Author: medicinewalkerbear

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“the Sacred Pipe’ as shared by bear Medicinewalker

sacred pipepost

Most of the Peoples Nations have stories about the ‘Sacred Pipe’. Many of you may think of it as a Peace Pipe. Hollywood has glamorized the pipe through old western movies. Yet they could not be farther from the truth.

Sacred Pipe is to the Native American People as the cross would be to Christian cultures. The pipe, in many forms is prevalent in most tribal cultures around the world. Every Nation has used the pipe in some form of ritual and have passed the stories of where the pipe came from. One of the more well known is the Lakota story of the White Buffalo Woman bringing and sharing wisdom’s with them.

It is not important how the pipe first arrived, or who it came to first. What is important is that the pipe is revered as a sacred item and was a gift handed to us by The Creator. The Sacred Pipe was brought to all people of this world, for we all must share this world, as one race …the Human race This story shows the importance once again of the Pipe as means to Prayer, Balance and healing.

At a time when the world was new, a tribe of red skinned people came to live on the lands around The Blue Smoke Mountains. This is a time animals of the world still spoke to all of us teaching us how to live and care for the land. These people were called “Ani Yun Wiya” or the One True People. In this tribe lived a brave warrior woman.

She was called ‘Arrow Woman’. As a young woman she was taught to use the bow, the spear and the knife. Even though it was a man’s job to hunt and fight, Arrow Woman could shoot straighter with the bow than any man. She could throw the knife so as split a branch no bigger than your thumb and she could throw the spear into eye of a hawk in flight. Because of all this, no one would tell her to act like a woman should within the tribe.

One day while on a hunt, Arrow Woman came upon the tracks of “Yona” the bear. She saw blood on the ground and knew him to be wounded, so she followed his tracks high into the mountains. Soon she came to a place that she did not know. It was at this place, a place known only to the animals that she finally saw “Yona” the bear. He had a deep gash in his side. As she watched him, he bowed down in prayer. She saw him bowing toward a large field of tall grass and speaking words that she had not heard before. Suddenly, the grass shimmered and became a lake. Arrow Woman saw “Yona” the bear, dive into the water. After a time he emerged from the water, his side was completely healed.

“Yona” the bear looked up and saw Arrow Woman walking towards her he spoke, “This is the sacred lake of the animals. It is called, ‘Atagahi’ and its location is known only to the animals. It is where we come for healing and strength. You are the first human to see the Sacred Lake. You must never tell your kind of it’s location for it is the home of ‘The Great Uktena’. After speaking to her “Yona” the Bear turned and walked into the woods and disappeared.

Arrow Woman sat and contemplated all that had occurred. Yet she was tired from following “Yona” all day and needed to rest a while. So she built a small fire next to the lake, and sitting down she began to prepare a meal that she had brought with her. She reached over and took a drink of the water from the lake as she did Arrow Woman felt instantly refreshed. Amazed, she felt strong as Yan’si the Buffalo, and as if she could run faster than Coga the Raven could fly. The woods were quiet, the Sacred Winds where sleeping, Father Sun was shining bright, the surface upon the lake was completely calm, Arrow Woman began to get sleepy.

It was at this time that ‘Uktena’ appeared to her. As a child she had been told of him yet no one in her tribe ever claimed to have seen him. High above the water he raised his great serpent’s head, the jewel in his forehead glistening. He began to move toward her. Arrow Woman grabbed up her spear and stood up to face the great creature coming to her, standing proud, showing no fear, the way any warrior should. She raised her spear and prepared to strike the huge beast.

Uktena stopped a short distance from her. He smiled at her, showing his fierce rows of teeth he began speaking to the brave woman on the bank of his lake, “Put down your weapons for I mean you no harm. I come only to teach.” Arrow Woman laid down her spear and began to relax, somehow knowing He spoke truly.

Uktena told her to sit and to listen. He then dipped his head below the surface and came back up a moment later. In his mouth he had a strangely crooked stick and a leather pouch. These things he laid on the ground in front of Arrow Woman. Then the teaching began.

