Recently in Stories Category

Many of the world's people have stories about a great flood that destroyed the worlds people save for one family.  Here is one told among the Cherokee.  This story does not have any overt theological message or moral lesson.  It seems to be a night time ghost story.

_____________________________________________________

A long time ago a man had a dog, which began to go down to the river every day and look at the water and howl. At last the man was angry and scolded the dog, which then spoke to him and said: "Very soon there is going to be a great freshet and the water will come so high that everybody will be drowned; but if you will make a raft to get upon when the rain comes you can be saved, but you must first throw me into the water." The man did not believe it, and the dog said, "If you want a sign that I speak the truth, look at the back of my neck." He looked and saw that the dog's neck had the skin worn off so that the bones stuck out.

Then he believed the dog, and began to build a raft. Soon the rain came and he took his family, with plenty of provisions and they all got upon it. It rained for a long time, and the water rose until the mountains were covered and all the people in the world were drowned. Then the rain stopped and the waters went down again, until at last it was safe to come off the raft. Now there was no one alive but the man and his family, but one day they heard a sound of dancing and shouting on the other side of the ridge. The man climbed to the top and looked over; everything was still, but all along the valley he saw great piles of bones of the people who had been drowned, and then he knew that the ghosts had been dancing.

James Moody,  Myths and Legends of the Cherokee

Marjorie Bowens-Wheatley was born August 6, 1949.  In her memory today I publish what Marjorie considered her call narrative delivered as part of the Unitarian Universalist Ministers Convocation in Birmingham, Alabama. 

Not by Ourselves Alone 

March 8, 2002 

In the late 1970's through the mid-1980's, I was living in Washington, D.C. working as a journalist and public television producer. I had chosen a profession in the news media because I wanted people to have the option of a different spin on the news of the corporate monopolies. I wanted to do stories so compelling that people might not only be inspired, but might actually feel compelled to act. 

Some of you will recall that the 1980's was a time when carjackings were a regular occurrence in some urban areas, and I was out covering such a story. An African American woman about my age (I was 35 or 36 at the time), was filling up her car with gasoline, and in the flash of an eye, a moment when she had turned away, someone had driven off not only with her car, but with her eight-year old daughter. Now I must tell you that I too had a daughter, so I had a deep identification with this woman. 

When I arrived on the scene, there were at least five radio and television stations that had set up their equipment, and four reporters had microphones in her face. I looked around at my camera man, who was about to join the mob, and I looked at the woman. She was visibly, and understandably upset, speaking in a soft voice; but not all of her sentences were complete or coherent. I made my way closer to her, all the time monitoring the pace of my crew's set-up. As other reporters probed her with questions, I placed my hand in hers. I remember thinking to myself, why don't they leave her alone. And then, there was this sudden awareness that I was one of them. They were my fellow reporters. And yet, I knew that the last thing she needed was not a gang of microphones in her face. In a flash, I remembered the words of one of my professors who, emphasizing that television news had to have pictures maintain its dramatic focus, had said to the class "keep the camera rolling until you make them cry." 

What this woman needed was someone to talk to about her troubles; someone to console her; someone with whom she could let out all her fears--without fear of exploitation; someone to tell her "it's gonna be alright." And when she grasped onto my hand for what seemed like dear life, I knew that I couldn't do the story, that I couldn't keep the camera rolling. 

I begged my fellow reporters to give her some breathing room, and she must have sensed that I had her interest at heart, because as I quietly guided her away from the crowd and toward my station's van, she did not resist. Eventually, the microphones and the reporters disappeared, audiotape and videotape in-hand for the evening news. The woman had held back the tears from the cameras, but within moments, she was weeping incessantly. As we sat waiting for a family member to arrive, I tried to comfort her between the tears as she told me bits and pieces of the story--without camera, without microphone. And when we parted, I said to her,  "Keep the faith." You will see your daughter again. And indeed, she did. 

