How the Animals Were Made

 The original article had a lot of small drawings of animals, perhaps drawn by Beche, the Carib boy, a PDF copy of the article is here.

How the Animals Were Made

By A. Hyatt Verrill

From Everyland magazine, Sept. 1918; researched by Alan Schenker; digitized by Doug Frizzle Mar. 2012.

The following story is one that Carib mothers tell to their boys and girls. 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.

WHEN Tuminkar, the creator, had made the earth and waters, the rivers and the land, all the forests and the mountains, the plants, the fruits, and the flowers, he tossed the remaining bits of leaves and blossoms and twigs into the air. As he did so, he gave life to them, and they became insects. The flowers became butterflies; the leaves became grasshoppers and similar things; the twigs and bits of earth became beetles, bugs, scorpions, and other crawling things; while the grains of sand became the ants.

Then, taking a bit of clay, Tuminkar modeled it with a head and body and eyes, but he could not make good legs; so, tossing it into the river, he said, "You are too ugly to be seen; go live out of sight in the mud." Thus the manatee was made.

Again Tuminkar tried to make a creature, but still he was not successful. Each piece of clay that he formed was cast into the river and became a fish.

At last, Tuminkar made the snakes and serpents, and by adding legs, he made the frogs and toads. But they were still ugly things, until Tuminkar tried adding a tail and thus made the lizard. He was pleased at the result and made them larger and larger, first the solenodon, then the iguana, and finally the alligator. Then he said to himself, "There must be some one to rule all these creatures. Why should I not make something in my own form which they will know as the ruler of them all?" And so it came about that Tuminkar made men and women and gave them greater knowledge than all other creatures; but at first they were friendly with all things and ate only the fruits and seeds and roots which Tuminkar had provided.

Having made man and woman, Tuminkar decided to make other creatures to live upon the earth with them, for the man and woman found the toads, the frogs, the lizards, and the serpents, dull and ugly creatures, while the insects flew away or stung them and the fishes could not leave the waters to be with them.

As Tuminkar fashioned the new creatures, he gave them voices and calls and asked each where he preferred to dwell and what he would choose to eat. Then, according to their choice, he gave them teeth, claws, and colors.

The first creature he made was the monkey, for Tuminkar had just finished the man and his fingers unconsciously moulded the clay into a shape like the man. Then, in order that the monkey might be easily distinguished from man, he gave him a tail and a coat of hair.

The monkey was so proud of being like man that he strutted about on the ground and could not make up his mind where to live or what to eat; therefore, while he waited for the answer, Tuminkar went ahead with the next beast, the jaguar.

When the jaguar was asked where he would dwell and what he would eat, he glanced about, and seeing the monkey, exclaimed, "I will live on the ground and eat other creatures." With that, he sprang at the monkey. But the jaguar had not yet been given claws and teeth; so the monkey slipped from him and leaped into the nearest tree, screaming, "I will live in the trees and eat fruit.” Here, feeling safe, he chattered at the jaguar and threw fruit at him, and these, striking the jaguar's yellow coat, left black marks, which you may still see. To this day the monkeys chatter when they see the jaguar, and the jaguars love monkey meat better than any other food.

Next Tuminkar made the deer, while the jaguar and the monkey watched. When the deer was finished, he looked at the trees and seeing the monkey so like a man he feared to live there. Then, glancing upon the ground, he saw the jaguar with his cruel teeth and claws. But the deer was fleet of foot and felt sure that he could outrun the jaguar and would be safer on the ground than in the trees; so he said in a very low voice, "I will live on the ground and eat grass." Then Tuminkar gave him his teeth and his hoofs and turned him loose. Instantly the jaguar sprang at him; but the deer was almost out of reach and the jaguar's teeth closed upon the deer's tail, biting a bit of it off and leaving two white edges where the sharp fangs scraped along.

Next Tuminkar made the wild hogs, or peccaries. The hog, when asked where he would like to live, replied, "Make more of us, that we may consult together where best to live and feed." So Tuminkar made more hogs, and consulting together, they decided they would live in the forest and eat roots. As there were many of them, the jaguar feared to attack them, and grunting they ran unmolested into the forest. Ever since that time wild hogs always have lived together in herds.

Then Tuminkar made the labba, or paca. The labba chose to live on the ground, for his short legs and heavy body would not do for climbing trees. As he waddled off, the jaguar sprang upon him, but the labba rolled into the river and the jaguar let go of his hold, and you may still see the white marks of his claws upon the labba's sides and back.

Tuminkar next made the kinkajou. As he formed him, the monkey cried out that all the beasts were choosing the ground and he would be left alone in the trees; so because Tuminkar's ears were filled with the monkey's words, he absent-mindedly formed the kinkajou partly like a monkey. As soon as the kinkajou was finished, and before Tuminkar could ask him where he would live, the monkey screamed, "Say you will live in the trees and eat fruit." Then, being a very greedy creature and fearing there might not be enough for two, he added "and insects and honey." The kinkajou still lives with the monkeys in the trees and eats fruits and insects and honey.

