FBI Interferes With Exhibit Of Work By Native American Artist Leonard Peltier

FBI Interferes With Exhibit Of Work By Native American Artist Leonard Peltier

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MEDIA ADVISORY FOR IMMEDIATE RELEASE

FBI interferes with exhibit of work by the renowned Native American artist Leonard Peltier

An art exhibit commemorating National Native American Month at the state Department of Labor and Industries building, Tumbwater, Washington, is being dismantled in response to complaints received from law enforcers.

“This is overt government censorship and it’s unconstitutional,” said Peter Clark, co-director of the International Leonard Peltier Defense Committee.

“Former agents of the FBI, joined by State police officers, have imposed their personal views on the citizens of the State of Washington. It’s ironic that in celebration of Native American Month, the government is suppressing freedom of expression by a Native American. But everyone should be alarmed by this occurrence. Once you allow the censorship of an artist by government, you give it the power to censor everyone.”

Those opposing the installation of the artwork were not offended by the content…

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Crossing the Red Sea

Many thousands of years ago the Cheyenne inhabited a country in the far north, across a great body of water. For two or three years they had been overpowered by an enemy that outnumbered them.

They were about to become the enemy’s slaves, and they were filled with sorrow.

Among their number was a great medicine-man who possessed a wooden hoop, like those used in the games of to-day. On one side of the hoop were tied magpie feathers, while opposite them, on the other side of the hoop, was a flint spear head, with the point projecting toward the center of the hoop. One night the great chief told the people to come to a certain place.

When they were assembled he led them away. He kept in advance of them all the time, and in his left hand he held a long staff, and in his right hand he held his hoop horizontally in front of him, with the spear head of the hoop pointing forward. No one was allowed to go in front of him. On the fourth night of their journey they saw, at some distance from the ground, and apparently not far in front of them, a bright light. As they advanced the light receded, and appeared always a little farther beyond. They traveled a few more nights, and the fire preceded them all the way, until they came to a large body of water. The medicine-man ordered the Cheyenne to form in a line along the edge of the water, and they obeyed. He then told them that he was going to take them across the water to another land, where they would live forever. As they stood facing the water the medicine-man asked them to sing four times with him, and he told them that as they sang the fourth time he would lead them across the water.

As he sang the fourth time he began to walk forwards and backwards and the fourth time he walked directly into the water. All the people followed him. He commanded them not to look upward, but ever downward. As they went forward the waters separated, and they walked on dry ground, but the water was all around them. Finally, as they were being led by night the fire disappeared, but they continued to follow the medicine-man until daylight, when they found themselves walking in a beautiful country.

In the new country they found plenty of game to live on. The medicine-man taught the Cheyenne many things, but they seemed to be of weak minds, though they were physically strong. Out of these Cheyenne there sprang up men and women who were large, tall, strong, and fierce, and they increased in number until they numbered thousands.

They were so strong that they could pick up and carry off on their backs the large animals that they killed. They tamed panther and bear and trained them to catch wild game for them to eat. They had bows and arrows, and were always dressed in furs and skins, and in their ignorance they roamed about like animals. In those days there were very large animals. One variety of these animals was of the form of a cow, though four times as large; by nature they were tame and grazed along the river banks; men milked them.

Boys and men to the number of twenty could get upon their backs without disturbing them. Another variety of these large animals resembled in body the horse, and they had horns and long, sharp teeth. This was the most dangerous animal in the country. It ate man, had a mind like a human being, and could trail a human being through the rivers and tall grasses by means of its power of scent. Of these there were but few. In the rivers there were long snakes whose bodies were so large that a man could not jump over them.

The Cheyenne remained in the north a long time, but finally roamed southward, conveying their burdens by means of dogs. While they were traveling southward there came a great rain and flood all over the country. The rivers rose and overflowed, and still the rain kept falling. At last the high hills alone could be discerned. The people became frightened and confused.

On a neighboring hill, and apart from the main body of the Cheyenne, were a few thousand of their number, who were out of view, and had been cut off from the main body by the rising water. When the rains ceased and the water subsided the part who were cut off looked for their tribesmen, but they found no sign of them; and it has ever since been a question among the Cheyenne whether this band of people was drowned, or whether it became a distinct tribe.

