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I bid you Welcome to our campfire as well, Katja!

A learned Elder was known to state that there are NO "stupid questions". For how else are we to learn? A question that burns within us must surely have water splashed upon it, eh? *grin*

For at least two weeks I have had many problems with this site.
Some of my own silly doings, others not. But now that I am here, I do want to add much wood to our fire because it looked to be burning much too dimly. It would sadden me deeply to see it go out completely!

I went to DawnEagle asking for help and, with a grin on my face, told her that she had "stole" the exact story that I was most anxious to post.....for I raise butterflies! Monarchs mostly, but others as well.

This has been a poor year for butterflies for me. For I have yet to see the first one in my yard. I worry about this and yet have no explanation. Last year my "babies" numbered well over a hundred. And yet, I shall never tire of experiencing the miracle of a lowly chrysalis becoming a beautiful creature of the Great Spirit's doing.

I find that I am out of time here, so I would pass the "talking stick" onto others. Let us keep the fire burning bright, dear friends.

ka dish day.
nayeli,
kimi kaya

Hello to all my campfire friends. I've been having problems with the site, too. The upgrades have made a big difference. Thank you to whomever is responsible for that.

Oh Kimikaya! You raise butterflies? My grandaughter's name is Camama Usti...little butterfly. How do you raise butterflies? Do you have butterfly boxes? I notices there havent been so many this year, too and I think it might be for the same reason that the honey bees are disappearing. Radio or microwaves. I don't know which the cell phones use, but its messing with the poor creatures' ability to navigate. It's been really hot here; drought like conditions so there havent been many flowers here for the butterflies.

How do we fix our dear Mother? When I see beauty dying like the bees and butterflies my heart breaks. The other day I had gone to the grocery and when I went in I noticed a perfect (black swallow tail, maybe?) butterfly holding onto the base of some patio furniture. It was a miserably hot day....no water or flowers anywhere....nowhere for it to go but into the parking lot. I decided that if it was still there when I came out of the store, I would gather it up (people around here think I'm totally looney....I don't care) and take it back to work with me. There are fields all around and I figured it would be more comfortable there. It was still there when I came out...so I gathered it up and took it with me. When I got to work I moistened some paper towels, thinking it might drink from it and I placed that onthe ground next to the only flower I could find. There were 2 big purple clover flowers in the field, so I placed my beautiful butterfly on one of them. she clung to it and I didn't know what to do next. she didn't seem interested in eating. I watched for a while, but had to go back to work. She was perfect. Wings werent tattered....she just didn't seem to have any energy. Hope I did the right thing. I figured she would know I tried to help her.

Do you have butterfly flower gardens? What do you plant?

Must take care of my evening responsibilities,
blessings to all
Conni

KatjaP,
Kimikaya is right....there are no stupid questions. Don't be afraid to ask....nobody here will make fun of you. We'll do as best we can to answer. DawnEagle is a walking encyclopedia. Very wise woman.
Conni

You are much too kind, Conni. I can only share what I have been taught, and give thanks to all my teachers, even those amongst us here...hint hint! heehee!

Much love to all. I have returned from my sojourn in the Gila National Forest, where I saw quite a few Monarchs, and have gained new inspiration for us all. There are places in this world still, where nature reigns. This is a true sign of hope for us all.

I will tell you more about my trip a little later on. Right now, I have some pressing business about the Cheyenne Elders in Oklahoma, and am posting it in a new thread. I hope you'll check it out.

As to the forum, I am told it has all been fixed, and I, too, am very grateful. Still, if anyone has problems, never hesitate to contact me.

My next scheduled trip will be a day trip over Labor Day weekend to Santa Domingo Pueblo for the Arts and Crafts fair, so I will not be away for long.

Keep the campfire burning brightly, and welcome to all who join us here. I will be back as soon as I can, to tell you more about my venture into the wilderness.

Much love and many hugs to all,

I am in the mood for a story today, even though it is a little early yet for bedtime stories, I need it today! I just came across this one, and surprisingly, it is Cheyenne, and a very powerful tale. I hope you enjoy it as much as I did!

Arrow Boy

Cheyenne

Arrow Boy, the wonderful boy, gives a magic performance still enacted during Sioux Yuwipi ceremonies, in which the medicine man is tied up with a rawhide thong and covered with a star blanket (formerly a buffalo robe) while eerie lights flicker and invisible rattles and strange voices are heard.
The pottery-making Pueblos have another version of this tale that they call the legend of the Water- Olla Boy.

