Native American stories about tobacco.
Long ago, when the Potawatomi still lived on the ocean in the east and close to their grandfathers, the Delaware, a old man had a dream that something extraordinary would grow in his garden which was in a clearing he had made nearby. In his dream, he was warned never to let any women approach his farm, so he cut down trees so they fell down over the stumps and made a natural fence. The people of his village grew to suspect that something was going on, but they could see nothing. His uncles and nephews
In the days of the old men, far to the North there lived a nation with many villages. Their warriors lived a nation with many villages. Their warriors were as many as the Buffalo herds on the plains toward the Darkening Land. Their tepees were many on the shores of a beautiful lake and along wide rivers.
Then the Mysterious One, whose voice is in the clouds, told the chiefs of a great nation, also of many villages, which hunted through all the country from the Big Water in the
Long ago there was a wise and peace-loving elder who travelled from tribe to tribe
encouraging cooperation and friendship between all nations. He was a spokesman for
the cause of good will and his mission was to promote unity among all beings.
At a very great age the elder called a council meeting of elders and representatives
from the many clans, tribes, and nations which he had visited and taught. He told them
that his work was coming to an end and he must soon join
Here is a link to an audio version of
Gluscabe Steals Tobacco
It is an Anashnabe story
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