Long afterward the Cheyenne met a tribe who used many of their words, and to-day they believe that a part of their people are still living in the north. Nearly all the animals were either drowned or starved to death. The trees and fruit upon which the people had formerly subsisted were destroyed. A few large gray wolves escaped with them, for they had crossed with the tame dogs. The dogs were so large that they could carry a child several miles in a day.

After the flood had subsided the senses of the Cheyenne seemed to be awakened. They became strong in mind but weak in body, for now they had no game to subsist on. They lived on dried meat and mushrooms, which sustained them for a long time.

Legend Credit:
A Cheyenne Legend
Dorsey, Field Museum:
Anthropological Series, ix, 37, No. 15

Photo Credit:

The Shooting of Red Eagle

A man in buckskins sat upon the top of a little hillock. The setting sun shone bright upon a strong bow in his hand. His face was turned toward the round camp ground at the foot of the hill. He had walked a long journey hither. He was waiting for the chieftain’s men to spy him.

Soon four strong men ran forth from the center wigwam toward the hillock, where sat the man with the long bow. “He is the avenger come to shoot the red eagle,” cried the runners to each other as they bent forward swinging their elbows together. They reached the side of the stranger, but he did not heed them.

Proud and silent he gazed upon the cone-shaped wigwams beneath him. Spreading a handsomely decorated buffalo robe before the man, two of the warriors lifted him by each shoulder and placed him gently on it. Then the four men each took a corner of the blanket and carried the stranger, with long proud steps, toward the chieftain’s teepee. Ready to greet the stranger, the tall chieftain stood at the entrance way. “How, you are the avenger with the magic arrow!” said he, extending to him a smooth soft hand. “Hau, great chieftain!” replied the man, holding long the chieftain’s hand.

Entering the teepee, the chieftain motioned the young man to the right side of the doorway, while he sat down opposite him with a center fire burning between them.

Wordless, like a bashful Indian maid, the avenger ate in silence the food set before him on the ground in front of his crossed shins. When he had finished his meal he handed the empty bowl to the chieftain’s wife, saying, “Mother-in-law, here is your dish!” “Han, my son!” answered the woman, taking the bowl.

With the magic arrow in his quiver the stranger felt not in the least too presuming in addressing the woman as his mother- in-law. Complaining of fatigue, he covered his face with his blanket and soon within the chieftain’s teepee he lay fast asleep.

“The young man is not handsome after all!” whispered the woman in her husband’s ear. “Ah, but after he has killed the red eagle he will seem handsome enough!” answered the chieftain.

That night the star men in their burial procession in the sky reached the low northern horizon before the center fires within the teepees had flickered out. The ringing laughter which had floated up through the smoke lapels was now hushed, and only the distant howling of wolves broke the quiet of the village. But the lull between midnight and dawn was short indeed.

Very early the oval-shaped door-flaps were thrust aside and many brown faces peered out of the wigwams toward the top of the highest bluff. Now the sun rose up out of the east. The red painted avenger stood ready within the camp ground for the flying of the red eagle.

He appeared, that terrible bird! He hovered over the round village as if he could pounce down upon it and devour the whole tribe.

When the first arrow shot up into the sky the anxious watchers thrust a hand quickly over their half-uttered “Hinnu!”

The second and the third arrows flew upward but missed by a wide space the red eagle soaring with lazy indifference over the little man with the long bow. All his arrows he spent in vain.

“Ah! my blanket brushed my elbow and shifted the course of my arrow!” said the stranger as the people gathered around him.

During this happening, a woman on horseback halted her pony at the chieftain’s teepee. It was no other than the young woman who cut loose the tree-bound captive! (see The Tree-bound)

While she told the story the chieftain listened with downcast face. “I passed him on my way. He is near!” she ended.

Indignant at the bold impostor, the wrathful eyes of the chieftain snapped fire like red cinders in the night time. His lips were closed. At length to the woman he said: “How, you have done me a good deed.” Then with quick decision he gave command to a fleet horseman to meet the avenger.

“Clothe him in these my best buckskins,” said he, pointing to a bundle within the wigwam. In the meanwhile strong men seized Iktomi and dragged him by his long hair to the hilltop. There upon a mock-pillared grave they bound him hand and feet. Grown-ups and children sneered and hooted at Iktomi’s disgrace. For a half-day he lay there, the laughing-stock of the people.

Upon the arrival of the real avenger, Iktomi was released and chased away beyond the outer limits of the camp ground.