“This that I have laid before you is the Sacred Pipe of The Creator. Pick up the pipe. The bowl is of the same red clay The Creator used to make your kind. The red clay is Woman kind and is from the Earth. Just as a woman bears the children and brings forth life, the bowl bears the sacred tobacco and brings forth smoke. The stem is Man. Rigid and strong the stem is from the plant kingdom and like a man it supports the bowl just as man supports his family.”

He then showed Arrow Woman how to join the bowl to the stem saying, ” Just as a man and a woman remain separate until joined in marriage so too are the bowl and stem separate. Never to be joined unless the pipe is used.” Uktena then showed her how place the sacred tobacco into the pipe and with an ember from the fire lit it so it burned slightly. He then spoke these words, “The smoke is the breath of The Creator, When you draw the smoke into your body, you will be cleansed and made whole. When the smoke leaves your mouth, it will rise to The Creator. Your prayers, your dreams, your hopes and desires will be taken to Him in the smoke. Also the truth in your soul will be shown to Him when you smoke the pipe. If you are not true, do not smoke the pipe. If your spirit is bad and you seek to deceive, do not smoke the pipe.”

Uktena continued his lesson well into the night teaching Arrow Woman all of the prayers used with the pipe and all of the reasons for using the pipe. He finished just as the moon was beginning her nightly journey across the sky in search of her true love. He told Arrow Woman to wrap the pipe in cloth, keeping the parts separate. With this done He told her that she would never again be able to find this place but to remember all that she had learned. He then returned to depths of the lake. Arrow Woman saw the water shimmer and become again the field of grass. She left, taking with her the pipe and her lessons and a wondrous tale. Ever since that time, the People have used the sacred pipe and never again has any man seen the sacred lake of Uktena.

The Sacred Pipe is not a symbol of things that are sacred. The Pipe itself is sacred. Not everyone is called upon to be a pipe bearer. The person who carries the pipe and practices the pipe ceremonies and traditions has a great responsibility to his brothers and sisters, his land and country and to the Great Earth Mother.

The pipe bearer does not ‘own’ the pipe that they carry. They simply carry the pipe until the time comes for them to pass it to the next bearer. The pipe bearer is given certain powers of sight from the pipe as well as an ability to heal and purify. Should the bearer fall from grace and become a liar, thief, neglected their duties when asked, or become deceitful, the pipe would repossess these gifts and then the possibility of misfortune for the former bearer may exist.

I ask that today and all days ahead, that we hear the words of this Pipe story, that like the pipe we honor and respect ourselves, treating tradition and ceremony as Sacred. That we understand our responsibilities that we carry as we walk. Accepting the great gift Creator has asked us to care for…our human selves.

So my wish to you all today is that you have heard the words I shared today, and it helps you to stop and think, we are all sacred…we have all been given a great gift and responsibility. Our human self is like the pipe that was shared with the Ancestors in time long ago…but that to this day it is to be considered Sacred. So treat yourselves with honor… with respect… for like the pipe…we do not ‘own’ this human vessel that holds our soul. It simply carries us our soul until the time comes for us to journey to the next realm.

Blessings,

bear Medicinewalker

 

bear medicinewalker2015sacredgoop

“Prayers from Within” by Award Winning Musician Jan Micheal Lookingwolf available at http://www.lookingwolf.com/

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The Cherokee Origin of Strawberries… as shared by bear Medicinewalker

strawberrystorycherokee
When the first man (a s ga ya) was created and a mate was shared with him, they lived together enjoying life and content with each other. After many seasons they began to change and often argued with each other. Finally the woman (a ge ya) left her husband and began walking east towards the Sunland (Nundagunyi).

The man decided to follow her trail, but was sad and lonely for he could not catch up with his wife as she continued ahead on her journey, never looking back. After awhile, the Creator took pity on him asking if he perhaps had lost his anger for her. The man replied he had indeed lost his anger. to which the Creator then asked if he would like to have her back again in his life. The answer came back a positive yes.

