#2 - Rabbit Tale Power Hour 1

In this episode, I give a window into the world of Coushatta storytelling by telling four different Rabbit Tales, three of which are given in both Koasati & English, and the last only in English. I explain characteristics of Rabbit Tales and provide commentary about each story. I hope to do many more episodes like this in the future.

Special thanks to my aunt Darlene Dunnehoo and my parents Bertney and Linda Langley for their help with updating the Koasati for the first three stories - all of them are roughly 100 years old, so it was a collaborative process to modernize the language.

Thank you for listening. Please subscribe wherever you listen to podcasts for updates on future episodes. Share this with a friend who might be interested, too. Atoklo ma - until next time!

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Transcript

Rabbit Tale Power Hour 1: Selected stories adapted from Jackson Langley Rabbit Tales Book, Kimball’s Koasati Traditional Narratives, and the 3 Bertney Langley stories in Treasure Lore pamphlet. First 3 stories with modern Koasati orthography and revised English translation, last story only in English. 

Hachikaano? How are y’all doing? Hi everyone. It’s been longer than I anticipated. I’ve gotta start off by saying that, wow, I was blown away by the response to the first episode. I am my own biggest critic and listening back I just wanted to re-record the narration, re-mix the audio, and edit some more, but overall, I think people enjoyed the introduction. The comments that resonated with me had to do with making my narration more expressive, speaking more Koasati, and actually telling some of my tribe’s rabbit tales. Today’s episode will address all three of those comments. 

Welcome to the first “Rabbit Tale Power Hour,” in which I will be telling a few selected rabbit tales, some with the original Koasati as well as an English translation, others only in English because of their length. After I finish telling each story, I will provide some commentary and context about it, to better place it canonically in the Koasati tradition. The natural disclaimer is that my commentary is my own viewpoint. Though I base my annotations on firsthand knowledge of Koasati culture and extensive study of the Coushatta rabbit tale tradition, as with any art there exist as many interpretations as there are listeners. I encourage everyone to consider these stories and develop your own interpretations of them. We may not get up to an hour, but I thought the name was catchy, and the format lends itself to multiple iterations. This way, whenever I feel like telling stories, I can just make another episode in this style. Additionally, this format can be modified when I bring other storytellers on the podcast -- so they have a blank canvas to tell stories in their own traditions. 

I will begin by telling the first story I ever told publicly in Koasati, “Blue Jay Frightens Bear.” When I was about 10 years old, circa 2008 about a year after the Heritage Project began, myself, elders, and other tribal youth attended the Oklahoma Native American Youth Language Fair at OU. I had no proficiency in Koasati, but I memorized every word in this short story and practiced my pronunciation with elders such as Ronnie Abbey for hours leading up to the competition. He and the other elders who worked with me all expressed the same sentiment verbatim: “Faichinna!” -- “Don’t you quit!” When I later gained fluency, elders repeated this phrase to me. Even in the infancy of our language preservation efforts, it was clear how important it was to them to see young people making an effort with the language. 

For all the stories I will be telling, I want to be clear that these are ancient oral traditions told and re-told between generations for hundreds of years. I did not invent these stories. In fact, most of the stories in this first Rabbit Tale Power Hour were told by my great-grandfather, tribal chief Jackson Langley to linguists and social scientists such as Mary Haas and John Swanton in the early 20th century, circa 1930. He would have heard these stories in his youth from his uncles, grandfathers, and any relative who had the patience to sit and tell them to him – they would have heard them from older family members in their youth, and so on, and so forth. Crucially, these stories were an important tool in passing down the Koasati language, in addition to cultural knowledge. Invented stories can cover subject matter that may not come up in regular conversation or day-to-day life, so it is especially useful for teaching uncommon parts of the language. My father recalls many nights listening to these stories told by his uncles around the wood stove when he was a child. These are some of his most special memories; in an era when most Coushatta homes didn’t have electricity or television sets, the characters and stories were especially vivid. He says the adults would always encourage the children to ask questions and even practice telling stories themselves so they could learn the process. Sometimes when the adults weren’t around, the children would re-tell the stories to one another, sharing different tales told by various tribal families. 

Every generation of Coushatta storytellers iterates on the tales they heard from their elders. Sometimes people forget details, invent them, modify events, add asides, change characters, etc. These evolutions are standard in oral storytelling traditions. Likewise, in my oral retellings of these stories in informal settings, such as when I was recently interviewed by the New York Times and when I attended the Eleventh Moon storytelling event in Natchez, Mississippi in January, I added small twists to existing stories I know. If you want to know which parts were my flourish, I won’t tell you – a good storyteller, like a good magician, never reveals his secrets. 

Keep that in mind when I give credits for these stories. For example, the credits for this version of “Bluejay Frightens Bear” are: As told by Jackson Langley, 1934-36, recorded by Mary Haas, modernized transcription by the Koasati Heritage Project 2011, and updated language by Eli Langley 2022, with assistance from Darlene Dunnehoo, Bertney Langley, and Linda Langley. The latter 2 descriptors can be assumed for all stories, so I won’t repeat them, whereas the original storytellers and academic recorder may change. For the shorter stories, I will tell them in Koasati first, then give an English translation. Maybe in the future I can dedicate certain episodes to doing longer stories with paragraph-by-paragraph translations of the Koasati. With all that said, enough stalling, let’s get into it. 

