Nenabosho slays Toad-Woman, the healer of the Manitous
Mii sa neyaap eko-biiyaanigiban gii-ko-biiyaanig.
Abaapish neyaap gaa-ako-biiyaanig, miisa zhigwa weweni go odoonaabandaan waa-daad. Mii dash i’imaa waa-onjiid i’iw dayoosh* wii-nandone’iged. Mii sa geyaabi babaamademod, ningoding sa awiya onoondawaan biminagamonid: “Aki ekwaag nimbishinawishin, nimbishinawishin saa Aki ekwaag nimbishinawishin, nimbishinawishin saa.(1) Odinitawaan awiya biminagamonid. Wegoneniiwinaan onaazitawaan. Apii debaabamaad, goniginiin, omakakiin bimiyaanjigwaashkoniwan. Wiigobiin bemoondaminid, gaye zhiishiigwanan obimiwinaanini odoodanaaning dakobizowan. Niibiwa dash iiniw wiigobiin bemoondaminid ezhi-mawinanaad. Ezhi-odisaad, aaniish, aapiji mindimooyenyan. “Nookoo, aaniin wenji-nagamoyan?” “Kaa, Nenabosho gosha wii-nandobikaaso. Mii wa nino* wayaabadakin onoow wiigobiin gaa-bimoondamaan. Nenabosho gosha wiin gaa-bimwaad iiniw ogimaa mishibizhiin.” “Nookoo, aaniin wiin i’iw waa-onji-nandoobikaazod a’aw Nenabosho?” “Kaa, gaawiin ash(dash?) wiin mii go iw ezhi-saagisininig i’iw obikwak a’aw Nenabosho. O’ow oodena mi i’imaa baa-onjiiyaan. Mii dash imaa ayaawa bimaadizi a’aw ogimaamishibizhii.” “Nookomis! Aaniin dash wiin i’iw i’iwe gibiminagamoyan?” “Kaa, gaawiin-ash wiin niinanaandawi’aanaan a’aw ogimaa, mii dash iw ena’amaan i’iwe nanaandawi’ag: ‘Aki ekwaag nimbishinawashin.’ “Mii sa iw aapiji giniin niminotaagoo. Nagamon onishishin.” “Nookoo! Aandi dinong namadabiyan?” “Aapiji go mayaawishkaand mii go imaa endanabiyaan. Iw idash gaa-izhichigewaad, aabita gashkiikibide; mii dash iwiti awasaya’ii zhingishing a’aw nindoo-gimaaminaan.” “Aandi dash wiin i’iw endaayan?” “Mii go imaa ekwaakwaag endaayaan. Aapiji go agaansaa i’iw niwiigwaamens. Gaye dash niizhiwag noozhisag, aapiji go babiiwishiiyoowag gwiiwizensag; mii eta go iigiw waadigemagwaa.” “Nookoo! Aaniin wiin ii’iw gaa-izhinawe’aad iiniw Nenaboshowan?” “Kaa, kaaanawiin ogii-odaapinamawaan iiniw odoozhimini. Aapiji Nenabosho ozaagi’aabaniin iiniw odoozhiman. Mii dash i’iw gii-nishki’aad, gaa-onji-pimogod.” “Aah, aaniin gota wiin ezhiikawaagobanen aw ogimaamshibizhiin i’iwe mamawaagobanen iiniw odoozhimini? Gaawiin sa wiin agaanhsi manidoowisii a’aw Nenabosho ezhinikaazod.” Odaadaganaabamigoon: Nyaanh, maagizhaa giin Nenabosho!” “Tediwe! Gaawiin minik i’iw gidaa-kaganoonigosii Nenabosho aawid. Mewizha gidaa-niiwana’og giishpin aawiyaan Nenabosho. Nookoo! Daga, miinawaa maajii’an ginagamon! Gaawiin gwej ningikendaziin i’iw ginagamon.” Aaniish geyaabi: “Aki ekwaag nimbishinawishin, nimbishinawishin, saa. Aki ekwaag nimbishinawishin, nimbishinawishin, saa.” Wegoneniiwinen Nenabosho oniiwanawaan. “Daga, aweneniwiinena aw maji-mindimooyenshish.” Aatayaa, Nenabosho omaajiikawaan i’iw bakonaad, wawiinge obakonaan. Gaagiizhi-pakonaad, aapiji agaashiinyikaaso Nenabosho. Wegoneniiwinen ezhi-piisikawaad iiniw omakakiiwayaanan, wawiinge ode-bishkawaan (ode-bisikawaan?). Bangii omaa opwaaning (obwaaning?) ogaa-kikiishkawaan. Gaa-piisikawaad, iiniw ozhiishiigwanan odoondanaang odakobinaan, gaye iiniw wiigobiin odoomboondaanan. Aah, Nenabosho ezhi-gwaashkwanid ezhi-maajii’ang: “Aki ekwaag nimbishinawishin, nimbishinawishin, saa. Aki ekwaag nimbishinawishin, nimbishinawishin, saa.” Aapiji go gizhiiwe (giizhiwe*) biminagamod. Zhayiigwa odebaabandaan oodena. Abaapish ekwaakwaanig degoshing, geget owaabandaan wiigiwaamens. “Mii maa wiin i’iw gaa-itang,” inendam. Gomaa go abiisinaagwadiniwan iiniw