#macmillan — Public Fediverse posts on home.social

Sandman Stories Presents @sandmanstoriespresents.wordpress.com@sandmanstoriespresents.wordpress.com · 2026-08-22 · 01:35 UTC

EP 347: Rabbit and the Indian Chief (Macmillan)

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RABBIT AND THE INDIAN CHIEF

Long ago, an Indian Chief lived with his people deep in the Canadian forest. Life was good and food was plentiful and everyone lived well. But one day a wicked giant and his old witch wife came crashing into the land from a country far beyond the prairies. They devoured all the food they could lay their hands on and soon there was nothing left to eat in the country; and they often carried off little children to their hiding place and ate them up until not a trace of them remained. Somewhere deep in the forest they lived in a hidden cave; they slept all day long, but at night they always came out in search of things to eat.

The Chief was very troubled, he and his warriors tried in every way to discover their hiding-place, but no one succeeded in finding it. By using their magic powers, the giant and his old witch wife could make themselves invisible when they walked among men and they could not be caught.

The Chief called all his warriors to a council, and he said, “Who can rid me of this pest? Who can kill the giant?” But not a man replied. And when he saw his people’s store of food rapidly growing smaller and the little children of his tribe slowly disappearing, he was greatly puzzled as to what he should do.

One night, in the bright moonlight, Rabbit was prowling through the woods, as usual, in search of someone to prank, because he was a joker. Suddenly, he came upon the giant and the old witch standing by a cave on the side of a mountain. He watched them for a long time from the shadow of a great tree, and at last he saw them enter a large hole in the side of the hill. He knew that he had hit upon the giant’s cave by accident and he was chuffed at his discovery. But he kept his secret to himself, for he thought, “Here is my chance to become famous. I will kill the giants with a crafty trick and then I will be seen as a great warrior, the best in all of the land, because all the warriors have failed to find the giants.”

So, he went to the Chief and said, “Oh, Chief, I know where the giants live and I swear that I am going to kill them. It is I alone who can rid you of these pests.”

“You?” said the Chief in great surprise; “How could you hurt the giants?; they will eat you up in one bite,” and he laughed out loud at Rabbit’s boldness.

He called his warriors saying, “See what a big bad fighter we have here! Little Rabbit says he can do what you have failed to do; he swears that he will kill the giants; I think he is better suited to kill a mouse!” And they all laughed at Rabbit’s vanity.

Poor Rabbit’s pride was deeply hurt by the Chief’s scorn and the warriors’ cruel laughter, but it made him more determined than ever to slay the thieving giants. So he went to an old woman who lived nearby and said, “Give me an old faded dress and a raggedy shawl and your sunglasses and a hat with a feather in it.”

The old woman wondered what tricks he was up to, but she gave him what he asked for. He put on the tattered old dress and the battered old hat with a red feather sticking out from the top, and he wrapped the old shawl about his face, and he wore the woman’s sunnies and he carried a crooked stick. Dressed up he set out in the evening for the giants’ home. When he reached the mouth of the cave, he stood still and waited, leaning on his crooked stick. Night was coming on and he knew that the giants would soon be going out on their rounds.

When it was quite dark, except for the moonlight, the old witch came out of the cave. When she saw Rabbit in the dim light she said gruffly, “Who are you, standing there in the shadows?”

“Oh, my dear niece,” said Rabbit, “I have found you at last. I am your poor old aunt. I thought I had lost my way. I have come to see you from your home in the far country. It was a long journey and my poor old legs and back are stiff and sore, and I am very hungry and tired.” And he moved slowly towards the woman, hobbling along with his crooked stick.

The giant woman was fooled, and she threw her arms around Rabbit and kissed him, and she did not feel his whiskers or his split lip because of the old shawl that was wrapped around his face. “I have a pain in my jaw from sleeping out of doors,” said Rabbit, “and I must keep my face wrapped up.”

“Come in and rest, and you will soon feel better,” said the giant woman.

“You will have to lead me in,” said Rabbit, not wishing to take off the shawl, “for my eyesight is very bad.”

So she led Rabbit into the warm cave, which was so dark that they could scarcely see each other, and she called her husband and said, “Here is my dear old aunt who has come all the way from the far country beyond the prairies.” And the giant, believing Rabbit to be his wife’s kin, since he couldn’t see him clearly, treated him very kindly. And they showed him the bed where he was to sleep.