Tiiskilak Nita Mathahliichitolimpahchok (Bluejay Frightens Bear) 

Tiiskiilak onkaak Nita, “Chimathahtlichilo,” kahhan. 

Nitak iyyinkon. 

“Himaakos,” kaahatolimpak Tiiskilak. 

Mootohon, Nitak aiyaatahon. 

Tiiskilak illonkat-ohthook iifaa-infofohkayaamin mahchon. 

Ifa ifaimpahkayaamin impahkan. 

Nitak hatchchaaliik onaamit waliikatoolimpak. 

Maamin, Tiiskilak thohlit chakkok ‘hiihiihaahaa’ kahatoolimpak. 

Maamosin, Tiiskila hiichafokkok Nitak noksiipat noksiipatoolimpak. 

Tiiskilak afaaliichit afaaliichitoolimpak.  

Akkaamoos. 

“Akkaamoos” means ‘that’s all’ and is traditionally used when a story is finished. My father tells me that some traditional storytellers would say “Akkamoos. Tofyom” and then spit to signal the end of a story. Thankfully, I will be sparing everyone the sound of me spitting into a microphone. 

What follows is not a line by line translation, but rather my adapated translation to better fit the spirit of the Koasati story with idiomatic English. Unlike English, Koasati uses a lot of tonal affect to convey meaning. For example, the word “Mafiina” could be either a question if it ended with a rising tone “Mafiina?” or an exclamation “Mafiina!” with a flat or lower tone on that final ‘a’. With the rising tone, it means, “Really?” as in clarifying a detail of a story. With the flat or falling tone, it means, “For real!” Same word, but the meaning is communicated via tone. With these tonal features, stories told in Koasati can convey more meaning, feeling, and descriptive quality without needing so many words. That is why my English translation is more verbose – it takes more English words to capture the feeling and experience of the Koasati telling. Here is that translation now:  

Bluejay Frightens Bear 

One day, Bluejay and Bear were walking in a forest. Bluejay, ever confident, said to the towering Bear, “I bet I can scare you.” Bear was in disbelief. How could this pipsqueak Bluejay possibly frighten him? Bear took no notice of Bluejay’s taunt. “You could never scare me,” said Bear. Bluejay could tell Bear did not believe him. He was being underestimated! “Wait and see,” replied Bluejay.  

Bear ignored the annoying bird and continued walking along in the forest. Some time passed and Bluejay was nowhere to be seen. He had hidden himself in the trees along Bear’s path. Just when the forest seemed most peaceful and serene, Bluejay whistled and made a high-pitched sound. He whistled, mimicking the sound of a hunter calling for his dog.  

Bear was petrified. How had he failed to smell the hunter and his dog? He had not heard gunshots nor seen tracks. He was caught totally by surprise. Bear stood all the way up on his hind legs, paused for a moment, then ran as fast he could to escape the hunter and his hound. After Bear had run as far as he could as fast as he could, he stopped to catch his breath.  

In the distance, he heard a squeaking sound. Bluejay had caught up to Bear and was laughing his heart out.  Bear realized he had been played for a fool. The rascally little Bluejay had scared him out of his mind with a trick.  

Bear began to get angry, so angry, in fact, that he wanted to chase after Bluejay, but Bear was too tired from his run. He pitifully attempted to catch Bluejay, but the little bird stayed just out of his reach, laughing harder and harder with every failed attempt. That day, Bear learned that size isn’t everything. 

The end. 

I love this short, simple story – it contains several tropes which are common throughout Koasati rabbit tales that I want to touch on.  

First, the story centers on two animal characters. According to elders such as my Chofi Choob – Great Uncle – Bel Abbey, a renowned 20th century Coushatta storyteller, people’s names were frequently substituted with animals in these stories to convey the moral message without offending people. In this case, Tiiskila – Bluejay and Nita – Bear. These characters have at times been translated as “A Bear” or “The Bear” because Koasati does not have articles like ‘A’ or ‘The’ as English does. Depending on the surrounding sentence, those subjects can be translated with either the definite article ‘The’ or the indefinite article ‘A.’ When we translated these stories in the Heritage Department, we chose to leave off articles entirely and translate it as simply “Bear.” There is some precedent for this – in Western folktales, there are animal characters who are used as stand-ins for all of their species. For example, the Tortoise and the Hare, Br’er Rabbit, or the Big Bad Wolf of The Three Little Pigs fame. It’s just that Koasati drops the descriptors of the animal from its name, so our rabbit character from which the term ‘Rabbit Tales’ is derived is simply called “Chokfi” -- Rabbit. And so, that is why we call the story “Bluejay and Bear” instead of “The Bluejay and the Bear.” I will tell more stories that are named in this format. 