When Tuminkar began to make the agouti, he was interrupted by the monkey, who wanted another companion. Tuminkar became angry this time, and raising his hand, he threw a bit of clay at the monkey. Now this happened to be the clay for the agouti's tail and so the agouti has always had to do without a tail.

After the agouti, Tuminkar made the tapir, and as the monkey looked on from the trees and saw the great beast taking form, he said to himself, 'Suppose that fellow should decide to live in the trees. He is so big and heavy, he will break the branches, and to fill his big stomach would take all the fruit. Of course, he should live on the ground; but if he sees that hungry jaguar, he never will."

But the monkey was afraid to call down to the tapir, as he had done to the kinkajou, for fear Tuminkar would throw clay at him, and, thought he, "Suppose it should strike me; it would be a great nuisance to have a tail or a leg sticking out of my head or my back."

So seeing Tuminkar was busy, the monkey climbed down from the tree, and getting out of sight behind the tapir's back, he whispered in his ear, "Don't say anything." When Tuminkar asked the tapir his choice, the creature was silent for, thought he, "This fellow whispering in my ear is so like a man he must know more than I." Again Tuminkar asked the question, but once more the monkey whispered, "Don't answer," and again the tapir was silent.

Then Tuminkar became vexed and cried out, "You are a stupid beast. Go live where you please and eat what you can get. Be off with you!" So saying, he grasped a stick and struck the tapir across the rump. The stick, hitting the tapir's new-made tail, broke it off; so today the tapir lives on the ground and is silent, while he eats leaves from the trees as well as grass and weeds, and has but a stump of a tail.

Tuminkar saw the monkey scrambling away and guessed he had been up to mischief. Becoming disgusted with the choices of the creatures, he exclaimed, "None of you know what is best for yourselves; so hereafter I'll leave you no choice, but settle the matter myself." "And as for you," he continued, addressing the monkey, "you're a meddler and a mischievous fellow; but I'll soon settle that."

So he made the ocelot, and giving him sharp teeth and claws, he said to him, "Go after that rascally monkey. If you cannot catch him for your food hunt on the ground." The ocelot sprang after the monkey, but the latter had been listening and leaped off and the ocelot's fresh coat was rubbed and blurred and streaked in spots, as he knocked against the branches while chasing the monkey. So, even to-day the ocelot is the monkey's enemy, but when he cannot catch him, he feeds on other creatures on the ground.

So Tuminkar continued to make the animals. He made the coati and the raccoon, the opossum, and the hacka, the fox and the rat, the otter and the squirrel, and many other creatures. At last nearly all the claws were used, and when he came to the sloths, he could spare but three claws for one and two for the other for fear none would be left for the other animals. Then he found he had used the last of the teeth; so, when he made the anteater, he was obliged to let them go without teeth. But he placed so much hair on the ant-bear that none was left, and as he had no teeth and only a few claws, he made the birds, giving them feathers instead of fur and hair, and beaks in place of teeth, and two legs in order to save claws.

Finally only a lump of dirty clay and a few claws were left. Tuminkar formed these into the armadillo; but it was such a naked, helpless thing that he took pity upon it. Rising, he took the basket which had contained the clay, and clapping it over the armadillo, he exclaimed, "You have no teeth with which to bite and no hair to protect you; so live in holes in the earth and hide yourself beneath the basket when you come forth."

To this day, the armadillo lives in a burrow and never is seen without the basket-like covering on his back.

My Funny Pets

WorldCat.org is a website that catalogues the worlds books and periodicals. There is not a great description of Everyland magazine, so I have created a PDF of one complete issue of the July “Philipino” issue. In the process of digitizing ‘My Funny Pets’ by Verrill, the story of the Big Brown Bear on PEI was a remainder, since digital, it is published as well./drf

My Funny Pets

By A. Hyatt Verrill

Everyland magazine, July 1916 from the column ‘Everyland Nature Club’ Care of Everyland, 156 Fifth Avenue, New York City, digitized by Doug Frizzle Dec. 2011.

NEARLY all boys and girls are fond of pets, and ever since I can remember I've owned odd and curious birds and animals; and whenever I've been in queer, out-of-the-way places I have managed to obtain peculiar furred or feathered companions. I would like to tell Everyland readers all about the many strange, funny, and interesting creatures I have had in tropical lands, but as this is not possible I'll try to tell the Nature Club about some pets I had in Central America.

My first was a native deer named Pepito. He was given to me when he was a little spotted fawn, and as he grew older and larger he became so tame he would follow me about like a dog. When we lived in the town, Pepito was kept in the open court or patio of the house, where he ran about at will among the flowers and grass and could drink or bathe at the fountain in the center. But we often made long trips into the country and Pepito always accompanied us. On the train he was perfectly at home, running up and down the center of the car, making friends with the conductor and passengers.

When at last we reached the little village where we stayed, a red or blue ribbon was tied about Pepito's neck and he was free to go where he pleased. All about were mountains covered with forests full of wild deer and other animals, and every morning Pepito would trot off into the woods to spend the day with his wild cousins. Often, when out hunting, I would see a herd of deer and would be surprised to see Pepito come running from among them to greet me. Sometimes, when the others saw how fearless he was and that I did not molest them, they too would come close and would follow a short distance away as I walked along with Pepito.