The woman then gave Rabbit a large piece of dried meat to eat. But Rabbit said, “I cannot eat it, for I am old and I have lost all my teeth. Give me an axe to cut it up small.” So the woman brought him a sharp axe and he chopped the meat into small pieces and ate it all up. And he said, “I will keep the axe by me, for I shall need it at all my meals,” and he placed it beside his bed. The giant said, “We are going away to see some friends, but we shall be back before midnight.” But before they went away Rabbit said to the woman, “I hope your husband sleeps soundly; I have a bad cough and I sometimes moan because of the pain in my face and head and I do not wish to disturb him.”

And the old giant woman answered, “He slumbers too well. When we sleep we both snore loudly, and when you hear us snoring you may cough as much as you please, for then you will know that we are sound asleep.” Then the man and his wife went away.

When the giants came home, Rabbit pretended to be fast asleep. They brought back a lot of food that they hid in a secret place at the side of the cave. Rabbit watched them through the holes in the old shawl around his head. Soon, they went to bed, feeling drowsy after their fat meal. When Rabbit heard them snoring loudly like a great waterfall, “honk shoooo, honk shoooo,” he quietly arose and crept softly to the bedside. With two blows of his axe he killed the giant and his wife, one after the other. Then he ran away as fast as he could, carrying with him his old dress and hat and shawl, because he thought he might need them again.

In the morning he went to the Chief’s house and told the Chief what he had done. The Chief laughed scornfully and he would not believe it until Rabbit brought him to the cave and showed him the slain giants cold and stiff in their bed. Then the Chief’s men took the stacks of food the giants had hidden back to the village. The Chief and his men were happy that the thieves were gone, but they held a great resentment towards the rabbit, for he had done what they could not do.

One day, the Chief called all the animals to a council, and he said, “Now that the giants who robbed us of our food are dead and gone, and since we will never go hungry again in this land, I am going to let each animal choose the kind of food that they want to eat for the rest of their lives. That food will always be available for them.” And he called on each animal to make the choice.

The birds said “Grain, seeds, and worms,” the Squirrel said “Nuts,” and the Fox said “Chickens,” the cat said “Mice,” the dog said “Meat and bones,” the weasel said “Eggs,” the wolf said “Lambchops,” the bear said “Fish from the sea,” and so on until each animal was asked about their dietary needs. The Chief said, “It shall be as you have chosen.”

But the Chief had purposely neglected to call poor Rabbit to the council, and Rabbit was gone on a long journey. When he came home, he was very angry when he heard what had happened, because all of the food that was left was passed on by other animals. So he went to the Chief and said in great anger, “This is a fine way to thank me for getting rid of those two giants. But that is what you always do; you always reward good deeds with evil.”

The Chief was very angry because of Rabbit’s insolence, and he said, “You are telling lies again.” But Rabbit called witnesses to the truth of what he said: Sheep and Goat and Duck who happened to be passing by and who stood listening to the quarrel. Old Sheep said, “Rabbit has spoken truly. When I was young I gave the Chief heaps of wool to make clothes for his back and he used me well. But now that I am old he is going to kill me and eat me up. That is my reward.”

Old Goat said, “Rabbit has spoken wisely and justly. I served the Chief well in my time and gave him milk, but now that I am old and have no more milk he is fattening me and getting me ready for slaughter. That is my reward.”

Old Duck said, “Rabbit is telling the truth. Once upon a time, I gave the Chief many eggs and young ducklings, but now that I have stopped laying he is going to roast me in a pot. That is my reward.”

The Chief had no answer for these charges, because he knew them to be true, and he offered to do what he could for Rabbit. But Rabbit refused to choose a food, for he said the best was already gone. He sulked for a long time and lived alone the best he could.

At last he decided to take revenge on the Chief. He thought of a crafty trick. The Chief had an old Bear which he prized very highly, for the Bear did many wondrous tricks and brought mirth to him and his warriors when he danced. In the old times Bear had a long bushy tail, of which he was very proud. One day as Rabbit sat on the ice, fishing—for it was now winter— and Bear came along. There was going to be a feast that evening and he was going to dance for the Chief, and he was in very good spirits. “Where did you get all the fine fish?” he asked, for he was a great fish eater. “I caught them through the hole in the ice,” said Rabbit. “It is very easy. Just drop your tail down through the hole and it will soon be covered with fine big fish.”

Bear did as he was told, and he sat on the ice for a long time waiting for his prey. He sat so long that the hole froze up, because it was very cold, and Bear’s long bushy tail froze, too. “Now,” said Rabbit, “jump quickly, the fish are hanging on to you.”