Soon the Creator looking down upon the woman, caused a patch of the finest ripe huckleberries to spring up along the path in front of her, but she passed by without paying any attention. He sat and gently thought what might catch her eye and soon placed a bush of blackberries on her path, still no response. So Creator continued placing other fruits, and then trees that were covered with beautiful berries beside the path to catch her attention, and still nothing happened.

Then suddenly she saw in front of her a patch of large ripe strawberries, the first ever known or seen. She stooped to gather a few to eat, as she picked them she turned her face to the west, and at once the memory of her husband came back to her and she found herself unable to continue her journey without him. She sat down and the longer she sat there, the stronger the desire to return to her husband. Gathering a bunch of the finest red strawberries she headed back towards her home and her husband. She soon met him on the path and they were both overjoyed at finding one another, apologizing and hugging each other until they gathered their things and headed back home.

Blessings,

bear Medicinewalker

 

Mama’s Love by Ryan Little Eagle

strawberriesbear

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Story of the Salmon as shared by bear Medicinewalker

salmonblogstory
A young girl, who was daughter to the chief sat crying. She cried because no one could give her what she wanted, a great shining fish. Neither her father, nor the wisest elders of the clan could give her the great shining fish, none of them had ever even seen such a fish. As his daughter continued to cry they soon discovered that she was making herself very ill, and soon because of it, the chief ordered a great council fire to be gathered.

All of the tribal elders and medicine people sat around the fire as the most respected of them began to speak. “The child cries for a thing which she has seen in her dream walks. Many fish have we in our great waters, but none resemble the one of which she speaks. This fish may prove to be good medicine for our tribe that is being sent by our Creator. He looked at those gathered around the fire, “Perhaps one of you may know where such a great gleaming strong fish with such medicine may be found.”

Only one of them stood turning to address his Chief and the council,”The Raven, who lives among the cedars, is my good friend. She is very wise and knows many things that the wisest among us know not. Allow me to return with her to this Council Fire, in order for her to share her wisdoms.”
They all agreed to this and the chief gave his permission. Soon the warrior gathered his things and traveled to the cedars to find his wise friend. Raven seated on his shoulder began to speak, but only the ones of true medicine could follow her words. “What the girl is asking for is the giant fish, known as Salmon. In this full moon, they can be found far from here at the mouth of a mighty river, which flows into the other side of the lakes here.. Because those of your clan are considered friends, I will fly swift and far to gather one of these fish and return it to your village.”

Before the counsel could thank her, the Raven was high in the air flying far and fast until her keen eyes saw far beneath her, many Salmon swimming together at the mouth of the river. The Raven dived quick as a hawk and, by chance caught the little son of the Salmon Chief in his talons. Rising high in the air, with the fish held firmly in her claws, the Raven flew toward the distant village of her friends.
Salmon Scouts that were leaping high from the water in great flashing arcs, saw the direction that the Raven was flying. A school of Salmon, led by their chief soon began to swim rapidly in pursuit. As quickly as the fish swam, the fast-flying raven reached the village far ahead of them where Raven placed the great fish before the little daughter of the chief, she smiled, and cried no more.

Then the Raven told the clan that many Salmon would be sure to swim into the river to the village in pursuit, to try and rescue the young Salmon which he had caught. They all decided to have the people of the clan to weave a huge net. This they did quickly so that when the Salmon came, all of the fish were caught in it. To hold them prisoner, a long, strong leather thong was passed through their gills. One end of the thong was tied to a big rock and the other end was fastened to this great totem pole, which then grew as a tall cedar.

Ever since, it has been called the ‘Nhe-is-bik’, or tethering pole. On this pole – a totem pole – there was carved a mighty Thunderbird, an Indian Chief, a Raven and a Salmon, carved in that order from the top of the great cedar pole. Year after year, from that time, the Salmon have passed on that side of the river and continue to this day. They are held as sacred with the people and the story continues to be shared.

