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Nighthawk · Posted: Wed Sep 21, 2005 7:22 pm Post subject: The Storytelling Stone

The Storytelling Stone

A sudden breath of cool night air entered the lodge and immediately dark shadows leapt onto the walls; strange fantastical beasts that loomed, pounced and took flight, growing large and diminishing changing shape and form, as graceful as smoke; shape-changers captured by firelight. Stark, fearless beings indifferent to those who watched wide-eyed with wonder. The flap sank back into place, the lodge grew warm again, the shadows ceased their frantic dance as if by some unspoken word and paused, as if they too were waiting…

Somewhere, beyond the firelight a dog howls, it is a long mournful cry and, for a moment there is silence then, from the distance Wolf speaks and the dog’s call is answered. The scene is set. Round eager eyes turn back to the firelight and gaze expectantly at the old woman in their midst.

It is time for lessons, wisdom of the ancestors handed down from generation to generation and brought to life through the old one, the storyteller. It is learning but for the children it is a highlight of the day.

The old woman gazes around at the expectant faces of the children and the
rest of her audience, for it is not only the young who cherish these moments, but it is the excitement, the fervent hunger for knowledge that she sees in those young eyes that makes her smile. She bends forward and places two large stones close to the fire, holding them in her hands, her fingers caressing their smooth surface.

“In the long ago time,” she begins, “there was an orphan boy who grew up to be strong and very wise”. The children were silent, only the sparkle in their eyes and the broad grins betrayed their pleasure at the recognition of the old favourite, The Storytelling Stone.

Nighthawk · Posted: Wed Sep 21, 2005 9:22 pm Post subject: storytelling stone

The grandmother's voice was soft and musical as she continued her story.

“The day came when his aunt presented him with a fine bow and arrow.
‘It is time for you to learn to hunt. Go to the forest and bring back food.’
He set off with the dawn and shot three fat birds, but then the sinew that bound the feathers to his arrow came loose. He saw a large flat-topped rock
at the edge of the river and sat down to mend it.

“Shall I tell you a story?’ a deep voice said.
He glanced up expecting to see a man standing there, but there was no one.
‘Shall I tell you a story?’ came the voice again.
The boy felt nervous, afraid. He looked up, searching the trees and the river bank in every direction, yet he still saw no-one. When the voice called out again he looked down at the large stone on which he sat .
“Stone?”
“Shall I tell you a story?”
“What is a story?” the boy asked.
“Stories are what happened in the long-ago time.” The stone answered “My stories are like the stars that never fade.”

The stone began telling its stories. When he finished one story it began another and then another. And all the while the boy sat with his head bowed, listening intently.
Towards sundown the stone suddenly said:

“We will rest now. Come again tomorrow and bring back the people of your village to listen to my stories. Tell each to bring a gift.”
That evening the boy told the whole village about the storytelling stone. And so it was next morning that the people followed him into the forest. Each person put meat or bread or tobacco on the stone before sitting down.

When all was quiet the stone spoke:
‘Now I shall tell you stories of the long ago. Some of you will remember every word I say, some only part, others none at all. Now listen closely.
The people bent their heads and listened.
By the time the stone had finished the sun was almost down. The stone then said,
“My stories are all told. Keep them and tell them to your children and your children’s children and so on down the ages. And when you ask someone for a story always give a gift.”
And so it was. All the stories we know came from the stone and from the stone came all the wisdom we have..

Stories are the bones of the earth: they are alive and must be treated with respect.”

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