****

After the Cheyenne had received their corn, and while they were still in the north, a young man and woman of the tribe were married.
The woman became pregnant and carried her child in the womb for four years. The people watched with great interest to see what would happen, and when the woman gave birth to a beautiful boy in the fourth year, they regarded him as supernatural. Before long the woman and her husband died, and the boy was taken in by his grandmother, who lived alone.

He learned to walk and talk very quickly. He was given a buffalo calf robe and immediately turned it inside out so that the hair side was outward, the way medicine men wore it.
Among the Cheyenne there were certain medicine men of extraordinary wisdom and supernatural powers. Sometimes they would come together and put up a lodge. Sitting in a large circle, they chanted and went through curious rituals, after which each man rose and performed wonders before the crowd.

One of these magic dances were held when the boy was about ten. He made his grandmother ask if he could take part, and the medicine men let him enter the lodge.
"Where do you want to live?" the chief of the medicine men asked, meaning "Where do you want to sit?"

Without ceremony the boy took his seat beside the chief. To the man who had ushered him in, the child gave directions to paint his body red and draw black rings around his face, wrists, and ankles.
The performance began at one end of the circle. When the boy's turn came, he told the people what he was going to do. He used sweet grass to burn incense. Then he passed his buffalo sinew bowstring east, south, west, and north through the smoke. He asked two men to assist him and told them to tie his bowstring around his neck, cover his body with his robe, and pull at the ends of the string.

They pulled with all their might, but they could not move him. He told them to pull harder, and as they tugged at the string, his head was severed. It rolled out from under the robe, and the men put it back.
Next the men lifted the robe up. Instead of the boy, a very old man was sitting in his place.
They covered the old man with the robe and pulled it away again, this time revealing a pile of human bones with a skull.
A third time they placed the robe over the bones and lifted it. Nothing at all was there.
But when for a fourth time they spread the robe over the empty space and removed it, the wonderful boy sat in his place as if nothing had happened.

After the magic dance, the Cheyenne moved their camp to hunt buffalo. When a kill had been made, the wonderful boy led a crowd of boys who went hunting for calves that might return to the place where they last saw their mothers. The boys found five or six calves, surrounded them, and killed a two-year-old with their arrows.
They began to skin it very carefully with bone knives, keeping the hide of the head intact and leaving the hooves on, because the wonderful boy wanted the skin for a robe.

While they worked, a man driving a dog team approached them. It was Young Wolf, head chief of the tribe, who had come to the killing ground to gather what bones had been left.
He said,
"My children have favored me at last! I'll take charge of this buffalo; you boys go on off."

The children obeyed, except for the wonderful boy, who kept skinning as he explained that he wanted only the hide for a robe. The chief pushed the wonderful boy aside, but the boy returned and resumed skinning.
Then the chief jerked the boy away and threw him down. The boy got up and continued his work. Pretending that he was skinning one of the hind legs, he cut the leg off at the knee and left the hoof on.

When the chief shouldered the boy out of the way and took over the work, the wonderful boy struck him on the back of the head with the buffalo leg.
The chief fell dead.
The boys ran to the camp and told the story, which caused great excitement. The warriors assembled and decided to kill the wonderful boy.

They went out to look for him near the body of their chief, but the boy had returned to camp. He was sitting in his grandmother's lodge while she cooked food for him in an earthen pot, when suddenly the whole tipi was raised by the warriors.
Quickly the wonderful boy kicked the pot over, sending the contents into the fire. As the smoke billowed up, the boy rose with it. The old woman was left sitting alone.
The warriors looked around and saw the boy about a quarter of a mile away, walking off toward the east. They ran after him but could not seem to draw closer. Four times they chased him with no success, and then gave up.

People became afraid of the wonderful boy. Still, they looked for him everyday and at last saw him on top of a nearby hill. The whole camp gathered to watch as he appeared on the summit five times, each time in a different dress.
First he came as a Red Shield warrior in a headdress made out of buffalo skin. He had horns, a spear, a red shield. and two buffalo tails tied to each arm.
The second time he was a Coyote warrior, with his body painted black and yellow and with two eagle feathers sticking up on his head.
The third time he appeared as a Dog Men warrior wearing a feathered headdress and carrying an eagle-bone whistle, a rattle of buffalo hoof, and a bow and arrows.
The fourth time he was a Hoof Rattle warrior. His body was painted, and he had a rattle to sing by and a spear about eight feet long, with a crook at one end and the shaft at the other end bent in a semicircle.
The fifth time his body was painted white, and on his forehead he wore a white owl skin.

After this the wonderful boy disappeared entirely. No one knew where he went, people thought him dead, and he was soon forgotten, for the buffalo disappeared and famine came to the Cheyenne.
During this time the wonderful boy traveled alone into the highest ranges of the mountains. As he drew near a certain peak, a door opened in the mountain slope.

