How The Bee Got its Stinger

As a young kid there was only one thing better than walking down to Weaver’s pond and swimming on a hot afternoon. On the way back to Grandfather’s it was going by his bee hives. These were old bee hives made out of hollowed logs with the tops covered with old oak planks. They were always loaded with honey and the bees were always busy working to make more. Ududu (grandfather) had been tending these hives for as long as I could remember.

I would stop at one of the hives, remove the rock that held the planks on the top,
take a long stick and poke it down into the hive. When I removed the stick it would be covered and dripping with delicious fresh honey. I did this almost every day. I may have just been a kid but I was smart enough to make sure ududu was no where around. My sweet tooth got so bad (greed) that I took one of Ulisi (grandmother) silver spoons and hid it by one of the hives. You can get more honey with a big spoon then you can with a stick. The bees never seemed to bother me and tolerated this invasion.

They say all good things must come to an end. My attacks on the bee hives finally came to a terrible end. One hot summer day as I lifted the planks to get several spoons of honey, apparently I caught them in a bad mood.

By the time I had run to the back door I had already been stung about twelve times. Fortunately or unfortunately, depends on how one looked at it, Ududu was sitting on the back steps stripping some willow branches.
Still swatting at honey bees I sat down next to Ududu and tried not to cry out in pain.

Ududu continued stripping the willow branches in silence, not even giving me a second glance. As the tears began to roll down my face and the red welts began to grow larger, he finally spoke.

“Usdi Duya, have you been in my bee hives again”? He rose from the steps and walked over to where he had some special tsola (tobacco) growing.

I sat there wiping away the tears trying to figure out how to get out of the trouble I knew I was in. How did he know I had been robbing the hives? I respected Ududu to much to even consider telling an untruth. I was raised not to lie, that was the Tsalagi way. One only spoke truth.

He returned chewing a big mouth of tsola and sat back down and said,
“A question usually requires an answer. “ His voice was stern but not angry.
“Yes Ududu, I have been in your hives,” I said. As I said those words I could feel the shame in my voice.

Ududu turned to me and spit out the chewed tsola into his weathered hand.
He began smearing the chewed tsola on the bee stings. The red welts began to become smaller and the pain eased.

I looked at Ududu and said, “I am sorry, I did not ask permission of the bees before I took their honey. I am sorry that I did not ask your permission. I don’t understand why the Ulnelanvhi (Creator) gave a little insect such a hurtful stinger.”

Ududu reached over and picked up his Mason jar of iced tea, offered me a drink, then took a big drink himself and put the lid back on it and sat it down.
He leaned back and stretched out his legs and let out a sigh.

“Usdi Duya, In the long ago times when Turtle Island was still new and the people were more pure and could talk with the animals and the Unelanvhi (Creator) would visit with them, the people asked the Unelanvhi for something that was uganasdv (sweet) to the taste. So the Unelanvhi sent the wadulisi (bee), but the wadulisi had no stinger. The wadulisi found a suitable tree in which they could build their hive. A place to live in and produce honey, multiply and feed its young. Soon the people came to the wadulisi and asked for some of the sweet syrup and the wadulisi gave each person a atlisdodi (bowl) full. The people loved the syrup and greedily ate it, then went back to the wadulisi for more.

But the Queen wadulisi (the wadulisi had a matrilineal society just like the Tsalagi) replied, 'I have no more to give you for a while. You will have to wait.' The people were not alihelisdi (happy), as they craved the uganasdv syrup. So they called upon the Unelanvhi, saying, 'the wadulisi does not give us enough of the uganasdv syrup. We want more.'

The Unelanvhi listened and sent down the Atsilvsgi (Flower) People. The Atsilvsgi People began to spread all types of anitsilvsgi (flowers) across the land giving the wadulisi greater access and variety of anitsilvsgi (flowers) to pollinate and make more honey. The Atsilvsgi People spread all kinds of beautiful wild flowers around to attract the wadulisi; bright blue, red, orange, purple and yellow. More wadulisi were created to help pollinate the anitsilvsgi.

The hive grew to be udohiyu equa (very large). The people seeing how equa the hive was went to get more of the uganasdv (sweet) syrup. So the wadulisi gave all the syrup to the people but left enough to feed their young. The people devoured the syrup and wanted more. The wadulisi responded, 'We don't have anymore, you will have to wait.'

