Episode 82 – Battle of the Seasons – Myths Your Teacher Hated

Episode 82 Show Notes

Source: Turtle Island Mythology

This week on MYTH, we’re finally going to begin the long journey out of the cruel heart of winter. You’ll discover that cactus leaves make mediocre meals, that corn can travel very fast, and that lightning can turn you into Gandalf the White. Then, in Gods and Monsters, a rabbit and a spider will square off. This is the Myths Your Teacher Hated podcast, where I tell the stories of cultures from around the world in all of their original, bloody, uncensored glory. Modern tellings of these stories have become dry and dusty, but I’ll be trying to breathe new life into them. This is Episode 82, “Battle of the Seasons”. As always, this episode is not safe for work.
With the winter solstice is behind us and the new year just beginning, the days have started to become a little longer and a little brighter. As such, it seemed a perfect time for some stories with a little more hope. This week’s story comes from the Acoma pueblo outside of Albuquerque, New Mexico, which has been continuously occupied since at least the 13th century, with Sky City being established sometime in the 11th century, making it one of the oldest continuously inhabited communities in the United States. It is also told by the people of nearby Laguna Pueblo. The story of summer and winter was recorded in the Journal of American Folklore from 1902.
Once, long ago, the Acoma and Laguna people lived on an island, but were driven from their homes by earthquakes, tidal waves, and a rain of flaming rocks (likely a volcanic eruption). They migrated northwest and, each time they settled in one place for a time, they built a new Kush-kut-ret, or White City. The fifth of these White Cities was built in New Mexico or southern Colorado, though they eventually were forced to leave this home behind as well due to cold, drought, and famine. The first governor of Acoma had a daughter named Co-chin-ne-na-ko. She was married to Shakok, who just so happened to be the living Spirit of Winter.
This seemed a fine thing, but when Shakok came to live with the Acoma, the weather took a turn for the colder. Snow fell more often, and the ice choked the waters for longer. Corn refused to grow, forcing the people to live off of e-mash-chu, or cactus leaves, and other wild plants that could survive in the harsher conditions. They got by, but no one was happy about the way things were going.
On one particular day, Co-chin-ne-na-ko went out to gather cactus leaves, burning off the spines so that she could safely pluck them and bring them home. It was hard work, and so the young woman took a moment for herself to munch on one of the leaves she had just finished singeing when she heard movement from nearby. Looking up, she saw a young man she didn’t recognize approaching her. He was dressed in a yellow shirt woven from corn silk, a woven belt, a tall pointed hat, green leggings made of the soft moss that grows by the springs and ponds, and elegant moccasins richly embroidered with flowers and butterflies. To really drive the symbolic garb home, he was also carrying an ear of green corn in one hand. Yeah, this dude is pretty much exactly who you think he is.
He approached Co-chin-ne-na-ko with a large grin on his face, hailing her as he neared. He seemed friendly and polite, so she smiled back and greeted him in return. “What’s that you’re eating? It doesn’t exactly look appetizing, no offense.” She grimaced. “Yeah, it doesn’t taste much better than it looks. Alas, the corn won’t grow for us any longer, so my people have to make do off cactus leaves if we don’t want to starve to death. Shitty food is better than no food.”
The young man shrugged. “That’s true, but it’s still no fun. Here, have this. You need it more than I do and besides, I can go gather up plenty more and bring you back an armful to take home with you.” Before she could decide whether to accept this strange but very generous offer, the young man had raced off towards the south. In a surprisingly short time, he returned with a huge bundle of green corn in his arms. This was especially impressive since Co-chin-ne-na-ko’s people had absolutely looked for better food in that direction, and he hadn’t been gone nearly long enough to go somewhere they hadn’t checked. Being a no-nonsense kind of gal, she straight-up asked this kind stranger where exactly he had gotten this rich bounty of corn.
He smiled broadly. “From my home of course! It lies far to the south of here, a beautiful place where the corn grows tall and the flowers bloom all year round.” Co-chin-ne-na-ko sighed with a longing she hadn’t allowed herself to feel before now. The lands around her had been bleak and barren for as long as she could remember, and she was sick to death of ice and snow. “That sounds…incredible. I wish I could see such a wonderful place. Would…would you be willing to take me with you to see your home?”