On the following morning at daybreak, peeped the people out of half-open door-flaps. There again in the midst of the large camp ground was a man in beaded buckskins. In his hand was a strong bow and red-tipped arrow.

Again the big red eagle appeared on the edge of the bluff. He plumed his feathers and flapped his huge wings.

The young man crouched low to the ground. He placed the arrow on the bow, drawing a poisoned flint for the eagle.

The bird rose into the air. He moved his outspread wings one, two, three times and lo! the eagle tumbled from the great height and fell heavily to the earth. An arrow was stuck in his breast! He was dead!

So quick was the hand of the avenger, so sure his sight, that no one had seen the arrow fly from his long bent bow. In awe and amazement the village was dumb. And when the avenger, plucking a red eagle feather, placed it in his black hair, a loud shout of the people went up to the sky.

Then hither and thither ran singing men and women making a great feast for the avenger.

Thus he won the beautiful Indian princess who never tired of telling to her children the story of the big red eagle.

Legend Credit:A Lakota Legend Zitkala Sa, Old Indian Legends, 1901

Photo Credit:

The Bound Children

There once lived a widow with two children; the elder a daughter and the younger a son. The widow went in mourning for her husband a long time. She cut off her hair, let her dress lie untidy on her body and kept her face unpainted and unwashed. There lived in the same village a great chief. He had one son just come old enough to marry. The chief had it known that he wished his son to take a wife, and all of the young women in the village were eager to marry the young man. However, he was pleased with none of them.

Now the widow thought, “I am tired of mourning for my husband and caring for my children. Perhaps if I lay aside my mourning and paint myself red, the chief’s son may marry me.”

So she slipped away from her two children, stole down to the river and made a bathing place thru the ice. When she had washed away all signs of mourning, she painted and decked herself and went to the chief’s teepee. When his son saw her, he loved her, and a feast was made in honor of her wedding.

When the widow’s daughter found herself forsaken, she wept bitterly. After a day or two she took her little brother in her arms and went to the teepee of an old woman who lived at one end of the village. The old woman’s tumble down teepee was of bark and her dress and clothing were of old smoke-dried tent cover. But she was kind to the two waifs and took them in willingly.

The little girl was eager to find her mother. The old woman said to her: “I suspect your mother has painted her face red. Do not try to find her. If the chief’s son marries her she will not want to be burdened with you.”

The old woman was right. The girl went down to the river, and sure enough found a hole cut in the ice and about it lay the filth that the mother had washed from her body. The girl gathered up the filth and went on. By and by she came to a second hole in the ice. Here too was filth, but not so much as at the previous place. At the third hole the ice was clean.

The girl knew now that her mother had painted her face red. She went at once to the chief’s teepee, raised the door flap and went in. There sat her mother with the chief’s son at their wedding feast.

The girl walked up to her mother and hurled the filth in her mother’s face. “There,” she cried, “you who forsake your helpless children and forget your husband, take that!”

And at once her mother became a hideous old woman.

The girl then went back to the lodge of the old woman, leaving the camp in an uproar. The chief soon sent some young warriors to seize the girl and her brother, and they were brought to his teepee. He was furious with anger.

“Let the children be bound with lariats wrapped about their bodies and let them be left to starve. Our camp will move on,” he said. The chief’s son did not put away his wife, hoping she might be cured in some way and grow young again.

Everybody in camp now got ready to move; but the old woman came close to the girl and said, “In my old teepee I have dug a hole and buried a pot with punk and steel and flint and packs of dried meat. They will tie you up like a corpse. But before we go I will come with a knife and pretend to stab you, but I will really cut the rope that binds you so that you can unwind it from your body as soon as the camp is out of sight and hearing.” And so, before the camp started, the old woman came to the place where the two children were bound. She had in her hand a knife bound to the end of a stick which she used as a lance. She stood over the children and cried aloud, “You wicked girl, who have shamed your own mother, you deserve all the punishment that is given you. But after all I do not want to let you lie and starve. Far better kill you at once and have done with it!” and with her stick she stabbed many times, as if to kill, but she was really cutting the rope.

The camp moved on; but the children lay on the ground until noon the next day. Then they began to squirm about. Soon the girl was free, and she then set loose her little brother. They went at once to the old woman’s hut where they found the flint and steel and the packs of dried meat.

The girl made her brother a bow and arrows and with these he killed birds and other small game.

