Now, the VOA Special English program American Stories. Our story iscalled The Animals Give Themselves from the book Cloudwalker by JoelMonture, published by Fulcrum Publishing. Mr. Monture is a NativeAmerican from the Mohawk nation. He has written stories about youngNative Americans who grow up in American cities and do not always knowa lot about their Indian traditions. Here is Faith Lapidus with thestory.
"Elizabeth..." Betty Tylen turned to her best friend Debby. "I hate itwhen my mother calls me Elizabeth. It always means I have to do somework." Betty made her music louder and two girls laughed. Betty andDebby are twelve years old and live in Fairbanks, Alaska. Together,they share schoolwork and movies and talk a lot. Betty is Koyucan, anAlaskan native nation. And Debby's ancestors came from England.
Missis Tylen came to Betty's room. "We are going home to our villagefor a potlatch." she told her daughter. "What is a potlatch?" askedDebby. "It is a big ceremony and meal." said Betty. "People cook foodand give away blankets. It is really silly." "Do I have to go?" sheasked her mother. "Yes, it is our responsibility." said her mother.
"We are flying out tomorrow morning."The next morning, Betty was flying in a small plane beside her mother.
"I really hate this." she said. "Why couldn't I stay with Debby?" Butwhen the plane landed, Betty was beginning to think the potlatch mightbe fun. She would see her uncle Vincent and aunt Molly, and visit withher cousins". But most important was that her father would be at thepotlatch. He was often away from home for months working with thetribe on environmental issues.
Uncle Vincent met them at the airport. He had a thick way of talkingand a missing tooth in a corner of his smile. Uncle Vincent was ahunter in the village. "How you folks been doing there, Fairbanks?" heasked as he drove his truck down a snowy road. They drove for almostan hour. Betty thought everything just looked frozen. But to hermother, it was the place where she had grown up. She showed Betty thebirds and other animals along the road.
Suddenly, uncle Vincent stopped the truck and looked into the bushes.
Missis Tylen watched too. But Betty could see nothing. Then, Betty sawa large moose whose breath made steam in the winter air. Uncle Vincentquickly reached for his gun and stepped out of his truck. Betty lookedat her mother. "He is not going to shoot the moose, is he?"Before her mother could answer, there was a loud sound from the gun.
Then, silence. Missis Tylen got out of the truck and stood besideVincent. Betty watched them talk softly. Then, her mother said, "Comeon, Betty. We have a moose." Betty said softly to her mother, "This isso horrible! I hate it! Why can't we just go?" But Missis Tylen puther finger to her lips as a sign to be quiet. A short way into thewoods, they came upon the moose lying on her side in the snow.
Betty watched as uncle Vincent touched different parts of the deadmoose praying quietly and offering thanks for the use of the animal.
Then, he stood up and said, "Betty, run up to the truck and bring backthe knives under the seat. Betty walked to the snow feeling unsure. Apotlatch was supposed to be fun. Now, here they were, in the middle ofthe forest was a dead moose. "Ahem..." she found the knives in thetruck and returned to where her mother and uncle were waiting. "Thisis so horrible." she said under her breath.
Uncle Vincent and Missis Tylen both took off their coats. It wasfreezing, but her mother did not seem cold. She took one of the knivesfrom Betty. "Mom?" asked Betty. "What? You do not know that I know howto cut the skin off a moose? I used to help my brothers all the time.
My mother and I took care of the skins and we smoked them to makecoverings for our feet and hands. When you were born, I used to giveyou a moose bone to chew on to help your baby teeth grow." She saidwith a laugh. "No way!" Betty protested.
As they worked late into the afternoon, Betty thought it was sostrange to see her mother working on the moose. Betty was used toseeing her mother working in an office wearing dresses and nice shoes,but not in the middle of the snow taking the skin off a moose. Whatelse didn't she know about her mother? When they were ready to leave,Betty saw that the woods did not seem quiet anymore. Black birdscalled ravens were circling high in the sky and cold wind was blowing.
As they drove along the snowy road, Betty thought to herself: Thisland was difficult. But her mother was a part of it because she knewthings. As they drove into the small village, Betty saw that therewere no big stores. This was the place her mother had been raised. AndBetty suddenly felt as though she did not know very much.
Uncle Vincent stopped by a small house at the far end of the village.
There were so many people inside. Betty did not remember any of them,but they seemed to know her. Betty was only a baby when she left. Andher relatives rubbed her cheeks in welcome. She smiled as they puttheir arms around her. Then, out of the crowd came her father, DavidTylen. He picked her up and cried, "Betty Wolf!" "Dad! Do not call methat!" she said. But she was still smiling. She put her arms aroundhim.
"We killed a moose for potlatch." Betty did not know where her wordscame from. But she sensed the importance of this group of familymembers. "You got a moose?" asked Betty's father. He smelt her andadded with a laugh, "You smell like a moose. Hey! You!"That night, Betty slept on blankets on the floor. She was so tiredfrom working in the woods with the moose. She dreamed that the moosetalked to her and said, "I give myself to you, so your people can eatand live." When she woke up, she thought her dream was real. Bettyfound her mother having a cup of coffee. "Mom, I had a dream." shesaid, "The moose was there and she told me her death was like a giftto us. I do not understand."Betty's mother held the warm cup of coffee in her hands and explained.
"No matter how far we travel from home, when we return, this is stillour land, the place we come from. This is a place of people, ravens,moose and so many other beings. The bird does not take more than itneeds, and people do not either. This is the balance of our world.
Your moose visited you to let you know that it was all right. She gaveup herself to feed your family because we honored her. And from that,you are learning to be honorable. You watch here how all this meatwill be shared. Everyone will be fed from your moose. That is life.'
Just then, Betty's father joined them. Her mother looked up andsmiled. "Betty dreamed about the moose." "Oh, I see." said Betty'sfather. "Would you feel better if I told you aunt Aster makes softshoes? She will make you a pair from your moose." Betty smiled,"Really?" Her father said, "Maybe we should all talk more about ourtraditions, so we do not forget them." "You are always gone." saidBetty. "Well, that could change." said her Dad, "I am moving back toFairbanks." Her mother jumped up and put her arms around him. "That iswonderful, David."The next day, Betty enjoyed the potlatch ceremony. All the peoplecooked big parts of meat and fried bread. Older members of the villagestood up to speak about the unity of the people. They offered prayersto the spirits and everyone ate. "I never ate so much in my life."Betty said to her mother. "My moose was very good."When Betty flew back to Fairbanks, she looked down at the land. Hermother's village looked like little dots on the snowy earth. Backhome, Betty was happy to see her friend Debby. "Look what I broughtyou. A pair of soft shoes! My aunt made them." Debby said, "I wish Icould go to a potlatch." Betty said, "Maybe next year, I will ask mymother if you can come. But if we shoot a moose, you have to help!"You have heard the Native American story The Animals Give Themselvesfrom the book Cloudwalker. It was written by Joel Monture and adaptedinto Special English by Carrion Legged. Your storyteller was FaithLapidus. The producer was Lawan Davis. Listen again next week at thistime for another American story in VOA Special English. I'm BobDoughty. |