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Some of the 86 pages in this Myth & Lore section are below.
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This story was passed onto me from
my dear friend, Advent (Gary Ness) and I love it.
There was an old warrior who lived
in a village by the lake. Too old to do men's work, he would
gather wood for the camp with the women. They had gathered all
the wood near the camp and needed to follow the shore to where
the forest started to harvest more. The sun was setting and
they still did not have enough wood so the old man went deeper
into the forest, losing sight of the lake and his way back to
it. As dusk settled in everything began to meld together and
he was confused.
His arms full of wood, he wandered
around in circles growing very tired so he sat beneath a tree
resting his back. It would be dark soon, the wild animals would
come out, and he knew his life was in danger. Wolf and Bear
could claim it and he began to grow frightened so he started
to pray. "Spirit, please show me the way home." But
nothing happened and he started to doze off fighting sleep.
Suddenly he heard the call of the Loon. He knew this was a bird
of the water, it's call came from the lake and he tried to follow
it as fast as he could. But Loon stopped calling.
Again the old man felt the exhaustion
take over and again he rested by a tree, this time the fear
was not enough to keep him from falling asleep. He'd no sooner
slipped into slumber than once again Loon called and woke him.
He listened to be certain which direction the call came from
and he heard it again, he followed the call but it stopped as
before and all went silent.
The old man sat beneath the shelter
of another ancient tree, listening to sounds that told him the
wild creatures were stirring and moving about. His fears rose
considerably, and he knew that it may be his last night. The
women had returned to camp without him and the people of the
village were worried. It was too dark to send out a search party,
so they lit a huge fire in hopes that he would see it and find
his way home. He did not come forth.
Once again Loon called out into the
night and once again the old man listened intently to the cry.
It was closer than before and it continued long enough for him
to follow until he heard the sound of lapping water. The shoreline
was near and he followed the water's voice when the Loon grew
still. Suddenly he broke free
of the density of the trees and the lake was before him. He
had stepped into the night to realize that he was much further
from the encampment than he thought but he knew the shoreline
would take him home and the fire blazed to show him the way.
It was Loon who had saved his life,
and the debt of gratitude he felt needed to be repaid. He saw
the Loon sitting on the water looking back at him and he had
nothing to give, he was old, no longer did he earn his way and
his belongings were meager. Setting down his bundle to address
Loon and offer his thanks, the necklace his grandfather had
made for him fell forward and hit him in the chin. His hand
went to it and touched the fine shells beaded together by hand,
traced the craftsmanship of his Ancestor, and then lifted the
necklace off over his head.
Raising his arm, the old man tossed
the necklace high into the air and out over the lake. As he
did Loon lifted his head and caught it around his neck. The
old man gathered the wood and made his
way back to the camp where many gathered to celebrate his safe
return and listen to his story. He had given his only possession
that remained from his family heritage, given what meant most
to him, and to this day Loon wears the beaded necklace as a
reminder. Its gift received, and given for its haunting voice
calls into the darkness to guide those who are lost, Guardian
of the veil between Earth and Water. It wears that necklace
in pride, with humble honor.
Copyright: Cinnamon Moon & River WildFire Moon (Founders.)
All rights reserved.
constructed by Dragonfly