Latest / Sandman Stories Presents / EP 317: Sioux- 13th and 14th evenings (Eastman)

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EP 317: Sioux- 13th and 14th evenings (Eastman) · Sandman Stories Presents

• 0:21
  Welcome back listeners to Sandman's Stories Presents, a
• 0:23
  folklore podcast where I read you to sleep or until the next
• 0:26
  story. I'm your host, Dustin.
• 0:28
  And if you want more Sandman that's too spicy for the main
• 0:31
  feed, go over to the Patreon. Check out Sandman Stories After
• 0:35
  Dark and you can get it for as little as $3 a month.
• 0:39
  That was free. FREE.
• 0:42
  And today we are back in the book of Souf folklore written
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  down by the Eastman family. We have two stories.
• 0:49
  The 1st is about the battle between Wakiyan and Unktayi, and
• 0:56
  the second is about the first man in the world.
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  OK, let's begin the 13th evening.
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  Grandfather, were you scared last night?
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  Asks Wawa, the boldest of the boys, just before the circle has
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  fully settled down into quietness.
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  Thunder isn't heard very often round here.
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  My little sister cried bitterly and uncle said that it is a bad
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  luck. Omen, that is what I thought
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  once, my grandson, replies the old sage with a calm smile.
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  But I am an old man, and I have heard the Thunderbirds speak
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  even louder both in and out of season, yet no evil came to our
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  people. I truly think that the Great
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  Mystery has set limits on the terror of these warriors so that
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  we do not need to tremble before them like in the old days when
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  their laws were not fully known. There is a very old story
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  concerning this, which I will tell to night the wars of
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  Wakiyan and Unctai. Wakiyan is the great bird of
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  storm and Tempest, who was appointed in the beginning of
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  things to tend the earth and to keep the upper air pure and
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  clean. Although sometimes there is
• 2:19
  death and destruction in his path, still he is the servant of
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  the great Mystery, and his work is good.
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  But he only rules half of the year.
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  The other half is ruled by Wazia, the spirit of cold, and
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  he too purifies the air and the water.
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  When Wazia, the north Wind, the cold maker, comes, the animals
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  put on thicker robes, and some even change the colors to be
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  like that of the white blanket that he lays over the earth.
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  Then the waters are imprisoned for a season, and all things
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  sleep and rest. Then comes Hiyoka, the South
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  Wind, also called the Fool Wind, who is the herald of the
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  Thunderbird, and causes all the trees and the plains to put on
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  their garments of green. For ages there had been war
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  between the Thunderbird, the ruler of the upper air, and the
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  water monster, or Uncti, the ruler of the deep.
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  Whenever a black cloud appeared in the sky and cast its
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  threatening shadow upon the water, all the fishes knew that
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  it was a warning to swim down to the floor of their watery home,
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  the deep dark realm, away from the powers of his arrows.
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  Even the sea birds must seek their sheltered coves and hiding
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  places, pull their downy blankets down tight and be
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  still. For now, Walkian would sweep sea
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  and air with his mighty wing and punish the disobedient.
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  All was quiet before his approach.
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  His breath was The Tempest, the roll of Thunder was his drum
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  beat, and the lightning's flash was a tomahawk.
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  On his approach the face of the deep was thrown into a mighty
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  commotion. Column after column of white
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  warriors boldly advanced upon the land, and broke upon the
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  rocky shore with a loud war whoop.
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  Such was the combat of the spirits of the air and water, at
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  which all living creatures hid themselves and trembled.
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  At last the great peacemaker, the sun, appeared, holding in
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  his hand the rainbow, like a flag of many colors, a sign.
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  The battle is over. He sent each of the warriors to
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  his own place. Gentle airs came down from above
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  to meet and play with the little waves that danced upon the blue
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  water. He who is our father, the father
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  of our bodies, whose wife is our mother, The earth which is
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  safety and peace for all his children.
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  Therefore he still watches the unruly ones from the middle of
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  the sky, and their battles are quickly ended.
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  The end. OK, and the 14th evening.
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  Now I shall tell you of the first man, and how he came upon
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  earth as an infant, yet without father or mother.
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  Listen closely, my children, for you should never forget this
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  story. The little boy man at the
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  beginning of things, he who was first created, found himself
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  living alone. The earth was here before him,
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  clothed in green grass and thick forests and populated with the
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  animal tribes. At that time.