(read "The Gold Of The Gods" by Erich Von Daniken, - such door actually exists! - Even though Von Daniken talks a lot of [censored] desperately trying to prove that "aliens" exist, nevertheless - his archeological discoveries are still rocking the many foundations of what we have held to be "world history", and completely tears it to pieces,..
but you have to be strong minded enough to ignore his mad ramblings and read on!
Might this also be the reference made by the Sioux as to where the buffalo disappeared when they "went inside a mountain"?
Note that almost ALL tribes have legends of a mountain or mountains with a "door" in it - that leads to other places. It, and some of the connecting tunnels - some of which are literally HUNDREDS of miles long, extend underground to various places all over South America, and may also be the place to which Moctezuma alluded, when he told his people to take the remaining gold to other lands by going "inside the mountains", after the Spanish broke their promises, and then later killed him,...
they never did solve the mystery though, of where such enormously huge quantities of gold disappeared to in such a short time!!!).

He passed through into the earth, and the opening closed after him. There inside the mountain he found a large circle of men. Each represented a tribe and was seated beneath that tribe's bundle.

They welcomed the wonderful boy and pointed out the one empty place under a bundle wrapped in fox skin.
"If you take this seat, the bundle will be yours to carry back to the Cheyenne," the head man said. "But first you will remain here four years, receiving instruction in order to become your tribe's prophet and counselor."
The wonderful boy accepted the bundle, and all the men gave thanks.
When his turn came to perform the bundle ceremony, they took it down and showed him its sacred ceremonies, songs, and four medicine arrows, each representing certain powers.

Then for four years under the mountain peak, they taught him prophecies, magic, and ceremonies for warfare and hunting.
Meanwhile the Cheyenne were weak with hunger, threatened by starvation. All the animals had died, and the people ate herbs.

One day as the tribe was traveling in search of food, five children lagged behind to look for herbs and mushrooms.
Suddenly the wonderful boy, now a young man bearing the name of Arrow Boy, appeared before them.
"My poor children, throw away those mushrooms," he said. "It is I who brought famine among you, for I was angry with your people when they drove me from their camp. I have returned to provide for you; you shall not hunger in the future. Go and gather some dried buffalo bones, and I will feed you."

The children ran away and picked up buffalo bones, and the wonderful boy, Arrow Boy, made a few passes that turned them into fresh meat. He fed the children with fat, marrow, liver, and other strengthening parts of the buffalo. When they had eaten all they wanted, he gave them fat and meat.

"Take this to your people," he said. "Tell them that I, Motzeyouf, Arrow Boy, have returned."
Though the boys ran to the camp, Motzeyouf used magic to reach it first. He entered the lodge of his uncle and lay down to rest, for he was tired. The uncle and his wife were sitting just outside, but they did not see Arrow Boy pass by.
The boys arrived in camp with their tale, which created great excitement. The uncle's wife went into the lodge to get a pipe, and it was then that she saw Arrow Boy lying covered with a buffalo robe. The robe, and his shirt, leggings, and his moccasins, all were painted red. Guessing that he was Motzeyouf, the men went into the lodge, asked the stranger to sit up, and cried over him.

They saw his bundle, and knowing that he had power, they asked him what they should do. Motzeyouf told the Cheyenne to camp in a circle and set up a large tipi in the center.
When this had been done, he called all the medicine men to bring their rattles and pipes. Then he went into the tipi and sang the sacred songs that he had learned. It was night before he came to the song about the fourth arrow.

In the darkness the buffalo returned with a roar like thunder. The frightened Cheyenne went in to Arrow Boy and asked him what to do.
"Go and sleep," he said, "for the buffalo, your food, has returned to you."
The roar of the buffalo continued through the night as long as he sang. The next morning the land was covered with buffalo, and the people went out and killed all they wanted. From that time forth, owing to the medicine arrows, the Cheyenne had plenty to eat and great powers.

- Retold from a tale reported by George A. Dorsey in 1905.

*****

Note:
The medicine arrows brought down from the mountains by Motzeyouf still exist and are cared for by the Arrow Keeper of the Southern Cheyenne in Oklahoma.

Good Morning le mita cola,

What a great story, DawnEagle! I was so surprised to learn that the arrows do, in fact, exist. Thank you for sharing.

I would like to add a little something here today. It's a poem that I recently came across and enjoyed. It is written by Rex A. Begaye who is a wonderful Native American artist.

