Abalone Woman and Eagle
As told to Pliny Earl Goddard by Briceland Charlie July 15, 1908. at Briceland, California.
Transcribed and interpreted by Ben Schill, Phillipsville, CA. Jan 1, 2010 for the Eel River Nation of Sovereign Wailaki
He was lonely
He was looking for a woman
From the East, from Hayfork he came, they say
Eel River, he came down, they say
South Fork, he came down, they say
No woman. Woman he did not see, they say
Mattole, he came down, they say
No woman. Woman he did not see, they say
He went west. West only, to the coast, they say
He came down. Came down the coast, they say
Coast, he came down
Abalone, this woman, he saw, they say
She sat and combed her hair, they say
"I don’t want to marry.” she said
Eagle stood behind her, they say
Abalone didn’t look at him, they say
She did not listen to him
He went back
West facing, she stood, they say
He went back to duk kun dun on the ridge, they say
Eagle came to duk k’an, he came up
West, he looked back, behind himself, they say
Facing west, he went back, back to the coast, they say
Eagle came down the coast, they say
He came to where she was, facing west she sat, they say
Eagle whipped her with fire, they say
He went back. Back to the ridge he went, they say
Then he looked back, looked west, they say
Eagle saw her sitting there still
He thought: “I go home”, he started home
He came back, Mattole.
He came back di kok creek
He came back to South Fork
He came down to Eel River
Eel River he went back
He went back to Hayfork
Hayfork he came back
There he made flint
He made white kind
He made blue kind
He made red kind
He made black kind
Then he put the flints in a sack
He carried the sack to the Eel River
He camped there, the sack was heavy
He came to the South Fork, he camped there
He carried the sack to the Mattole, he camped there
The sack was heavy
He carried te sack to the coast
There Abalone Woman sat, facing west, she sat, they say
Eagle brought his sack of flints, they say
Abalone Woman said nothing, she sat facing west
Eagle got mad, he went back
He went back to Mattole
He gave out, the sack was heavy
He went up nel ash kuk ridge
He sat down, he was mad, he gave out
He was mad, he tore the sack
Flints he threw north to Dance House Ridge
He picked some up and threw them east to Big White Rock
He took some up and threw them west to White Striped Rock where bears go
That will be its name, he said
He took some up and threw them downhill east sen tel tchun butte will be the name, he said
He threw some away to nah del yah
That will be its name, he said
He took some up and threw it away down hill to sey nah tah.
That will be its name, he said
The flints were all gone, his burden light
No longer will I be a person, he said
Women don’t like me squirrel only, I will eat
I will be Eagle, he said.
He flew around This kind I will be.
Eagle they will be called, He said.
Based on the Goddard notes from the American Philosophical Society, Boas collection, Reel #47, pdf 22, pg. 1 to pg. 11.
A few comments on the story: (From Ben Schill)
The first two lines are mine, to set the mood and explain Eagle’s motive to the reader. To increase the drama, the storyteller does not identify Eagle until later in the narrative.
Remember that these stories are oral and repetition is a dramatic element as well as introducing changes in mood and form which are too subtle to be understood by the recorder (Goddard) or by me. The story teller links his tale to the physical places familiar to the listeners.
The frequent element “they say” is heard in many local Native languages. It gives the story the quality of lore rather than the in-vention of the teller.
When Abalone Woman is whipped by fire, she gets the red marks seen on the abalone shell. There is considerable work on the Abalone Woman group of stories which the interested reader can find. It is sometimes considered a warning against the abuse of women.
At the end, Eagle chooses not to be a “First Person” any more, but rather the eagle familiar to us all. This transformation is a fre-quent theme in local Creation stories. The First People were cre-ated before human beings (Indians) arrived and were transformed with the coming arrival. Loneliness and longing are frequent themes in these stories and the teller might sob with emotion. Eagle names the chert quarries on the ridges around Salmon Creek.
I’m sure that I have made many mistakes but I have stayed pretty close to the text and I feel priviliged to have found these stories from our own locality.
Ben
A few comments on the story from Ernie:
We are very privileged to be reading, for the first time, a true local Indian legend about how and where we got our local flint. The very simple story has a very complicated story line, that bears reading many times over with a very open mind. We are lucky to have someone like Ben that is interested enough in local history to actually learn the Local Indian languages. Many of the old recordings can now be interpreted. Many stories can be revealed due to Bens hard work. There is no definitive book on the local languages, so we should all be grateful to Ben.