Mitakuye O’yasin
~ bear Medicinewalker

Imago written and performed by Joseph Strider, more information on this and more of Joe’s music available at http://josephstrider.com/JosephStrider.html

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Indian Paintbrush … as shared by bear Medicinewalker

indian paintbrush bearAs an artist and photographer I often find myself out in nature, it has been this way since I was very young and will probably be so until I leave this earth. One of my favorite flowers since I was a child has been the small bright red/orange flower called Indian Paintbrush. So today I would like to share with you a story that my Grandfather who could always be found out in his flower garden when I was young, shared with me.

Long ago there was a young Indian Boy who was born crippled. He longed to play as young boys should, yet he could not. His legs did not work the way the other young boys of his age did. He could not ride the beautiful horses of the fields, nor could he run in the meadows with his Sisters and brothers.

His spirit was low. He felt useless as he watched his family go through their daily chores, unable to help. And he felt even more of a burden for they had to assist him with so many things he could not accomplish by himself. Soon with determination, he learned to fish if someone could carry him to the river. He also began to help his Mother grind the corn into flour. But he wanted to do more, much more.

One day in the late summer sun, his Mother decided that the family should go on a picnic. As they sat smelling the sweetgrass, listening to the winged ones, and watching the clouds dance in the sky, the young brave prayed to the Creator.

“Father,” he prayed. “Please show me how to be useful to my people. I cannot hunt for game or plant corn to feed them. I don’t do enough to help them. Please show me the path I am to walk.” He patiently waited to be shown an answer, yet none came. He was again saddened fearing that Creator felt he was not worthy of an honorable path.

After some time had passed, his Mother watched her son, and her heart hurt for this gentle boy. Hoping to change his mood she decided to return to the meadow to connect with the Great Mother in hopes something would change for her young Son.

When they arrived, they found something new among the tall sweetgrass. Growing in the clearing exactly where the Young Brave had called to Creator for a sign, grew a beautiful and unusual small red flower.

Turning his Mother he looked at her puzzled, “What kind of flower is this Mother?”

“I don’t know, I’ve never seen a flower like this before,” as she looked out in amazement at the field splashed with little flecks of red dancing in the gentle breeze. Be fore the day was done they gathered some of the flowers and took them back to the village, certain that one of their Elders would be able to tell them what it was. Still, no one recognized the flower at all.

Excited they returned to the meadow, and they looked out at the field and saw that the number of flowers had doubled. “They are so beautiful!” cried the young brave. “I just wish we knew what they were called.”

As the seasons passed, the Young Brave made many trips to the meadow. Each time he went, more of the red flowers could be found. One day, he decided to draw a picture of the flower in hopes of capturing its beauty. He carefully sketched the plant and found that he had captured its shape and detail. But he was not happy with the drawings.

As he sat there pondering what to do, a deer wandered into the meadow. It grazed on the sweetgrass occasionally looking up at the Young Brave as he kept drawing.

“What’s wrong Young One?” the deer asked. “Why do you look so sad?”

“I cannot capture the true color of this flower in my drawing. It is so beautiful, but the dye I make from our berries is too purple, and when I mix water with the red earth for paint, the color is too brown.”

“Why do you not just use the flower? Wouldn’t it make the red color for you?”

The Brave looked up at the deer in astonishment, “I never thought of that.” He reached down and picked up the flower, dipped it into the water and brushed it across his paper. To his amazement, what it left behind was the perfect shade of red coloring.

The brave took his picture back to the village and presented it to the Chief. It was perfect. They asked him how he get the coloring so perfect. “I used this,” and he showed them one of the flowers. “It’s like a paintbrush.”

“Then that is what we will call it,” the Chief declared. “It shall be The Red Indian Paintbrush.”

From that time on, it was called Indian Paintbrush, and only that. The Young Brave had found his path, becoming a remarkable craftsman, painting pictures, pottery, and other items and selling them to help his people attain the things they needed to flourish within the village. Donating the profits to those less fortunate than him, For he had come to realize that although he had no legs, he was still useful.

The Creator had indeed answered his prayers with a simple red flower called “Indian Paintbrush”

Blessings,

bear Medicinewalker

https://bearmedicinewalker.com/

Touching the Quiet Jeff Ball

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Grandmother Spider Steals the Sun

Grandmother Spider Steals the Sun

In the beginning there was only blackness, no one could see anything. People kept walking into each other and stumbling around blindly. Soon they gathered to discuss the problem, “What we all need is to be able to see.” They all agreed but were not sure what to do, they needed to find light.