Second, the central conflict in this story (Bluejay tricking and thus frightening Bear) involves a subversion of expectations for the listener. We, like Bear, imagine the sheer size of Bear to give him outright dominance over Bluejay. On the surface level, we fail to consider that Bluejay might employ a non-physical attribute like his wit to overcome his rival. In the end, Bluejay outsmarts Bear and comes out looking the much better of the two. Koasati stories love an underdog. The sociologists in the audience might attribute that to the tribe itself historically being in a non-dominant position among its neighbors. Although prominent in the Creek Confederacy, we never had the largest population, nor the strongest army. We used our skills in negotiation and diplomacy to survive the challenges we faced. Likewise, the characters in many rabbit tales use their reasoning skills as well as the help of friends to overcome their foes. My personal favorite rabbit tale, “How the Bat Got Its Wings” includes a classic example of this trope – the protagonist Bat receives help from the birds, and in turn he overcomes the land animals that previously tormented him. I will tell that story later in this episode. This feature, of  a “trickster”character or underdog using their wit or allies to beat challenges, is a trope found in Indigenous societies around the world. Generally, these Indigenous populations are marginalized, so their stories reflect their admiration for characters who beat long odds. 

Lastly, in this story, humans are referenced but are not actually present as characters. I know of several stories that employ this device – in the aforementioned Bat story, the birds find Bat an old leather Indian drum that they make his wings out of, but we never meet any Indians through the course of the story. Sometimes, an animal and a human interact, such as in the next story I am going to tell, “Why the Water Runs Crooked,” where the main characters are Rabbit and Person. In any case, even when humans are not characters, the world the animals inhabit is one in which they are aware of humans and must be conscious of our influence. 

Next up, as promised, “Why the Water Runs Crooked,” as told by Jackson Langley, 1934-36, recorded by Mary Haas. 

Saamin Okik Sayotlihchoto (Why the Water Runs Crooked) 

Chokfi, aaton stoklot ayaachito. 

Aatik okon stiisin. 

Chokfik achaakit ayaa onkaak, “Anokstiisilaas oki,” kaahatoolimpak. 

Maamiyyon aatik onkaak, “Inko,” kaahatoolimpak. 

Chokfik onkaak, “Anok schimiisilaa,” kaahatoolimpak. 

Maamin, Chokfik chilitkat chilitkatoolimpaas. 

Maamiyyon, aatik stihikkotoolimpak. 

Mootohon Chokfik oki stimihsok stiwwaliikatoolimpak. 

Mahmook oki oohya tihiikat swaliikat ohya tintipiichitoolimpak. 

Akkamiskan, hahchik lamatikkohchommimpak. 

Chokfik alwaahlitonommimpak. 

Chokfi-inkotha. 

Akkaamoos. 

A brief note: one of the characters in this story is a person. There is no grammatical gender in Koasati so it is unclear if the person is a man or woman. My take is that it is not important what the gender of the person is. The person, like animal characters with their species, can be seen as a stand-in for humanity. And now, my English translation: 

Why the Rivers Run Crooked 

One day, Rabbit and Person were walking together through the woods. Person was carrying water in his hands – he had nothing to carry it in. Rabbit followed behind him, and said, “Let me carry that heavy water for you.” 

Person looked incredulously at Rabbit. “You are small, with tiny soft hands. You will drop most of the water, and the rest will soak into your fur. No. It is better that I carry the water.” 

Rabbit was undeterred. He continued following Person, saying over and over, “Let me carry that heavy water for you.” Rabbit continued pestering Person without ceasing. Rabbit had tremendous energy and was determined to take the water off Person's hands and carry it himself. 

Still, Person did not relent. He knew he must carry the water to his destination. Nothing the relentless rabbit could say would convince him to give up this water. 

As the pair traveled in the forest, Rabbit knew he would not convince Person to give up his water. He used the cover of the trees to hide and sneak up on Person. Quick as a flash, Rabbit hopped up and snatched the water from Person’s hands. Rabbit took the water and ran away with it. 

As Rabbit ran, the water splashed out of his hands. In Rabbit’s path where the water fell, rivers formed. Because Rabbit was running frantically to escape Person, the water fell out of his hands in a crooked pattern. So, that is why the rivers don’t run straight, but rather are aligned in a zigzag shape.  

If Rabbit had shown patience, Person would have carried the water and completed his task to create straight rivers where he walked. Instead, Rabbit did what he did best and messed everything up. Bad Rabbit. 

The end. 

When people ask me why the stories are called ‘rabbit tales,’ this is the story I usually tell. 

‘Why the Waters Run Crooked’ is a quintessential rabbit tale. Here, Rabbit is playing his standard role as the trickster in Koasati stories. The trickster character is present in countless storytelling traditions around the world, and comes in various forms. In North America, especially in our traditional territory of the Southeastern Woodlands, rabbit is a popular choice for the trickster character. Speaking to other Muskogean storytellers, I gather that the rabbit as a mischevious trickster motif is present in all of our tribes. I can’t speak authoritatively for other storytelling traditions, but I plan to have other Southeastern tribal storytellers on this podcast at some point to discuss their traditions and compare and contrast them with Coushatta stories. 