The people were angry and asked the Atsilvsgi People to make more flowers so they could have more of the uganasdv syrup to eat. The Atsilvsgi People responded, 'We made all the flowers we could and they are all pollinated. You will have to wait until Spring.'
'No, said the people, 'We want more now.' So they went back to the wadulisi hive and tore it apart killing almost all of the wadulisi and taking the syrup. The remaining wadulisi were angry.
They asked the Unelanvhi what to do. The Unelanvhi (Creator) was also upset at the behavior of the people, so he told the Atsilvsgi People to create some 'briar bushes' and for the wadulisi to eat the briars.

The wadulisi did as the Unelanvhi said, they ate the briars and these were transformed into stingers. The Atsilvsgi People created an entire briar patch around the bee's tree.
The next day, the people came back and started toward the wadulisi hive for more syrup; but the briars around the tree scratched and tore at their bodies. Some of the people made it through the briars to the hive. Covered in welts, they yelled at the wadulisi, 'Give us some more syrup now, or we will do the same as we did yesterday, kill your young and destroy your home.'
The wadulisi became angry and a loud hum came from the hive in the tree, and out they swarmed. The wadulisi stung the people all over until they were covered in welts and sent them running.

After that day, the people treated the wadulisi, anitsilvsgi, and digakohidi (plants) with great respect and always promised to ask permission and replace whatever they asked for and never be greedy or take more than they needed.”

“Now, Usdi Duya, I have work to do. Perhaps you can find something to do also.”
Ududu stood, gathered up his stripped willow branches.

“Wado, Ududu,” I said as he walked off. He nodded his head as he headed toward the water pump. I got up and immediately headed to the wadulisi hive.
The wadulisi were still buzzing around the hive but I had no fear of being stung.
I apologized to the wadulisi for my greediness.
I got grandmother’s spoon and headed to the house to apologize to her for taking it without asking first.

It seemed to me, although I had done wrong, that all was right with the world.
I may have learned a good lesson about greed but to this day honey is still my favorite sweet. And to this day I never take more than I need.

Why the Trees Lose Their Leaves

The walk back from Pete’s grocery was short and I walked it with happy feet.
It wasn’t often that I had money to spend on candy and I was more than happy to part with my nickel. It seems that a nickel just doesn’t go far when it comes to candy.
I had to hurry home and hide my five pieces of candy before my brother found out.

Grandfather was at the pump washing some dandelion greens. It would be disrespectful to go in the house without speaking. My mind started working over-time trying to figure out what I would tell him. You see, Ududu (grandfather) had a notorious sweet tooth, almost as big as mine. If he knew I had candy, he would expect to be offered some.

Ududu spoke first, “Osiyo, Usdi Duya (It is good to see you, Little Bean)”, not even looking up from his task.
“Osiyo, Ududu. Dohitsu (how are you)?”
Grandfather rose to his full stature and looked at me with those eyes that always seemed to look through you. There was never hiding anything from grandfather.
“Osda, osdadv, (good, very good)” he said. As he spoke those words his eyes began to twinkle. I knew I had already been found out. With one hand working the pump handle and the other holding a dipper gourd, grandfather filled it with fresh cool water and offered it to me.
“Wado, Ududu,” I said between sips of water.

“Uwola, (sit)” grandfather said as he pointed to a spot next to the pump.
As I sat there and watched grandfather reach for his personal pipe and his leather bag
of tobacco mixture I knew a story was coming. Now it was me whose eyes began to twinkle. Grandfather sat down on an upturned log next to me and lit his pipe.
Through the blue haze of pipe smoke, grandfather began to speak.

“In the long ago times, the trees and animals were able to talk to one another. They lived close to each other and shared many things; but every year, the cold time (Uyvtlv Iyuwakodi) came and the birds would fly south to where it remained warm (Uganawa) and would return with their families in the spring, when the warm season returned.
One year, as the cold season approached a little bird (usdi tsisqua) was injured. He would not be strong enough to fly to the uganawa lands with his family, so he made his family fly south to the uganawa lands without him.