The young man’s smile vanished and he considered the young woman in silence for a long moment. “I’m not sure that’s a good idea. Your husband Shakok, the Spirit of Winter, would be pretty pissed off if I took you away.” “Fuck him. He’s cold and distant, and I don’t love him. Besides, ever since he came to our people, the corn won’t grow, the flowers won’t bloom, and the people are starving. None of us are happy about having to live off the leaves of the damned prickly-pear cactus.”
The young man shook his head gently. “I dunno, still seems pretty sketch. Tell you what – take the rest of this corn home with you, but make sure you don’t throw any of the husks away outside of your house. Meet me here tomorrow, and I’ll bring you another batch.” Waving, the handsome young man headed south, leaving Co-chin-ne-na-ko behind with her arms full of corn. She watched him go, shrugged at the strange interaction, and then began the trek back to her village. She hadn’t gotten very far before she ran into her sisters headed the other way. She had lost track of the time during her odd visit and they had become worried that something had happened to her out in the vast wilderness.
Having followed her tracks, they were understandably shocked to see her not only perfectly fine but carrying a shit-ton of corn instead of the usual cactus leaves. She explained to her incredulous sisters how she had met the weird young man and how he had brought her all of this free corn. It sounded utterly unbelievable except for the giant pile of fucking corn right in front of them. Casting long looks towards the south (which didn’t look any more lush and verdant than anywhere else they had been lately), they helped their sister bear her tasty burden home.
Her mother and father were relieved and delighted to see all of their daughters returning safely and with an unexpected bounty to boot. They likewise asked her where she had found such riches, hoping that maybe the corn was starting to grow again somewhere reachable. She again recounted her story of meeting the strange young man and how he had asked her to meet him the next day for another batch of corn. Her father cocked his head at her description and asked for a more detailed description of the southerner. He nodded sagely as Co-chin-ne-na-ko painted a word picture of the man who had captivated her attention. “Miochin. It must be Miochin.” Her mother nodded in agreement. “You’re right. It can be no other than Miochin. Daughter, you should see if you can bring him back to the village tomorrow!”
Like everyone, Co-chin-ne-na-ko had heard tales of Miochin, the Spirit of Summer. If that had really been him, it explained a lot of the weird happenings of the afternoon. She resolved to follow her mother’s advice and so, the next day, she set out once more for the spot where she had first met him. As he had promised, the young man (who was indeed Miochin) was waiting there for her with another load of green corn. In fact, he had more bundled up this time and offered to help the beautiful young woman carry it back to her village. That suited Co-chin-ne-na-ko just fine and so the two walked together with their bundles of food.
This time, there was enough corn between the pair to feed all the people of Acoma. Grateful, the governor invited Miochin to his home to thank him personally for his generosity. That evening, Shakok – Spirit of Winter and dour husband of Co-chin-ne-na-ko – returned home from the north. He spent his days in the icy, frigid wilderness playing with the north wind and dancing amidst the ice and sleet and snow. As he often did, he rolled into town on the leading edge of a blinding storm of howling winds, driving snow, and crashing hail. As soon as he entered however, he knew that something was different. Miochin was here.
In his bones, Shakok could feel the hateful warmth of Miochin’s presence and he followed it to where his nemesis was waiting inside. He approached the governor’s house and called out “Hey Miochin! Are you here, asshole?” In response, Miochin stepped out of the house to meet the Spirit of Winter in the street. “I thought I smelled your stench. Hiya, Miochin. Haven’t seen your ass in a while. Now, I’m going to kill you.” “Nice to see you too, Shakok. Prepare to die, dick.” Shakok took a couple of menacing steps towards his counterpart but stopped in his frozen tracks as Miochin pushed back with his own power. Shakok’s deadly ice began to melt and the howling winter winds became a gentle summer breeze. As Miochin continued his inexorable advance, the blue ice that Shakok wore around his body in a thick coat of armor melted away to reveal his simple clothes beneath. He was left exposed there in his ska-ra-ska-ru-ka, a simple garment made from dried and bleached rushes.
Realizing that he was overmatched, Shakok employed a time-honored tradition – he called for a do-over. “This isn’t really the right time or place for our ultimate showdown of ultimate destiny. Tell you what – I’ll meet you here in four days to really slug it out. That way, we both have time to prepare properly and we can fight until one of us is dead. Whoever survives can have Co-chin-ne-na-ko. Deal?” Without actually waiting for a response, Shakok stormed out of town in a rage. Well, as much storm as he could manage after his summer smackdown. Which, I mean, still wasn’t something to sneeze at. The bitter wind howled and shook the walls of the village, but the people were warm and snug inside and paid his impotent tantrum no mind. Miochin’s presence was more than enough to keep the winter chill out.