Bear jumped with all his might, but his tail was held fast in the ice and it broke off close to the root. Rabbit laughed in great glee and ran away. And poor Bear howled with pain and shame. He could not dance at the feast because his stub of a tail was sore, and the Chief and the warriors were very angry at Rabbit because he had harmed their dancing pet. And since that time Bear has had a short stubby tail which to this day he tries to wag feebly.

Then Rabbit hid for a few days, far from the Chief and his warriors. After a while, he decided to try another trick. The Chief’s wood cutter was Beaver, who lived in a little house of reeds on the bank of a stream. He was very busy cutting down trees for the Chief, because spring was coming and the people needed logs for building roads over the rivers.

One day, Rabbit went to Beaver and said, “The Chief told me to tell you to cut down a big tree for him immediately.” So Beaver went along with him. But when Beaver was busy cutting down the tree, Rabbit hit him on the head with a big stick hoping to kill him, and thus anger the Chief. Poor Beaver fell to the ground and Rabbit ran away. But Beaver was only stunned. He got up after a while and went home muttering to himself and rubbing his sore head.

Soon Rabbit returned to the tree and found Beaver gone. He knew that his blow had failed. Then he again put on his tattered old dress and his ragged shawl and his coloured spectacles and the hat with the red feather sticking to the top, and he went to Beaver’s house by the stream, hobbling along with a stick. “The Chief sent me to you to bring you to a great tree he wishes you to cut down at once,” he called. And Beaver said, “I have already tried to cut a great tree for him today and I should have finished it had I not been beaten with a stick until I was stunned by the blow.”
“Who struck you?” asked Rabbit, laughing to himself.
“Rabbit struck me,” answered Beaver.
“He is a thug and a liar and a thief,” said Rabbit.

“He is all that,” said Beaver, rubbing the lump on his head. So Beaver went along with Rabbit. And Rabbit asked as they went along, “How is it that you are alive after that cruel blow?”

And Beaver said, “Rabbit hit me on the head. If he had hit me on the back of my neck he would have killed me, for there I keep the secret of my life.”

When Beaver was busy cutting down the tree again, Rabbit hit him with a powerful blow on the back of the neck and poor Beaver fell down dead. Then he cut off his tail, and went away happy, because he knew that the Chief would be very angry when he found what had happened to his wood cutter.

When the Chief learned that Beaver had been killed, his wrath knew no bounds, because it was a really bad time to lose his best wood cutter. He blamed Rabbit, but he could not be sure that it was actually him. Rabbit kept out of the Chief’s sight for some weeks.

But one day in early summer he was very hungry. He saw all the other animals filling their bellies with their favourite foods, and he decided to forget his sulking and ask the Chief for help. So he went to the Chief and said haughtily, “I want you to give me food for my own special use like you did with the other animals. Do it at once or I will mess up your life.” Then the Chief remembered what Rabbit had done to dancing Bear, and he thought of the death of Beaver, for which he blamed Rabbit, and he grew red with anger. He seized Rabbit by the heels and said, “Now dogs will always chase you, and you will never have peace when they are near. And you will live for the most part on whatever food you land on.” Then he swung Rabbit around his head by the heels, and he threw him from him with great force. Poor Rabbit went flying through the air for a great distance, farther than the Chief had hoped, and he dropped with a thud into a field of clover next to which cabbages and lettuce were growing. And since that time the dogs have always chased Rabbit and he has lived for the most part on cabbages and lettuce and clover which he steals on moonlight nights from farmers’ fields.

The End

Source: ⁠Canadian Fairy Tales by Cyrus Macmillan

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Richard @[email protected] · 2026-08-17 · 02:51 UTC

MacMillan Coffee Morning

https://brown-family.org.uk/macmillan-coffee-morning/

#beer #cancer #coffee #macmillan

Richard @[email protected] · 2026-08-17 · 02:51 UTC

MacMillan Coffee Morning

https://brown-family.org.uk/macmillan-coffee-morning/

#macmillan #coffee #cancer #beer

World Concert Hall @[email protected] · 2026-08-12 · 03:00 UTC

Right now, #MacMillan with Edwardes #Bach and #Ravel's 'Daphnis and Chloe' from #Brisbane https://www.worldconcerthall.com/en/schedule/macmillan_with_edwardes_bach_and_ravels_daphnis_and_chloe_from_brisbane/93530/ #wch

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World Concert Hall @[email protected] · 2026-08-12 · 03:00 UTC

Right now, #MacMillan with Edwardes #Bach and #Ravel's 'Daphnis and Chloe' from #Brisbane https://www.worldconcerthall.com/en/schedule/macmillan_with_edwardes_bach_and_ravels_daphnis_and_chloe_from_brisbane/93530/ #wch