Your guess is as good as mine for why rabbit is singled out above other woodland creatures for this central role in our stories. I would think the raccoon, fox, wolf, or various other animals could play that role just as easily as rabbit. However, the raccoon is dirty, always digging through refuse, while the fox and wolf are both predators that could be misconstrued as obvious bad guys. Rabbit is fast and good at making escapes, and though he causes some mischief, is basically a harmless, cute animal. Rabbit is notoriously lascivious, which is funny. While rabbit may not seem overtly dastardly, he is known to perform human-like activities, such as stealing a farmer’s crops and avoiding detection. Usually, but not always, rabbit’s misbehavior results in some negative unforeseen consequences. Luckily in the case of this story, the consequences are mostly harmless, and listeners are offered a humorous rationale for why rivers flow how they do. Many Coushatta stories have this explanatory bent to them, using humor and storytelling devices to explain worldly phenomena. 

This next story showcases how rabbit’s scheming occasionally results in a net positive. “Rabbit Steals Fire on the Other Side of the Water” gives us Rabbit, the anti-hero, who has found himself on the other side of the ‘big water’ -- which I think is the Atlantic Ocean. It seems they have fire, unlike the people in Rabbit’s homeland of North America. This story, like most Rabbit Tales, has several versions told at different times to different audiences. The earliest known recording of this story was in 1910, told by Jackson Langley to John Swanton. Swanton later revised his linguistic notations and published them in a collection of stories in 1930. That version was revised again by Geoffrey Kimball for his work, Koasati Traditional Narratives, published in 2010 by the University of Nebraska Press. That version is longer than the one I will be telling, with some raunchy aspects. Kimball posits that because Jackson Langley was telling the story to a solely male, non-Indian audience, he may have been more comfortable relaying some of the risque details of the story. 

The version I will be telling was dictated by my Awo Choob – great grandfather Jackson Langley – to Mary Haas between 1934-36. This version is shorter, abbreviated in some ways, and seems more appropriate for a larger audience. Of course, my ancestor has been dead for decades now, and could not tell me which version he would have liked me to tell. So, I will make an editorial choice based on my understanding of his decision-making. According to Kimball, in the mixed company of men and women, especially to a non-Indian audience, Koasati storytellers preceding me typically went for the toned-down retelling. Make no mistake, the following version accurately captures the message of the story in its entirety. Here it is, as originally told by Jackson Langley between 1934-36 and recorded by Mary Haas: 

Chokfik Koibolito Tikba Okichobatatha (Rabbit Steals Fire on the Other Side of the Big Water) 

Chokfik okichobataththa aatan tikbak naahoto. 

Chokfik hihchok koibohlaahiik bannat bannatoolimpak. 

Mantik ohaahichchaachito. 

Maamin yataaththa tikbak ikso chohmin, Chokfik stontaahiik bannaakommito. 

Chokfik choiyinihon isbakpaana samohlit anohlok aatato. 

Ohikkhiihchoon tikba stihsook swaliikaat hothohlin ifootohook thohlin swaliikaan swaliikaan swaliikaan... 

Hochakkhikkon okifa stoothook tikba stilipaabataplin hithihlin stowchofotohoolimpak. 

Stowthopotlit stihlan tikba hohiichatoolimpak Chokfi. 

Mahmook, Chokfi ohiyyiihot ohiyyiihotoolimpak. 

Akkaamoos. 

In the other version of this story, Rabbit begins in North America, and makes his way across the Atlantic Ocean, takes the fire, and then swims back to bring us fire. In this version, Rabbit has somehow found his way across the ocean and he starts the story over there. These are the kinds of small changes that I mentioned before – even one storyteller telling a single story can change it multiple times depending on his audience and the time in which he presents it. These are living stories, after all. Here is my translation: 

Rabbit Steals Fire and Brings it Across the Ocean 

One day, Rabbit found himself on the other side of the Atlantic Ocean. He was further East than he had ever been! He longed to go back home and return to his friends and family. He even missed the Indians who tormented him, driving him away from their crops and sometimes hunting him. But Rabbit knew he could not return home without a gift to make up for his absence. 

Just then, Rabbit spotted People surrounding a bright, glowing pile. Rabbit’s curiosity overtook him. He inched closer to the light source. As he did, he felt his fur grow hot. ‘What is this?’ thought Rabbit. ‘We don’t have this back home across the ocean.’ He heard People call it “fire,” which he had never seen, but had heard stories of. Suddenly the perfect plan came into his head. ‘I will steal this fire and bring it back with me across the ocean,’ he decided. But the fire was surrounded by People and their animals, and they had all begun watching this strange rabbit who came near to their fire. 

Just then, Rabbit shot off to a nearby tree where he collected pine fat, which he rubbed all over the top of his head. Before anyone saw him, he darted back, picked up the fire and ran toward the water with it. All the People chased him, even their dogs, but he ran, and ran, and ran as fast as he could. No one could catch this slippery rabbit. 