Just like many languages, the Indian language has some words that have many different meanings. For instance, the English word “cool” can have many different meanings. If you don’t have a very good understanding of the language, you could miss-interpret “Cool” many ways. So, you can only imagine how hard it is to translate a dead language.
I have had the privilege of hearing some of the old Indian legends from My uncle Ben Branscomb, who was much like Ben Schill. Only just like the Indians, he passed the stories on by word of mouth, so my version of who Whiptalli was (Indian Spirit God) is probably much changed from who my uncle Ben thought he was. So goes legendary tales, but the basic truths always remain. From that I know that Whiptalli was an Indian Deer Spirit. He was mean, he hated water and noise. I get that from every tale that I have ever heard. So, if Whiptalli is ever after you, make a bunch of noise, or swim away from him. I get that from ALL of the stories about Whiptalli. Whiptalli appears in many different legends. Much as Ben Schill’s “Abalone Woman” and “Eagle”.
I am hoping that Ben will chime in here and tell us more about where these places are. I think that he probably has a pretty good idea. At least now I know how flint got here.
My uncle never laughed at the Indian legends. He knew that they all contained a basic truth, or an explanation of knowledge that could be, and should be passed on. If you put enough of the old legends together, you can get a knowledge of how to get through life easier, because they all contain a “lesson”.
Ernie
Monday, January 4, 2010
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36 comments:
“No longer will I be a person, he said, Women don’t like me squirrel only, I will eat”
It's amazing how much we all have in common. I remember making that exact same statement in High school, many times.
Okay, I found that my keyboard is bad. The "alt" key is sticky.
Ernie... First, I really don't speak Wailaki but I can work out these texts by the odd coincidence that Dave Kirby showed me a sort of Wailaki dictionary that was on line years ago and I had the good sense to print it out. The word list was done by a linguist named Bill Anderson who teaches out in the midwest. He did work on the Cahto language down at Laytonville Rancheria but left the project for some reason.
The reason no one else has worked on these (other than Anderson) is that it is all in Goddard's handwriting and his penmanship was appalling. I had to learn to read his handwriting.
There are about 10 stories in the Briceland Charlie collection and we will put them in some sort of book form when I am done. One is "Coyote Makes the Falls" that appeared on Kym's blog.
Charlie was called Briceland Charlie because he lived with the Briceland family for a while when he came back from the Crescent City Reservation where he had been sent when the Army "cleaned up" our area. Charlie was from Salmon Creek and returned there where he had a cabin on the north side of the valley. He worked in the tanoak industry and stayed in Briceland while working. While he told this story, he asked Sally Bell to bring him an abalone shell so he could show Goddard the red marks. Sally was living in Briceland at the time.
I can go on and on but I do want to mention one thing I forgot to explain. The flints were treasure, intended as a "bride price" for Abalone Woman. The great weight of his sack indicated his esteem for her and his hope that she would accept hin despite his whipping her.
"Okay, I found that my keyboard is bad. The "alt" key is sticky." -EB 1-4-10 4:30pm
I thought you wrote you swapped keyboards but the problem remained.
Hey, these are catchy lyrics! It's all becoming clear now: Briceland Charlie inspired today's gangsta rap with indecipherable references and word repetition. A forward-thinking sound engineer then upgraded the tom-toms to a powered subwoofer to punch through the low-end:
boomboom BOOM boomboom.
boomboom BOOM boomboom.
"Da bitch got her freak on, say it's the shit, yo!"
("Some say, some say")
“It’s all good, Weezy, all good in the ‘hood, yo.”
(“Some say, some say”)
Boomboom BOOM boomboom
Briceland Charlie should’ve hired an agent so his recollections would be forever memorialized as ghetto graffiti and cell phone ringtones.
First Anon
After I discovered that the "alt" key was sticky, I fixed it. The computer was still not working, so I re-booted it. It miraculously started working. God works in mysterious ways.
Second Anon
“There are none so blind as those that just won't see”. At first your flippant comment pissed-me-off because of your obvious irreverence for the great story that Briceland Charlie (and Ben) gave us, then it slowly occurred to me that you are right. Story telling and music are the same thing. Some of the old Indian tales are quite vulgar by modern white guy standards, so who are we to judge what they were talking about? The stories, and music, are designed to pass-on a message. Sometimes as a message from the elders to the young, so they can learn, and sometimes as a message from the young to the elders. A message that freely translated as “the young are tired of the old ways, and we will make our own way.” But a message is passed. You made your message Anon, put it to music if you will.