I could not get this woman out of my mind for the rest of the day, and when I went home that evening, it  became really clear to me why. My values had gotten confused. I had had a long period of absence from churches, and so at the time, I didn't have the religious language to name what had happened with the woman at the gas station. I didn't realize until much later that I was doing pastoral ministry. The person behind the story had become more important to me than getting the story. And I knew that I could no longer be a reporter, at least not that kind of reporter. I knew that I would have to leave the media. I remained one more year at the television station to finish the documentary that I had already begun. I had been an activist, involved in social justice work. This, along with a deep need, and longing for reconnection with a faith community, I had found my way to All Souls Church in Washington, DC. When I saw an announcement on the church bulletin board of a job opening at the Unitarian Universalist Service Committee, there was no doubt in my mind. I had to work in a place where I could align my values with my work. And it wasn't long--perhaps a few months--before I was moving to Boston to live and nurture my faith, and to put my faith into action. 

At the Service Committee, and later at the Veatch Program, I began to understand justice work as ministry. But it wasn't until I was in theological school, that I found a definition of faith that made sense to me. It is gaining confidence through relating to others that there is sustaining grace in the universe, a power beyond ourselves that holds us ... and that we experience this power through our relationships with others and they with us. In other words, faith is relational. 

I now understood that the work I had done with the woman at the gas station might have been important in nurturing her faith as well as my own. For me, it was a turning point--an experience that helped to clarify my values, test the profession of journalism in a new way, and inform my faith, which was not fully coherent. 

I answered the call, and here I am, still nurturing my faith.

So what are the stars?  The Cherokee had more than one story about the stars but this is the one that Moody wrote down. 

"One night a hunting party camping in the mountains noticed two lights like large stars moving along the top of a distant ridge. They wondered and watched until the light disappeared on the other side. The next night, and the next, they saw the lights again moving along the ridge, and after talking over the matter decided to go on the morrow and try to learn the cause. In the morning they started out and went until they came to the ridge, where, after searching some time, they found two strange creatures about so large (making a circle with outstretched arms), with round bodies covered with fine fur or downy feathers, from which small heads stuck out like the heads of terrapins. As the breeze played upon these feathers showers of sparks flew out.

The hunters carried the strange creatures back to the camp, intending to take them home to the settlements on their return. They kept them several days and noticed that every night they would grow bright and shine like great stars, although by day they were only balls of gray fur, except when the wind stirred and made the sparks fly out. They kept very quiet, and no one thought of their trying to escape, when, on the seventh night, they suddenly rose from the ground like balls of fire and were soon above the tops of the trees. Higher and higher they went, while the wondering hunters watched, until at last they were only two bright points of light in the dark sky, and then the hunters knew that they were stars."

From Cherokee Myths and Legends by James Moody

At the time of the English invasion the Cherokee (Tsalagi) were organized in villages that mutually supported each other but had no central overlords.  Each village had an elected council and elected chiefs and an empowered women's council.  But was it always this way?  Were pre-Columbian indigenous people "prehistoric" in the sense that nothing happened to fundamentally change society, so people lived more or less as they had since the beginning of time.

The dominant cultures romantic notion of "people without history" is disputed by the evidence of highly centralized commercial empires that existed in North America, empires that become organized and conquered more and more people and then for reasons that historians are still researching collapsed.  Commodities were traded across North America while Europe had collapsed into warring feudal states during its Dark Ages.

The most recent of these commercial empires was the Mississippian culture, or so called mound builders.  This empire has its center at Cahokia, in Illinois. It is clear that while the ties that bound the various peoples together in this empire were commercial, the form of organization was a theocracy.  One of the legacies of the Mississippians is common rituals, and common symbols among many different Native American Indian communities who speak rather different languages and have different cultures.

The Mississippian culture extended from Wisconsin to Florida and included the Cherokee as one of the participating or subject peoples.  Here is a story that helps explain why this empire fell, and perhaps gives us insight into how democratic institutions are formed in response to (sometimes bitter) experience.