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World Concert Hall @[email protected] · 2026-08-12 · 03:00 UTC

Right now, #MacMillan with Edwardes #Bach and #Ravel's 'Daphnis and Chloe' from #Brisbane https://www.worldconcerthall.com/en/schedule/macmillan_with_edwardes_bach_and_ravels_daphnis_and_chloe_from_brisbane/93530/ #wch

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World Concert Hall @[email protected] · 2026-08-12 · 03:00 UTC

Right now, #MacMillan with Edwardes #Bach and #Ravel's 'Daphnis and Chloe' from #Brisbane https://www.worldconcerthall.com/en/schedule/macmillan_with_edwardes_bach_and_ravels_daphnis_and_chloe_from_brisbane/93530/ #wch

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World Concert Hall @[email protected] · 2026-08-12 · 03:00 UTC

Right now, #MacMillan with Edwardes #Bach and #Ravel's 'Daphnis and Chloe' from #Brisbane https://www.worldconcerthall.com/en/schedule/macmillan_with_edwardes_bach_and_ravels_daphnis_and_chloe_from_brisbane/93530/ #wch

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World Concert Hall @[email protected] · 2026-08-12 · 02:40 UTC

In 20 minutes, #MacMillan with Edwardes #Bach and #Ravel's 'Daphnis and Chloe' from #Brisbane https://www.worldconcerthall.com/en/schedule/macmillan_with_edwardes_bach_and_ravels_daphnis_and_chloe_from_brisbane/93530/ #wch

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World Concert Hall @[email protected] · 2026-08-12 · 02:40 UTC

In 20 minutes, #MacMillan with Edwardes #Bach and #Ravel's 'Daphnis and Chloe' from #Brisbane https://www.worldconcerthall.com/en/schedule/macmillan_with_edwardes_bach_and_ravels_daphnis_and_chloe_from_brisbane/93530/ #wch

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World Concert Hall @[email protected] · 2026-08-12 · 02:40 UTC

In 20 minutes, #MacMillan with Edwardes #Bach and #Ravel's 'Daphnis and Chloe' from #Brisbane https://www.worldconcerthall.com/en/schedule/macmillan_with_edwardes_bach_and_ravels_daphnis_and_chloe_from_brisbane/93530/ #wch

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World Concert Hall @[email protected] · 2026-08-12 · 02:40 UTC

In 20 minutes, #MacMillan with Edwardes #Bach and #Ravel's 'Daphnis and Chloe' from #Brisbane https://www.worldconcerthall.com/en/schedule/macmillan_with_edwardes_bach_and_ravels_daphnis_and_chloe_from_brisbane/93530/ #wch

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World Concert Hall @[email protected] · 2026-08-12 · 02:40 UTC

In 20 minutes, #MacMillan with Edwardes #Bach and #Ravel's 'Daphnis and Chloe' from #Brisbane https://www.worldconcerthall.com/en/schedule/macmillan_with_edwardes_bach_and_ravels_daphnis_and_chloe_from_brisbane/93530/ #wch

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World Concert Hall @[email protected] · 2026-08-11 · 18:20 UTC

Today, #MacMillan with Edwardes #Bach and #Ravel's 'Daphnis and Chloe' from #Brisbane https://www.worldconcerthall.com/en/schedule/macmillan_with_edwardes_bach_and_ravels_daphnis_and_chloe_from_brisbane/93530/ #wch

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World Concert Hall @[email protected] · 2026-08-11 · 18:20 UTC

Today, #MacMillan with Edwardes #Bach and #Ravel's 'Daphnis and Chloe' from #Brisbane https://www.worldconcerthall.com/en/schedule/macmillan_with_edwardes_bach_and_ravels_daphnis_and_chloe_from_brisbane/93530/ #wch

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World Concert Hall @[email protected] · 2026-08-11 · 18:20 UTC

Today, #MacMillan with Edwardes #Bach and #Ravel's 'Daphnis and Chloe' from #Brisbane https://www.worldconcerthall.com/en/schedule/macmillan_with_edwardes_bach_and_ravels_daphnis_and_chloe_from_brisbane/93530/ #wch

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World Concert Hall @[email protected] · 2026-08-11 · 18:20 UTC

Today, #MacMillan with Edwardes #Bach and #Ravel's 'Daphnis and Chloe' from #Brisbane https://www.worldconcerthall.com/en/schedule/macmillan_with_edwardes_bach_and_ravels_daphnis_and_chloe_from_brisbane/93530/ #wch