The boy grew up a great hunter. They became rich. They built three great teepees, in one of which were stored rows upon rows of parfleche bags of dried meat.

One day as the brother went out to hunt, he met a handsome young stranger who greeted him and said to him, “I know you are a good hunter, for I have been watching you; your sister, too, is industrious. Let me have her for a wife. Then you and I will be brothers and hunt together.”

The girl’s brother went home and told her what the young stranger had said. “Brother, I do not care to marry,” she answered. “I am now happy with you.” “But you will be yet happier married,” he answered, “and the young stranger is of no mean family, as one can see by his dress and manners.”

“Very well, I will do as you wish,” she said. So the stranger came into the teepee and was the girl’s husband.

One day as they were in their tent, a crow flew overhead, calling out loudly, “Kaw, Kaw, They who forsook the children have no meat.”

The girl and her husband and brother looked up at one another.

“What can it mean?” they asked. “Let us send for Unktomi (the spider). He is a good judge and he will know.”

“And I will get ready a good dinner for him, for Unktomi is always hungry,” added the young wife.

When Unktomi came, his yellow mouth opened with delight at the fine feast spread for him. After he had eaten he was told what the crow had said.

“The crow means,” said Unktomi, “that the villagers and chief who bound and deserted you are in sad plight. They have hardly anything to eat and are starving.”

When the girl heard this she made a bundle of choicest meat and called the crow. “Take this to the starving villagers,” she bade him.

He took the bundle in his beak, flew away to the starving village and dropped the bundle before the chief’s teepee. The chief came out and the crow called loudly, “Kaw, Kaw! The children who were forsaken have much meat; those who forsook them have none.” “What can he mean?” cried the astonished villagers.

“Let us send for Unktomi,” said one, “he is a great judge; he will tell us.” They divided the bundle of meat among the starving people, saving the biggest piece for Unktomi.

When Unktomi had come and eaten, the villagers told him of the crow and asked what the bird’s words meant.

“He means,” said Unktomi, “that the two children whom you forsook have teepees full of dried meat enough for all the village.”

The villagers were filled with astonishment at this news. To find whether or not it was true, the chief called seven young men and sent them out to see. They came to the three teepees and there met the girl’s brother and husband just going out to hunt (which they did now only for sport).

The girl’s brother invited the seven young men into the third or sacred lodge, and after they had smoked a pipe and knocked out the ashes on a buffalo bone the brother gave them meat to eat, which the seven devoured greedily. The next day he loaded all seven with packs of meat, saying, “Take this meat to the villagers and lead them hither.” While they awaited the return of the young men with the villagers, the girl made two bundles of meat, one of the best and choicest pieces, and the other of liver, very dry and hard to eat.

After a few days the camp arrived. The young woman’s mother opened the door and ran in crying: “Oh, my dear daughter, how glad I am to see you.” But the daughter received her coldly and gave her the bundle of dried liver to eat. But when the old woman who had saved the children’s lives came in, the young girl received her gladly, called her grandmother, and gave her the package of choice meat with marrow.

Then the whole village camped and ate of the stores of meat all the winter until spring came; and withal they were so many, there was such abundance of stores that there was still much left.

Legend Credit:
A Sioux Legend
Marie L. McLaughlin, 1913

Photo Credit:

The Tree-bound

It was a clear summer day. The blue, blue sky dropped low over the edge of the green level land. A large yellow sun hung directly overhead. The singing of birds filled the summer space between earth and sky with sweet music.

Again and again sang a yellow-breasted birdie–“Koda Ni Lakota!” He insisted upon it. “Koda Ni Lakota!” which was, “Friend, you’re a Lakota! Friend, you’re a Lakota!”

Perchance the birdie meant the avenger with the magic arrow, for there across the plain he strode. He was handsome in his paint and feathers, proud with his great buckskin quiver on his back and a long bow in his hand. Afar to an eastern camp of cone-shaped teepees he was going.

There over the Indian village hovered a large red eagle threatening the safety of the people. Every morning rose this terrible red bird out of a high chalk bluff and spreading out his gigantic wings soared slowly over the round camp ground.

Then it was that the people, terror-stricken, ran screaming into their lodges. Covering their heads with their blankets, they sat trembling with fear. No one dared to venture out till the red eagle had disappeared beyond the west, where meet the blue and green.