Ben, that is great work! A wonderful addition to the literature, which is scarce.
There is a group translating Goddard up north, but it is not known if it will be publicly available, making your contribution even more valuable. Thanks!
OMR... I have to go tlk to those guys... There is quite a bit of Hupa stuff in the notebooks and I imagine they would look at that first. The linguist Bill Andeson went through all this years ago but never published anything as far as I know.
Ernie... I'm working on a story about how arrowheads and arrows were made. More soon.
Good point, Anon 1:23. Not a lot of beauty in the modern telling, is there?
BTW, happy anniversary to you & your "abalone woman", Ernie, & happy new year to everyone!
Thank-you Robin,
She held out for a big bride price. She cost me a ton of flint, but she has been worth her price in Gold.
Sweet, Ernie. Many happy returns.
Ernie... This is really Charlie's story not mine. I just thrashed through the literal translation. We expect beauty in Native legends and are shocked to find them very much a dose of reality. Even Coyote's clowning often ends in tragedy. I could rewrite this and emphasize the beauty of Abalone as she looks out to the west brushing her hair. I could talk about the ocean and Eagle's handsome fierceness, but then it would be my story not Charlie's. Many people are quite put off by Indian narratives which are literally reproduced. Often, they find them disturbing as they encounter a culture which is fundamentally different from ours. It takes patience to see the beauty in this.
I have not mentioned that none of this would have happened without the work of Kitty Lynch who obtained the manuscript from the American Philosophical Society in Philadelphia. It is a society devoted to the preservation of manuscripts having to do with language. Kitty spent plenty of time on the phone getting a copy of the notebooks on CD. There are over 7,000 pages of which about 1,000 relate to the Southern Humboldt and Mendocino County areas. Really exciting for me and totally boring for many. I tell my family and old LA friends that I have become a bore in my old age.
I'm hoping that we will do a little book on Charlie's stories so that this community will have its own lore. Thanks for putting this on your blog, Ernie, and Happy Anniversary!
Ben
I'm glad that you interpreted it literally. Like you, I can read between the lines and see many angles to the story. I can see that Abalone Woman must have been very attractive to him. I can see that he knew that he did her wrong by beating her with fire and leaving the red marks. I can see that he had hopes that the great amount of valuable flint might change her mind and she might learn to love him. I can see that he felt that if he couldn't have her that no other woman would do for him, they say.
It is a great story in it's crudeness and simplicity. Any stories that you interpret are welcome on this blog. I'm sure that many people enjoy them. They seem to keep coming back.
Like I said earlier, I have a great bunch of local history stories and photos that I will be posting for a while. I just wanted to get this Briceland Charlie story up here for local Indian history fans to ponder. One of the reasons that I like Shakespeare is the fact that his writing leaves you with many things to ponder and figure out. This story is much the same. Once you finally figure out what is really happening, it leaves you with a certain amount of amazement.
I have always liked to coax stories out of old timers. All of the old timers are gone now, but I can't began to tell you the great stories that I've heard because of my patience in listening to the way the stories were told. I've never been a stickler for “good English” so people would tell me their great stories without fear of impatience with their manner of speech. In fact I like a little “character” to a good story.
This is wonderful. Thank you, Ben, for doing this, and thank you, Ernie, for putting it on your blog. I look forward to more.
(and happy anniversary).
Ernie, thanks and thank you Kathy.
I'm going to finish my remarks by telling the most current and popular Klamath River version of this story as contrast. It is told as a warning against abusing women.
Crane was a respected man. Wealthy and generous he was held in great esteem in his part of the River. Crane was searching for a woman and heard about a great beauty far down the coast. He sent his emissaries and arranged for her to become his wife.
She was Abalone Woman and she was truly beautiful and charming. Full of grace and with wonderful manners. When she arrived at the River everyone was impressed. They all loved her and wanted to be her friend. She was kind to all and a fine hostess. From time to time she would leave and visit her family then soon return. Soon they had two strong children.
Crane became unhappy. He was jealous of his wife's many friends and suspicious of her journeys.