From MYTHS OF THE CHEROKEE

By James Mooney

Among other perishing traditions is that relating to the Ani'-Kuta'nï or Ani'-Kwäta'nï (the priest people), concerning whom the modern Cherokee know so little that their very identity is now a matter of dispute, a few holding that they were in ancient people who preceded the Cherokee and built the mounds, while others, with more authority, claim that they were a clan or society in the tribe and were destroyed long ago by pestilence or other calamity. Fortunately, we are not left to depend entirety upon surmise in the matter, as the tradition was noted by Haywood some seventy years ago, and by another writer some forty years later, while the connected story could still be obtained from competent authorities. From the various statements it would seem that the Ani'-Kuta'nï were a priestly clan, having hereditary supervision of all religious ceremonies among the Cherokee, until, in consequence of having abused their sacred privileges, they were attacked and completely exterminated by the rest of the tribe, leaving the priestly functions to be assumed thereafter by individual doctors and conjurers.

Haywood says., without giving name or details, "The Cherokees are addicted to conjuration to ascertain whether a sick person will recover. This custom arose after the destruction of their priests. Tradition states that such person lived among their ancestors and were deemed superior to others, and were extirpated long ago, in consequence of the misconduct of one of the priests, who attempted to take the wife of a man who was the brother of the leading chief of the nation."[1]

A more detailed statement, on the authority of Chief John Ross (first Principal Chief of the Modern Cherokee Nation) and Dr J. B. Evans, is given in 1866 by a writer who speaks of the massacre as having occurred about a century before, although from the dimness of the tradition it is evident that it must have been much earlier:

"The facts, though few, are interesting. The order was hereditary; in this respect peculiar, for among Indians seldom, and among the Cherokees never, does power pertain to any family as a matter of right. Yet the family of the Nicotani--for it seems to have been a family or clan--enjoyed this privilege. The power that they exercised was not, however, political, nor does it appear that chiefs were elected from among them.

"The Nicotani were a mystical, religious body, of whom the people stood in great awe, and seem to have been somewhat like the Brahmins of India. By what means they attained their ascendancy, or how long it was maintained, can never be ascertained. Their extinction by massacre is nearly all that can be discovered concerning them. They became haughty, insolent, overbearing, and licentious to an intolerable degree. Relying on their hereditary privileges and the strange awe which they inspired, they did not hesitate by fraud or violence to rend asunder the tender relations of husband and wife when a beautiful woman excited their passions. The people long brooded in silence over the oppressions and outrages of this high caste, whom they deeply hated but greatly feared. 

At length a daring young man, a member of an influential family, organized a conspiracy among the people for the massacre of the priesthood. The immediate provocation was the abduction of the wife of the young leader of the conspiracy. His wife was remarkable for her beauty, and was forcibly abducted and violated by one of the Nicotani while he was absent on the chase. On his return he found no difficulty in exciting in others the resentment which he himself experienced. So many had suffered in the same way, so many feared that they might be made to suffer, that nothing was wanted but a leader. A leader appearing in the person of the young brave whom we have named, the people rose under his direction and killed every Nicotani, young and old. 

Thus perished a hereditary secret society, since which time no hereditary privileges have been tolerated among the Cherokees."

 Maize or corn was first cultivated in what is now Mexico about 5,000 years ago, and spread rapidly to became the most important food crop in Central and North America.  Throughout the continent, indigenous Americans told stories about how corn originated, why it is planted the way it is, and how honor can be given to this important crop.

While dominant culture academics have interpreted the characters in these stories as gods and goddesses,  most Indians find this understanding of their stories offensive.  The majority of stories told by different American Indian nations have a character whose name is the same as that peoples word for corn and often this character is depicted as woman.    Corn dances are held to raise the corn, but the Corn Mother is not worshipped in the sense that a god or goddess is worshipped. 

The Cherokee story of Selu  or the Corn Motherm and the story of  Ilyatiku of the Keresan people of the American Southwest function differently than Chicomecoatl,  the female symbol of maize who was worshiped by the Aztecs of Mexico and her male consort Centeotl, to whom they offered their blood each year.

 The Seminole tell have a story of Fas-ta-chee, a male dwarf whose hair and body were made of corn.   He carried a bag of corn and taught the people how to grow, grind, and store corn for food. 

The Zunis tell a story about eight corn maidens. The young women are invisible, but their beautiful dancing movements can be seen when they dance with the growing corn as it waves in the wind. One day a young man Paiyatemu fales in love with the maidens, and they fled from him. While they were gone, a terrible famine spread across the land. Paiyatemu begged the maidens to turn back, and they returned to the Zuni and resumed their dance. As a result, the corn started to grow again.