In vain tried the chieftain of the tribe to find among his warriors a powerful marksman who could send a death arrow to the man-hungry bird.

At last to urge his men to their utmost skill he bade his crier proclaim a new reward. Of the chieftain’s two beautiful daughters he would have his choice who brought the dreaded red eagle with an arrow in its breast.

Upon hearing these words, the men of the village, both young and old, both heroes and cowards, trimmed new arrows for the contest. At gray dawn there stood indistinct under the shadow of the bluff many human figures; silent as ghosts and wrapped in robes girdled tight about their waists, they waited with chosen bow and arrow.

Some cunning old warriors stayed not with the group. They crouched low upon the open ground. But all eyes alike were fixed upon the top of the high bluff. Breathless they watched for the soaring of the red eagle.

From within the dwellings many eyes peeped through the small holes in the front lapels of the teepee. With shaking knees and hard-set teeth, the women peered out upon the Lakota men prowling about with bows and arrows.

At length when the morning sun also peeped over the eastern horizon at the armed Lakotas, the red eagle walked out upon the edge of the cliff. Pluming his gorgeous feathers, he ruffled his neck and flapped his strong wings together. Then he dived into the air. Slowly he winged his way over the round camp ground; over the men with their strong bows and arrows! In an instant the long bows were bent.

Strong straight arrows with red feathered tips sped upward to the blue sky. Ah! slowly moved those indifferent wings, untouched by the poison-beaked arrows. Off to the west beyond the reach of arrow, beyond the reach of eye, the red eagle flew away. A sudden clamor of high-pitched voices broke the deadly stillness of the dawn. The women talked excitedly about the invulnerable red of the eagle’s feathers, while the would-be heroes sulked within their wigwams.

“He-he-he!” groaned the chieftain.

On the evening of the shame day sat a group of hunters around a bright burning fire. They were talking of a strange young man whom they spied while out upon a hunt for deer beyond the bluffs. They saw the stranger taking aim. Following the point of his arrow with their eyes, they beheld a herd of buffalo.

The arrow sprang from the bow! It darted into the skull of the foremost buffalo. But unlike other arrows it pierced through the head of the creature and spinning in the air lit into the next buffalo head. One by one the buffalo fell upon the sweet grass they were grazing. With straight quivering limbs they lay on their sides.

The young man stood calmly by, counting on his fingers the buffalo as they dropped dead to the ground. When the last one fell, he ran thither and picking up his magic arrow wiped it carefully on the soft grass. He slipped it into his long fringed quiver. “He is going to make a feast for some hungry tribe of men or beasts!” cried the hunters among themselves as they hastened away. They were afraid of the stranger with the sacred arrow.

When the hunter’s tale of the stranger’s arrow reached the ears of the chieftain, his face brightened with a smile. He sent forth fleet horsemen, to learn of him his birth, his name, and his deeds. “If he is the avenger with the magic arrow, sprung up from the earth out of a clot of buffalo blood, bid him come hither. Let him kill the red eagle with his magic arrow. Let him win for himself one of my beautiful daughters,” he had said to his messengers, for the old story of the badger’s man-son was known all over the level lands.

After four days and nights the braves returned. “He is coming,” they said. “We have seen him. He is straight and tall; handsome in face, with large black eyes. He paints his round cheeks with bright red, and wears the penciled lines of red over his temples like our men of honored rank. He carries on his back a long fringed quiver in which he keeps his magic arrow. His bow is long and strong. He is coming now to kill the big red eagle.” All around the camp ground from mouth to ear passed those words of the returned messengers.

Now it chanced that immortal Iktomi, fully recovered from the brown burnt spots, overheard the people talking. At once he was filled with a new desire. “If only I had the magic arrow, I would kill the red eagle and win the chieftain’s daughter for a wife,” said he in his heart.

Back to his lonely wigwam he hastened. Beneath the tree in front of his teepee he sat upon the ground with chin between his drawn-up knees. His keen eyes scanned the wide plain. He was watching for the avenger.

“‘He is coming!’ said the people,” muttered old Iktomi. All of a sudden he raised an open palm to his brow and peered afar into the west. The summer sun hung bright in the middle of a cloudless sky. There across the green prairie was a man walking bareheaded toward the east.