He began to shout at her and demand she stay in the house and stop seeing her friends. He demanded that she end her family trips and never leave her home. Still; she was gracious and polite and charming and Crane began to hate her happiness.
One day, in a rage, he whipped her so hard her back turned red. That night she slipped away with her children and ran to the ocean where she stepped out into the surf and rushed south to her family home. Every step she took caused an abalone to appear and her tracks were shining shells.
In the morning, when Crane came out of the sweathouse and found Abalone Woman Gone he was desolate and ashamed. He launched his canoe and followed the River to the ocean and then the bright tracks down the coast.
When he arrived at her family town, she would ot speak to him but he relatives told him she would never return. Crane claimed the children and after negotiating, arranged that they would come to the River for half the year.
That was all the solace he was allowed and he returned home in tears.
I have adapted this from Callie Lara's version in the book, Abalone Tales by Les W. Field, which is far far better story than mine.
I have a book called "American Indian Myths and Legends" by Richard Erdoes and Alfonso Ortiz. It is 160 stories from 80 tribes. The stories are all similar in content to the stories told here. Many are tales of how things came to be, or how things were renewed. Some of the stories read like sexual fantasies, other talk of some kind of great skill or wisdom.
I am a person that has to know the reason why some thing is done, or how it "works". As near as I can determine these stories are intended to pass down tales to make a great point, or impart wisdom on the younger generation. Other stories are obviously simply for entertainment.
I was just going to peek for a second at your blog because I am so far behind on "real life." I promised myself that I wouldn't comment--just a little peek. one hour later, here I am deliciously full of Humboldt. The rock post was wonderful and Ben's translations of Briceland Charlie's story will probably permeate my vision of my vision of my watershed for the rest of my life.
Thank you.
poor Abaloni, she just couldnt come out of her shell no matter what he done to get her to, what a shame, and what a tragedy, all the fun she missed!!! sheeesh ... and to think, there but for the grace of Blah goes Suzy..
Suzy!!!
Welcome back. How are you? You had us worried. We've been having to figure things out all by ourselves, and as you know that can lead to trouble...
Hi Ernie,
Thanks for your concern, I'm okay, ive been looking within, deep within, to see whats inside me there. I met a wise indian man at the Mateel who taught me about the medicine wheel back in 2001. So i gnow that it is the West that i go to to go deep within where the Great Spirit is and i've gone there again, this time deeper then ever *** the vibration resounding til my heart beat so loud i thought i'd wake the neighbors. Yes, i've studied it and been guided by it except sometimes i go off the red road and stray into the wild places. But i am back on the good medicine now and it has taught me sooooo much since we've last talked. So of course when i saw your story about Abalogne Woman looking west I KNEW exactly what she was thinking. No matter what Ben and his ilk may say about it, Suzy gnows the real inner Truth of the deal, pretentious as that may sound, becuz i've been to the source of it, the same place that the story came from.
You are right, Ernie, it's a story with a moral, it tells us what NOT to do. It says, on the surface, that if you want a good husband and you want to be good and conform to the customs of the people etc then dont stay inside yourself turning your back on the life thats beckoning you, dont remain in your shell. But just like all good stories of forbidden fruit and such, those of us who are curious about things and shit wonder what happens if you go deeper wihtin, deep enough to uncover the seed of the fruit, the real meaning of the story. The esoteric (forgive me for using the 'e' word) meaning Ernie, and not just the moralistic meaning. It takes real patience, patience that only the medicine wheel can give you, to unravel what's tangled between the lines that are between the lines...
and when i untangle these threads and put them back together and water them with my tears and blow life into them from my pipe and honor them with my heartdrum then ... and then only does the meaning of it come, which is that it is that Eagle is within you; that is what the story tells. By looking within (looking West) Abalogni found Eagle whereas if she would've not looked within she'd have ended with Squirrel. By looking deeply within she transcended that mundane life of marriage with Squirrel, children, community life etc. --duality as Spy would say, cuz as we all know thats what happens when you marry Squirrel --yuo get hung up on Earthly endevors, always gathering acorns etc. and so you cant see the true husband who is Eagle (Great Spirit within you). Eagle and Abalogno are ONE. LOL!
