美国故事 SENEWS-2007-0623-Feature（在线收听）

Now the Special English program American Stories. Our story today is called "Grandfather Tells The Cat Story". It was written by Gray Kojo. Our story takes us to the southwestern part of the United States for a Navajo Indian story. Here is Shep O'Neal with the story.

It was another snow chilled day. The sun had just gone down. A Navajo Indian girl half opened the door and measured the coldness of the coming winter night. She called into the shivering air, "Nishoni! Nishoni! Nishoni!" Out of the darkness, a small kitten came running and answered the warm call.

Nishoni the kitten shook the snow off its cotton-like claws. The orange fire on the center floor of the room could be seen shining in the little cat's glassy eyes as in a mirror. The girl's hands firmly held the kitten as it tried to race back outside, then she closed the door. Nishoni jumped and bounced into the dark corner of the mudded logs of the walls. The children laughed at the funny cat, and grandfather laughed with them. Then, the children asked grandfather if they could hear the story of the cat once more. Grandfather put his bony back against the hard wall and began his story.

Long time ago before your mother and father were born, our people suffered a terrible snowstorm. Our Great Spirit grew angry against the people for not obeying his commands. Our medicine men searched for help, but said the Great Spirit would not promise a peaceful winter because too many people were evil. People did not follow the Great Spirit's orders. I must admit that I stupidly continue to get drunk on wine. I sold my best silver and jewels and our sheep and cows to buy more wine. I said false things about my neighbors. I beat you grandmother. I even stoned to death our cats when they came looking for food.

In the first days of our past, the time of your great, great grandparents, there were few cats in the wildland. They were treated like dogs or horses. Cats used to sleep among the sheep or dogs, or they hid under the pile of firewood for warmth. Our food was given only to the more useful dogs. The cats hunted lizards, mice and even the people's wastes for food. They were beaten if caught stealing food from our own supply or from the dog's meals. Sometimes the cats never lived to the next day during the cold nights. Anyway, your grandmother used to say, "Because it is the command of our Great Spirit to love all living creatures on earth, we should care for all the animals, tamed or wild." She used to spread out sheep skins for the cats outside during cold nights.

Six days and nights after the continuous snowstorm, twenty sheep and thirteen goats froze to death. Our dogs and horses began to get sick. Your grandmother and I stayed up without sleep, night after night, caring for the animals. We built huge fires in the corral and filled our house with the dying sheep and goats. Soon, we became very tired and weak. Our firewood burned out. In nineteen days our hands froze blue from searching the snow for grasses. The snow got too deep for the horses, so we could not ride to get help from our neighbors who lived far beyond the eastern hills.

One night, my head began to ache, and my body lost its strength then broke down, shivering with chills. At about mid-night, I lost all feeling and a terrible darkness filled my eyes. When I awoke I felt the cold touch of your grandmother. She told me that all the animals including the horses and dogs had died during my long sleep. I knew my death was coming. Your grandmother knew my sickness meant death and that there was no cure, not even a prayer. She only cried. I begged her to leave me to die and try to make her go to our nearest neighbor. I told her to follow a ridge where the snow might be thin and to take all the remaining food. I forced her to prepare me for burial. She cleaned my body. She beautified me with her turquoise beads and silver shells and covered me with her valuable fabrics and blankets. She wanted me to enter the great eternity with beauty. She said prayers not for curing but for all the evils I had done. She closed to the smoke hole and the door and left.

I saw darkness not as in a night, but as a silent, dark, emptiness. Suddenly, I found myself sitting on top of my motionless dead body. A soft chant came from the blackness, from where a voice commanded. The voice told me to wait there for the evil spirits to carry me to their nation.

What evil spirits? I asked. There was no answer. I was able to look down at my dead face. The hard, cruel eyes were finally closed. My mouth emptied of curses, and the scars of drunkenness turned pale and blue. The sight brought back terrible memories. I now regretted, all the cruelties and deaths I brought upon the living creatures. I found my own answer for my punishment. I cried. Immediately, a white cloud appeared out of the black emptiness. I froze with fright. The scene seemed to be only a trick, an allusion, but it was real. The cloud came closer and closer. I cried louder and louder. Then, the cloud flew open, several horsemen appeared, riding toward me. I could not run, I only watched as they came. The men were all galloping along on boney horses. The skins of the men stretched tightly on their skeletons. At some places, I could see some skinless joints in motion. They all looked as if they were once buried in old graves.

At a distance behind these ghosts, rode two more horsemen driving along our dead animals. They also pulled along an empty horse. These creatures were the evil spirits. They were coming for me as the voice had said. They stopped, and looked down at me. The skin on their faces was gone. I could see their angry teeth. The man with the empty horse moved to one side of his horse and held down his inviting hand. I forced up my hand, knowing that I had to go with them. As I felt the bony fingertip a sudden cry broke our hold. The hand of the evil spirit pulled back as if burned by fire. All the evil spirits fled back into the darkness, I was left alone. Right then, on the left side of my chest, I felt something wooly and warm. It was our cat. It was tarrying through the air with its open claws like an angry panther. The cat had frightened the evil spirits away. I wanted to touch and stroke the cat. But I was too stunned with surprise and happiness.

Slowly, I got to my feet with my arms around the cat. The dogs cheerfully raced to my side, then joyfully the cat, the dogs and I gathered up our sheep, goats and horses. Again, I heard the voice. It commanded that I and the cat should go back. The animals were to be put in a greener pasture than our land. The cloud flowed away with my life's dark. I cried, but then smiled when I pictured them in a green pasture. At the farthest distance a figure joined the flock and herded them out of sight.

Suddenly I was back in my body. The cat was cuddled up and snoring asleep on my chest, keeping my heart warm. Life had been given back to me by the cat I once tortured. Your grandmother died in the snowstorm. But I learned the commandment she always believed in. And I always think she was the figure who herded the flock to the greener pasture.

So ended grandfather's story. Grandfather has always kept a cat in his house since the horrible snowstorm.

Nishoni, which means beauty, is a name given to all his cats. A cat is fun for the children and keeps the rats, lizards and snakes out of the house. But it also with protection against the evil spirits. The fire burned low and the children quietly dozed off to sleep. Grandfather stepped outside and stood looking into the peaceful winter night, holding Nishoni in his arms.

You have just heard the story "Grandfather Tells The Cat Story". Your storyteller was Shep O'Neal. The story was written by Gray Kojo. It is copyrighted. All rights reserved by the author. This is Shirley Griffith.
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