“Ha! ha! ’tis he! the man with the magic arrow!” laughed Iktomi. And when the bird with the yellow breast sang loud again–“Koda Ni Lakota! Friend, you’re a Lakota!” Iktomi put his hand over his mouth as he threw his head far backward, laughing at both the bird and man.

“He is your friend, but his arrow will kill one of your kind! He is a Lakota, but soon he’ll grow into the bark on this tree! Ha! ha! ha!” he laughed again. The young avenger walked with swaying strides nearer and nearer toward the lonely wigwam and tree. Iktomi heard the swish! swish! of the stranger’s feet through the tall grass. He was passing now beyond the tree, when Iktomi, springing to his feet, called out: “Hau, hau, my friend! I see you are dressed in handsome deerskins and have red paint on your cheeks. You are going to some feast or dance, may I ask?”

Seeing the young man only smiled Iktomi went on: “I have not had a mouthful of food this day. Have pity on me, young brave, and shoot yonder bird for me!”

With these words Iktomi pointed toward the tree-top, where sat a bird on the highest branch. The young avenger, always ready to help those in distress, sent an arrow upward and the bird fell. In the next branch it was caught between the forked prongs. “My friend, climb the tree and get the bird. I cannot climb so high. I would get dizzy and fall,” pleaded Iktomi.

The avenger began to scale the tree, when Iktomi cried to him: “My friend, your beaded buckskins may be torn by the branches. Leave them safe upon the grass till you are down again.”

“You are right,” replied the young man, quickly slipping off his long fringed quiver. Together with his dangling pouches and tinkling ornaments, he placed it on the ground. Now he climbed the tree unhindered. Soon from the top he took the bird. “My friend, toss to me your arrow that I may have the honor of wiping it clean on soft deerskin!” exclaimed Iktomi.

“Hau!” said the brave, and threw the bird and arrow to the ground. At once Iktomi seized the arrow. Rubbing it first on the grass and then on a piece of deerskin, he muttered indistinct words all the while.

The young man, stepping downward from limb to limb, hearing the low muttering, said: “Iktomi, I cannot hear what you say!”

“Oh, my friend, I was only talking of your big heart.” Again stooping over the arrow Iktomi continued his repetition of charm words.

“Grow fast, grow fast to the bark of the tree,” he whispered. Still the young man moved slowly downward. Suddenly dropping the arrow and standing erect, Iktomi said aloud: “Grow fast to the bark of the tree!”

Before the brave could leap from the tree he became tight-grown to the bark. “Ah! ha!” laughed the bad Iktomi. “I have the magic arrow! I have the beaded buckskins of the great avenger!” Hooting and dancing beneath the tree, he said: “I shall kill the red eagle; I shall wed the chieftain’s beautiful daughter!”

“Oh, Iktomi, set me free!” begged the tree-bound Lakota brave. But Iktomi’s ears were like the fungus on a tree. He did not hear with them. Wearing the handsome buckskins and carrying proudly the magic arrow in his right hand, he started off eastward. Imitating the swaying strides of the avenger, he walked away with a face turned slightly skyward. “Oh, set me free! I am glued to the tree like its own bark! Cut me loose!” moaned the prisoner.

A young woman, carrying on her strong back a bundle of tightly bound willow sticks, passed near by the lonely teepee. She heard the wailing man’s voice. She paused to listen to the shad words. Looking around she saw nowhere a human creature. “It may be a spirit,” thought she.

“Oh! cut me loose! set me free! Iktomi has played me false! He has made me bark of his tree!” cried the voice again.

The young woman dropped her pack of firewood to the ground. With her stone axe she hurried to the tree. There before her astonished eyes clung a young brave close to the tree. Too shy for words, yet too kind-hearted to leave the stranger tree-bound, she cut loose the whole bark. Like an open jacket she drew it to the ground. With it came the young man also.

Free once more, he started away. Looking backward, a few paces from the young woman, he waved his hand, upward and downward, before her face. This was a sign of gratitude used when words failed to interpret strong emotion.

When the bewildered woman reached her dwelling, she mounted a pony and rode swiftly across the rolling land. To the camp ground in the east, to the chieftain troubled by the red eagle, she carried her story.

Legend Credit:
A Lakota Legend Zitkala Sa, Old Indian Legends, 1901

Photo credit:
unknown

The Release of the Wild Animals

Long ago two persons owned all the buffalo. They were an old woman and her young cousin. They kept them penned up in the mountains, so that they could not get out. Coyote came to these people.

