The Big Book of Canadian Hauntings. John Robert Colombo
our appearance there was a great shout heard, and all our relatives ran to meet us and to welcome us to their happy country. My mother made a feast for me, and prepared everything that was pleasant to eat and to look upon; here we saw all our forefathers; and game and corn in abundance; all were happy and contented.
“After staying a short time, the Great Spirit of the place told me that I must go back to the country I had left, as the time had not yet arrived for me to dwell there. I accordingly made ready to return; and as I was leaving, my mother reproached me by all manner of foolish names for wishing to leave so lovely and beautiful a place. I took my departure, and soon found myself in the body and in the world I had left.”
Creation myths and “just so” stories abound in the oral traditions of the Native peoples of Canada. “A Lake Superior Legend” appeared in The Nor’Wester (Winnipeg, Red River Settlement), August 24, 1869.
A Lake Superior Legend
In the summer of 1864, while in the Lake Superior country, I took a notion one day to have a swim. So, donning a light bathing dress, I dropped into the water. The plunge almost took my breath away. I had anticipated coldness, but I had not anticipated such icy coldness as this. The Lake Superior Indians never bathe; the reason they assign is, that the water of the lake is never warm.
A great many years ago the waters of the mighty lake were warm in the summer season. The Indians were the sole inhabitants of the land in those days. Manabozho was a great manitou (good spirit), and the Lake Superior tribes were his favourite children. But sometimes Manabozho used to put on his Seven League Boots, and stride away over the mountains on a visit to his mighty brother of the setting sun. He had gone on such a journey one melting day in July, and the Indians lay in their forests, dreaming dreams about the fairy lands of the East.
There was a bad spirit who hated the Indians fiercely. This bad spirit was a monstrous snake. He was very much afraid of the good manitou, Manabozho, and when Manabozho was at home the bad spirit stayed in his fiery lake, away back into the forest.
But now Manabozho was gone on a journey, so the bad spirit resolved to take advantage of his absence to destroy the tribes whom he hated. He had a large number of demons in his service, who were ready for any work he might set them. He dispatched an army of these demons to annihilate the Indians. For his part he set himself to watch for Manabozho, in case that good manitou should return unexpectedly.
The Indians saw the army of demons coming, and knowing that in the absence of their chief they were powerless to fight against them, they gathered their women and children together, and paddled away in their canoes across the lake. The demons could not swim, and had taken a great dislike to the water, and when they saw the Indians paddling away, they howled in their rage, and belched forth great clouds of flame and smoke.
But as soon as the Indians had safely reached an island, a thick covering of ice suddenly overspread the lake, and the demons yelling with joy rushed upon it. When they were all safely upon the ice bridge, it parted as suddenly as it had appeared, and became an ice-craft, and floated hither and thither. The demons were in great distress, being unable to get to either shore. And now the form of Manabozho rose to view. Manabozho understood the situation at once, and stretching out his mighty arm, larger than a pine tree, roared with a voice louder than thunder, “Sink, sink, and rise no more!”
And the raft sunk, and the demons perished, and the Indians came back and worshipped Manabozho. And this is why the waters of Lake Superior are so cold.
When I began to collect people’s accounts of supernatural and paranormal experiences, a fellow writer and editor noted, “John Robert receives the most fascinating mail in the country.” I immediately agreed with him. These days, as I continue to collect accounts of people’s experiences, including those of a psychical, spiritual, and mystical nature, I feel I receive “the most fascinating email in the country.”
Witness the present email from Sparrow (or White Sparrow) and some of the accompanying files. The inner narratives described herein took me by surprise. Indeed, from the first lines they surprised me, as I had (automatically) assumed that my correspondent was a male. Why? Who knows? These accounts are certain to raise a bevy of questions (and supply a handful of answers).
I cannot tell Sparrow much, but I can assure her that these accounts of her experiences are at least as astounding as any that I have published. She fears they are “relatively tame.” Well, in terms of seeing ghosts or being cursed by ghouls, they are, but as her experiences are those that enlarge the soul rather than assault the spirit, they are germane and genuine. At the same time, they evoke the wisdom and wonder of the spirit of the Native people.
Feathers Within
From: Sparrow
Sent: Friday, May 20, 2005 8:00 PM
To: [email protected] Subject: Purchased your book today!
Greetings John Robert Colombo!
Well, Sir, you may wish to grab yourself a coffee, tea, or something stronger to sip on! The reason being, my connection to you today is becoming as strange as some of the stories that I am in the process of currently reading!
Earlier this afternoon, I purchased a copy of More True Canadian Ghost Stories, John Robert Colombo. (I have only read a dozen or so pages and felt compelled to write you!)
I have many books on my shelf, but none of them include full collections of such stories!
Nothing I do is ever simple! Which makes this email to you now rather long and complex! For that, I apologize!
I was in a book store in Owen Sound, Ontario this afternoon. I was browsing for something new to sink my reading teeth into.
First, I immediately picked up a book entitled Emily Dickinson: Poems. A book or two away was yours! I don’t buy ghost story books. However, I am learning more and more to follow my instinctive hunches or callings, as I call them.
At the time, I could not make the connection between poetry and ghost stories! That is until I type in your web address! So, now I am even more convinced I was meant to contact you!
I’m not sure, Sir, where to begin!
My personal journey is quite a story all on its own. I am right in the middle of a very odd life situation. I am also currently trying to write about it behind the scenes, so to speak!
Let’s see!
I am a decade long member of the Canadian Country Music Association. A member of SOCAN [Society of Composers, Authors, and Music Publishers of Canada].
A published songwriter and published poet! I also have a sixty page and growing website which I use as a way to vent some of my creative energy. I am NOT an editor, by any stretch of the imagination! When I am not working at one of the previously mentioned, I am working full time at a private resort!
I turn fifty next month! Two months ago, I JUST completed a long “legal” process with regards to my name!
I am now LEGALLY called White Sparrow!
It is two words ... but only ONE name!
I do not recognize my forename as “White.” Nor do I recognize my surname as “Sparrow”! My name is only SPLIT when government, or standard forms insist on requiring me to do so! This is most unfortunate, but such is life! (For the most part, I simply SHORTEN my full name to SPARROW for everyday use! My signature is White Sparrow! Phew!)
To get a tiny glimpse into my story behind the story, make yourself welcome at the following. www.whitesparrowwigwam.com. My bio is but a flicker of the journey that I am currently on!
My future plans include doing