The Carib Story of the Flood
[Note:
The Caribs are Indians who
formerly lived in Central America and the
West Indies. When the
white men came to their country, they killed or captured most of the Caribs, and now a handful of people is all that
remains of the ancient race.]
By A. Hyatt Verrill
From Everyland magazine, August 1917. Digitized by Doug Frizzle February
2012.
MANY, many years ago, when the world was new, and birds and beasts could talk
to man, and the sun and moon came
down from the sky and walked about the earth, the
first Carib came.
But in this land there was little to eat, for man was then friendly with all the
birds and beasts and had not learned to kill them
and devour their flesh. Very soon the Carib noticed that the
tapir went each day into the forest
and returned well filled with food, and knowing he must have some spot at which
he ate, the Carib spoke to him and
said, "Tell me, O Maipoori, where to find the
food upon which you grow so sleek and fat, for I am hungry and know not where
to seek food." But the tapir
was greedy, and refused to tell.
Then the
Carib called the woodpecker and told
him to follow the tapir and see
where he went each day. The woodpecker agreed, and the
next morning, when the tapir rose
from his bed among the reeds by the river-side and went to seek his food, the woodpecker followed, flying from tree to tree,
and ever keeping the tapir in view.
But the
woodpecker was hungry, and each time he lit upon a tree, he tapped loudly with
his bill, searching for worms. The tapir heard the
noise, and noticing that the
woodpecker followed wherever he went, he became suspicious and led the bird far astray until the
woodpecker, becoming weary, flew back to the
Carib and told him he could not find the
tapir's feeding place. This made the
Carib so angry, that he raised his club and struck at the
woodpecker. The club, hitting the
woodpecker's head, left a red mark of blood which the
woodpeckers still wear, and to this day, whenever the
bird sees a man, he utters his cry of mortal fear and hides behind a tree
trunk.
Next the
Carib went to the labba, or
paca, and telling him of his troubles, asked the
labba to follow the tapir and find
out where food was so plenty. The labba agreed, and waddled after the tapir, but he soon forgot all about his bargain
with the man, and ate and ate, until
he could hold no more. Then at last he remembered his promise and started to go
to the Carib; but he was so full he
could scarcely move, and feeling drowsy after his feast, he fell fast asleep.
Meanwhile the Carib was starving.
At last he started
forth to seek food for himself. Presently he came upon the labba, sound
asleep, with corn still in his mouth. Then the
Carib, knowing the labba had found
food, seized the creature by the tail and shook him. The labba's tail was so
slender, and the labba was so heavy
with all the food he had eaten that the tail broke off short; and ever since, labbas
have had no tails.
The labba, who is a timid
creature, was greatly afraid of the
Carib's anger; so he quickly led him to a spot where grew a great tree. This
tree was different from all other
trees, for its trunk was of stone, and upon its branches grew every kind of
fruit and seed and root. Some bore corn, others
cassava, others beans, others sugar-cane, others
plantains, others pineapples, and others such useful things as cotton, arrow-canes, and
silk-grass. Some of the fruits and
grains had ripened and fallen to the
ground, and these the Carib ate, but he was not satisfied, so he fell
to work with his ax and chopped down the
tree.
The center of the trunk was hollow, and from the hole gushed a stream of water, which spread over
the land and threatened to drown the man. Then the
Carib seized a basket and placed it upside down on the
stump. This stopped the flow of
water. Then the Carib lay down and
slept.
As the
Carib slumbered, the monkey drew
near. Seeing the basket upon the stump, and curious to see what nice thing the man had placed beneath it, he crept forward, and
lifting the edge of the basket, peeped beneath. Instantly the water rushed forth stronger than ever and
flooded the land, and the Carib and all the
birds and animals barely saved themselves
by climbing into a tall palm-tree.
There they
sat and waited for the waters to go
down, and the red baboon, growing
impatient, opened his mouth and roared and howled so loudly that his throat was
swollen. To this day all the baboons
have swollen throats, and they howl
and roar louder than all other
creatures.
But the
flood still continued, and the Carib
busied himself by throwing palm nuts into the
water to judge its depth by the
sound of the splash, until, at last,
he knew the water was going down.
Then bits of earth showed
above the water, and the Carib and the
birds and beasts started to descend. The trumpet-bird was in such a hurry that
he flew quickly down and landed in an ants' nest, and the
ants, crawling up his fat legs, bit and gnawed at them
until they were thin and spindly as
you see them to-day, while the pain of the
ants' stings made the poor bird
dance and hop about, just as trumpet-birds still hop and dance in the forest.
As soon as the Carib reached the
ground, he tried to make fire by rubbing two sticks together,
and at last he made a tiny spark. As he turned his back a moment, the marudi, or bush turkey, saw the spark, and thinking it a firefly, gobbled it up
and flew away. The spark burned the
marudi's throat; and all marudis still have their
necks red and bare of feathers,
where the spark burned the marudi long ago.
When the
Carib missed the spark he had made,
he became angry and cried out to all the
birds and beasts, demanding who had stolen his fire. And all the birds and beasts answered that it was the alligator, whom they
hated for his ugliness, although he was harmless and gentle in those days. Then
the Carib grew furious, and seizing the alligator's tongue, tore it out. That is why the alligator has but a tiny bit of a tongue and
lives by himself in the water and
hates all other creatures and kills
all that come near.
At last the Carib made fire and cooked some food, but in the flood most of the
fruits and seeds and roots had been carried away, so the
man, having gathered up as many as
he could find, dug holes in the
earth and planted them, that he
might never go hungry again.
So to-day the fruits and seeds that once grew on the stone tree are found throughout the land, where they
were carried by the waters, and man
plants only the few that were saved
from the flood. And that you may
know this story is true, you may still see the
stump of the great stone tree
standing up near the river and
rising far above the forest round
about.
No comments:
Post a Comment