-lovers.com snapshot for October 22 2016  and you can click on SOS: Searching Out Stories to scroll down through the many story topics and click on the story topic that interests you.

       - Tim Sheppard - http://www.timsheppard.co.uk/story/storylinks.html

       - World of Tales - http://www.worldoftales.com/ 

 
           - Zalka Csenge Virag - http://multicoloreddiary.blogspot.com doesn't give the actual stories, but her recommendations, working her way through each country on a continent, give excellent ideas for finding new books and stories to love and tell.

     
You're going to find many of the links on these sites have gone down, BUT go to the Internet Archive Wayback Machine to find some of these old links.  Tim's site, for example, is so huge probably updating it would be a full-time job.  In the case of Story-Lovers, it's great that Jackie Baldwin set it up to stay online as long as it did after she could no longer maintain it.  Possibly searches maintained it.  Unfortunately Storytell list member, Papa Joe is on both Tim Sheppard's site and Story-Lovers, but he no longer maintains his old Papa Joe's Traveling Storytelling Show website and his Library (something you want to see!) is now only on the Wayback Machine.  It took some patience working back through claims of snapshots but finally in December of 2006 it appears!

Somebody as of this writing whose stories can still be found by his website is the late Chuck Larkin - http://chucklarkin.com/stories.html.  I prefer to list these sites by their complete address so they can be found by the Wayback Machine, a.k.a. Archive.org, when that becomes the only way to find them.

You can see why I recommend these to you. 

Have fun discovering even more stories