wiigiwaaman. Aaniish aapiji enigok biminagamo, noondawaa biminagamod. Bezhig ezhi-giigidod: “Eh, zhigwa miinawaa gookoonaan biidwewidam. Mii iw zhigwa miinawaa ji-awisagaswe’eg.” Mii zhigwa ani-oditang wiigiwaamens, neyaag* igo bi-zaaga’amoo gwiiwisensa. “Nooko, gidagwishin ina?” “Eye, nooshisidog, nindagwishin.” Eni-izhi-piindiged, wagijijiingwan namadabiwa i’iw ooshisa. Wegoneniiwinen bezhig iiniw ooshisan owaabamigoon i’imaa giigaagikiishkawaad* iiniw omakakiiwayaanan. “Nooko, aaniin wiin i’imaa gii-izhinaagoziyan? Anishinaabe wazhaga’aang gidizhinaagoz.” “Kaa, nimbigwadagii izhiikamaaniko iiniw wiigobiin wii-andawaabikaazod a’aw Nenabosho.” Aapiji sa gichi-enigok nagamon (nagamod*). Mii sa geget gaa-bii-izhi-sagaswe’ind, mii dash gaa-izhi-maajaad. Zhigwa gookoonaan obeshwaabandaan* i’iw wiigiwaam. Etawaa, shkwaandeng aaniin ge-zhinang odoozhimiwayaanan gibishkwaande’igewen. Mii go iw wiibidaani ezhi-gigishininig. Etiwe Nenabosho! Mii go iw ezhi-siigisenig iiniw oshkiinzhigoon. Gegaa go ezhi-gichi-mawid, waawiizhwiin apii eni-baakindenang. Pane go aapiji mooshkinewa waa-nanaadawi’iwenid. Ishkwaandeng ezhi-wonabid. Geget owaabandaan i’iw gashkikibidenig, mii dash iwidi endanwewidaminid iiniw ogimaan mamaadwenid. Zhigwa sa maajitaawa nenaadawi’iwenid. Mii sa iw ezhi-baazhijidakokiiwaad iwidi endanwewidaminid iiniw mwaakonenid. Aaniish baataniinoowa. Zhigwa sa besho naagwadini gaye wiin i’iw ji-maajitaad, zhigwa gaye wiin wii-nanaandawi’iwe. Aatayaa, Nenabosho ezhi-maajitaad, omaajiwebinaan iiniw zhiishiigwanan, aapiji enigok nagamo: “Aki ekwaag nimbishinawishin, nimbishinawishin, saa. Aki ekwaag nimbishinawishin, nimbishinawishin, saa.” Ina’am. Zhayiigwa basigwii ezhi-izhaad ogimaamishibizhiin. Etawaa, apii eni-oonabiidawaad, wenjida go waazhebiinid i’iwe obikwak gii-saagaakosinini. Mii go iw bagidanaamonid, enaagoshkaanig. Weweni go odoodabinaan i’iw obikwak ezhi-shishigwenawaad. Aataa, Nenabosho ezhi-basigonjised, ezhi-kaakikiwebishkawaad iiniw omakakiiwayaanan, mii go imaa wenji-pabiishigonind. “E’e’ii! Mii sa iw bi-yaabijinanaad a’aw nenabosho iiniw gidoo-gimaaminaanin.” Mii go imaa eni-oonji-pakibinaad iiniw odoozhimiwayaanan. Etawaa, mii go iw baa-akobiinig bimooshkaaninig, aano-naajiba’iwed i’iw odaanosaagan. Etawaa, minjimigo zhigwa odaanopeshwendaan, zhayiigwa sa mii dash eta oshtigwaan eni-saagibatood. Zhayiigwa odebaabandaan, agaawa odooditaan; mii dash ezhi-poozid i’iw odaanosaagan, etawaa Nenabosho, shkwaji nekibiinig wajiwan. Aataa, gichi-gabeya’ii geyaabi gii-mooshkaanini. Ii, anishaa go gaawanaadagaanid i’iw awesiiya gaye igiw bebaamisenid. Aanindi go odaanaboozi’aa bebiiwishii’inid; iw idash wiin memaandidonid anishaa go zagigwegomoowa. Booch idash mii go iw gindaabiishkaminid i’iw ojiimaan. “Mii sa gaawiin wiikaa miinawaa akiikaang giigadayaasiimin,” inendamoog. Mii maawiin i’iw geget baataajigeyaan,” inendam. Oganoonaa awesiinya: “Etawaa mii sa iw gii-waniikeyaan i’iw aki. Ambegish bangii bi-ayaayaambaan i’iw aki! Ambe sa, gaawiin inaa awiya odaabiitoosiin i’iw aki? Giishpin zhashaagoowisiyeg mii iw gakina ji-niboyang. Minooj minik netaa-googiiyeg, nandawaabandamog i’iw aki. Gego wiin maamaawiinokegon, ayaakowaach* gii-ga-maajaam.” Mii dash a’aw maang nitam genoonid: “Daga. Giin, nitam nandawaabandan i’iw aki. Ayaangwaamizin wii-biidoon.” “Aaniish, miinooj sa” ikido a’aw maang. Etaa, a’aw maang noondaagozii: “Aa, wiiwiiwi!” Aataa, apankwaagiid. Etawaa, wiikaa go gii-yaabooshkaa’agonjisewan. Etawaa ashimaangwan