In a story, told by the Creeks and other tribes of the southeastern United States, the Corn Woman is an old woman living with a family that does not know who she is. Every day she feeds the family corn dishes, but the members of the family cannot figure out where she gets the food.

One day, wanting to discover where the old woman gets the corn, the sons spy on her. Depending on the version of the story, the corn is either scabs or sores that she rubs off her body, washings from her feet, nail clippings, or even her feces. In all versions, the origin of the corn is disgusting, and once the family members know its origin, they refuse to eat it.

The Corn Mother wins over the disgusted sons in all the stories, but each story has a variation of how she does it. In the Cherokee story, Selu tells the sons to clear a large piece of ground, kill her, and drag her body around the clearing seven times. However, the sons clear only seven small spaces, cut off her head, and drag it around the seven spots. Wherever her blood fell, corn grew. According to the story, this is why corn only grows in some places and not all over the world.

In another account, the Corn Woman tells the boys to build a corn crib and lock her inside it for four days. At the end of that time, they open the crib and find it filled with corn. The Corn Woman then shows them how to use the corn.

Other stories of the origin of corn involve goddesses who choose men to teach the uses of corn and to spread the knowledge to their people. The Seneca Indians of the Northeast tell of a beautiful woman who lived on a cliff and sang to the village below. Her song told an old man to climb to the top and be her husband. At first, he refused because the climb was so steep, but the villagers persuaded him to go.

When the old man reached the top, the woman asked him to make love to her. She also taught him how to care for a young plant that would grow on the spot where they made love. The old man fainted as he embraced the woman, and when he awoke, the woman was gone. Five days later, he returned to the spot to find a corn plant. He husked the corn and gave some grains to each member of the tribe. The Seneca then shared their knowledge with other tribes, spreading corn around the world.

Long, long ago, the earth was deep beneath the water. There was a great darkness because no sun or moon or stars shone. The only creatures living in this dark world were water animals such as the beaver, muskrat, duck and loon.

Far above the water-covered earth was the Land of the Happy Spirits, where the Great Spirit dwelled. In the center of this upper realm was a giant apple tree with roots that sank deep into the ground.

One day the Great Spirit pulled the tree up from its roots creating a pit in the ground. The Great Spirit called to his daughter, who lived in the Upper World. He commanded her to look into the pit. The woman did as she was told and peered through the hole. In the distance, she saw the Lower World covered by water and clouds.

The Great Spirit spoke to his daughter, telling her to go into the world of darkness. He then tenderly picked her up and dropped her into the hole. The woman, who would be called Sky Woman by those creatures watching her fall, began to slowly float downward.

As Sky Woman continued her descent, the water animals looked up. Far above them they saw a great light that was Sky Woman. The animals were initially afraid because of the light emanating from her. In their fear, they dove deep beneath the water.

The animals eventually conquered their fear and came back up to the surface. Now they were concerned about the woman, and what would happen to her when she reached the water.

The beaver told the others that they must find a dry place for her to rest upon. The beaver plunged deep beneath the water in search of earth. He was unsuccessful. After a time, his dead body surfaced to the top of the water.

The loon was the next creature to try to find some earth. He, too, was unsuccessful. Many others tried, but each animal failed. At last, the muskrat said he would try. When his dead body floated to the top, his little claws were clenched tight. The others opened his claws and found a little bit of earth.

The water animals summoned a great turtle and patted the earth upon its back. At once the turtle grew and grew, as did the amount of earth. This earth became North America, a great island.

During all this time, Sky Woman continued her gentle fall. The leader of the swans grew concerned as Sky Woman's approach grew imminent. He gathered a flock of swans that flew upward and allowed Sky Woman to rest upon their back. With great care, they placed her upon the newly formed earth.

Soon after her arrival, Sky Woman gave birth to twins. The first born became known as the Good Spirit. The other twin caused his mother so much pain that she died during his birth. He was to be known as the Evil Spirit.

The Good Spirit took his mother's head and hung it in the sky, and it became the sun. The Good Spirit also fashioned the stars and moon from his mother's body. He buried the remaining parts of Sky Woman under the earth. Thus, living things may always find nourishment from the soil for it springs from Mother Earth.