I learnded all this all from just one meeting wiht this very VERY wise indian man, at least i think he was an indian, i donno gnow, maybe he was Greek or something but anyway this was in the parking lot by the Mateel. And it was totally TOTALLY an intense learning experience. We both shot straight into the starry sky and the message was communicated telepathically. And even though my friends found me later crawling on my hands and knees and babbling incoherently in front of the post office becuz i guess the teaching was sooooo intense that it knocked me for a loop, the original Truth that i found that night remains. I brought God to Earth that night. It's called incarnation.
If youre still with me, here's a little taste of the spiritual wisdom Suzy's talking about, the wisdom that has guided me and that i give my complete trust to, that i give my heart to, that i give Suzy's very life to.
Eagle and the Path of Incarnation
This is West in the Medicine Wheel, the door to the Path of Incarnation.
* The symbol of Creator God, Eagle opens the door of the Path of Incarnation. This is the deity incarnate, present in the physical world we know. This is the indwelling of deity in us.
and here's more
love and huggles,
Suzy Blue Flint
Suzy said: “I'm okay, I’ve been looking within, deep within, to see what’s inside me there”
Good, that is a good place to be. When you get deep inside yourself, to that place where you “live”, I’m sure that you know what I mean. You will find your true heart and mind. I’m a person that can feel hearts and minds, so I know that you will find a good one. The heart and mind is what I look to as being a persons “Soul”. I know that I stole that term from religion, but I don’t have a word for it, and again, I know that you know what I mean. You need to find your heart and mind to seek “wisdom”. Wisdom is what people seek when they consult elders.
I may not be someone that you would consider to be an “elder”, but I have experience that you might not have. I know that you have been in emotional turmoil lately. The one thing that I know, that you have heard before, and I know it to be true. We all learn from our experience, and "we become better and stronger people". The truest of all truths is “That time heals all wounds”. Tomorrow will be better. That is something that you may not be feeling right now, but I know in my heart and mind that one day you will be happy, and satisfied with your life, and look back to your “learning times” with amusement.
I want to do a post on “inherent spirituality” sometime, and talk about that “soul” that we all have, that animals supposedly don’t, and why do we seek answers, when it seems like all we would have to do is keep putting one foot in front of another to keep moving forward, like it seems that animals are all smart enough to do. Survival and joy is basic to critters. Anybody that has ever had a pet knows that. How do we find that place to move forward to happiness, that all animals seem to do instinctively.
Bourgeois society vs instinct and will
As shallow as this may sound in light of the ethereal conversations going on here, that Indian medicine wheel looks like the old TV & movie test patterns.
I'm really looking forward to the "inherent spirituality" post, Ernie. You say survival & joy are basic to critters & say that anybody who has pets knows that. I believe they are basic to us critters, too, but that we & our culture teach it right out of our kids! Anybody who's had babies & paid attention ought to know that.
Please don't ask me to expound. Suzy, I have missed you!
--test patterns
funny you mention that cuz after my friends scraped me offa the pavement in front of the Post office they took me to this chicks house in Blocksburg to chill and she was asleep and it was late at night and all the stations were offa the air and so i stayed up til dawn gazing at the test pattern... it was soooo totally psychodelic and medicinal.
Robin, the testpattern medicine wheel taught Suzy everything i gnow... but what is really weird is thaat the chick didnt have a tv. She didnt even have electricity. Strange but true, (not that she had no electricity but the indian pattern,\\ and but, so that's why i agree --superficial things are the deepest kind, at certain special times. \
LOL~
s
great to hear from you again suzy blue blue. blue flint woman or abalone woman would make a great medicine name for you. i rather like abalone woman.
dove and i do have dual medicine wheels. hers is the wheel of earth and light and mine is the spyrock wheel. we took a 9 month medicine wheel class a few years back from a couple of wisdom keepers and they ended the class by giving our wheels their blessing. dove's wheel is right outside the back door and the spyrock wheel is down the hill surrounded by a circle of trees.
the teachings i can't talk about but making your own medicine wheel out in nature is a very crewl way to pass the pipe or talking stick.
we just got back from a vacation. we drove to vegas and stayed at the sunset station in henderson as we were too pooped to do the strip anyway. then down over the hoover dam to i40 through miles and miles of snow to flagstaff and then down a steep twisty road to sedona. in sedona we went vortex searching. we went to bell rock, cathedral rock, boynton canyon, the airport rock vortex and any place that was easy to hike into.
