Authors: J.F. Bierlein
*
This myth is the basis of the play presented within Shakespeares
A Midsummer Night’s Dream
.
*
This term (pronounced “WAH-cah”) should not be directly translated as “god,” but rather stands for a divine spirit that is associated with a certain place.
†
Spanish for “peasant.”
**
Although the Incas did not have writing, they kept records through the use of color-coded knotted cords, which they called
quipu
(pronounced “KEE-poo”).
*
Tupac Yupanqui, and probably Ollantay, were historical characters who lived roughly during the twelfth or thirteenth century
A.D.,
some three or four centuries before the arrival of the Spanish conquistadores.
*
Samhain (pronounced “SOW-un”) is the feast of Halloween, or the Chnstian All Saints’ Eve. It was on this day that the Gaelic people believed the spirits came to visit the living, and they offered these spirits gifts and food.
†
As we noted earlier, the swan is often, like the serpent, interpreted as one who inhabits two worlds. Compare the swans in the story of Angus Og with the swans that appear in Finnish and American Indian myths. Also, compare Cupid [Greek: “Eros”] with his irresistible arrows and Angus’s birds. Cupid is often pictured as having wings, and Angus flies from place to place as a swan.
Listen to this law, my people,
Pay attention to what I say;
I am going to speak to you in parable
and expound the mysteries of our past.What we have heard and known for ourselves,
And what our ancestors have told us,
must not be withheld from their descendants,
but be handed on by us to the next generation;that is: the titles of the Lord, his power
and the miracles he has done.
When he issued the decrees for Jacob
and instituted a law for Israel,he gave our ancestors strict orders
to teach it to their children;
the next generation was to learn it,
the children still to be born,and these in turn were to tell their own children
so that they too would put their confidence in God,
never forgetting God’s achievements,
and always keeping his commandments.—Psalms 78:1-7
THE VIRTUE OF COMPASSION
T
here was once a hunter from the city of Varanasi [Benares], on the sacred Ganges River. He went out to shoot antelope with his bow and a full quiver of poison arrows. When he was far out into the forest, he spotted a herd of antelope and shot his arrows at them, missing every one. One of his arrows, however, did hit an ancient tree where a kindly old parrot lived. As soon as the arrow struck, the old tree began to wither and die. But the parrot, who had been born in that very tree and spent all of its life there, refused to abandon it.
The parrot remained in the tree, not even leaving to find new food to eat. As the tree withered, so did the parrot. The bird just remained in the very spot where it was born, motionless and mourning in silence. The sky god Indra looked down on the faithful parrot and decided to visit the bird, taking the human form of a noble Brahman.
Indra, in this guise, asked the bird, “Why don’t you leave this tree? It is almost completely dead.” But the parrot replied, “I cannot leave this tree. I was born here; for my entire life, this tree has given me a home, food to eat, and refuge from my enemies. How could I ever leave such a faithful friend?” But Indra replied, “It is you, O parrot, who is a faithful friend.” Deeply moved by the parrot’s loyalty, Indra touched the withered tree and it was restored to life.
Indra then told the parrot, “I have brought the tree back to life, but it is really you, the faithful parrot, that kept it alive.”
With this story of friendship, faithfulness, and the virtue of compassion, everyone who hears it will be blessed; everyone who tells it will be blessed twice.
THE KING, THE HAWK, AND THE PIGEON
T
here was once a beautiful pigeon who was being pursued by a fierce hawk. The pigeon asked King Vrishadarbha of Varanasi for protection. The kindly king said, “Why are you so afraid, little fellow?” The pigeon replied that the hawk was about to tear it to shreds. The king told the pigeon, “I will do all I can to defend and protect you, even if it costs me my own life. The gods have certainly sent you to me as a test.”
Then the hawk came to the king and said, “Look, I understand that you are compassionate, and that you promised the pigeon that you would risk your own life to save its life. However, I am a hawk; hawks eat pigeons. If I don’t have a pigeon to eat, I might starve to death. Now, if you are truly compassionate, you will hand the pigeon over and I can eat it. Then we can forget about all of this business.”
Then the king said, “0 hawk, you can fly anywhere—why don’t you just eat something else? Why not a frog or a bull or any other animal?” The hawk replied that it was not its nature to eat beef or frog or anything but pigeons. At this point the hawk grew impatient and said, “If you feel so strongly about having to protect the pigeon, why don’t you offer me some of your own flesh in an amount equal to the weight of the pigeon?” The king agreed to do this, to the amazement of all his court.
So the pigeon was weighed on a scale and the king actually cut pieces from his own flesh to try to equal its weight, but the little bird always weighed more! The king did this until he was merely a skeleton, and still the little bird weighed more.