While the Good Spirit provided light, the Evil Spirit created the darkness. The Good Spirit created many things, but each time his brother would attempt to undo his good work.

The Good Spirit made the tall and beautiful trees, including the pines and hemlock. The Evil Spirit, to be contrary, stunted some trees or put gnarls and knots in their trunks. Other trees he covered in thorns or poisoned their fruit.

The Good Spirit made bear and deer. The Evil Spirit made poisonous animals such as lizards and serpents to destroy the animals created by his brother.

When the Good Spirit made springs and streams of pure crystal water, the Evil Spirit poisoned some and placed snakes in others. The Good Spirit made beautiful rivers. The Evil Spirit pushed rocks and dirt into the rivers creating swift and dangerous currents.

Everything the Good Spirit made his wicked brother attempted to destroy.

After the Good Spirit completed the earth, he created man out of red clay. Placing the man upon the earth, the Good Spirit instructed the man about how he should live. The Evil Spirit made a monkey from sea foam.

Upon completion of his work, the Good Spirit bestowed a protecting spirit upon all of his creations. This done, he called his brother and told him he must cease making trouble. The Evil Spirit emphatically refused. The Good Spirit became enraged at his brother's wickedness. He challenged his evil twin to combat. The winner would become the ruler of the world.

For their weapons they used the thorns of the giant apple tree. The battle raged for many days. The Good Spirit triumphed, overcoming his evil brother. The Good Spirit took his place as ruler of the earth and banished his brother to a dark cave under the ground. In this cave the Evil Spirit was to remain.

The Evil Spirit, however, has wicked servants who do his bidding and roam upon the earth. The wicked spirits are able to take any form and cause men to do evil things.

This is the reason that everyone has both a good heart and a bad heart. Regardless of how good a man is, he still possesses some evil. The reverse also is true. For however evil a man may be, he still has some good qualities. No man is perfect.

The Good Spirit continues to create and protect mankind. It is the Good Spirit who controls the spirits of good men upon their death. His wicked brother takes possession of the souls of those who are evil like himself. And so it remains.

This is the Choctaw story of how human beings emerged from a mountain especially built for nurturing the two legged ones.  I like this story because it isn't just about one community of people, but includes other Nations that the Choctaw knew about.  Notice the little slap at the Creeks. (Muskogee)

Many years ago, my son, there were no men. HUSH-TALI was alone with our animal brothers.They gave him no comfort as they were busy playing Toli amongst themselves. HUSH-TALI asked Mother Moon why she shone so bright in her happiness at night. "I have my children, they play and hunt in the woods at night." HUSH-TALI asked Father Sun why he gave his warmth to the Earth each day. "To warm my children and give them light to play Toli." HUSH-TALI sat alone and thought about this for many, many years. Then HUSH-TALI decided that he must have his own children, too. 

First he built a great mountain, the one we call NANIH WAIYA, to hold his children until they were born. You see, my son, there were yet no women on the Earth to a mother to men. Then, he placed the seeds of man deep within the bowels of the mountain. Knowing that they would be small and weak when they were born, HUSH-TALI dug a great cave in the side of NANIH WAIYA. Then HUSH-TALI waited patiently, as any expectant father must do. 

First born were the Creeks. When they came out of the cave, they climbed the side of NINAH WAIYA and lay down in the light of Father Sun to dry themselves. "What is this place of light," they said amognst themselves as they lay drying. When they were dry, the Creeks walked round and round NANIH WAIYAH to see where they were. When they were tired, is was night and cold, so they built a the first council fire to give themselves warmth, and smoked many pipes of tobacco as they sat talking. In the morning, Father Sun came again, and they said to themselves, "Let us go to the land where Father Sun lives at night and it will not be cold." So they went to the East and there they gave birth to a Great People. 

Then were born the Cherokees. When they came out into the Sun to dry themselves, the woods all around had burned, because the Creeks had been careless with their fires and their smoking. They lay on the side of the Mother Hill, NANIH WAIYA, and when they were dry, they could not find the trail of their Creek brothers as the fires had burned away the trail. They walked round and round NANIH WAIYAH, then the wisest among them said, "Let us go this way and find a home." They went to the North and there they found a home for their Nation.

