For many Native American tribes, the constellation of the Pleiades, or the Seven Sisters, is an important

marker for the passage of time. This is particularly true in the northeast, where the constellation appears in
the spring and vanishes below the horizon with the onset of winter. For the tribes indigenous to the Broome
County region, such as the Iroquois (Mohawk) and Algonquin, the cycle of the Pleiades was vitally important,
as it delineated the frost-free season during which maize could be cultivated.

There are many legends about the Seven Sisters. One Onandoga tale is set in the late autumn, during the trip to
the tribe's hunting grounds. A group of seven children, left idle when their elders went off to hunt, occupy
themselves each day with festive dancing. Ignoring a mysterious white-feathered figure who warns them such
levity would come to no good, they continue their dances. Their revels leave them hungry, and they ask for
food for their elders, who refuse them and admonish the childrens' frivolity. As the daily dancing continues,
the children grow lighter and lighter, and eventually begin floating towards the heavens, where they remain to
this day.

Abstract
Iroquois and Algonquian cultivators of northeastern North America are among the world's
varied cultures to observe the bright cluster of stars known as the Pleiades. According to
documentary, ethnographic, and archaeological evidence these northeast natives appear to
have related the coincidence of the Pleiades' celestial positions in spring and fall with the
seasonal limits of the frost-free season. This significant discovery, it is proposed, provided
a scientific basis for achieving maize productivity in a near-marginal region; it was therefore
a critical part of their cultivation technology and as such is reflected in myths and
ceremonies.

THE DANCE OF THE 7 SISTERS (AN IROQUOIAN LEGEND)

Adapted by Amy Friedman - Published: Jan. 21, 1993 12:00 a.m.

Long ago, when the earth and sky were new, seven sisters lived in a village. The sisters loved to
dance. Every day they danced together in the forest, and wherever one sister went, the others
followed. Every evening the sisters returned to the longhouse to rest, but by morning they
were ready to dance.

One evening, as the sun began to set, the sisters heard in the distance a glorious song. The
song seemed to be calling to them, and in a moment they forgot about their suppers and they
forgot about their home. They stood still and listened, and then, without speaking a word, they
danced off toward the source of the song.They danced through the woods and into the forest.
On they danced as the sun dipped toward the horizon. The stars began to gleam and the sky
grew darker, but still the sisters danced toward the sound. Then, suddenly, their feet seemed
lighter, and when they looked down they saw that everything they had ever known was far
below them, and they knew they were dancing up into the sky.

They danced on, higher and higher, moving toward the beautiful sound, and the song
grewlouder and louder and more and more beautiful and more and more mysterious. Below
them the longhouse and the trees and their friends and families seemed to grow smaller and
smaller. And then the song became a sweet, gentle voice.

I came to the sky . . .

for a hunter pursued me.

And now I am lost in the sky.

On the sisters danced, higher and higher.

Come my sisters,

Come here to me in the sky,

And I will watch over you.

Then the sisters saw who was singing the song. It was a great black bear. Her tail glistened, for
it was strewn with stars, and around her neck she wore a shimmering necklace of stars. Her
nose and her toes twinkled with stars, and around her belly hung a belt of shining stars.

The sisters danced closer and the bear went on singing. On and on she sang, and the sisters
went on dancing. They danced for hours, and the great black bear sang, and her toes and nose
and tail and neck and belly glistened.

After many hours, the sisters looked up and saw how very dark it was and how far away they
had traveled, and they could not remember the way home.

The moon smiled and winked and watched as the sisters went on dancing. "My children," she
said, "this is your home now. The stars and I love the way you dance, and we wish you to live
here with us."

The sisters leaped and twirled and whirled and swayed and twisted and tapped and toed. To
their amazement, they did not grow tired. They twirled faster, they whirled faster and each
time they twirled another star twinkled and grew, and the great black bear's song grew
sweeter still.

Then suddenly the smallest sister heard a voice. She heard another voice. She heard it over the
sound of the song and over the tapping of her sisters' feet. And she knew it was her mother's
voice. "Come back, sister," cried the six dancing sisters, but the little girl was racing now.
"Come back, sister," called the dancing sisters once again, and they watched as their youngest
sister ran with a bright star trailing her.

Together the youngest sister and the star descended from the sky. Down, down, down they
sped, past clouds and past the eagle's nest and past the tallest branches of the trees. On they
raced, down, down, down.

At last the smallest sister saw her mother and she raced faster still. And finally she landed on
the ground. But when she landed, she vanished, and there, in her place, was simply a hole. Her
mother looked down at the hole, and she began to weep. And then she looked into the sky and
she saw her other daughters dancing still.

"Stay in the sky," she called to warn them. "Stay there and dance with the great black bear or
you will crash to earth."

The sisters heard their mother's pleading voice over the sound of the great black bear's song,
and they nodded their heads and waved and smiled, and the stars behind them twinkled more
brightly. "Yes, mother," they called, "we will stay in the sky."