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World Concert Hall @[email protected] · 2026-08-11 · 18:20 UTC

Today, #MacMillan with Edwardes #Bach and #Ravel's 'Daphnis and Chloe' from #Brisbane https://www.worldconcerthall.com/en/schedule/macmillan_with_edwardes_bach_and_ravels_daphnis_and_chloe_from_brisbane/93530/ #wch

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David Boles @[email protected] · 2026-08-03 · 13:40 UTC

Swimming the Author

England tested witches with water. The suspect was bound, right thumb to left toe, looped to a rope, and lowered into the village pond. Pure water was believed to refuse the devil's servant, so a body that floated was guilty and a body that sank was innocent, and the innocent were hauled up half-drowned to receive the town's apology. The procedure was called swimming a witch, and its genius was architectural: it could only convict. Whatever the water did, the crowd on the bank went home with the verdict it had carried down to the shore. Four centuries on, the pond fits in a browser tab. Paste the chapter. Click the button. Let the water decide. […]

https://bolesblogs.com/2026/08/03/swimming-the-author/

#aidetection #aidetectors #artificialintelligence #authors #authorsguild #authorship

David Boles @[email protected] · 2026-08-03 · 13:40 UTC

Swimming the Author

England tested witches with water. The suspect was bound, right thumb to left toe, looped to a rope, and lowered into the village pond. Pure water was believed to refuse the devil's servant, so a body that floated was guilty and a body that sank was innocent, and the innocent were hauled up half-drowned to receive the town's apology. The procedure was called swimming a witch, and its genius was architectural: it could only convict. Whatever the water did, the crowd on the bank went home with the verdict it had carried down to the shore. Four centuries on, the pond fits in a browser tab. Paste the chapter. Click the button. Let the water decide. […]

https://bolesblogs.com/2026/08/03/swimming-the-author/

#aidetection #aidetectors #artificialintelligence #authors #authorsguild #authorship

David Boles @[email protected] · 2026-08-03 · 13:40 UTC

Swimming the Author

England tested witches with water. The suspect was bound, right thumb to left toe, looped to a rope, and lowered into the village pond. Pure water was believed to refuse the devil's servant, so a body that floated was guilty and a body that sank was innocent, and the innocent were hauled up half-drowned to receive the town's apology. The procedure was called swimming a witch, and its genius was architectural: it could only convict. Whatever the water did, the crowd on the bank went home with the verdict it had carried down to the shore. Four centuries on, the pond fits in a browser tab. Paste the chapter. Click the button. Let the water decide. […]

https://bolesblogs.com/2026/08/03/swimming-the-author/

#aidetection #aidetectors #artificialintelligence #authors #authorsguild #authorship

David Boles @[email protected] · 2026-08-03 · 13:40 UTC

Swimming the Author

England tested witches with water. The suspect was bound, right thumb to left toe, looped to a rope, and lowered into the village pond. Pure water was believed to refuse the devil's servant, so a body that floated was guilty and a body that sank was innocent, and the innocent were hauled up half-drowned to receive the town's apology. The procedure was called swimming a witch, and its genius was architectural: it could only convict. Whatever the water did, the crowd on the bank went home with the verdict it had carried down to the shore. Four centuries on, the pond fits in a browser tab. Paste the chapter. Click the button. Let the water decide. […]

https://bolesblogs.com/2026/08/03/swimming-the-author/

#writing #witchtrials #witchhunt #swimmingthewitches #substack #shygirl

David Boles @[email protected] · 2026-08-03 · 13:40 UTC

Swimming the Author

England tested witches with water. The suspect was bound, right thumb to left toe, looped to a rope, and lowered into the village pond. Pure water was believed to refuse the devil's servant, so a body that floated was guilty and a body that sank was innocent, and the innocent were hauled up half-drowned to receive the town's apology. The procedure was called swimming a witch, and its genius was architectural: it could only convict. Whatever the water did, the crowd on the bank went home with the verdict it had carried down to the shore. Four centuries on, the pond fits in a browser tab. Paste the chapter. Click the button. Let the water decide. […]

https://bolesblogs.com/2026/08/03/swimming-the-author/

#aidetection #aidetectors #artificialintelligence #authors #authorsguild #authorship

World Concert Hall @[email protected] · 2026-07-10 · 17:03 UTC

Right now, #Adams #MacMillan and #Mozart with Lorenzen, Wallroth, Spence and Störtz from #Stockholm https://www.worldconcerthall.com/en/schedule/adams_macmillan_and_mozart_with_lorenzen_wallroth_spence_and_stortz_from_stockholm/93134/ #wch