When he got to the water, he lifted the fire above his head, and hit himself with it in the spot where he had rubbed pine tar. His head caught fire and lit up, and then Rabbit jumped into the sea. He swam across the ocean, keeping his head just above water so the fire would not go out. Eventually, he returned to his home, where the other animals and all the People surrounded him. 

He found some wood and slapped his head on it. The wood caught fire, and everyone was amazed. They never had fire before, but now they could cook with it, keep light going at night, and gather around it for warmth – perhaps telling stories of the courageous rabbit who had brought them this fire in the first place. All the People were thankful for Rabbit’s gift. At that time, everyone loved Rabbit. Good Rabbit. 

That’s all. 

Finally, Rabbit has his moment in the sun, though he maintains his previous cunning characteristics. He is somehow across the Atlantic Ocean, and unbeknownst to most, he is a champion swimmer. He schemes to steal the newly-discovered fire and bring it back across the ocean. This could be seen as a surprisingly charitable act, as the humans who typically hunt and torment Rabbit stand to benefit most from the introduction of fire. He puts himself at great risk to steal the fire from a large group of people who have what I would assume are hunting dogs, a classic enemy of Rabbit. He outsmarts the unwitting people, devising an ingenious scheme to use pine tar to keep his head lit as he crosses back over the ocean.  

The Greeks have Prometheus, and the Coushattas have Rabbit as our Great Firebringer. When people ask me about my tribe’s mythology, I often think of this story. When people hear the word mythology, they imagine a pantheon of Gods like the Greeks and Romans had. The Koasati mythology instead centers on creatures my people were very familiar with – the woodland animals of the American Southeast. From what I can tell, my tribe was always monotheistic. ‘The birth of monotheism’ in ancient Israel probably happened circa 4,000  BC, and Native Americans arrived on this continent much earlier than that according to some scholars, so I would argue these ideas developed on separate continents at roughly the same time. We did not invent family trees of gods, but rather crafted our legends about how real living things interact with the world The Creator had made for us. I like to think of the characters in Rabbit Tales as actors in a play – the director and set designer being Abba Chokkooli – God, the Creator. 

And now, for the last story of this inaugural Rabbit Tale Power Hour. I want to end with a bang, so here is my personal favorite Coushatta story, “How the Bat Got Its Wings.” This is the first Rabbit Tale I remember hearing when I was about five years old, told and re-told with various embellishments by my father since I was a young boy. Various storytellers have told versions of this story, including Bel Abbey, Jackson Langley, and my taata (dad) Bertney Langley. The version I am going to tell will be my own, adapted primarily from my father’s telling in 1993 recorded by Pat Mire and Maida Owens for Swapping Stories, another version told by my father in English in 1995 published by Louisiana State University at Eunice in their pamphlet “Les Raconteurs: Treasure Lore and More,” and my own recollections of the various forms I have heard the story take over the years. Because of the length of this tale, I will omit the Koasati translation for now. Perhaps in a future episode, I will dedicate runtime to telling long stories like this one with paragraph-by-paragraph translations, but this episode is getting pretty long as it is. 

So here is the story. This version is told by me, Eli Langley for the first time in 2022, also recorded by me.  

How the Bat Got Its Wings 

Long ago, when this land was inhabited only by animals and Indians, things were much different than they are today. The landscape was untouched – there were beautiful, lush forests as far as the eye could see, streams with clear, pure water, and all the creatures lived together in harmony. The big animals paid special attention not to step on the small animals, and the smaller animals tried their best not to annoy the larger animals – they all treated each other with the utmost respect. 

Suddenly, one day, things began to change. No-one is sure exactly when or why, but the animals in nature started to feel overcrowded, and began conflicts with one another. For the first time ever the forest began to hear new sounds, as the animals argued with each other over where the best watering holes were, where the best sleeping spots could be found, and who had the right to eat which plants. Now, the large animals would intentionally step on the tails of the small animals, and the small animals would pester the large animals. Where there had once been harmony and balance, the sounds of bickering and argument echoed through the forests of the land. 

This newfound acrimony between the animals eventually resulted in a sin so great The Creator had to intervene. As the arguments intensified, a bear found a tree that had a bee’s nest and a mockingbird’s nest. He could easily have collected his honey without incident, but instead he targeted the mockingbird and her baby birds. He reached his great claw up and knocked the nest out of the tree, and once it had fallen to the ground, the bear climbed down and ate all the mockingbirds in the nest. For the first time, blood had been spilled in the serene forest. 

The sound of blood hitting the ground resonated up through the earth and into the heavens until it reached the ears of The Creator. He grew enraged and said, “I wonder what has happened in my creation. I must go down to see what has gone wrong and put a stop to this foolishness.” 

And so, while all the animals continued to argue with loud cries, suddenly The Creator appeared before them in the forest. The creatures were so surprised that they immediately fell silent. 

“What has happened here?” asked the Creator. “Did you not all enjoy the beautiful green forests and clear running streams I made for you? Was there not plenty of food for all of you, and everything you could ever desire here? And did I not say that you were all to live in harmony with one another, and treat each other with great respect, in the manner you would hope to be treated by your fellow animals?” 