Injured, he knew he would not survive the uyvtlv season. So he sought out the help of the trees. He approached Oak (Tsusga). ‘Tsusga, I am injured, and cannot fly, the uyvtlv season approaches, and if I do not find shelter before then, I will surely shall die. Howatsu (please), Tsusga, let me shelter among your many leaves and branches during the uyvtlv times, that I may heal and greet my family on their return in the spring.’
But Tsusga was a stubborn old tree, and did not relish the idea of having a guest in the cold time, so he told the usdi tsisqua: ‘Little bird, go find somewhere else to spend the cold time. I do not wish you to spend the cold time with me.’

And the poor little bird was hurt in his spirit and turned away.

So usdi tsisqua went to the Tlvwaga (maple) and asked her. ‘Tlvwaga, I am hurt and not able to fly to the uganawa lands with my family for the uyvtlv season. Howatsu (please) let me stay among your many leaves and many branches during the uyvtlv (cold) time, or I will surely perish.’ And Tlvwaga, though a very sweet tree, did not enjoy the thought of a guest for the cold time and she too, turned the little bird away. ‘ Usdi tsisqua go ask someone else to shelter you. I do not wish for you to spend the uyvtlv time with me.’

And again, hurt in spirit, the little bird was turned away.

Usdi tsisqua went in turn to each of the trees and asked each for shelter in the cold time; and each, and every time, the little bird was turned away...... until there was no tree left to ask, except Notsi (pine). With no hope left..., but not willing to accept death...., the little bird approached Pine.

‘Notsi, I am injured and hurting, and not able to fly south to the uganawa (warm) lands with my family. If I do not find shelter and safety before the uyvtlv (cold) time, I will surely perish. Howatsu (Please)...., let me stay among your leaves and branches during the uyvtlv time...’
Notsi thought to himself, ("I am the least of the trees, what can I do?") ....but his heart heard the little bird's plight. ‘Usdi tsisqua ... My leaves are tiny... more like needles... my branches are not as many as the other trees ... but what I have you are welcome to share.’
And so, usdi tsisqua spent the uyvtlv time with Notsi. And when the warm times returned in the spring, the little bird's family returned. And usdi tsisqua had healed over the uyvtlv time and flew to greet their return.

Unelanvhi (Creator) had seen and heard all that had happened between the little bird and the trees. And Unelanvhi (Creator) called a great council of the trees and spoke to them..., ‘You, who were given so much......, who had so much, would not share the least of what you had with this little bird in his need. Because of this.., from this day forward, when the uyvtlv time is upon the land, your leaves shall wither and die and blow away.’
Unelanvhi then spoke to Notsi. ‘Notsi, you, who had the least of all the trees, gave so much, have touched my adanvdo (Spirit). When the uyvtlv times come, you of all the trees shall keep your leaves. They shall remain green through all the seasons for the gift you have given me, through the little bird.’

And that is why, to this day, that when the uyvtlv iyuwakodi (cold time) comes to the land, all the leaves wither, and die, and blow away.... except for Notsi.”
Grandfather became silent and removed the bowl from his pipe and placed it in his pipe bag. I knew the story was over and I knew the point had hit me hard. As grandfather rose to continue his work I spoke;
“Ududu, I have some candy, would you like some?” I held out the small bag of candy to him. Grandfather looked at me and smiled as he emptied the contents of the bag on to his weathered hand. My mouth dropped open as he took four pieces and placed the remaining piece back into the bag.

“Wado, Usdi Duya”, he said as he walked away placing a piece of peppermint candy in his mouth. I turned and walked toward the house carrying my little bag with one piece of candy. As I was about to enter the back door I smelled the scent of pine in the air.
In the kitchen my brother was helping grandmother (ulisi) peel potatoes.
With out hesitating, I offered the last piece of candy to my brother.

Later that night as I lay in my bed going over the happenings of the day, I felt the crunch of paper under my pillow. Lifting the pillow I saw a small paper bag. In the darkness I poured the contents of the bag into my hand and found it held five pieces of candy and a shiny nickel.
Again I could smell the scent of Nosti.

Where The Wolf Ran

As a small child some of the greatest words to hear came from my grandfather when he would say, "Usdi Duya (Little Bean) nvla (come)." There would be no telling where we would go or what we would do but you knew it would be something exciting. My heart would leap at the sound of those words.

