Legends of Camp Tannadoonah
Like any great camp with any history, Camp Tannadoonah is ripe with tales of adventure and myth. Crafted and often retold over a crackling camp fire, legends are borne of fascination, a kernel of truth, and a passion for storytelling. Enjoy a few of our legends here.
A Legend of Tannadoonah
Many moons ago, when the Great Oak, which stands guard over our cooking fires, was but a tiny sapling, a young Indian scout made his way silently through the forest. The birds chattered to him as he passed, and farther away a mother deer and her young fawn stared at him curiously.
Suddenly the scout found himself on the brink of a high hill and far below through the trees he could see the deep blue of a hidden lake. What a beautiful sight! Yes, he thought, this is the perfect place for the new village of my people. And he hurried off to tell the others of the place he had found. Soon there was a small Indian village on the top of the hill that overlooked the lake.
The Indians were happy in their new home. Game was plentiful and the lake was filled with fish. Their corn grew tall in the clearing they had made. From the birch trees that grew in the forest they took bark for their canoes. The people sang as they went about their work, and the children played happily in the forest - catching frogs in the little streams or chasing chipmunks down the hill. It was a good life and the Indian village prospered.
Then one day things began to change. The great rains, which in other times had sent their waters down upon all the land, stayed n the heavens. Mother Earth became brown and dry. Soon the Beaver, the Raccoon, and the Great Stag took their families to other parts of the forest.
Times were hard in the Indian village. The people quenched their thirst in the clear waters of the lake, but there was little food to be found. We must leave this place, the people declared. We must find a new home.
"Ah," said the old chief, "have you forgotten your happiness by the Lake of the Birches? The great spirits have been good to us and before many moons have passed they will bring good times once more. When the Summer Sun is old and has lost his power, the rains will come again. Until that day, let us go out into the forest to seek for the Beaver and the Great Stag. Each family will go its own way. When the rains come, we will return once again to our home by the Lake of the Birches."
"Ah, you are wise, great chief," the people replied. "Let us begin for the journey." And so each family set about gathering its belongings. The tools, the cooking pots, and the fishing nets - all were made ready for the journey. Then, just as they were ready to set out, the chief called the tribe together. A silence fell over the group, as they waited to see what parting message the chief would have.
When he spoke, his voice was strangely quiet. "My people," he said. "We are about to set off into many scattered places. Our feet will touch new paths, and our eyes will see new parts of the forest. Each family will go its own way - seeking food and shelter along the trail. But we must not forget the good life we have had here - the life to which we will return. And now let us go. May the good spirits watch over you until we meet again at Tannadoonah - the place of the gathering of friends upon a hill, beside a lake in the woods."
After many moons the tribe did return to their home on the hill by the lake in the woods and they spent many happy years together. And so it is today, a Tannadoonah camper carries the spirit of Tannadoonah in their heart.
The Princess Tree
Long, long ago a tribe of Indians lived here in the land of the Birches by Birch Lake. They were very prosperous, and had plenty of food to eat. Then there was a drought. It didn't rain for days. The plants died, and the animals left the land of the birches to find other food. There was no food for the Indian tribe and they decided that they had better travel to a different part of the forest to look for food. The warriors said goodbye to their squaws and Princess Tannadoonah promised to stay in the land of the Birches to wait for her warrior whom she loved very much. The women waited for days and days, but their warriors never returned. They finally decided to go find their own food because they didn't have any food or water. Princess Tannadoonah stayed in the land of the Birches to wait for her warrior because he had promised to return for her. Several days passed and Princess Tannadoonah died of starvation and a broken heart. A few days later her warrior returned to find Princess Tannadoonah dead beside a small sapling. He buried her body and planted the tree over her grave. The tree grew and grew. All of its branches represent the great amount of love that Princess Tannadoonah and her warrior had for each other.
How the Fairy Ring Began
Once upon a time there was a happy little Blue Bird who flew merrily in the blue, blue sky. He was happy until one day he saw a little girl crying. He never liked to see little girls cry, so he flew down to see what was the matter. He heard the little girl sob, "Oh, I lost my beautiful ring that sparkles in the sun. I wish I could find it!" Hoping that he could help her find it, the Blue Bird searched carefully in every corner of the yard. He hunted and hunted. Finally, a sparkly light caught his eye, and he swooped down on it. Sure enough, it was the ring that the little girl had lost. My! The Blue Bird was happy when he thought how happy the little girl would be when she saw that he had found her ring! He rushed back to where the girl had been sitting to tell her the news. But in his eagerness to show her that he had found the ring, he flew too fast and the ring slipped out of his beak and fell into the grass.
"Oh dear," he thought, "What shall I do?" Then an idea came to him. He marked the place where he had dropped the ring and then flew back to get the little girl. "Come with me" he chirped, and though the little girl couldn't understand his exact words, she knew by his chirping that he wanted her to follow him. The Blue Bird thought that maybe together the two of them would be able to find the ring.