The animals were ashamed, so they all looked down and could only nod in silence. 

“I gave you all this, and if it was not enough I would have given you more. So, tell me, what has gone wrong, to make you all angry with one another? You treat each other more like enemies than friends.” 

All the creatures stayed silent and sat in their shame. Finally, Bear, renowned for his courage, stepped forward and spoke up. “It was I who spilled blood in this sacred forest. I killed a nest of mockingbirds. But I have to say it was not I who started the conflict. That is the fault of the birds. They fly overhead and sing their songs too loudly, they take the best trees full of honey and claim them for themselves, they complain if any land animal stays underneath their trees for too long, they will not allow us to climb the trees nor sharpen our claws on them. They claim what is not theirs and torment us daily.” 

After Bear spoke up, all the other creatures joined in resulting in a chaotic chorus of complaints. The large creatures blamed the small ones and vice versa, the land animals blamed the birds and vice versa, and so on, and so forth. Finally, The Creator raised His hands. 

“SILENCE!” He bellowed, and once again silence filled the forest. “It is clear to me that you have all forgotten what it means to be truly grateful for what you have, and that you will no longer live peaceably with one another unless I do something. I want you all to learn how to live and work together again, though it won’t be the same as it was before. From this day forward, there will be one day a year that there will be no fighting whatsoever. That will be the day of the great Ball Game.” 

All the creatures looked at each other in amazement. What was The Creator thinking? What kind of a ball game could all the creatures play together? 

“These are the rules,” the Creator began, “you will all have three weeks to practice together before Ball Game day. There must be no fighting or arguing during these practice times, or you will lose points before the game begins. Any creature who wishes to play must be allowed to play, but every creature must belong to a team. You will be divided into two teams, Animals That Have No Wings and Birds. I will give you equipment to use on game day, and the object is to carry this ball with these sticks over the other team’s goal line. Each team will have a set of two poles that represent their goal, and the teams’ poles will be separated by one-hundred yards. You must cross your opponent’s goal line as many times as you can before time expires. The team who has scored the most points when time runs out will be the winner of the game.” 

He continued, “To keep things fair, the wingless animals cannot run over the birds or run out of bounds with the ball. Likewise, the birds cannot fly over the heads of the land animals. Everyone is to remain within the boundaries of the field and to play with a fair spirit, ensuring a level playing field for the game. Your three weeks of practice time starts now. Learn to work together and overlook each other’s differences. The winners of the game will have full rights to any disputed territory for the remainder of the year. The games will continue until animals no longer live in the forest.” And with that, The Creator was gone, disappearing back into the Heavens. 

Slowly the animals began to look around, wondering what to do next. Finally, Owl suggested that they begin to form themselves into the teams The Creator mentioned and go into separate practice areas to begin their preparation. And so, the animals did just that. All the birds gathered among the tall trees in the forest, while the land animals gathered in the grassy fields on the banks of the nearby river. There, the teams began to take stock of their players and discuss possible strategies. 

Barely noticed among the larger Animals Without Wings was the tiny bat. At that time, the bat had no wings at all, and stood barely taller than a field mouse. He had poor eyesight, but his hearing was very keen, and he had definitely heard The Creator say that all creatures without wings were to play together on one team. “Since I have no wings,” thought Bat, “I must be on the team with other land animals.” So, he made his way down to the grassy field to discuss strategy with his larger teammates. 

At first, the land animals were so busy talking that they did not even notice the tiny bat. When all of the positions had been assigned, and his name had not been called, Bat thought there must be some mistake. He trotted over to Bear, a team captain for the land animals, and asked him what position he should play. At first, Bear didn’t realize where the tiny squeaky voice was coming from, but finally he looked down and saw the tiny bat at his feet. 

“What did you say?” asked Bear. 

Taking a deep breath, Bat tilted his head up and shouted, “What about me? What position should I play?” 

Bear began to laugh, and then laughed so hard he could not stop. “You!” roared Bear. “What do you think you could do to help our team? You have no skills that set you apart from other animals. Who would want a creature like you on their team?” 

The tiny bat struggled to explain that the Creator had said that all animals must be on a team and have the chance to play, but Bear was laughing too hard to listen. As Bat began to walk away, Bear called after him, “Perhaps you can join our team if you beat me in a wrestling match!” The sounds of Bear’s laughter echoed through the trees as Bat made his way to other wingless animals to plead his case.  

Next, Bat went to Deer. Summoning his courage, he asked, “Can I be on your team for the game?” Deer seemed to think over the proposition. Just when Bat was beginning to get hopeful, Deer replied, “You can be on our team if you beat me in a race!” and ran away, his cackles heard through the forest. 

“I know,” thought Bat, “I will go to Panther. He won’t be afraid to let me join his team.” But Panther laughed at him, too. He asked, “Will you be able to face the other team fearlessly, and run the ball right at them, as I can? Perhaps if you could do that, I might agree to let you join our team. Now leave me in peace!” 

Finally, discouraged by his failure, Bat gave up and hung his head. He could still hear the laughter of the wingless animals in the distance as he walked away. 

