You have read several myths from early North American cultures. What feature do these myths have in common?
They are about powerful sky gods.
They encourage lying.
They feature animal characters.
They are based on science.
These are the storys
In the days when there were only animals on Earth, there was darkness everywhere―except in the tepee of an old chief. He owned all the light, fire, and water, which left everyone else in the world pretty miserable. The other animals pleaded with the old chief for light, but he would give them none. Therefore, they tried to get it by trickery.
All the animals put on their masks and their dancing aprons and went to the old chief's lodge for a dance. He did not invite them. They went. They were going to get light one way or another.
Each animal sang its own song. Fox kept singing, Khain, khain, khain, so the other animals decided to call him Khain, which means, "He cries for daylight."
The old chief steadily refused to share his light, yet the animals continued singing, each its own song in its own language. All of the songs meant Light, light, light, light!
The animals sang so loudly and so steadily that light began to steal up into the sky, like a faint dawn. The old chief saw it. At once he shouted, Let there not be . . . ! Let there not be . . !
Had the chief finished his sentence and said light, light would have come. Instead, the light disappeared at once below the edge of the sky.
The animals, though, kept on dancing and singing―they hoped to tire out the old chief. And again, light began to steal into the sky. This time the old chief saw what was happening. He became so upset and distracted that the noise of the singing confused him, and he shouted, Let there be―light!
Immediately the light came up into the sky, where it has been ever since―except at night, of course, when it belongs only to the chief.
An emu egg was hurled up to the sky and struck a great pile of wood which had been gathered by a cloud man named Ngoudenout. The egg hit the wood with such force that the pile instantly burst into flame, and it flooded the Earth with the soft, warm light of dawn.
The flowers were so surprised that they lifted their sleepy heads to the sky and opened their petals so wide that the glistening dewdrops which night had given them fell to the ground and were lost.
The little birds twittered excitedly on the trees, and the fairies, who kept the snow on the mountain tops, forgot their task and allowed the snow to thaw and run into the rivers and creeks. And what was the cause of this excitement?
Away to the east, far over the mountains, the purple shadows of night were turning grey; the soft, pink-tinted clouds floated slowly across the sky like red-breasted birds winging their way to a far land. Along the dim sky-line a path of golden fire marked the parting of the grey shadows, and down in the valley, the white mist was hiding the pale face of night.
Like a sleeper stirring softly at the warm touch of a kiss, all living things of the bush stirred at the caress of dawn. The Sun rose with golden splendor in a clear blue sky, and, with its coming, the first day dawned. At first the wood pile burned slowly, but the heat increased, until at noonday it was thoroughly ablaze. But gradually it burnt lower and lower, until at twilight only a heap of glowing embers remained. These embers slowly turned cold and grey. The purple shadows and white mists came from their hiding-places, and once again the mantle of night was over the land.
When Ngoudenout saw what a splendid thing the Sun was, he determined to give it to us forever. At night, when the fire of the Sun has burnt out, he goes to a dark forest in the sky and collects a great pile of wood. At dawn he lights it, and it burns feebly until noonday is reached, then it slowly burns away until twilight and night falls. Ngoudenout, the eternal wood gatherer, then makes his lonely way to the forest for the wood that will light the fire of the Sun for the next day.
NO LINKS PLS
