Creation myths from our indigenous people

The cover of Tales From The West Indies
The cover of Tales From The West Indies

The Caribs were the first people on earth. After them came the Warau from a land beyond the sky, rich in birds of rare beauty but without animals of any kind. No deer grazed on its grassy plains, no jaguar roamed through its scattered woods, no fish swam in its clear, shallow streams. Instead there were large flocks of birds of rare beauty. Some of these the Warau killed for food; and each man made for himself from the feathers of the birds a richly coloured headdress for wearing at great festivals.

One day while a young Warau hunter, Okonorote, was wandering through the fields he saw a bird more beautiful than any he had ever seen. In flight it was an exquisite jewel, the scarlet of its feathers more brilliant than those of the scarlet ibis, its green more vivid than the emerald feathers of the hummingbird. Enchanted by its rainbow loveliness, Okonorote swore not to return home until he had taken the bird. “How splendid a headdress these feathers will make,” he said to himself; “lovelier than any fashioned in ancient times. These feathers will give joy to many. I must have them.”

For five days Okonorote followed the bird, using all his skill to come within bowshot while it settled to a meal of berries on some lofty branch. He crept towards the bird through the long grass, keeping out of sight, crawling, inching his way forward, holding his breath lest even that faint sound of breathing should startle it. Almost within range, he lifted the bow, then moved forward so gently that neither stirring of grass nor rustle of leaves told of his presence. Suddenly, even while he was pointing the arrow, the bird flew away and the pursuit began anew.

On the afternoon of the fifth day the bird settled on the low branch of a tree. Okonorote moved forward very slowly, making no sound. He kept his eyes fixed on the bird. His heart beat fast for now he was nearer to it than he had ever been. He marvelled at the proud curve of the neck, the splendid crest of red and blue feathers, the rich hues of the rainbow plumage. He loosed his arrow. At that moment the bird flew up into the air. But it was too late. The arrow pierced the body. The bird fell back lifeless into the high grass.

Okonorote raced towards the place where the bird had fallen, shouting for joy. For five days he had watched, moving with care, making no sound, thinking only of the bird. Now he could throw caution to the winds. He raced at full speed towards the bird he had sought for so long. But it was not there. He thrust aside the dagger points of the thorn bush, the keen blades of the sword-grass and tore away the thick undergrowth covering the swollen roots of the trees, but he could not find the bird. Widening his circle of search, Okonorote came not to a gleaming bird, but to a deep hole. Throwing himself face downwards he looked over the edge of the hole hoping to see the bird’s body. To his astonishment he saw far below him a world of sunlit savannahs, green forests, and of animals grazing quietly – cattle, the fat, slow moving tapir, and the swift deer.

With the skill of a hunter, Okonorote noted that the hole lay at the foot of a gentle hill, under the shelter of two cedar trees that joined hands above it. Then he hurried back to tell of what he had seen, leaving signs to show the way: an arrow scratched on the bark of a mora-tree, a little heap of stones, a broken branch.

Many of the Warau people laughed at Okonorote’s tale. Some said that he had fallen asleep and mistaken a dream for reality. The elders pointed out that for many years they had wandered far and wide through their land, and had never found this deep hole. Also, surely, their fathers before them would have found it. After all, Okonorote was but a young man! Perhaps he had fallen into a hole hidden in the long grass and this had so shaken him that he was confused. Besides, no bird such as he described had been seen in their land. And even if Okonorote had seen such a bird and had put an arrow through it, how could it have vanished, leaving neither bones nor feathers?

A few of the young men, Okonorote’s friends, believed him. They set off to find the hole, threw themselves face down beside it, and exclaimed in wonder at the beauty of the world below them, its sparkling streams, its forests, and, most wonderful of all, at the animals grazing on the savannahs.

“But how shall we get to that world?” asked the young men.

The wise men of the Waraus came together and talked, until at last one thought of a plan.

“Let us,” he said, “make a long rope ladder down which we can climb to this other world.”

“That will take many months,” said one.

“And who will be the first to climb down?” asked another.

“I will climb first,” replied Okonorote; “for it may be that my bird lies on those savan-nahs that we can see. If I fail to return, only one man is lost. If I come back you will know that the way is safe.”

For many weeks, the Warau girls and women picked cotton in the forest and wove it into a rope ladder of great strength. This, the men lowered through the deep hole, trying out the length of the rope. At the first trial it was too short. The women picked more cotton and lengthened the rope ladder, but still it was too short. At the third trial it touched the trees in the forest far below.

As soon as the ladder had been made fast Okonorote climbed down, descending first through the dark hole whose sides were smooth and damp, and then beyond towards the savannahs, the ladder swaying but holding fast; so, after half a day, he came to the trees, and finally, to the floor of the forest. Having tied the end of the rope ladder firmly to a tree, he moved out onto the savannahs where the animals were grazing. He shot a young deer, kindled a fire, roasted the flesh and found it good. Packing up the rest of the meat, he climbed with it to his own land.

When the Waraus tasted the flesh of the deer they longed for more. When Okonorote told them of the savannahs, forests, gleaming rivers and high mountains, and above all, of the deer and cattle, the tapir and the armadillo, they cried out, “let us go to this world below and see its wonders”.

So it came about that all the Warau people descended to the earth, climbing down the rope ladder, passing first through the deep hole and coming at last to the forest. With Okonrote they searched for the bird, but there was no trace of it. Instead, they found guavas, pineapples, sapodillas, and bananas; and animals of many kinds.

Traditional – retold by Philip Sherlock

The Amerindian tale above appears in the Philip Sherlock collection, West Indian Folk Tales (1966), which was republished by Oxford University Press as Tales From The West Indies (2000). Sir Philip Sherlock was a Jamaican poet, historian, folklorist, and editor. He was also a former vice-chancellor of the University of the West Indies. The Creative Arts Centre on the Mona Campus of that institution was later named after him because of his services to poetry and the arts.

What is printed above is not the complete narrative, which is longer and includes the story of Rainstorm, referred to as a Warau woman in this tale, and an Arawak woman in others. Regardless of which first nation claimed her, Rainstorm was the mythical indigenous woman who became stuck between earth and sky. Whenever it rained, it was because Rain-storm was crying. “How The Waraus Came to Earth” may be categorised as a creation myth, an extremely important type of folk tale. Creation myths are found among the Amerindians and they explain how whole nations of people came into being, or even how mankind itself origi-nated. Other ethnic and geographic groups have creation myths – for example, the Bible story of Adam and Eve in the Gar-den of Eden is a creation myth. There are similar tales among the Yoruba, and there is a city in Nigeria, whose name has mythical origins – the city of Ile Ife (which means home of the gods) was the birthplace of human beings according to Yoruba mythology.

Other Amerindian creation myths have been documented by Rev William H Brett, English missionary serving in British Guiana, who, according to Arlene Monroe (“The Life of Rev William H Brett”, 2001) was known as “Apostle of the Indians” and served in the colony between 1840 and 1879. He translated the scriptures into Arawak (Lokono). Brett published Legends and Myths of the Aboriginal Indians of British Guiana (1880).

This tale of the Waraus is significant in its opening declaration that the Caribs were the first people. There are other tales which say the same thing, particularly tales that originated among the Caribs themselves and show the Caribs as victims of the warlike and villainous Arawaks. Many versions of West Indian history tell tales quite to the contrary about those two nations.