Fox said he knew others on the other side of the world who had plenty of light, but they were too greedy to share it with anyone. Possum said he would be glad to steal a little of it. “I have a bushy tail, I could hide the light inside all that fur.” It was agreed and decided he could try to get some light for them all, so he set out for the other side of the world. There he found the sun hanging in a tree and lighting everything up. He quietly crept over to the sun taking from it a tiny piece of light and stuffing it into his tail. But the light was too hot and it burned all his fur. Soon the people discovered his theft and took back the light, and ever since, Possum’s tail has been bald.

“I will try,” said Buzzard. “I know better than to hide a piece of stolen light in my tail, I will place it on the top of my head.” He flew to the other side of the world and swooped straight into the sun seizing it with his claws. He then placed it on his head, where it proceeded to burn all his head feathers off. The people seeing him on fire and trying to steal what was theirs, grabbed the sun away from him, and ever since that time Buzzard’s head has remained bald.

Grandmother Spider said, “I will try!” So she set about the task of making a thick walled pot out of clay. Next she spun a web reaching all the way to the other side of the world. The fact that Grandmother Spider was so small, none of the people in the village of the sun even saw her coming. Quickly Grandmother Spider snatched up the sun and placed it in the bowl of clay carrying it back home along one of the strong strands of her web. Now her side of the world had light, and everyone rejoiced.

Grandmother Spider brought not only the sun to the Cherokee, but fire with it and she taught the Cherokee people the art of making pottery.

“I am Dedicated to Educating and sharing the Native culture with the World. It is not enough merely to teach the ways of our Elders. We must honor those traditions by sharing and educating the World. Inspiring others …Inspiring our Youth. Through the Music… the Arts…the stories…”
Mitakuye O’yasin
~bear Medicinewalker

bear dec 2015

“Join Me as I continue the Sacred Hoop Project into this Year 2016…the year of Truths!”

“Coyote Jump-Lightning Drum” available at http://www.canyonrecords.com

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The Story of the Cherokee Rose as shared by bear Medicinewalker

trailoftearsmountainfinal

“My father was David Israel, a full-blood Cherokee and my mother was Martha Jane Miller Israel, a quarter Cherokee. They were born in Georgia. My mother in 1836 and my father in 1837. They were brought to Indian Territory by their parents over the “Trail of Tears” when the Indians were driven from their eastern homes by the United States Troops. They were too young to know of the tragedies and sorrows of that terrible event. My aunt, who was 15 years old at the time, told me of the awful suffering along the journey. Almost everyone had to walk as the conveyance they had were inadequate for transporting what few possessions they had and their meager supply of food. Only the old people and little children were allowed to ride. They died by the hundreds and were buried by the roadside. As they were not allowed to remove any of their household goods, they arrived at their destination with nothing with which to start housekeeping.”
~ from Life and Experience of a Cherokee Woman

More than 100 years ago, the Cherokee people were driven from their home mountains when white men discovered gold in the mountains of Tears. Some of the people traveled across Marengo County in West Alabama. It would seems that they left the mountains and traveled far south so not have to climb more mountains.

It was early summer and very hot, and of the people had to walk. Tempers were short and the soldiers that were supposed to be traveling as guides were mean and relentless as they pushed the people towards their destination. Men were so frustrated with the treatment of their women and children. The soldiers were unhappy about the fact they had to travel with the Indians that often it was the women and children that would suffer for it. Men would get short tempered and angry, so often fights would break out and many men were killed in the process. Many people died from illnesses due to hardships. Women wept for their losses, their ways of life, homes and dignity. The Elders knew that they must do something to help the women to maintain their strength if they were to help the children survive.

One evening after everyone had made camp along the Trail of Tears, the old men sitting around the dying campfire called up to the Creator in Galunati (heaven) to help them all and bring hope and faith back to the people. They spoke and prayed for the people, for the suffering and the little ones they feared would not survive to rebuild the Cherokee Nation.