Chickasaw emerged from the Mother Hill next. As they lay, drying in Father Sun's warmth, they saw their Brothers walking to the North. They followed the Cherokee to the North land. They settled nearby, and their many children built the Nation of the Chickasaw close to their Brother Cherokees. There they stayed.

Our Choctaw people came last from the Mother Hill's belly and NANIH WAIYA rejoiced that all of her children were at last born. The Choctaw walked round and round their Mother, finally lying down to dry in the Sun. When they were dry, they held the first council of the Tribe. There were many words, many voices. When it was done they decided they could not leave their Mother alone, they would stay within her sight where she could watch them and not worry. Around NANIH WAIYA they stayed, they found no need to leave her.

HUSH-TALI smiled upon his children and it was good in his heart. This my son, is how man was born from Mother Earth. 

There was a couple named Kana'ti ("The Lucky Hunter") and his wife, Selu ("maize"). Kana'ti was an excellent hunter and never failed to catch some game. Their son played in the river in which Selu washed the blood off of her husband's catch every day. The boy soon began playing with a creature that sprang from the river and called himself his elder brother, whose mother had thrown him into the river. Kana'ti and Selu knew he had come from the blood. Kana'ti once told his son to start  and pin wrestling he spirit boy down so Kana'ti could see him. Kana'ti and Selu took the spirit boy home with them. He was a disobedient and wild child, who quickly developed skills in magic. He was called I'nage-utasvhi ("he who grew up in the wild"). I'nage-utasvhi and the real boy followed Kana'ti on a hunting trip one day, because I'nage-utasvhi wanted to find out where he caught all his game. I'nage-utasvhi turned himself into a bit of down, and floated onto Kana'ti's shoulder without his knowledge. He watched Kana'ti make arrows from the reeds of a swamp, then I'nage-utasvhi left and told Kana'ti's son what he had seen. Neither were certain of the purpose of an arrow.

The boys followed him farther and saw him shoot a deer, and then understood the meaning of the arrows. The boys then made seven arrows of their own, in imitation of Kama'ti and went to the same cave. When they tried to scare out a deer to shoot, the whole cave emptied of deer and they were so surprised that they did nothing. I'nage-utasvhi did shoot a deer in the tail, pushing its tail upwards. The boys decided shooting the deers' tails was fun, and did it to all the deer (this is why deer tails go up, instead of down like most animals). After the deer came raccons, rabbits and all the other four-footed creatures, then the birds The birds flapping wings made so much noise that Kana'ti heard what was happening and rushed to the scene. When he saw what was happening, he was furious. So he went up the mountain, and when he came to the place where he kept the game he found the two boys standing by the rock, and all the birds and animals were gone, and without saying a word he went down into the cave and kicked the covers off four jars in one corner. They contained bedbugs, lice, gnats and fleas, which then swarmed all over the boys. When Kana'ti felt they had been sufficiently punished he knocked the insects off the boys who had nearly been bitten to death.

Ever since then, mankind had to hunt to find the animals, who are no longer located in a cave. Now, Selu, the boys' mother, was an excellent cook and kept her foodstuffs in a storeroom. The boys wondered what she did in the storeroom, and they spied on her from a small hole. She leaned over a basket in the middle of the room and rubbed her stomach counterclockwise; the basket filled halfway with corn. She did the same under her armpits and the basket was filled the rest of the way with corn. The boys decided Selu was a witch . She had to be killed, they decided.

Selu read their minds and knew they would kill her. She asked the boys to drag her body around a circle drawn on a cleared spot in front of the house, and watch the circle all night so that they would have maize the next day. They killed her with a club and put her head on the roof of the house facing west. They didn't follow her directions exactly, clearing only seven small spots instead of the one large circle as she said; this is why corn does not grow everywhere, but only in the places where Selu's blood fell as they dragged. They dragged her body only twice, and thus people have to work the crop two times. The next morning (after they watched all night) the corn was full grown.