always keeping a lookout for twisted juniper trees which is a sure sign of a vortex. we hiked into the west fork of oak creek canyon passed the old cabin where john wayne and many other stars made their home in the old movie days back in the 30's and 40's.
the highlight of the trip was a run to the grand canyon where i slipped on some ice and almost went over the edge but some japanese tourists grabbed me and helped me back up. dove wanted to visit a childhood friend whose husband had just died in phoenix so we met her at her parents house in surprise where they live on a golf course and are all retired. she got us a free room at the new wild horse casino across town which was an hour away. we watched her win $1000 in 3 hours on a dollar slot machine and then off for some rest for the ride home. we made it to victorville and the car started making noise. so we pulled into an arco and called triple a and used dove's 200 miles to tow us to goshen and my 100 miles to tow us to my house. during the first tow, someone called the driver and told him that a friend had just came out of a coma after 3 months, and the second tow truck driver had just won $20,000 playing baccarat so we felt lucky to make it home and have a pro drive us through the zero visibility fog and lucky that the car was fixed by our local mechanic in a couple of days.
sedona is pretty much a tourist place but we did meet some really nice people and see some fantastic art. jerome was the best place for meeting people you've known all your life.
we went to montezuma's castle, montezuma's well and several other places where you could see pictographs and petroglyphs, caves, and indian dwellings. seeing red rock country is highly recommended but probably easier to fly into phoenix and rent a car. next time.
the whole trip made me realize how insignificant i am in the vastness and beauty of mother earth. it was like spending time with my mother. back in the vortex again.
a very crewl way to pass the pipe or talking stick.
Spy, that doesnt sound like the most medicinal way to pass the stick to a loved one.
i think it was Bald Eagle who once said, "dont be crewl to a heart thats true".. or maybe it was the medicine woman, Bald Beaver..
Bald Beaver? With all the possible links we get...none?
.
thats rite mi bucko anonomous, you see, its a retro 50s60s thing like the old history pictures of Humbodlt that Ernie is so fond of and offers now and again... thats why Suzy, in the mode of the level of the vibe of the peeps... and considering the oldcomers who may not have a firm grip on the new ways of the blogtimespace continuum... from where i stand, or that is to say, the view from Suzy's organic convent, where the wafer offered with the wine during high blog-mass is spiked with a large dose of visual imaginati9on power --u get nun
O Ingrid of the Abalone clan! She first entered my imagination in the late 50's, early 60's...she wassmoking hot! I would help her with her habit anyday!
I didn't know then what you are suggesting now, however the 50-60's unshaven nun look is now so In, it even helps in court.
The actress Grace Kelly and Inger Stevens, the Swedish housekeeper on the Farmer's Daughter tv show were my first Abalone Women. They both died young and I am still not over it.
Good to hear from you Ms. 2flint!
At the risk of sullying Ben's sharing...I might add that it is good to know the origins of one of my most frequent under the breath mutterings..."ah baloney, women!".
It is sort of a personal chant.
Spyrock, what a fortunate blessed journey you had. Thanks for sharing the story.
That Sedona area is something. In '74 I drove a motorhome for a Theosophist down the hideously winding approach into Oak Creek Canyon from the north. I pulled over at the bottom to let a long caravan of vehicles pass, and rest my nerves from the drive. My next memory is 25 miles later of the terrain near Cottonwood and the approach to Jerome as you start the climb out of the valley towards that great little artiste town on the side of the mountain. I have no memory whatsoever of any of the surrounding magnificent redrock formations nor the town I drove through. Photos fail to register as anything I have ever seen before. No recall. No drugs were in my system. This was before I had ever heard of the vortex energy there.
you must have driven through a bald vortex, that's why you don't remember seeing anything. groovy used to have a story about being abducted shortly after leaving jerome. but what would the aliens do with a black irishman full of the blarney who never shuts up. so they returned him to earth.
Well the baldness didn't start for another 10 years but if that happened from driving through a bald vortex...who am I to doubt.
I have been told that another name for Abalone woman was Changing Woman. I was told that a Changing Woman, also called an Abalone Woman was buried in my back yard and forensic canines have alerted to burial scents. This was an area where green chert, black chert, and agate was being worked into all kinds of tools.
I was told that our Changing Woman sang to snakes and water in a spring. and that she had something to do with the seasons.
If you know more about Changing Woman or Abalone Woman please print. I think this may have been a religious thing.
Please email ASAP biomary2001@msn.com
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