The Creator spoke to them, “Yes, I have seen the sorrows of the women and I can help them to keep their strength to help the children. Tell the women in the morning to look back where their tears have fallen to the ground. I will cause to grow quickly a plant. They will see a little green plant at first with a stem growing up. It will grow up and up and fall back down to touch the ground where another stem will begin to grow. I’ll make the plant grow so fast at first that by afternoon they’ll see a white rose, a beautiful blossom with five petals. In the center of the rose, I will put a pile of gold to remind them of the gold which the white man wanted when his greed drove the Cherokee from their ancestral home.”

The Creator explained that the green leaves would have seven leaflets, one for each of the seven clans of the Cherokee. This plant will begin to spread out all over, a very strong plant, a plant which will grow in large, strong clumps and it will take back some of the land they had lost. It will have small thorns on every stem to protect it from anything that tries to move it away.

The next morning the Elders told the women to look back for the sign from the Creator. So the women looked and found the plant beginning as a tiny shoot and growing up and up until it spread out over the land. They watched as a blossom formed so beautifully that they forgot to weep and they once again felt beautiful and strong. By the afternoon they saw many white blossoms as far as they could see. The women began to think about their strength given them to bring up their children as the new Cherokee Nation. They all understood that the plant marked the path of the brutal Trail of Tears and it would not be forgotten. The Cherokee women saw that the Cherokee Rose was strong enough to take back what they thought they had lost and renew their lives as Cherokee People once again.

 

Blessings

~ bear Medicinewalker

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the story of the First Flute…as told by bear Medicinewalker

First flute storyMany of you have heard Native Flutes, how their sounds can awaken a soul or tell a story. We can look and see how carefully they are made, all with a different stories or personalities of each. Within the Native Culture the Flute is known for music that sings a story of Love. In days gone by one would sit by themselves perhaps even lean on a great wise old tree for inspirations, or even in the darkness of the night skies with stars shining down upon them, creating their music to be shared as courting songs or love songs.

By nature most Indians are quiet, even the warriors who had fought wars, would find themselves trying to gather up the courage to speak to the one they loved. In the old days, couples were not allowed to be alone inside the village. The family dwellings where always filled with people yet it was not allowed to just walk hand in hand with someone you loved and were not married to. Often the only chance they had to met was at daybreak when the women of the tribe would journey to the river or brook with their skin bags to get waters edge to gather what was needed for the day. Then as they would appear, one would show them self long enough for the intended to see them and perhaps have a small exchange.

So it was that the song of the flute would have to speak for them. In the evening it was often heard as the soft night breezes would greet the night skies, magical and mystical sounds of the flute could be heard. Each having their own style of playing and each one intended for the heart of would know their love. If the Medicine of the song was right that night and strong between them, they could sneak out and meet each other for a short time going unnoticed.

The flute was traditionally made from cedarwood. In the shape it describes the long neck and head of a bird with a open beak. The sound comes out of the beak, and that’s where the legend comes in, the legend of how the Lakota people acquired the flute.

Once many moons ago the People had gourd rattles and drums but no flutes. During that time, a young warrior went out to hunt and that year the winter had been extremely harsh, so much so that fresh meat was scarce and the people were very hungry. Soon the young warrior came upon the tracks of an Elk. He tracked them for a long time excited as the Elk in tradition holds the key to the love charm. If one possesses Elk Medicine, the one he holds in his heart can’t stop thinking of them. This particular warrior had held no Elk Medicine as of yet so he was anxious. After many hours of tracking he finally reached the spot the elk were grazing. Being skilled with a bow and having just finished making a fine new one, a quiver full of straight, well-feathered, flint-tipped arrows he was ready. Yet the Elk always managed to stay just out of range, leading him on and on farther from his village. Soon having had followed the Elk so closely, he lost track of where he had gone and how far he had walked.