When they came to the spot the bird had marked, a marvelous sight met their eyes! The ring had been made twenty times its first size, and the sparkling stone was in the very center making light all around it! The little girl gasped and the Blue Bird could scarcely believe his eyes.
Suddenly there was a brilliant flash of light, and a tiny shimmering Blue Fairy appeared floating down on a sunbeam. She was beautiful, with golden hair that fell softly over her shoulders. In her gentle voice she said, "Little Blue Bird, you have tried so hard to be helpful and to make one little girl happy; therefore, I have made this ring with its shining light in the middle big enough so that it will make many little girls happy. Not every girl, mind you, but girls who are, as you have been, helpful and kind, mindful of others' needs. Those girls shall be called Blue Birds, after you, and this ring, their ring, shall be called a Fairy Ring." The Blue Fairy then hopped on another sunbeam and vanished out of sight.
And because the little Blue Bird tried to make someone happy, we have our fairy ring with its gleaming light in the middle - just like the first Fairy Ring.
The Legend of the Patteran
Many years ago in a far away land, there was a band of gypsies who wandered happily over the land. Their cares were few and trouble less. They had known nothing but gaiety and hours filled with laughter. Their songs and dances were known the land over, and people looked forward to their arrival in the villages and towns. It was always a festive occasion for everyone with much dancing, singing, and feasting. Their clothes and colors were always gay and bright… and their beautiful music and lively dances seemed to weave a magic spell over everyone.
A time came though, when their happy and carefree days were over. The land was hit by a hard drought, and since the gypsies depended on the land for their needs, they especially suffered. Their beautiful horses, that they were so proud of, died, as they traveled along, due to lack of water. Illness, hunger, and unhappiness, spread itself like a dark gloomy cloud over these once happy people. The gypsies campfires did not burn brightly, nor did the people care to sing and dance. Evil spirits seemed to follow the people wherever they went.
The villagers and townspeople were no longer anxious to see the gypsies come, for it meant nothing but trouble. The bright and colorful clothes of the gypsies became torn, dirty, and tattered. Instead of dancing and singing the gypsies now had to steal in order to find something to eat. They fought and quarreled among themselves and picked fights with the villagers. Many times the townspeople would gather and shout angrily, "We don't want gypsies here! Drive them out!"
Now the oldest of the gypsies was a very old man and very wise by the name of Victorio. Victorio was very unhappy over the plight of his people and vainly tried to think of a solution to their problem. One day he called his band together to speak to them. "My people," he said, "These troubled times have caused me much unhappiness. The spirits must be very displeased with us. Something must be done!"
"Let us disband," cried one of the younger gypsy leaders. "We cannot find enough food living together. Let us take our families and move to different spots."
"No," cried Victorio, "We must try and work out our problems together so that people will be glad to see us come to their towns once again. We are gypsies and will remain so. I can remember my grandfather telling me a gypsy legend when I was a very small boy. It is about a symbol called the Patteran. Supposedly when a gypsy band is in grave trouble, they can search for this Patteran and perhaps it will help us."
So the gypsy band started out to look for their Patteran. They searched far and wide for the symbol, but could not find it. Months went by… months of endless traveling and looking, but wherever they went they were disappointed in not finding the Patteran. But a marvelous thing was happening. While they searched for the hidden symbol, they started to sing and dance, together again. After many, many months of endless searching, Victorio called his people together.
"My people," the wise leader said with a smile on his face and a twinkle in his eye. "We have found the Patteran."
The people looked stunned. They whispered among themselves, "Our leader grows old, he does not know what he is saying. We have not found the Patteran. We have spent much time looking for it, but to no avail."
Victorio answered his people's questions by saying, "We have indeed found the Patteran. It is among us now. It is the smile on your lips, the song in your heart, and the gay steps your feet wish to do. It is the happiness and good times we are once again having as a gypsy band. You see, my people, the Patteran is the symbol of happiness, the good times together, and pleasant memories. In searching for the Patteran we found a common interest as a group and forgot our troubles."
The people knew Victorio was right and at once they started to sing and dance and build their campfires higher and brighter. They sang late into the night about the glorious wonders of the Patteran and the marvelous adventures it had brought the gypsies while searching for it.
The gypsies were so pleased because the good spirits smiled on them again that they decided that other gypsy bands should know about the Patteran and so they spread its fame around the world. They would leave messages of cheer, and adventures of wonder, in hiding places and when a gypsy band was in trouble or needed cheering up they would search for it. Because the spirits are pleased with the gypsy bands of Tannadoonah, we, too, have a Patteran. Every five years when the Gypsy bands assemble to tell of their wondrous adventures and sing their gypsy song, the Patteran is searched for. Tannadoonah's Patteran holds pleasant and wonderful memories of the past and promises a bright and happy future for those who search for it. May the good gypsy spirits make you smile, sing, and dance, in your search for the Patteran.