wedaapinaad. Nenabosho gaa-odaapinaad, ezhi-babwedaanaad, mii sa neyaap gii-bimaadizinid. Ezhi-ganoonaad: “Aaniin, gaawiin inaa gigii-debaabandaziin i’iw aki?” Ezhi-kanoonigod Nenabosho: “Gaawiin ganage ningii-debaadandaziin, mii apii gaa-izhi-wanendamaan.” Aapiji zegizi Nenabosho. “Ambe sa, giin amik, daga giin. Baamaa go niboyan mii iw ji-aanazhiitam. Gego wiin megwaa bimaadiziyan bi-giiweken.” Aateyaa, mii sa gaye wiin akawe noondaagozid amik. Apan kwaagid a’aw amik. Etawaa! Babimakwashiwed a’aw amik, mii go iw zhigwa wanendang; aano-tebaabamaad i’iw mitigoo, mii sa gaa-izhi-wanendang. Mii sa Nenabosho, ayakawaabid. Etawaa! Ningoding igo gii-onjaaboshka’agonjisewan miinawaa odagwaashimaan iiniw amikwan ojiimaaning. “Etawaa, aazhi-maajii, mii sa gii-nisaabaawed nishiimisaa!” Mii sa miinawaa gaa-izhi-pabwedaanaad, mii sa neyaap gii-bimaadizinid. Ezhi-ganoonaad: “Aaniin gaa-zhiwebiziyan?” “Etawaa, mii go i’iw debaabamagwaa mitigoog, mii apii gaa-izhi-wanendamaan.” “Aaniish naa, mii sa geget niboyang. Indawaa mii iw gakina netaa-googiiyeg izhi-maamawiinoyok. Iw idash ge-izhichigeyeg, baamaa go niboyeg gii-ga-yaanizhiitaam.” Aateyaa, aaniish gakina minik netaa-googiiwaad ezhi-googiiwaad. Aaniish inendam nigig ji-biidood i’iw aki. Zhigwa akawe nawajimoowag, apan kwaagiinid, aateyaa, ji-ayanagoojininid. Minik bebimakwashiwewaad, aanind igo jibwaa-debaabandamowaad mii iw ezhi-wanendamowaad. Aanindi dash gaye aabitawaatig mitigong mii iw ezhi-wanendamowaad; mii sa gaawiin ganage bangii awiiya obiidoosiin i’iw aki. Anishaa eta go gaa-wanagonjininid minik aanogiigoogiinid. Ezhi-agwaabiiginaad, miinawaa ezhi-babwedaanaad, mii sa neyaab ezhi-bimaadizinid gakina. Mii dash i’iw ani-gagwejimaad: “Awenen gaa-beshwaabandang i’iw aki?” Nigig idash giigido: “Niin sa niindaano-gii-peshwaabandaan.” “Aaniin igo wepii?” “Gaawiin wiin aabitawaatig nawaj besho ningii-ozaabandaan i’iw aki.” “Daga, miinawaa nigig.” Mii sa geget ezhi-googiid babimakwashiwed; jibwaa-gwakwanaabaawed, mii iw zhigwa debaabandang i’iw aki minjimigo beshwaabandang ezhi-wanendang. Etawaa! Nenabosho onji-aabooshka’agonjisewan. “E, mii sa geget nibooyang.” Indawaa neyaap odoodaapinaan. Babwedaanaad ezhi-gagwejimaa: “Aaniin gaa-izhiwebiziyan?” “Mii sa onjida gaawiin nindaa-gashkitoosiin niin ji-biidooyaambaan.” Etawaa Nenabosho! Mii sa geget zegizid. Tiwe, ogiimikwenimaan iiniw wazhaskwan. “Daga, giin. Minooch, wazhashk, googiin.” “Aaniish, miinoch maanoo gaye niin ninga-nisaabaawe.” “Ahaaw, wazhashk, ayaangwaamizin.” Taa, wazhashk oozoow oodoompinaan; zhayiigwa, ‘kwajak!’(4) inwewegamishinoon. Aataa! Wazhashk babimakwashiwed, ningoding igo odebaabamaa mitigoo. Gaawiin aanawi aapiji akwanaabaawesii. Zhigwa aabitawaatig mitigong odooditaan; mii go zhigwa wa-nendang dagwishing iwidi akiing. Ezhi-kanagandang i’iw aki, gaye aanind oninjiing oganikibidoon. Mii imaa ojijaakaang* ezhi-jaangaagoshkaanig i’iw ozoow gaye wiinagatig. Megwaa go Nenabosho akawaabamaad, etiwe ningoding igo onji-aaboshka’agonjisewan wenjidoogo gaa-pikwaakwadagonjininidigo. Miinooch oodoodaapinen Nenabosho. Anishaa doodang, obaakaakininjiibinaan. Etawaa! Aki ogii-gashkaakoninjaandamini. Miinawaa aazhawininj mii naasaab aki odonjimikamawaan. Imaa ojijaakayaaning odizhi-andawaabandamawaan, geyaabi aki omikwonamawaan; gaye iwidi binjigonew nawaj niibiwa odoonjimikamawaan. Mii sa ezhi-babwedaanaad mii iw miinawaa gaa-zhi-bimaadizinid. Ezhi-baasang i’iw aki, “Mii sa i’iw gegaa ji-gii-zhitooyaan i’iw