When night came, he found himself deep inside the woods where not only the tracks had disappeared but so had the Elk. The moon was covered with clouds and he realized that he was lost and it was too dark to find his way home. He stopped to get his bearings and saw he was near a stream with cool, clear water. He had been wise enough to bring along with him a dried meats and ground corn that would last a few days. So he drank and ate afterwards settling in for the night, wrapping himself in the warm hide of his pack. Yet rest did would come for the woods were full of strange noises, cries of night animals, owls and trees in the wind. They were familiar yet it was as if he heard these sounds for the first time.

Suddenly there was a entirely new sound, a kind he had never heard before. It was a mournful and filled with spirit, making him afraid. Drawing his robe tightly about himself, he reached for his bow to make sure that it was properly strung. He listened again, the sound was like a song, sad but beautiful, full of love, hope, and yearning. Then before he knew it, he was asleep. He dreamed and in his dream the bird called the redheaded woodpecker appeared singing the strangely beautiful song that spoke to him, so he followed it hoping he would receive teachings.

When the hunter awoke the sun was already high in the clouds and its warmth could be felt. On a branch of the tree against which he was leaning, he saw the redheaded woodpecker. The bird flew away to another tree, and another but never very far as it would look back all the time at the young warrior as if to say, “Follow me.” Then once more he heard that wonderful song and his heart yearned to learn the song. The bird kept flying leading the hunter towards the magical sound, as it darted through the the trees, its bright red top made him easy to follow. Finally it landed on a cedar tree and began pecking on a branch making a noise sounding like the fast beating of a Shaman’s drum. Then the winds blew bringing with it the beautiful sound that the warrior had heard right above his head.

Looking up he saw the woodpecker was tapping his beak. He realized also that it was the wind which made the sound as it whistled through the hole the bird had drilled. “Kola, (friend)” said the hunter, “let me take this branch home, you can make yourself another.” Carefully he broke the branch away from the tree, a hollow piece of wood full of woodpecker holes that was about the length of his forearm. Placing some tobacco at the foot of the tree he thanked both the bird and the Sacred Cedar tree for their gifts they had shared. He then headed back towards his village bringing back no meat from the hunt, but happy and smiling just the same.

Back in his lodge the young warrior tried desperately to make the branch sing for him, blowing on it, waving it in the air he sat frustrated for still no sound came. It made him sad for he wanted so much to hear that wonderful new sound. He went and sat in the sweat lodge, then climbing to the top of a nearby hill he sat and fasted for four days and nights praying for a vision to come and tell him how to make the branch sing. In the middle of the fourth night the little bird with the bright red top appeared and transforming itself to man teaching the hunter how to make the branch sing. Over and over he was shown how to play the branch, and in his dream the young warrior watched and observed very carefully.

When he awoke he went in search of the Sacred Cedar tree. He broke off a branch, laid tobacco at its roots in thanks for the gift it shared, and working many hours hollowed it out with a bowstring drill, just as he had seen the woodpecker do in his dream. He whittled the branch into the shape of the Woodpecker with its long neck and a open beak. He then painted the top of the birds head with the sacred red color. He then prayed, smudged himself and the branch sage, cedar, and sweet grass. He fingered the holes as he had seen the man-bird do in his vision and blew air softly into the mouthpiece. All at once there was the song, haunting and soulful beyond words drifting upon the breeze and back to his village. The people were amazed as they listened to the sound carry across the winds to their ears. With the help of the Sacred Winds and the little woodpecker, the young warrior had finally created the first flute.

Feel Free to share this and all the posts within my site!

“I am Dedicated to Educating and sharing the Native culture with the World. It is not enough merely to teach the ways of our Elders. We must honor those traditions by sharing and educating the World. Inspiring others …Inspiring our Youth. Through the Music… the Arts…the stories…”
Mitakuye O’yasin
~bear Medicinewalker

bear dec 2015

“Join Me as I continue the Sacred Hoop Project into this Year 2016…the year of Truths!”

“An Eagle’s Heart Song” from The Long Journey Home by Ryan Little Eagle. Released: 2012 and available at http://www.spiritwindrecords.us/ryan-little-eagle#!__master-page-122

 

 

 

 

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