p>Well it’s been an interesting evening so far, Buck thought as he picked up the last of the toys from the floor. At least they didn’t fight getting ready for bed. The promise of a bedtime story had sent the two children scurrying for the washbasin and then to their room to change. Now all I have to do is come up with something to tell them. With a heartfelt sigh, the young Kiowa went to face his destiny. Grace had turned the wick on the kerosene lamp up, almost to the point where smoke was pouring from the chimney. “I don’t like the dark,” she explained, unrepentant. “Don’t like the dark!” Thomas agreed from his side of the bed. “I wish it would stay light all the time!” Grace continued. “Then we wouldn’t have to worry about the scary things that come out at night.” “There are many things in the night that aren’t scary—like the moon and the stars,” Buck replied, an oft-told story from his own childhood coming to mind. “And there was a time when it was dark all day.” “That can’t happen!” Grace said. Her voice trembled a bit, revealing a lack of certainty. “My people tell a story of a time when Sun believed he was not needed,” Buck told her. “It was a long time ago—before Turtle had her shell even.” “I’ve seen a turtle,” Grace stated firmly. “They all have shells. Papa told me so!” Thomas’ head nodded in agreement but the look in his eyes said maybe he wasn’t as sure. Buck realized that he was encroaching on a very sensitive area. The children were of the age where they had total and complete faith in their parents. “This was a long, long, long time ago,” he explained. Two pair of eyes fixed on his face, searching for some truth in what he said. “Tell us?” Grace whispered. “Tell us the story?” “All right,” Buck agreed. “Hop into bed and I’ll tell you the story of how brave Turtle got her shell.” Seconds later, with the two children securely tucked in, he began. “Darkness had lasted too long, and all the other forest animals knew it was Turtle's fault. Long ago, before Turtle had her hard shell, in order to prove her bravery to the others, Turtle had volunteered for one of the most important and dangerous jobs of the forest.” “Her duty was to bring the Sky Bowl, filled with yellow corn, up to the cliff top each morning before Sun's first light turned the hillside red.” “She would scatter the corn over the earth, and Sun, knowing he was needed, would rise.” “This morning, though, as Turtle discovered when she woke up, the Sky Bowl had disappeared.” “In its place lay a single feather, long curved, and smoky gray. Vulture's feather!” “Vultures are mean and ugly!” Grace’s voice held a determined edge as she sat up. Thomas followed her lead, nodding once again in total agreement. “All animals are beautiful,” Buck corrected. “In this time, long, long ago, Vulture was a beautiful bird with a fine straight beak.” “What did Turtle do?” the little girl asked. “Listen and I’ll tell you,” the man responded. He waited until the pair had settled back before he began again. “Vulture lived in the crags far to the west where Sun set. Even though a beautiful animal on the outside, he was always angry about something—even when there was nothing to be angry about. He complained all the time about how bright the days were and how the nights were always too short. He knew if Turtle didn’t scatter the corn for Sun, Sun would think he was not needed by the creatures of the forest and would not rise. Then Vulture would have his wish of a long night for sleeping and hunting. Turtle was sure Vulture had taken the bowl.” “Mean Vulture,” Thomas mumbled around his thumb. “He did what he thought he needed to do,” Buck explained. “Just like Grace turning the lamp up high to make it bright.” “Since the Sky Bowl was her responsibility,” he continued, “Turtle set off through the forest toward the west. She worried about how she would get the bowl back because the crags were too high and steep for her to climb.” “How did she get up the hill?” Grace asked. “Turtles don’t have very long legs.” “I’m coming to that part,” Buck said. “The story will tell you everything you need to know if you just listen.” “As she emerged into a shadowy clearing, Turtle saw Grizzly, grumbling and rolling as she slept. Grizzlies are very big and very strong—everything Turtle wasn’t. Turtle knew if she could get Grizzly to help her even Vulture would be afraid.” “’Grizzly,’ she called to the bear, ‘I've seen how fast and strong you are and how well you climb. Come help me get the Sky Bowl back from Vulture so Sun can rise.’" “’No,’ Grizzly grumbled, her eyelids heavy. ‘I have to protect my cubs in the dark.’ “Turtle heard the little barks and pants of the cubs behind her and knew this was true. No animal would attack Grizzly’s cubs in the light of day but sometimes the more cowardly would do just that in the dark.” “See!” Grace announced. “Bad things come out in the dark!” Sighing inwardly, Buck replied. “Animals—even man—have to survive any way they can. Some of them are not as smart or big or strong as others and they have to hunt at night so they have an advantage.” “Like the wolves that attacked Mama’s chickens?” Thomas asked. “Like the wolves that attacked Mama’s chickens,” Buck confirmed. “What happened next?” Grace asked. Buck smiled and continued the story. “Turtle thanked Grizzly anyway, then left and continued on. Finally, she broke through the trees.” “At the edge of the wilderness, Moon's cool, hard light fell on Turtle and she shivered. She saw the crags now, their chalky faces rising slowly off the valley floor.” “Just then Eagle glided down over the foothills above Turtle. Eagle was the most beautiful bird in that part of the Earth. He was brave and strong, even braver and stronger than Grizzly. And he was able to fly very, very high. Turtle knew Eagle could easily reach the crags where Vulture hid the Sky Bowl.” “‘Eagle! Help me!’ she yelled.” “Eagle turned his hard, steel-gray eyes on Turtle. ‘What do you want?’ Eagle's voice whistled down like an arrow shooting through the air.” “’You can fly,’ Turtle explained. Soar up to Vulture's nook and get the Sky Bowl back so Sun can rise.’" “’I'm too hungry to fly so high,’ said Eagle. ‘I've been flying for hours, trying to catch something. I can't see well in the dark.’” “Papa says eagles see better than any other bird,” Grace protested. “They do,” Buck agreed. “In the daylight. But at night rabbits and mice are able to hide too easily. Eagles can’t see as well then.” “Okay,” Grace replied, waiting patiently for the story to continue. “Turtle understood how Eagle felt. She was hungry, too, but her breakfast would have to wait until she finished what she had set out to do. Thanking Eagle, Turtle turned away, knowing the job was hers alone.” “She went to the crag, looking up, up, up the chalky stone awash in Moon's cold light. Vulture's nook sat up there, where the rock brushed against the sky.” “Turtle tried to climb the steep slope, but slipped back down. Again and again she tried but she just couldn’t get up the slope.” “Finally, tired, thirsty and needing to think, Turtle went and sat by the cool mountain stream flowing down out of the crags.” “Moon's roundness floated above, reflected in the water, making the stream's bubbles and waves gleam.” “As Turtle sipped the water she stared at Moon. Since Turtle and many others stayed awake only in the daytime, she'd never seen Moon for so long before. In fact, Turtle admitted to herself that she had often been afraid of Moon because Moon was not as bright as Sun and so many things could happen to Turtle in the dark. Now—“ Buck hesitated briefly as Grace inhaled, preparing to speak. Instead the youngster remained quiet, her interest in the story preventing further interruptions. “Now, watching Moon for the longest time, Turtle noticed how beautiful she was. Turtle realized she had no reason to fear Moon because Moon was watching over her just as Sun did in the day.” “Suddenly, from deep within the darkness came Moon’s voice, whispering softly, ‘You have shown your bravery well, Turtle. Now go to Vulture and tell him you want the sky bowl back.’” “And as Moon spoke, moonbeams fell to earth like night rain, and cascaded silently across Turtle’s back, forming a hard shell around her.” “She got her shell,” Grace said sleepily. “She got her shell.” Buck smiled again, then continued in a quiet voice. “Turtle wasn't certain how her new shell could help her get the Sky Bowl back, but she knew she had to try.” “She went to Vulture's crag, and called up to him. ‘Hey, Vulture! Give back the Sky Bowl!’” “’Or what?’ Vulture asked, laughing. ‘Go home before I rip you apart with my talons.’ He flew from the nook down toward Turtle, carrying the bowl in his beak and teasing her with it.“ “Turtle was afraid, but she knew what she had to do and stood firm.” “Vulture descended suddenly, trying to claw Turtle with his sharp talons. He hit the hard shell instead, barely making a scratch.“ “Angry, he pecked at Turtle, forgetting he held the bowl. His beak struck the shell hard and bent at an angle, making him drop the bowl.” “Turtle, still unhurt, grabbed the Sky Bowl and retreated back into her shell. Vulture scratched at the shell for a while, but the shell given to Turtle by Moon was so very hard. Even the worst of Vulture’s attacks did no damage. Finally, Vulture realized he would not win. He gave up then and flew off.” “Turtle made her way back to the forest, carefully protecting the Sky Bowl within her shell as she traveled. The very next morning she returned to the cliff top and scattered the seed for Sun. Seeing he was needed once again, Sun came back, but from then on he would shine only half the day, leaving the night to Moon and darkness so that we might never again forget him.” “And that was how Turtle earned her shell and Vulture got his crooked beak.” Buck looked down at the two children. Both were sound asleep. Turning down the lamp, he went to stand in front of the window. Gazing out at the moon he whispered his thanks for her beauty and her protection. Email Cathy HOME