Suddenly, the heavens opened and celestial music poured through the palace of the king. The gods had watched the entire proceeding and they were deeply moved by the king’s great loyalty in keeping his vow to a humble pigeon. A shower of nectar fell from heaven and the king was restored to his healthy former condition. Indra himself rode down from heaven in a chariot and carried the king away alive to the highest heaven.
For Indra told all that were there: “It is one thing to make a promise and keep it. It is quite another to keep the promise so well that one sacrifices one’s self. He who puts himself at risk to help another is truly a friend of the gods.” And whoever hears this story will be blessed; whoever tells it will be blessed twice.
GAUTAMA AND THE ELEPHANT
T
here was once a sage named Gautama who found a motherless baby elephant and took care of it. He grew to love this elephant and protected it until it became a mighty beast. Indra was watching all this from heaven, and came to earth in the form of King Dhitarashtra.
In this mortal guise, he tried to take the elephant away from Gautama, but Gautama implored him not to separate him from the elephant who was indispensable to him as a companion; it carried food and water. But “Dhitarashtra” replied that such a handsome animal should be the property of a king, not of some sage living in the forest.
Gautama replied that he did not consider the elephant “property” or a “possession” but, rather, his oldest and dearest friend.
“Dhitarashtra” then tried to buy the elephant, offering Gautama gold, silver, cattle, beautiful maidens, even a palace. Gautama told him, “Even if you go to the realm of Yama [death] and take me with you, you will not be able to take my elephant away from me.”
Indra, as Dhitarashtra, replied, “Those who go down to the land of death ruled by Yama are sinful, and slaves of their desires.” Gautama replied, “There is much truth to be found in the land of the dead; there the weak are equal to the powerful and can even overcome them.” Then the “king” said, “I am too powerful and too holy to go to the land of Yama.” Gautama said, “That may well be, but even if you go up to the highest heaven ruled by Indra, you shall never have my elephant.” This persisted until the “king” said, “What if I go to the place of Brahma the Creator and he tells me that the elephant is mine?”
The sage laughed and said, “Brahma the Creator knows all things and loves all things; your power means nothing to him. But the power of love that I feel for my elephant is more powerful than wealth, weapons, or anything else in the universe. I know who you are—you are Indra, who tests the wise.”
Indra was so delighted by the faithfulness of Gautama to his elephant that he offered the sage any request. Gautama could have asked for riches or property, but all he asked for was to remain with his elephant. Indra told him, “You need not ask for wisdom; you already have that. As for riches, you are the richest man on earth, he who knows the value of a good friend.” Years later, when Gautama was ready to die, Indra took him and the elephant alive together to the highest heaven.
And he who hears this story will be blessed; he who tells it will be twice blessed.
(West Africa)
NOTE
: These stories are of particular interest because they come from the Ashanti of Ghana and were brought to the Americas, where they survive—in the American South, the West Indies, and Brazil—as the “Annancy” stories.
They are wonderful lessons about the results of arrogance.
ANANSI AND THE EAR OF CORN
A
nansi was one of God’s chosen, and he lived in human form before he became a spider. One day he asked God for a simple ear of corn, promising that he would repay God with one hundred servants. God was always amused by the boastful and resourceful Anansi, and gave him the ear of corn. Anansi set out with the ear and came to a village to rest. He told the chief of the village that he
had a sacred ear of corn from God and needed both a place to sleep for the night and a safe place to keep the treasure. The chief treated Anansi as an honored guest and gave him a thatched-roof house to stay in, showing him a hiding place in the roof.
During the night, while the entire village was fast asleep, Anansi took the corn and fed it to the chickens. The next morning Anansi woke the village with his cries. “What happened to the sacred corn? Who stole it? Certainly God will bring great punishment on this village!” He made such a fuss that the villagers begged him to take a whole bushel of corn as a demonstration of their apologies.
He then set down the road with the bushel of corn until it grew too heavy for him to carry. He then met a man on the road who had a chicken, and Anansi exchanged the corn for the chicken. When Anansi arrived at the next village, he asked for a place to stay and a safe place to keep the “sacred” chicken. In this new village, Anansi was again treated as an honored guest, a great feast was held in his honor, and he was shown a house to stay in and given a safe place for the chicken.
During the night Anansi butchered the chicken and smeared its blood and feathers on the door of the chiefs house. In the morning he woke everyone with his cries, “The sacred chicken has been killed! Surely God will destroy this village for allowing this to happen!” The frightened villagers begged Anansi to take ten of their finest sheep as a token of their sincere apology.