aki.” Nenabosho ezhi-boodaadang, goniginiin! Minisens gii-agwandeni. Mii go aazha wii-bimi’agwaadaanid i’iw manidoowenzha, ezhi-ganoowaad: “Bekaa, baamaa nawaj michaag agwaadaakeg.” Miinawaa ezhi-poodaadang, gichi-minis gii-agwandeni. Mii dash imaa gichi-baataniinadining gaa-izhi-boodaadang, mii sa zhigwa bimaadiziiwagenimonid i’iw manitoowenzha. Miinawaa maajitaa babwedaadang i’iw aki. Ezhi-ganoonaad iiniw gezhiisenid gekekwan: “Daga, giiwitaasen o’ow aki amanj enigokwaagwen o’ow aki.” Geget ezhi-maajaad gekek. Gomaa go gii-apiidendi, zhigwa dagwishinoon ezhi-ganoonigod. “Gaawiin aapiji midaasinoon (michaasinoon*).” Miinawaa ezhi-boodaadang, gabeya’ii dazhitaa babwedaadang. Miinawaa oganoonaan iiniw gaagaakiwan: “Daga, giin gaagaagi, wiikikendan amanj enigokwaagwen i’iw aki.” Geget ezhi-maajaad a’aw gaagaagi. Amanj iidog daso giizis enendid gaagaagi; wiikaa dagwishin. Zhigwa dibaajimo: “Gaawiin ningii-mikaziin amanj enigokwaagwen o’ow aki, mii go iw gaa-izhi-noonde-kiiweyaan.” Nenabosho dash ezhi-ganoonaat iiniw gaagaagiwan: “Ambe sa ji-bishigenimoyan gii-ga’izhi’in. Aaniin i’iw ge-izhi-pishigenimoyan?” “Nenabosho, i’iwe gii-mizhakwak gaa-izhinaagwak giiyoozhaawashkwaag, mii iw ambegish izhi’iyan.” Mii sa geget Nenabosho gii-oozhaawashkonaad. Gaagaagi dash gaa-izhinaagozid mii iw iiniw Nenaboshoowan. |
Thereupon back to its former depth did the water recede.
When the water got to where it was before, he accordingly then with care selected a place where he would have his lodge. And so from there he intended yet to seek (for his nephew). And so while wandering about weeping, he once heard somebody going along singing: “From the ends of the earth do I come with the sound of my rattles, saa (X2)” Such was the way he heard some one sing while going along. What should he do but go towards the sound of the being. When he came in sight of the being, lo, (he saw that) it was a toad(2) leaping along from place to place. Some bast she bore upon her back, and some rattles she carried bound to her heels. Now, a good deal was the bast she carried on her back when he rushed up to her. On coming up to her, why, she was a very old woman. “O my grandmother! For what reason are you singing?” “Oh, a snare is really to be laid for Nenabosho. And this bast which I carry upon my back is the thing to be used for the purpose. It was Nenabosho who really shot the chief of the big lynxes.” “O my grandmother! Pray, why is a snare to be set for Nenabosho?” “Oh, well! It is for the arrow of Nenabosho, which is now sticking out of (the chief of the big lynxes). From this town yonder do I come. And over there hardly alive is the chief of the big lynxes.” “O my grandmother! Pray, what was that you were singing about?” “Oh, why, we are ministering to the chief; and this is what I sing when I am attending him: “From the ends of the earth do I come with the sound of my rattles” It is so much pleasure I impart when I sing. The song is fine.” “O my grandmother! At what place do you sit?” “In the very middle of the doorway is where I always sit. Now, this is what they have done: a partition divides the space in two equal parts; and so over on the other side lies the chief of ours.” “And where is it you dwell?” “Why, yonder at the edge of the forest do I dwell. And very small is that little wigwam of mine. And there are two of my grandchildren, and very tiny are the boys; now, they are the only ones with whom I live.” “O my grandmother! How was it that (the chief) angered Nenabosho?” “Why, he actually took his nephew away from him. Very fond was Nenabosho of his nephew. It was on that account (the chief) angered him, which was why he was shot (by Nenabosho).” “Now, pray why should he be so treated by the chief of the big lynxes as to be deprived of his nephew by him? By no means a small manitou is he who goes by the name of Nenabosho.” “She lifted her head and looked up at him: “Ah, me! Perhaps you are Nenabozho!” “Nonsense! Not so long as this would you be held in conversation if it were Nenabosho. Long ago would you have been clubbed to death if I were Nenabosho. O my grandmother! Do start that song of yours once more! Not exactly yet do I know that song of yours.” so once more: “From the ends of the earth do I come with the sound of my rattles, saa.” What did Nenabosho do but club her to death. “Well, what a fool this wretched old woman (was)!” Ah, Nenabosho then set to work flaying her, from every part he removed the skin. After he had finished flaying her, very small then Nenabosho made himself. What should he do but get into the toad-skin to wear it, in every respect did he fit into it. Slightly here on the hip he tore it. After he had got into it, then he bound the rattles to his heels, and put the bast upon his back. Ah! As Nenabosho went leaping along, he then began to sing: “From the ends of the earth do I come with the sound of rattles, saa.” And very loud was the sound of his voice as he went singing. In a while was he come in sight of the town. When he was come at the edge of the forest, sure enough, he saw a small wigwam. “This must be what she spoke of,” he thought. Farther on was a view of the wigwams. Now ever so loud he sang as he went; he was heard as he went singing along. One then spoke up: “Yea, now once again comes the sound of our dear grandmother singing. Therefore now again should you invite her to the gathering to smoke.” Then presently, as he was about to arrive at the little wigwam, but before he got there, out came the boys. “O my grandmother! Have you come home?” “Yes, my grandchildren, I am come home.” When in she entered, then on her lap sat her grandchildren. What should happen to him(3) but to be seen by one of his grandchildren at the place where he had torn open the toad-skin. “O my grandmother! Why do you look that way there? Like the skin of a human being is the way you look there.” “Oh I wore it through while at work on the bast (to be used for a snare) that is to be laid for Nenabosho.” As loud as she could she sang. Thereupon truly was she invited to the assembly to smoke, accordingly then she went. Presently our grandmother was approaching nigh to the wigwam. Oh, in the doorway what should he behold but the skin of his nephew then being used for a flap over the entry-way. And there still were left upon it some of the teeth (of his nephew). Sorrowful Nenabosho! Then did tears pour from his eyes. And almost did he weep aloud, especially when he opened the flap on his way in. Throughout every part was the space crowded with them who were to heal. By the doorway he sat down. Sure enough, he saw that there was a partition, and it was over beyond he could hear the sound of the chief as he groaned in pain. Already began they who were to do the healing. Thereupon (the throng) stepped over to the place where they heard the sound of him who was suffering. Of course they were many. Now the time drew nigh for him also to begin, now he