The next day, Miochin headed back to his home far in the south to get ready for the upcoming brawl. The first order of business was to send an eagle to his friend Yat-chum-me Moot who lived far to the west and ask for assistance in turning this into a tag team match. Next, he summoned his inner Aquaman and sent out a call to all of the creatures that lived in the summer lands (though he opted for birds, bugs, and beasts rather than fishies since this would be a land-based battle). Pick-le-ke, the bat, answered the call and agreed to be Miochin’s advanced guard and his living shield. With his tough, leathery skin (I’m thinking this particular bat might have been more in the vein of Camazotz from Episode 58 than your typical little sky doggo), he would be able to shield the Spirit of Summer from the worst of the sleet and hail that Shakok could hurl at him. On the third day, Yat-chum-me Moot heeded his buddy’s eagle-message and got to work in the south. Taking up the thin, flat stones that were his namesake, he kindled a roaring fire and placed the rocks within. Soon, thick clouds of black smoke rolled across the heavens, darkening the sky.
Meanwhile, Shakok had headed to his own home base far to the north. He too sent out a call to all of the animals of the winter kingdom that could walk, slither, or crawl to come to his aid in the battle ahead. Shro-ak-ah, the magpie, answered his summons and agreed to be his advanced guard and living shield.
When the sun rose on the fourth day, all could see the two seasonal spirits approaching the battlefield. To the north, Shakok’s coming was heralded by ugly storm clouds that boiled out of the heart of winter, coating the land with a thick rime of frost. Snow and hail fell thick and heavy in his footsteps. In the south, Yat-chum-me Moot piled more and more wood onto his fire, sending great clouds of smoke and steam into the heavens. Miochin headed north in the shadow of these roiling clouds. Both were coming fast for Acoma, the agreed upon site of their showdown. Both were led by their advanced guards and were accompanied by an army of critters from their respective domains. They reached the town at the same time, but Miochin struck the first blow. Lightning flashed out of the southern clouds to strike the army of the north. Its heat singed the fur and feathers of all of the creatures accompanying Shakok, leaving them forever after as white as the snows. This is why so many of the creatures that live in the far north have white fur, some entirely and some only accented with white.
The two spirits came within sight of each other, and Shakok struck back. Drawing on the bitter cold of his winter home, he flung blasts of ice and snow at Miochin in a blinding blizzard. They raced towards the Spirit of Summer with all the hungry rage of the darkest winter night, but the boiling clouds raised up by Yat-chum-me Moot’s fires heated the air and melted the attack. Miochin walked calmly into the damp remnants of Shakok’s best effort. The Spirit of Winter fell back, dazed by his failure and the unstoppable approach of summer. He tried to rally, but his strength had been spent in that one great blow and he was forced to admit defeat. Reluctantly, he called for a truce.
Miochin, with all the benevolence of the life-giving summer, agreed to end the fighting without killing his opponent. Had their situations been reversed, I doubt Shakok would have been so forgiving but then, that’s why he was the Spirit of Winter. The winds fell quiet and the rain and the snow stopped falling from the north and the south. They came together at the walls of Acoma to cement their terms. “I am defeated. I hate to admit it, but you have bested me, Miochin. Co-chin-ne-na-ko is yours, as agreed.” Having grown quite tired of her frigid husband, Co-chin-ne-na-ko was more than happy to agree to these terms. The three of them worked out an arrangement, deciding that it would be best if Miochin ruled for one half of the year and then Shakok ruled for the other half. That way, neither would need to interfere with the other and both could coexist more or less peacefully without starving out all of the people of the land. Ever since that day, one half of the year has been warm and the other half has been cold.
And so, now that we can all start to look forward to the return of Miochin and the longer, more pleasant days ahead (at least, those of us in the northern hemisphere), it’s time for Gods and Monsters. This is a segment where I get into a little more detail about the personalities and history of one of the gods or monsters from this week’s pantheon that was not discussed in the main story. This week’s hero is Rabbit Boy aka Blood Clot Man.