“I’ll go over and see the birds,” thought Bat. “I know I can’t play with them, but some of them are as small as I am, and maybe they can think of some way to help me play in the game.” And so, he went among the tall trees of the forest to find the birds. 

The birds were already hard at work planning their game strategy, but they were not too busy to notice the entrance of poor, little Bat. 

“What is wrong?” Hawk called out, “Why aren’t you getting ready for the game with your team? Were you sent here to spy on us?” 

With tears welling in his eyes, Bat recounted the story of how he had been laughed at, scorned, and mocked by the land animals. The birds did not like the way that Bat had been treated and wanted to make it right. 

“We would let you play with us in a second!” said Sparrow. “But the rules from the Creator are clear – in order to play on the Bird team, you must have wings, and since you don’t have any, I am not sure how you can play with us.” 

Bat nodded, feeling worse than ever. “I appreciate that you would help me if you could,” he said, “but I can see that I am no use to anyone. I wish that I had never been born.” 

As Bat turned to leave the forest, wise Owl called out, “Wait! It’s true that you do not have wings, but the Creator did say that all creatures were to play in the game. Perhaps if we all put our heads together, we can come up with a way that you can play with us on our team. It is worth the effort to make sure that we consider every possibility.” So, Bat and all the birds gathered to brainstorm together.  

By the time the sun was setting and the evening air grew cold over the forest, the birds were no closer to arriving at a solution than when they began. Bat was preparing to thank them for their efforts and insist that they return to planning for the game, when Owl spoke up again. Using his sharp vision, he spotted an old drum discarded by Indians lying under a tree in the distance. 

“Perhaps,” said Owl pensively, “we can use that drum to fashion wings for Bat. Then he will have every right to play with us on our team!” The other birds were excited by this idea. Cardinal offered to outline the pattern, Woodpecker offered to cut the leather of the drum, and Heron offered to fasten the newly fashioned wings onto Bat. But the results were not as they all expected. 

Because none of the birds had ever created wings before, the pattern they drew up was quite large. The wings stood much taller than Bat himself! And because none of them had any experience with this exercise, the result was uneven, with jagged lines, and looked nothing like the wings of other birds. When they finally attached the wings onto Bat, he immediately fell over. When the other birds lifted Bat off the ground, the weight of the wings was too great for him, so he fell a second time. 

Lying face down in the dirt at the feet of the birds, Bat was prepared to give up once again and insist that they go on with their preparations without him. Again, the birds refused to admit defeat and picked him up once more. 

“They may be too big for him on the ground,” said Goose, “but they could still work to fly with. That’s how it is for me.” 

The rest of the birds agreed, and so, at their urging and with their coaching and instructions, Bat got a running start, flapped his new wings, and tried to fly. However, try as he might, he could simply not lift himself into the air for more than a few seconds at a time, and he could not seem to catch on to the art of flying. All he managed to do was skin his nose repeatedly. The falls Bat suffered when he first put on his wings and when he tried to fly from the ground left him with a pushed-in nose, almost resembling a pig snout. That is why Bats noses look how they do, to this day. 

Finally, Bat said what he had been thinking all day, “It’s absolutely no use trying to help me! Because it will never work! I thank you all for your help, and for caring so much about me, but I can’t let you lose any more valuable practice time trying to help me. I’ll never amount to anything!” 

Still, the hardheaded birds insisted refused to give up on their newfound friend. 

“Since we have gone this far, let’s try one more thing,” said Robin. “I know when I was old enough to learn how to fly, my mother pushed me right out of the nest!” 

The other birds nodded in agreement, remembering how they had also been pushed out of their nests to learn how to fly. 

“It’s worth a shot,” agreed Owl, “If something goes wrong, at least we will be down here to catch him.” 

Eagle offered to take Bat up to the top of the highest tree, and before Bat could protest, he found himself being taken high into the air. He had never been up this high before. On the ground below him the birds looked like tiny ants. Just as his dim eyesight was adjusting to the view, he felt a push. Eagle nudged him off the branch they were standing on. Out of fear, Bat grasped wildly for something to hold onto, grabbing another branch, and hanging upside down due to the weight of his wings. He felt safe this way, and so that is why bats hang upside down from branches, instead of perching on top of them, to this day. But just as he began to feel comfortable, he lost his hold and felt himself tumbling toward the ground below. 

Beneath him the birds all shouted their encouragement. “Spread your wings and flap them!” shouted one from the crowd. “Find an air current!” shouted another. “Use your wings!” shouted a third. 

But Bat just kept tumbling, end over end. Just as he was about to fall into his hole of self-pity, he suddenly stuck his wings straight out, and they caught the air. Because they were so large, and because he did not know how to use them, he zig-zagged in every direction, going first to the right, then to the left, then back up, then down again. That is why Bats still fly in this erratic pattern, to this day. And because Bat first learned to fly long after the Sun had gone down, he grew accustomed to flying at night. That is why Bats sleep during the day, and only fly at night, to this day. Before he knew it, he had landed safely on the ground, on his feet.  