It was June ("Dehaluyi"), the month of the green corn moon and I was busy tracking a trail of ants through the garden when I heard, "Usdi Duya nvla". By the time I reached the back door Grandfather had his old leather bag and was heading down the road. Catching up and out of breath I asked grandfather where we were going and he replied with one of his short one-word answers, "Equoni." My heart raced faster knowing we were going to the river.

The sun was sinking behind the trees by the time we reached the river bank. Grandfather began walking along the river's edge tying fishing lines to low hanging tree limbs. Seeing this I knew we were there for the night. The sun was gone by the time all the lines were secured and the hooks baited. Now grandfather sat down and pulled out a mason jar of sweet spearmint tea a refreshing treat for the long night ahead. As darkness came closer the noises changed from day light sounds to those of the night creatures. Now stretched out on the river bank we listened to the sounds as we gazed up into the night sky and watched the stars twinkle.

At each sound I would ask grandfather what made the noise. The sound of a fish ("atsadi" ) jumping, the croak of a bullfrog ("kannuna" ). "Close your eyes and see with your ears, grandfather said." See with your ears? "I don't understand, grandfather," ("Tlaigagoliga, edudi" ) I replied. Grandfather had a way of confusing me until I thought out the words. He did not answer, so I listened and saw with my ears. I "saw" the whippoorwill (tsgawalegwala), I "saw" the rabbit (tsisadu) moving towards the water, I "saw" the owl (wahuhi) as it flew lower in search of the rabbit. Opening my eyes I saw millions of stars moving across the sky. I knew that those stars made up the Milky Way.
"Grandfather how did the Milky Way come to be?" Pulling out some of grandmother's homemade bread from his bag, grandfather broke me off a piece and began a story that I remember to this day.


" Listen, Usdi Duya, once there were people in the southern part of the world that made corn meal. The women would pound the dried corn in a pounder with a large stick till it was a fine powder. They would work all day to make the powder and then store it in large kettles, pots, and bowls in a storehouse for the winter. After a few days of pounding the corn they began to notice that some of the kettles were not as full as they were supposed to be. It was being taken. They examined the ground around the storehouse and noticed tracks. They decided to hide and watch the next night to see who was stealing the corn meal.

Seven women decided to hide inside the storehouse. They crouched behind the large pottery kettles and waited. Well after midnight all the women had gone to sleep except one. She watched and waited in the darkness. Suddenly she heard a noise outside and then noticed a bluish glow like a bright moonlight. The light came closer to the storehouse. The woman crouched even further behind the kettles, afraid of what was coming toward her. She picked up a stick laying beside her. The door to the storehouse opened.

In walked a wolf with a strange glow around it. The wolf walked over to one of the kettles that was brimming with freshly made corn meal and began to eat. Suddenly the woman began to scream, waking the other women. They opened their eyes and noticed the wolf inside. They all jumped up and ran towards it. The woman with the stick began hitting it till it ran out of the storehouse. The wolf became so frightened that he jumped into the air and began flying in a wide circle back toward the north. As he flew drops of corn meal fell from his mouth. They glowed as the wolf did and so he left a trail that today we call the Milky Way.

I laid there thinking about this remarkable story as "edudi" silently slipped off into the night to check the lines. Sleep came upon me as I pictured the "waya" flying across the sky. A gentle touch to my forehead woke me as "edudi" stood there with his old leather bag over his shoulder and a large string of fresh catfish in his hand. "Where are we going, grandfather ?", I asked. As he walked off I heard him say in his quiet voice, "owenvsv "(home).

It was this childhood story that was the inspiration for this series of "Cherokee story bowls". "Where The Wolf Ran" ("Waya Tsunstanunyi") is the first in the series as I try to take the stories held in oral tradition and make them a living piece of Cherokee history. I hope you enjoy "reading" the bowl and sharing the story with others.

This gourd bowl measures 21 inches around with a diameter of 7 inches. The opening is 5 inches in diameter with a height of 4 1/2 inches.

It is decorated with blue beads and copper cones with Bluebird feathers. It tells the Cherokee story of how the Milky Way was made.

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