The version of the story I’m using was originally told by Jenny Leading Cloud in 1967 and recorded and transcribed by Richard Erdoes. Back in the days before Columbus showed up and fucked it all up (and yes, that’s actually how this tale starts), people were much closer to the animals than they are now. In fact, many could speak the languages of the animals and often chatted with the birds and gossiped with the butterflies (who are shameless gossips, as everyone knows). Many animals could transform themselves into people, and the people in turn could turn into animals. It was all a lot more fluid and free-flowing and awesome. The earth was not quite finished and so there was still a lot of room at the margins for things to shift.
In those distant days, there lived a little rabbit who played very much against type: he was a very nice, playful, and good-natured little bunny who was never mean to anyone. On one particular day, this little bunny rabbit was out for a stroll when he came across a clot of blood. Yes, even for this mystical time, that was pretty fucking weird. No one knows where this clot of blood came from, because you don’t typically find a random blob of blood just hanging out. And yes, I mean blob because it was emphatically NOT a pool of blood. This was more like a bladder full of red liquid, squishy but more or less solid. The little rabbit didn’t know what to make of this strange thing, so he did what you might expect a playful creature to do – he kicked it like a rubber ball. To be fair, it was very ball-like.
The White River Sioux (from whom this story comes) believe in Takuskanskan or the mysterious power of motion (which other sources describe as a trickster wind-spirit and both interpretations make sense). Takuskanskan tends to animate things and make them come alive in a very real sense. This spirit or power, whichever you prefer, began to work through the little rabbit with the happy-go-lucky creature being none the wiser. As the bunny kicked around this little blob of blood, it began to take a more definite shape until it began to look like a disembodied belly. As he kicked it around more, the little clot grew tiny little arms with tiny little hands. A little more kicking and suddenly, it had eyes and a beating heart. Thus, the blood clot had become a living little boy. The rabbit sat back to consider this brand-new creature and decided to name him We-Ota-Wishasha, which means Much-Blood-Boy, but everyone called him Rabbit Boy.
The rabbit took Rabbit Boy home to meet his bunny wife. Together, they decided to adopt the child (which is a big part of why he was known as Rabbit Boy) and raise him as their only child. They dressed him in a finely sewn buckskin shirt, which they painted a sacred red and decorated with porcupine quills. He grew up very loved and very happy until he was almost a grown man. At that time, the now elderly rabbit took his son aside to tell him the truth – he was not, in fact, a rabbit. You know that scene from Kung Fu Panda where Po finds out he’s adopted? Yeah, it’s basically that. The rabbit told his adopted son that he was actually human and that, as much as the two bunnies hated to see Rabbit Boy go, it was time for him to leave and find his own people.
The young man was a very dutiful son, and so he left the warren without argument (though with quite a bit of sadness) and began walking. He didn’t exactly know where he was going, so he just kind of wandered at random until he came to a human village. He drew all eyes as he entered the village, with everyone staring at this strange boy in the beautiful buckskin clothes. None of them had ever seen its like before and they all asked him where he had come from. “I am from another village,” he told them. This was obviously a lie because, in all the world, there was no other village. The world was still young and so the still small population of humanity all lived in this one place.
Still, Rabbit Boy was obviously a human man, and a very kind one at that, so the village quickly accepted him as one of their own. It wasn’t long before a beautiful girl fell in love with the handsome man. He was pretty and dressed well, sure, but more importantly he had a good heart and a kind disposition. Her family saw this as a great match since this would cement his strange power (though the story doesn’t exactly say what this power is) from wherever he had come from as part of the village. For his part, Rabbit Boy had a vision of himself wrestling the sun, racing the sun, and playing the handgame (a guessing game where opposing teams try to guess which hand a marked bone is hidden in). In his vision, Rabbit Boy bested the sun each time they competed.
Unfortunately for this could-be couple, the wicked spider trickster Iktome also coveted the pretty young woman for himself. He went out into the village and began to talk all kinds of shit about Rabbit Boy. “Look at that asshole, strutting around in his fancy outfit to show how much richer he is than the rest of us poor sods. It’s pretty shitty to lord it over the rest of us like that. What, does he think he’s better than us? I can’t believe you’d let an outsider like him marry the most beautiful woman in the village.” His poison words began to work on several of the village’s young men, and they muttered darkly amongst themselves. Inwardly, Iktome smiled wickedly but outwardly he feigned concern. “You know, it’s probably none of my business, but if you all decided to be heroes and stand up to this arrogant prick for the good of the village, I could lend you a magic hoop. Just toss it over Rabbit Boy, and he’ll be completely helpless.”