When Kana'ti came back, he saw Selu's head and was furious. He went to stay with the wolf-people. I'nage-utasvhi once again changed himself into down and accompanied Kana'ti. The wolf people were having a conference, and Kana'ti asked them to challenge his boys to a stick ball game, and then kill them. They agreed. I'nage-utasvhi and his brother (under I'nage-utasvhi's direction) made a wide circle all around the house, making a trail all around except in the direction from which the wolf-people would be coming. They made themselves arrows and waited. As soon as the wolf-people passed through the break in the trail, it magically transformed in a high fence, locking them in. I'nage-utasvhi and Kana'ti's son then killed them all with their arrows, as the wolf-people were trapped. A few escaped to a large swamp. The boys ran around the swamp, and fire sprang up in their tracks and only a handful of wolf-people survived, becoming the modern wolves.

The boys were soon approached by a traveler who asked for the secret of the neverending maize. They gave him seven grains and told them to plant them every night and watch them until morning. The maize multiplied during the night, they told him. On the last night, they fell asleep and did not keep watch. This is why it is now necessary to grow maize for six months instead of one night.

The boys searched for Kana'ti. They sent a gaming wheel in each direction and, when it didn't come back, that was where they went, towards the Land of the Sun. They headed east and found Kana'ti walked with a dog, which was actually the gaming wheel.

The trio reached a swamp and Kana'ti told the boys it was dangerous and they should wait outside. Of course, they followed him again, stumbling across a panther, which inage-utasvhi shot in the head several times, but the panther was unfazed. When Kana'ti returned he asked if the boys had found the panther (knowing they had followed him). They told him they had but that it hadn't hurt them because they were men.

Next, Kana'ti told the boys that they would soon be with a tribe called the Anada'dvtaski("roasters"), a cannibalistic people.

I'nage-utasvhi took some splinters from a tree that had been struck by lighting. When they arrived at the cannibals' village, they saw a large pot that had been set to boiling for the purpose of eating the boys. I'nage-utasvhi put the splinters into the fire which brought down lightning bolts on the cannibal village, killing the cannibals.

Meeting back up with Kana'ti (who was once again surprised by their survival), the boys soon separated from him again and then made their way to the end of the world, where the sun rises. Kana'ti and Selu were sitting there. Then, the boys stayed with their parents for seven days, and then returned to their homeland and were known as Anisga'ya Tsunsdi ("the little men") and their conversations were thunder.

.

The people were hungry sometime later, and retrieved the boys. They sang songs and the wind slowly grew. On the seventh song, deer came out from the woods. The villagers then learned the seven songs, but eventually forgot five, which the Cherokee hunters always sang when hunting deer.

There was a couple named Kana'ti ("The Lucky Hunter") and his wife, Selu ("maize"). Kana'ti was an excellent hunter and never failed to catch some game. Their son played in the river in which Selu washed the blood off of her husband's catch every day. The boy soon began playing with a creature that sprang from the river and called himself his elder brother, whose mother had thrown him into the river. Kana'ti and Selu knew he had come from the blood. Kana'ti once told his son to start  and pin wrestling he spirit boy down so Kana'ti could see him. Kana'ti and Selu took the spirit boy home with them. He was a disobedient and wild child, who quickly developed skills in magic. He was called I'nage-utasvhi ("he who grew up in the wild"). I'nage-utasvhi and the real boy followed Kana'ti on a hunting trip one day, because I'nage-utasvhi wanted to find out where he caught all his game. I'nage-utasvhi turned himself into a bit of down, and floated onto Kana'ti's shoulder without his knowledge. He watched Kana'ti make arrows from the reeds of a swamp, then I'nage-utasvhi left and told Kana'ti's son what he had seen. Neither were certain of the purpose of an arrow.

The boys followed him farther and saw him shoot a deer, and then understood the meaning of the arrows. The boys then made seven arrows of their own, in imitation of Kama'ti and went to the same cave. When they tried to scare out a deer to shoot, the whole cave emptied of deer and they were so surprised that they did nothing. I'nage-utasvhi did shoot a deer in the tail, pushing its tail upwards. The boys decided shooting the deers' tails was fun, and did it to all the deer (this is why deer tails go up, instead of down like most animals). After the deer came raccons, rabbits and all the other four-footed creatures, then the birds The birds flapping wings made so much noise that Kana'ti heard what was happening and rushed to the scene. When he saw what was happening, he was furious. So he went up the mountain, and when he came to the place where he kept the game he found the two boys standing by the rock, and all the birds and animals were gone, and without saying a word he went down into the cave and kicked the covers off four jars in one corner. They contained bedbugs, lice, gnats and fleas, which then swarmed all over the boys. When Kana'ti felt they had been sufficiently punished he knocked the insects off the boys who had nearly been bitten to death.