WITH MY EYES CLOSE

An afternoon on a late summer's day,
High above the trees,
I can see a distant away.
Silently listening to whispering breeze.
Watching varied colors vanishing into the sunset.
Feeling the sensation of thoughts,
Nevertheless, on a dream that is predetermined.
Prior to,
Undeveloped adventures accrues,
Challenged with fascination of what is unperceived.
Irresistible powers have forcefully invaded,
Achieving to accomplish life in its realism.
Slowly, I have chosen to close my eyes
And emphasized what was moral and immoral.
Enthusiastically with desire, I was awakened.
A thrusting vision,
Tunneling through my mind.
Dysfunctional, impaired of time,
Was interfered in a split second.
I was deceived of a mysterious enchantment.
Focusing to proceed without being irrational,
I have motivated and reflected myself.
Idealizing to illustrate the predetermined dream
Where I have journeyed beyond,
As though I had premeditated what has been forbidden.
Intemperance of life,
Overpowered achiever, a philosopher, an elder,
Who puts out his arms, opens his hands.
Drops of rain accumulated
With emphatic sound of thundering.
Bright flashing of lighting in an instant.
Again! I was awakened.
There I was looking down from above.
The night had set in shimmering lights from below,
From the city, streets and moving cars.
What was real, what was not real.
Close your eyes.
It is your choice of a predetermined dream.

Until another time, I leave you with,
wakan tanan kici un,
Hugs,
kimi kaya

What a beautiful poem, Kimikaya, thank you for sharing.

I'm just popping in to let everyone know that I am off to Santo Domingo Pueblo today for their annual arts & crafts fair. This is what my article will be about this week. I'll tell you a little about it all when I return.

In the meantime, everyone have a fun and safe Labor Day Weekend!

Hello again from Finland
I just wondered what wolf meening for Native Americans.
I think that it is very captivating animal.
Could I lear powwow? And how that would be easiest way to learn.
Or is that ok?
Is there some stories and poems that I could translate in finnish and maybe give every finnish to read that?
Have Native Americans lots of pets? How you give names for they?
Maybe here is few childish question for you.

Hello Katja,

I think you have asked a wonderful question! For I don't really know either just what a wolf has meant to Native Americans, especially in the past.

I agree they are captivating. And, for me, a wolf is mysterious and beautiful. I have an "adopted" wolf. Meaning she does not live with me but lives in a sanctuary in California. This is a wonderful organization that cares for wolves that would normally be abandoned or killed.

My "Mireya" (which means naughty girl) is described as knowing she is beautiful and can get her way with her sweet eyes! *grin* She loves to have her tummy rubbed and loves people. I do hope to meet her in person when we next travel to California.

I have a Persian Cat who does not have a NA name (Nikita MorningStar), but I do have NA dolls. And, of course, they Must be named! I choose names by thinking what the personality would be like if they were "real". I think it would be much the same with pets. For each animal does have a distinct personality.

Here are two links with many legends and stories that you may enjoy and be able to translate. And what a wonderful idea that is!

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Hello there!

Katja, I hope Kimikaya has answered some of your questions. The story links are both good ones, and they each have a ton of stories on their sites. Some good ones are posted above too.

Have you ever been to a pow wow Katja? I think that would be the best way to learn, would be to find someone at a pow wow to teach you. I realize that will be hard for you, being in another country, but maybe you can find something around your area, even if it is a drumming circle. I will check into our resources for you on this.

So much that I want to tell you about Wolf, but only time for one story today, so I will do more for you every day. Here is the first:

I Am The Wolf

I am the wolf, a loner at heart.
You are the human, and will rarely if ever see me.
I roam the wilderness forests and
mountains of this earth that we share.
I mate for survival, as you do
and I help my mate raise our pups in the warmth of our den,
nurturing and watching them grow and play,
as you do with your human young.

We run as a pack family,
and our members are as close as those in yours.
When a member is lost, we grieve, but go on,
just as you do.
When I am hungry, I must hunt for myself and my family,
for that is all I know.

There are no stores to cater to my every need.
Some of you have said that I am a killer,
a cold-blooded hunter of death,
but when I kill, it is to feed my family,
and I only take the old, sick, and weak,
who will die regardless.
I don't kill to hang heads for trophies on my walls,
as you do.

Now I am the hunted, by you.
You are afraid of me, because you don't understand me.
You think I am taking from your herds of plenty,
which you advertise to
big game hunters for their tourist dollars.
Yes, you are afraid of me, but I can't hurt you.
You are the one with the power to destroy my kind.
You set your traps to torture me,
and send your helicopters to kill me from the air.

I cannot fight you, for that is not my way
That is yours.
I only want my freedom
to run, live, and sing to the moon.
I will share this earth with you in peace
as long as you let me.
I am the Wolf

~ Author Unknown ~

Thanks to my friend LoneWolf for sharing this one!

Have a blessed day,