The young men (who were jealous of Rabbit Boy and his strange power, good looks, and fine clothes), took Iktome up on his offer. Together, they ambushed the young man and fought him but that was just a distraction. While Rabbit Boy was busy fending off his attackers, the evil spider snuck up behind him and tossed his magic hoop over him. None of them had taken the young man’s strange powers into account. As it so happened, he was immune to the effects of this magic hoop but he had caught on to the plot against him and pretended to be helpless. At worst, this would probably be a funny story one day. At best, he could make sure no one tried something like this again.
Thinking that they now had the outsider at their mercy, they bound him to a tree with rawhide thongs. As they worked, Iktome kept cackling behind them and encouraging them to tie the knots tighter. Once he was bound, the cruel spider encouraged them to butcher their prisoner with their long knives. Rabbit Boy heard their words and pretended to despair for his life. He wept and shook in a truly Oscar-worthy performance. “Please my friends, if this is truly how I die, I beg you to grant me one boon – before you kill me, let me sing my death song. Without waiting for their assent, he began to sing: ‘Friends, friends, I have fought the sun. He tried to burn me up but he could not do it. Even battling the sun, I held my own.”
He finished his funeral dirge about his own victories (even if they had only been in a vision) and the young men slit his throat as he hung bound from the tree. With their long, cruel knives, they cut him to bloody pieces, carving him up into small chunks that they put into a large soup pot. Thanks to those mysterious powers we heard so much about, Rabbit Boy was able to survive this blood-thirsty treatment. A terrible storm roared into being out of a clear blue sky, covering the sun and dropping the world into sudden, complete darkness.
When the storm passed and the clouds were gone, the bloody hunks of raw human flesh were gone from the soup pot. Not even a drop of blood remained in the pot to speak of Rabbit Boy’s grisly demise. A few more observant young men had seen the butchered meat stitching itself back together and ascending into the heavens on a beam of pure sunlight. A wise old medicine man who had come out during the storm to see just what the hell was going on looked across the assembled murderers. “Rabbit Boy is truly more powerful than we thought. He has gone up to see the sun. Soon, he will return to us stronger than ever before and bearing the power of the sun itself. I think this settles things: when he comes back, he and his woman should be married. They both want it, and it’s clearly in the village’s best interest.”
Iktome, who was as jealous as he was cruel, scoffed at the old man. “Really? That asshole? Please, I’m much stronger than that rabbit twerp. I’ll prove it! Here, tie me up and then butcher me the way you did him. I’ll ascend to the heavens and return before he can and then I’ll marry her instead!” The young men shrugged and did as Iktome asked. For his part, the spider thought that the power was in the song that Rabbit Boy had sung (which had been the point). Not only was he wrong about the song being magic, he also didn’t exactly remember the words (which he hadn’t really been paying much attention to at the time since he’d been busy getting his revenge for imagined slights. “Friends, friends, I have fought the moon. She tried to fight, but I won. Even battling the moon, I came out on top.” He finished his song and the young men butchered Iktome the spider. Unfortunately for his evil ass, there was in fact no magic in the song and so his bloody flesh was now just so much meat. Unlike Rabbit Boy (who did in fact best the sun as his vision had foretold and then returned to marry his beloved), Iktome was dead, dead, dead. As evil tricksters often do, the cruel spider had outsmarted himself.
That’s it for this episode of Myths Your Teacher Hated. Keep up with new episodes on our Facebook page, on iTunes, on Stitcher, on TuneIn, on Vurbl, and on Spotify, or you can follow us on Twitter as @HardcoreMyth and on Instagram as Myths Your Teacher Hated Pod. You can also find news and episodes on our website at myths your teacher hated dot com. If you have any questions, any gods or monsters you’d want to learn about, or any ideas for future stories that you’d like to hear, feel free to drop me a line. I’m trying to pull as much material from as many different cultures as possible, but there are all sorts of stories I’ve never heard, so suggestions are appreciated. The theme music is by Tiny Cheese Puff.
Next time, we’re leaving the ice and snow behind for somewhere a little warmer. You’ll see why you should never trust a tortoise, why you should beware of secret societies, and why you should never go to a suspiciously free feast. Then, in Gods and Monsters, you’ll learn how tortoise fucked over elephant for eating too much. That’s all for now. Thanks for listening.