From Stories the California Indians Told,
by Anne B. Fisher
Long ago, the Medicine Man of the Gabrielino Indians far down in
the southern part of California, stood watching the leaves fall. He
looked around at the brown hills. He heard the wind rustling the
rushes and poles of the Indian huts. Medicine Man smiled and turned
toward his own hut. The time for story telling was here.
Inside his hut he carefully painted red and white stripes on his
body. The red was as bright as the toyon berries that grew on the
hillsides. The white was like the snow on distant mountains peaks.
Next Medicine Man took his story_telling headdress from its place
among his medicine bags and magic charms. The headdress was like a
hair net, made from the tough strands of the milkweed plant.
Medicine Man pulled the net over his black hair. Through the net,
the soft down from baby eagles' breasts had been drawn. The pale
eagle feathers fluffed out from the meshes to make a fuzzy cap.
When Medicine Man, whom the Indians called Shaman, was ready, he
went outside and called in a loud voice to the Indians:
"Come sit around the fire and I will tell you a story."
From all the huts around, the Indian boys and girls came running.
The people loved stories and they loved Medicine Man to tell them.
One by one they settled down by the crackling fire. The fire gleamed
in their eyes as they listened to the story Medicine Man told.
"Before the time of people on earth," Medicine Man told them, "Kwawar,
the Great Spirit, looked down from his place in the sky. There was
no earth to look at, but only water. There were no trees, no
mountains, no valleys. The Great Spirit looked at all the water and
he made up his mind: he would make land where things could grow.
'But how shall I make land?' he asked himself, looking straight off
into the sky. 'I don't have a single thing to use as a beginning.'
He looked down again. There, suddenly, he saw a giant turtle in
the water. The turtle was so huge it was as big as an island. The
Great Spirit had forgotten about Turtle because he had made turtles
such a long time before.
'I'll make land on the back of Turtle,' he decided.
But Turtle, huge though he was, was not big enough to make the
beautiful land later called California.
He thought and thought what to do. Then an idea popped into his
head. He called down, 'Turtle! Hurry and bring all six of your
brothers here where I can talk to them.'
Turtle went swimming off. It took him a whole day to find his
first brother. Then another day to find the second one. Finally, at
the end of six days, he had found them all.
'The Great Spirit wants you,' he told them and led his six
brothers back to where the Great Spirit waited. Each of Turtle's
brothers was as big as he. Floating all together in one place, they
were like seven great islands.
The Great Spirit nodded. The seven turtles all floating in one
spot were big enough to hold up the new land he planned to create.
'Now, Turtle Brothers,' the Great Spirit called down, 'form a
long line head to tail _ a line running north and south. You three
to the south move toward the east a bit.'
The Turtle Brothers did as they were told.
The Great Spirit was very pleased. 'You'll make a wonderful
California!' he told them. 'Now, stay just where you are in the
water. You must always stay very, very quiet just where you are,
because this is a great honor I have given you _ to bear California
on your backs.'
The Turtle Brothers obeyed and stayed very still.
'Now for some land where things can grow,' Great Spirit murmured.
He took some tules (rushes) from his supply in the sky and spread
them rather thickly over the backs of Turtle Brothers. Then he
scooped up some earth from his giant pile and spread it over the
tules and patted it down well.
'These humps on the Turtle Brothers' backs will make good
mountains,' he said to himself.
When the soil was all patted down he wiped his hands on a clean
white cloud and decided what to do next.
'Trees!' he cried. 'I need some trees to grow.'
He stuck his fingers into the earth on the Turtle Brothers' backs
and made trees grow. Then he let a little water seep up between the
edges of the turtles' shells to make lakes. Water from the lakes
leaked over the earth covering the turtles' backs and made rivers.
The rivers ran down into the sea at the west side.
The Great Spirit studied what he had made and frowned. Everything
was too quiet in the new world.
'That won't do,' said the Great Spirit. 'I need birds to sing.'
He picked some leaves from the new trees, blew on them and they flew
away singing and turned into birds.
The Great Spirit smiled, looking at the new land and the
mountains and the rivers he had made. He looked at the young trees
rustling their leaves. He listened to the music of the birds, and he
turned away satisfied.
Then came trouble. The giant Turtle Brothers began to get
restless. They wanted to swim away.
'I want to swim east,' said one.
'No!' snapped another, 'west is better. West is where the sun
sets. I've always wanted to see where the sun goes down.'
For days and days, the Turtle Brothers kept quarreling among
themselves. They just couldn't agree.
One day four swam east and three swam west!
'Ga_rumble,' went the earth under California. The ground trembled
and split with a grinding noise. A crack opened in the earth,
zigzagging among the trees. The trees shuddered and their roots
twisted. Birds fled into the sky where they wheeled and screeched in
fear.
Suddenly, the earth shaking ceased. The giant turtles stopped
swimming away from each other. All the tules and earth that the
Great Spirit had piled on their backs was too heavy to carry far.
Also, the land was so packed and hardened that it held them back.
They could only swim the width of the crack in the earth. There was
nothing to do but try to make peace among themselves. They made
peace and the earth stopped shaking.
But even now, every once in a while, the Turtle Brothers that
hold up California start quarreling among themselves again. Each
time, the ground shakes and the trees quiver. Sometimes, the huts of
Indians and buildings of white men go down. A crack splits through
the earth. Then, when Turtle Brothers make peace, everything becomes
quiet once more.
At times, even the sky where the Great Spirit lives shakes. But
this is not because of the Turtle Brothers fighting among
themselves. It is because people are fighting. When people on earth
fight each other, there is a great shudder in the land above the
clouds. The clouds crack open and the Great Spirit looks down
through the crack. He grows very sad when he sees men quarreling."
This is the story Medicine Man told to his people, the
Gabrielinos knew that it was true because they could see the
mountains and hills and rivers running over the humps of the seven
Turtle Brothers. There the turtles were, underneath all, floating
head to tail from the north of California to the south.
As the Indians listened to their Shaman around the campfire, they
hoped that Turtle Brothers would not start quarreling and make the
earth quake. And they hoped that there would be no fights among
themselves, for each Gabrielino knew that it was bad luck to fight
each other and shake the home of the Great Spirit.
Here are some websites you can check out if you
want to know more about
the Tongva/Gabrielino tribe of California Native
Americans.
http://www.gabrielinotribe.org/
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Tongva
http://cogweb.ucla.edu/Chumash/Tongva.html