Ever since then, mankind had to hunt to find the animals, who are no longer located in a cave. Now, Selu, the boys' mother, was an excellent cook and kept her foodstuffs in a storeroom. The boys wondered what she did in the storeroom, and they spied on her from a small hole. She leaned over a basket in the middle of the room and rubbed her stomach counterclockwise; the basket filled halfway with corn. She did the same under her armpits and the basket was filled the rest of the way with corn. The boys decided Selu was a witch . She had to be killed, they decided.

Selu read their minds and knew they would kill her. She asked the boys to drag her body around a circle drawn on a cleared spot in front of the house, and watch the circle all night so that they would have maize the next day. They killed her with a club and put her head on the roof of the house facing west. They didn't follow her directions exactly, clearing only seven small spots instead of the one large circle as she said; this is why corn does not grow everywhere, but only in the places where Selu's blood fell as they dragged. They dragged her body only twice, and thus people have to work the crop two times. The next morning (after they watched all night) the corn was full grown.

When Kana'ti came back, he saw Selu's head and was furious. He went to stay with the wolf-people. I'nage-utasvhi once again changed himself into down and accompanied Kana'ti. The wolf people were having a conference, and Kana'ti asked them to challenge his boys to a stick ball game, and then kill them. They agreed. I'nage-utasvhi and his brother (under I'nage-utasvhi's direction) made a wide circle all around the house, making a trail all around except in the direction from which the wolf-people would be coming. They made themselves arrows and waited. As soon as the wolf-people passed through the break in the trail, it magically transformed in a high fence, locking them in. I'nage-utasvhi and Kana'ti's son then killed them all with their arrows, as the wolf-people were trapped. A few escaped to a large swamp. The boys ran around the swamp, and fire sprang up in their tracks and only a handful of wolf-people survived, becoming the modern wolves.

The boys were soon approached by a traveler who asked for the secret of the neverending maize. They gave him seven grains and told them to plant them every night and watch them until morning. The maize multiplied during the night, they told him. On the last night, they fell asleep and did not keep watch. This is why it is now necessary to grow maize for six months instead of one night.

The boys searched for Kana'ti. They sent a gaming wheel in each direction and, when it didn't come back, that was where they went, towards the Land of the Sun. They headed east and found Kana'ti walked with a dog, which was actually the gaming wheel.

The trio reached a swamp and Kana'ti told the boys it was dangerous and they should wait outside. Of course, they followed him again, stumbling across a panther, which inage-utasvhi shot in the head several times, but the panther was unfazed. When Kana'ti returned he asked if the boys had found the panther (knowing they had followed him). They told him they had but that it hadn't hurt them because they were men.

Next, Kana'ti told the boys that they would soon be with a tribe called the Anada'dvtaski("roasters"), a cannibalistic people.

I'nage-utasvhi took some splinters from a tree that had been struck by lighting. When they arrived at the cannibals' village, they saw a large pot that had been set to boiling for the purpose of eating the boys. I'nage-utasvhi put the splinters into the fire which brought down lightning bolts on the cannibal village, killing the cannibals.

Meeting back up with Kana'ti (who was once again surprised by their survival), the boys soon separated from him again and then made their way to the end of the world, where the sun rises. Kana'ti and Selu were sitting there. Then, the boys stayed with their parents for seven days, and then returned to their homeland and were known as Anisga'ya Tsunsdi ("the little men") and their conversations were thunder.

.

The people were hungry sometime later, and retrieved the boys. They sang songs and the wind slowly grew. On the seventh song, deer came out from the woods. The villagers then learned the seven songs, but eventually forgot five, which the Cherokee hunters always sang when hunting deer.