The birds all crowded around Bat to congratulate him, and Owl said, “Now he must do it again, and again and again, until he masters the use of his wings.” 

So up on Eagle’s back he went again, and the whole process was repeated. Gradually, Bat began to understand how to use his wings. He still could not fly straight, like the other birds, but he could zip from side-to-side and up-and-down in the blink of an eye, all with great control. He continued to practice with the birds until the day of the great Ball Game. 

“Stay on the sidelines,” the Bird team captains agreed, “and you will be our secret weapon.” 

Finally, the day of the game had arrived. The Sun rose high over the trees bright and early. All the creatures of the animal kingdom were on hand to play and to cheer on their family and friends. Initially, things did not go well for the Bird team. Throughout the first half of the game, the land animals were clearly winning. They had gone up by a score of three-to-zero. Seeing that they were at a disadvantage over the larger, stronger, and faster land animals, the birds decided to do everything they could to tire them out. By the time there was only a few minutes remaining in the second half, the animals thought that their victory over the birds was assured, so in addition to having tired themselves out, they became cocky and began to make small mistakes. It was at this point that Owl went over to the sidelines to Bat and said, “Now is the time. Go into the game in my place.” 

As soon as he entered the field, the birds passed Bat the ball, as they had previously agreed. Bat used every maneuver he had practiced. He zigged to the right, zagged to the left, and he went right through the legs of Bear to score a goal! On the very next play, Bat received the ball once more, and this time he zoomed around in a loop, zigzagged past Deer and scored again! Suddenly the birds found themselves down only by one goal. 

The land animals became visibly panicked, and they called a timeout to strategize. Over in their corner, they asked each other, “Who is that little creature? That is not a bird we’ve ever seen before, is it?” 

Bear shook his head thoughtfully, and said, “There is something familiar about that little creature, but I can’t put my finger on it.” Try as they might, there was nothing they could think to do to stop Bat’s onslaught. 

When the timeout ended, Bat got the ball and zipped side-to-side past the panther, who had scorned him, and scored once more. Now the score was tied, and the animals could not think of any way to stop this mysterious little creature. They had never seen anything, not animal nor bird, that could move at that speed with such unusual, unpredictable patterns.  

Sure enough, in the final seconds of the great Ball game, Bat received the ball again, and this time he looped around the entire animal team several times, zigging and zagging between them, playing with such confidence that he seemed to be showboating. The animals could barely keep track of Bat with their eyes, let alone prevent what would happen next. Bat scored the final goal just as time expired. All the animals, winged and otherwise, were speechless at what had just transpired. Suddenly, all the birds let out a deafening cheer. They had won the great game with the help of their new recruit, the intrepid Bat! 

The excitement in the air was incredible. All the birds whooped and hollered and jumped around in celebration. They crowded around Bat and lifted him high above their heads for a victory dance. On the other side, the animals shook their heads with shame at their defeat. Victory, which had seemed so certain, was snatched away from them at the last moment. 

Finally, Bear said, “I think we should go over and congratulate the birds. And I sure would like to find out who their star player is!” 

So, Bear, Deer, Panther and some of the other large animals went over to shake the hands of the victorious birds. 

Bear asked Eagle, “Now, who is that star player you brought in at the end to win the game? We would like to congratulate him, as well.” 

Eagle and the other birds parted, leaving a gap between them, through which Bat strutted confidently, his head held high with pride. 

“You?!” cried Bear. “If only we had thought to let you play with our team. Well, you have certainly shown us how wrong we were about you. You have earned our respect today.” 

And so, that is the story of how the bat got its wings. It goes to show that all creatures, great and small, have a part to play in the plan of The Creator. We must never overlook anyone, no matter how insignificant they seem or how different they may appear, because everyone has a unique talent. Next time you hear a loud commotion in the forest, there may be another ball game going on. And who knows – in that game, there may be another star player in the making. 

That’s all. 

I think this story speaks well enough for itself. I hope you can see why it’s my favorite. The only commentary I will add is that stories explaining the origin of the bat are common throughout the world, as many peoples pondered this strange hybrid animal that has characteristics of mammals and birds. The Coushatta version differentiates itself by making the bat the hero of the story, whereas in other cultures, the bat is sometimes portrayed as a turncoat between animals and birds who is punished for fence-sitting by being forced to hunt only at night, for example. 

I enjoyed writing this script tremendously, but it was quite the undertaking. Coming in at 29 pages, 8,000+ words, it is longer than most of the term papers I wrote in college, but I loved every second spent researching, organizing, and writing this episode. Four weeks is too long between episodes, but I hope this amount of content makes up for the wait. That gap will shrink over time. I hope for this to be the first Rabbit Tale Power Hour of many, including some with guests from other Tribes. As always, thank you for listening. 

Bayou Indian Radio is researched, written, recorded, and produced by me, Eli Langley. Special thanks to my script doctors and sounding boards Margaret Wilson, Jacob Ott, and my mom Dr. Linda Langley, who makes sure I get my history right. Find us soon on all social media @BayouIndian. Atoklo ma – until next time!