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  They spoke one language, and the lonely 1 was heralded by them
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  everywhere as he roamed to and fro over the world, both upon
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  dry land and in the depths of the sea.
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  One day when he returned to his teepee from a long wandering, he
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  felt a pain in his left foot and lo, a splinter in his great toe.
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  Drawing out the splinter, he tossed it upward through the
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  smoke hole of the lodge. He could hear it roll and rattle
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  down over the Birch bark covering, and in the instant
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  that it touched the ground there arose the cry of a newborn
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  child. He who was first created at once
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  came forth and took up the infant who was the Boy Man, the
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  father of the human race here upon earth.
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  Now the little boy Man grew and flourished, and was perfectly
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  happy under the wise guidance of his friend and elder brother,
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  although he had neither father nor mother, and only animals as
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  playmates. It is said that no child of
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  human parents has ever LED such a free and happy life as he.
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  In those days there was peace between the animals and the Boy
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  Man. Sometimes they challenged him to
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  a friendly contest, whereupon he who was first created taught his
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  little brother how to outwit them by clever tricks and
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  devices. This he was often able to do,
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  but not always, for sometimes the animals, by their greater
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  strength, finally overcame him. One morning the boy man set out
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  from his lodge as usual to do his aged work, but he did not
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  return at night, nor for many nights afterward.
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  He who was first created mourned and wailed long for the lost
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  one. At last he became angry and set
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  out to look for the bones of his brother.
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  He travelled from the east to the West across the world, but
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  found no trace of him, and all of the land creatures that he
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  questioned declared that they had not seen him pass by.
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  Next he followed the rivers and the shores of the Great Lakes,
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  and one day he heard an old woman singing as she cut down a
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  tree at the edge of the water. The traveller came closer to
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  hear the words of the song, and lo, it was the song of the Scalp
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  dance, and in it she spoke the name of the Lost Boy Man.
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  He who was first created now turned himself into a
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  Kingfisher, and so he snuck up and talked with the old Beaver
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  woman. From her he learned that his
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  younger brother had been enticed into the great water and
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  destroyed by the monster of the deep Unk Dei.
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  There Bonnie went down to the shore and changed himself into a
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  tall pine overlooking the lake. For many moons he who was first
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  created remained like that, until at last he beheld 2 huge
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  forms rising up in the midst of the waves.
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  The monsters gradually glided towards the shore and lay
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  basking with the sun at his feet, gently rocking with the
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  motion of the quiet water. It was old Unk Tahi and his mate
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  husband. Exclaimed the wife of UNC Tahi.
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  For ages this has been our resting place, and yet I have
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  never seen this tree before. Woman, the tree has always been
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  there. Returned the water monster, but
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  I am sure it was not here before, she insisted.
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  Then UNC Tahee wound his immense scaly tale about the giant pine
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  and tried to pull it out by the roots.
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  The water foamed and boiled at his struggles, but he who was
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  first created stood firm, and at last the monster gave up the
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  attempt. There he declared.
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  I told you it has always been there.
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  His wife appeared satisfied, and presently the gentle waves
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  rocked them both to sleep. Then he who was first created
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  returned to his own shape, and with his long spear he stabbed
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  each of the monsters, so that with groans of pain they dove
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  down to their homes at the bottom of the great lake, and
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  the waters boiled above them, and the foam was red with their
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  blood. The end.
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  Oh my, to end with a battle like that.
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  And I guess sometimes listen to your wife.
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  No, no, that tree's always been there.
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  Maybe not. I like the first story about the
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  water cycle and the second one about the explaining the world
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  in the seasons. These stories are so much fun
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  and the book is only about halfway done, so I'm hoping
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  you're enjoying it like I am. And the podcast shout out is to
• 11:09
  Fabulous folklore. IC Sedgwick does a great job of
• 11:12
  covering UK folklore. You should go give her a listen.
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  And the listener shout out is to Chittagong.
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  It is the second largest city in Bangladesh and if I get the
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  chance to visit, I would love to go diving for the pink pearls
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  found there. And so I say in Bengali to my
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  listener in Chittagong Dania Bada Ebaron Subarachi.
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  Thank you and good night.