When the deer was about half grown a young peccary or wild pig was brought to us by a native hunter. These animals are usually fierce and vicious and hard to tame, but this little chap, which we called Chico, was an exception and from the first was very docile and affectionate. He would jump to my lap to be scratched, grunt at our door to wake us in the morning, and followed us everywhere we went.

He and Pepito soon became fast friends and inseparable comrades, and it was a funny sight to see the two trotting up the mountain path side by side on their way to the woods. All the hunters knew Pepito by his ribbon and took care not to shoot him by mistake, and to protect Chico we tied a bell about his neck.

Several months after Chico was added to the family a friend gave us a tame white-faced monkey named Tito. He was a very comical, inquisitive chap. His favorite toy was an old, battered doll, and he would carry this about for hours at a time and was most dejected if it was taken away or mislaid. But Tito's funniest trick, and the one which gave him the greatest pleasure, was to wait in the doorway and, as the peccary ran by, spring on the latter's back and have a free ride. Chico did not mind this, and in fact I think he really enjoyed it as much as the monkey did.

One day the monkey caught sight of the deer, and thinking Pepito would prove a better mount than the peccary he sprang on his back. The deer had never experienced such a sensation before and was frightened almost out of his wits. Evidently his first thought was to make for the woods, and he dashed off with the delighted monkey clinging fast to his back and chattering with joy at his fine ride.

Around the house there was a barbed wire fence, and when Pepito reached this he sprang through between the wires without the slightest hesitation. There was plenty of room for him but there was no space for his rider, and the poor monkey was swept from his seat and left hanging on the sharp barbs. He was badly cut, but he had learned a lesson, and from that time on Pepito's appearance threw him into a fit of rage and fear.

Perhaps the oddest of all the pets I had in Central America was a queer creature known as a kinkajou, or fruit bear. This animal grows to be three feet or more in length and has a little round head, solemn black eyes, sharp teeth, and strong claws. The hair is thick, woolly, and dull yellow in color, but the most remarkable things about the kinkajou are its tail and its tongue. Both are very long and both are prehensile, or, in other words, they can be used like hands.

Kinkajous are very fond of honey, and if they cannot get it in any other way they will reach their long tongues into the bees' nests and lick the honey from the comb. You can imagine that such a creature would make a very interesting pet, and I can't begin to tell you all the funny, unusual things our pet kinkajou did. He was just as curious as a monkey and was forever getting into mischief, but after licking out the contents of an ink-bottle or pulling over the furniture with his tail, he would climb up on my shoulder in such an innocent way and cuddle down in such a confident manner that his misdeeds were always forgiven.

But his curiosity and his "handy" tail proved fatal to him at last. One night he pulled a bottle of jam from a high shelf and with his ever-ready tongue licked up the jam and broken glass together. Even a kinkajou's tough stomach cannot stand such a diet and the following day he died.

Besides these pets we had many others; such as sloths, macaws, parrots, toucans, raccoons, foxes, and even a young jaguar. The last would follow me about like a dog and was very gentle and affectionate with us, but his strength was so enormous and he used teeth and claws so freely on strangers or any one to whom he took a dislike that finally I was obliged to put him in a cage and send him to a menagerie.

The Story of a Big Brown Bear As I Heard My Mother Tell It

By Regina F. Cowan

THE northern end of Prince Edward Island was sparsely settled in the year 1834, when my father leased a farm at Sea Cow Pond. There's a legend that the place derived its name from a herd of sea-cows which were driven ashore during a terrific storm and perished there.

My mother went to housekeeping in a log cabin of two rooms. The front door opened by pulling a thong attached to a latch on the inside, and a wooden button secured the door at night. The upstairs was a small unfinished loft, reached by a ladder. A hatch covered the entrance to the loft. Crude cod and whale oil in tin lamps and home-made tallow candles were used for illuminating. The house was heated by an open fireplace. Part of the cooking was done on a crane and roasts were prepared in a Dutch oven in front of the fire. An unfailing spring well furnished what seemed the most delicious water on this continent, with its old oaken bucket.

My father was out on business one evening, and baby Margaret was asleep when Mother heard something moving outside. She looked out of the window and there stood a big brown bear, his fore paws resting on the window-sill and his wild eyes fastened on the sleeping babe. Mother trembling with fear rushed to the cradle, tenderly pressed her treasure to her breast, and with haste and all the strength she could command climbed the ladder and laid the baby on a sheepskin mat. She came down again and looked for something to give the hungry animal. A box of dried codfish was found, and removing the small window mother threw out a large supply to Bruin, who at this time was trying to break through the door. The bear tore the fish in pieces and ate ravenously and picking up the remainder started off.

When my father returned, he found a very frightened mama. He vowed that he would not rest until he could get a shot at old Bruin. He did not have long to wait. Within a week Mr. Bear called to pay another visit and my father saluted him with an English rifle, and —Mother slept that night.