Down below the mother sat and wept, and soon she saw a small green shoot spring up from
the hole. Quickly it grew, higher and higher. This was the youngest sister reaching up for her
sisters. Higher the shoot grew until at last it reached the six sisters, and they cried, "Welcome
back, sister."
Five nights after the new moon in January, the constellation Pleiades reaches its highest point
in the night sky. Pleiades is a group of seven stars sometimes called the Seven Sisters, part of a
larger constellation known as Taurus, or the Bull. On a clear winter's night, look south; you
may see Pleiades.

The Iroquoian new year begins on this date and lasts for eight days. The Iroquois celebrate
with a midwinter festival, a time to pray that life will be renewed. "The Dance of the Seven
Sisters" is one version of a traditional Iroquoian tale about the origin of Pleiades. In some
versions of this tale, seven sisters dance, while in others there are seven brothers.

1993 Universal Press Syndicate

Last week I told a short version of the story of the Ani Tsutsa, the Seven Boys, who got angry
with their mothers and danced into the sky to become the constellation we know as the
Pleiades. Some have asked me why they were angry with their mothers. So, here is the rest
of the story as told to James Mooney, Long ago, when the world was new, there were seven
boys who used to spend all their time down by the townhouse playing the gatayu sti game,
rolling a stone wheel along the ground and sliding a curved stick after it to strike.

Game of Gatayu sti

Painting by George Catlin

Gatayu sti, also known as Chunkey, was played with a stone disk about an inch thick and three
inches in diameter. The disk was rolled across the ground and the players would chunk long
spears at it. Closest got one point, hitting it gave two points.

Their mothers scolded, but it did no good, so one day they collected some gatayu sti stones
and boiled them in the pot with the corn for dinner. When the boys came home hungry their
mothers dipped out the stones and said, Since you like the gatayu sti better than the
cornfield, take the stones now for your dinner.

This story had different versions in different tribes. The following Iroquois story is from a
wonderful book by Jean Guard Monroe and Ray A. Williamson called They Dance in the Sky,
One autumn many years ago, a band of Onandaga Iroquois were walking toward their winter
hunting ground near a large lake in southeast Canada. They had to travel slowly, because the
land was wild and rough. When they finally arrived at the place they called Beautiful Lake,
they were very thankful because, as in years before, they found much game and fish there.
Clear water flowed from the many springs in the lovely valley nestled among the hills.

Tracks-in-the-Water, the chief of the band, thanked the Great spirit for their safe arrival and
for the abundance of wildlife. We will camp here for the winter, he told his people. It will
be a good winter. Everyone was happy. They knew they would prosper in this peaceful valley
by Beautiful Lake.

Soon autumn ended and the weather turned colder. Eight children from the band tired of
helping their mothers and fathers in the daily chores and began to dance by the lake to amuse
themselves. They picked a quiet place away from the village. Each day they met and danced
for hours at a time. Though they got hungry and lightheaded, they still danced on and on.

For a long time everything went well. Then one day, while the boys and girls were dancing, a
glorious old man appeared to them. He shone like silver in the late autumn sunshine and was
covered from head to toe with a cloak of brilliant white feathers. His gleaming hair was very
long and white. He was kindly, but he warned the children not to keep on dancing or
something terrible would happen to them.

The children didnt want to hear his words; they continued to dance. Each day, Bright Shining
Old Man, as they called him, came and warned them, but the children ignored him.

One day the children decided to take food along with them so they could stay out longer the
next day. They asked for food, but their parents refused. You must eat at home as usual.
Then you may go play. But they resolved to dance all day long just the same. After a while,
the children became hungry, and their hunger made them lightheaded. Then slowly, little by
little, they began to rise in the air. Suddenly one youngster cried, Dont look down,
something strange is going on. We seem to be dancing on the air!

What great fun! thought the children. At first they were excited and pleased, but soon
dancing on air frightened them. Now they couldnt stop or they would fall to earth far below.
Bright Shining Old Man looked up, shaking his head. He watched them rise farther and farther
up into Sky Country.

If only they had listened to me, Bright Shining Old Man thought sadly.

The Pleiades Constellation

Ani Tsutsa to the Cherokee

Oot-kwa-tah to the Iroquois

Soon an old woman in the village noticed that that the boys and girls were floating away. She
called and called for them to come back, but they did not stop dancing. Then the whole band
gathered below and tried to call the children back, but to no avail.

All this time the children kept on dancing faster and faster. They did not look down. One
small boy recognized his fathers voice above the others. The chief, Tracks-in-the-Water,
called loudly to his son, Come back, come back! The boy looked down and saw his father. At
once he became a falling star. The other children just kept floating up, up, far into the sky.
The Onandaga call them Oot-kwa-tah.

Now whenever the Onondaga Iroquois see a falling star, they are reminded of Oot-kwa-tah,
the band of headstrong dancing children.