He summoned the Indians to a council. “That old woman will not give us anything. When we come over there, we will plan how to release the buffalo.”

They all moved near the buffalo-enclosure. “After four nights,” said Coyote, “we will again hold a council as to how we can release the buffalo. A very small animal shall go where the old woman draws her water. When the child gets water, it will take it home for a pet. The old woman will object; but the child will think so much of the animal, that it will begin to cry and will be allowed to keep it. The animal will run off at daybreak, and the buffalo will burst out of their pen and run away.”

The first animal they sent failed. Then they sent the Kill-dee.

When the boy went for water, he found the Kill-dee and took it home. “Look here!” he said to his cousin, “this animal of mine is very good.”

The old woman replied, “Oh, it is good for nothing! There is nothing living on the earth that is not a rascal or schemer.”

The child paid no attention to her.

“Take it back where you got it,” said the woman. He obeyed. The Kill-dee returned. The people had another council. “Well, she has got the better of these two. They have failed,” said Coyote; “but that makes no difference. Perhaps we may release them, perhaps we shall fail. This is the third time now. We will send a small animal over there. If the old woman agrees to take it, it will liberate those buffalo; it is a great schemer.” So they sent the third animal. Coyote said, “If she rejects this one, we shall surely be unable to liberate the game.”

The animal went to the spring and was picked up by the boy, who took a great liking to it. “Look here! What a nice pet I have!”

The old woman replied, “Oh, how foolish you are! It is a good for nothing. All the animals in the world are schemers. I’ll kill it with a club.”

The boy took it in his arms and ran away crying. He thought too much of his pet. “No! this animal is too small,” he cried.

When the animal had not returned by nightfall, Coyote went among the people, saying, “Well, this animal has not returned yet; I dare say the old woman has consented to keep it. Don’t be uneasy, our buffalo will be freed.” Then he bade all the people get ready just at daybreak. “Our buffalo will be released. Do all of you mount your horses.”

In the mean time the animal, following its instructions, slipped over to the pen, and began to howl. The buffalo heard it, and were terrified. They ran towards the gate, broke it down, and escaped. The old woman, hearing the noise, woke up. The child asked, “Where is my pet?” He did not find it.

The old woman said, “I told you so. Now you see the animal is bad, it has deprived us of our game.” She vainly tried to hold the buffalo back.

At daybreak all the Indians got on their horses, for they had confidence in Coyote. Thus the buffalo came to live on this earth. Coyote was a great schemer.vision-quest

Credit:

A Comanche Legend

Who is this BHA?

Who is Birgitta Hallgren Atem?

This lady from Sweden is boasting how she’s reporting many Native American facebook pages for sharing copyrighted content(she adds her name to existing memes). Birgitta and her associates even brag about how many pages they reported and had removed from facebook. At one point Birgitta’s associate comments “she had fake name, so that one was easy!”

Over the last couple of days her conversations on her facebook page, with her associates were disturbing.

Please let me know if anyone has experience similar negative dealings with this lady. I am filing a counter report to the DMCA designate agent at facebook.

Birgitta Hallgren Atem (page admin)
Richard Amerine (page owner)
The Great Spirit Wakan Tanka (the page)
She lives in Sweden and she claims to be Lakota.

________________

According to the conversation on her facebook wall today(052215), Birgitta and her associates get a kick out of downloading Native American images and copyrighting them with  their own name then forwarding them to unsuspecting Native America Facebook pages, in hopes that they share the image. Then they immediately report it to facebook to take advantage of the new DMCA copyright laws. Native Americans facebook pages are being removed because of these false allegations by Birgitta from Sweden.

Many of the pieces Birgitta Hallgren Atem copyrighted were shared on my network from the years before, but according to facebook’s DMCA laws she owns them now that she added her name. Check them out in her collection! Most of her collection contain images I have share before. Most of her copyrighted items are popular images that have been circulating around Social Media Networks for years now. I noticed she uses a few different copyright marks– I know of three different ones she files reports with and there’s a few more uncredited copyright marks on her pages so she does use more then 5 different one to entrap Native American Pages.

To top it off, they actually brag about getting their copyrighted pictures removed from three different Native American Facebook pages today–one of them being mine.

Bottom line: I shared a meme that her friend shared on my page. She immediately reported it to facebook. This is the third time she has done this to me is the last six months.

______________________

Birgitta has been in my friend circle on my main facebook profile for years and since she started her page in Aug 2014 she’s become a real BITCH! Very possessive! I had to unfriend, then blocked her and that’s when she became evil towards me, at lease that’s what I thought…

______________________

Here’s a giggle: On her wall today, she goes off about how she “hates fake people who pretend to be real” …

rat bha

If you get a chance ask her where she’s from?   🙂

I will add more information as I collect it…

Thanks for your time…

Reamus

THE SPLASHES OF LIFE

THE SPLASHES OF LIFE

My grandfather took me to the fishing pond
when I was about seven, and he told me
to throw a stone into the water.

He told me to watch the circles created by the stone.
Then he asked me to think of myself as that stone person.

“You may create lots of splashes in your life,
but the waves that come from those splashes will disturb the peace
of all your fellow creatures,” he said.

“Remember that you are responsible for what you put in your circle
and that circle will also touch many other circles.”

“You will need to live in a way that allows the good that comes
from your circle to send the peace of that goodness to others.”

“The splash that comes from anger or jealousy will send
those feelings to other circles. You are responsible for both.”

That was the first time I realized each person creates the
inner peace or discord that flows out into the world.

We cannot create world peace if we are riddled with
inner conflict, hatred, doubt, or anger.

We radiate the feelings and thoughts that we hold inside,
whether we speak them or not.

Whatever is splashing around inside of us
is spilling out into the world, creating beauty or discord
with all other circles of life.

Remember the eternal wisdom:

WHATEVER YOU FOCUS ON EXPANDS …

… a Sioux Indian story

Prayer to the Four Directions

Great Spirit of Light,
come to me out of the East (red)
with the power of the rising sun.
Let there be light in my words,
let there be light on my path that I walk.
Let me remember always
that you give the gift of a new day.
And never let me be burdened with sorrow
by not starting over again.

Great Spirit of Love,
come to me with the power of the North (white).
Make me courageous when the cold wind falls upon me.
Give me strength and endurance
for everything that is harsh,
everything that hurts,
everything that makes me squint.
Let me move through life
ready to take what comes from the north.

Great Life-Giving Spirit,
I face the West (black),
the direction of sundown.
Let me remember everyday that the moment will come
when my sun will go down.
Never let me forget that I must fade into you.
Give me a beautiful color,
give me a great sky for setting,
so that when it is my time to meet you,
I can come with glory.

Great Spirit of Creation,
send me the warm and soothing winds from the South (yellow).
Comfort me and caress me when I am tired and cold.
Unfold me like the gentle breezes
that unfold the leaves on the trees.
As you give to all the earth your warm, moving wind,
give to me,
so that I may grow close to you in warmth.

Image

May the Great Spirit bless you

“Great Spirit and all unseen, this day we pray and ask You for guidance, humbly we ask You to help us and fellow men to have recourse to peaceful ways of life, because of uncontrolled deceitfulness by human- kind. Help us all to love, not hate one another.

We ask you to be seen in an image of Love and Peace. Let us be seen in beauty, the colors of the rainbow. We respect our Mother, the planet, with our loving care, for from Her breast we receive our nourishment.

Let us not listen to the voices of the two-hearted, the destroyers of mind, the haters and self-made leaders, whose lusts for power and wealth will lead us into confusion and darkness.

Seek visions always of world beauty, not violence nor battlefields.

It is our duty to pray always for harmony between man and earth, so that the earth will bloom once more. Let us show our emblem of love and goodwill for all life and land.

Pray for the House of Glass, for within it are minds clear and pure as ice and mountain streams. Pray for the great leaders of nations in the House of Mica who in their own quiet ways help the earth in balance.

We pray the Great Spirit that one day our Mother Earth will be purified into a healthy peaceful one. Let us sing for strength of wisdom with all nations for the good of all people. Our hope is not yet lost, purification must be to restore the health of our Mother Earth for lasting peace and happiness.
May the Great Spirit bless you
Techqua Ikachi – for Land and Life!”
… offered by representatives the Hopi Nation

May the Great Spirit bless you

greatspiritblessyou

Keep your thoughts positive,
because your thoughts become your words.
Keep your words positive,
because your words become your behaviors.
Keep your behaviors positive,
because your behaviors become your habits.
Keep your habits positive,
because your habits become your values.
Keep your values positive,
because your values become your destiny.