too was about to begin healing. Well, when Nenabosho began, he began wielding the rattles with a swing, very loud he sang: “From the ends of the earth do I come with the sound of my rattles, saa.” (Thus) he sang. Presently up he rose to his feet when he went over to the chief of the big lynxes. Ah, when he went over to sit beside him, square in his side was the arrow sticking out. Accordingly, when he breathed, then to and fro moved the arrow. Now with care (Nenabosho) seized the arrow, which he worked back and forth into him. Ah! When Nenabosho sprang to his feet, he thus tore up that toad-skin of his, whereupon they tried in vain to catch him there. “Alas! It was to kill this chief of ours that Nenabosho came.” And then from its place he tore off his nephew’s skin as he went. Oh, thereupon, as the flood came, as the water rose, then he fled, seeking to find his raft. Oh, at the very moment when he felt he was getting near to it, then already was he going along with only his head out of the water. Presently he came in sight of it, barely did he get to it; and when he got aboard his raft, poor Nenabosho (saw that) now under water were the mountains. Why, for a great while did the water rise. Well, to swim aimlessly about was all that the animal-folk and the beings of the air could do. Now, some that were tiny he tried to put aboard; and those that were big hung to (the raft) by their chins. Yet, for all that, his float was weighed down with its burden. “Therefore never again shall we be upon land,” they thought. “Perhaps it is true that I have done a wrong (which may never be repaired), he thought. He spoke to the animal-kind, saying: “Pity it is that I forgot (to fetch along) some earth. Would that I might have brought a little! Now, is there no one able to fetch some earth? If you continue passive, then shall we all die. Even so, do you, as many as are good at diving, go seek for some earth. Do not all go together, one after the other shall you go.” Accordingly the loon was the first to be addressed: “I say, you, do you first go seek for some earth. Take care that you fetch it.” “Well, I will try,” said the loon. Lo, a cry the loon was heard to give: “Aah, wiiwiiwi!” Oh, then down he dived into the water. Why, it was a long time before he came back up to the surface of the water. It was a poor dead loon (Nenabosho) then picked up. After Nenabosho had picked him up, he then breathed upon him, wherat back to life he came. Then (Nenabosho) spoke to him saying: “How now? Did you not come in sight of the earth?” Then was Nenabosho told: “Not even did I come in sight of it, for when (on the way down) did I become insensible.” Very much afraid became Nenabosho. “Now, you beaver, do you (go). Not till you are dead shall you give up. Do not return as long as you are alive.” Lo, therefore the beaver too, before (he went), was heard giving forth a cry. Then down dived the beaver. Alas! As down through the water the beaver was going, then was when he became unconscious; (it was when) he tried in vain to get sight of the trees that he lost his wits. And now Nenabosho was keeping watch. Alas! By and by up to the surface he came, and he drew the beaver up into his canoe. “Ah, what a pity, now that drowned is my little brother!” And so again, when he had breathed upon him, then accordingly, as before (the beaver) came back to life. Then he spoke to him saying: “How did you fare?” “Why, just as I was coming into view ofthe trees did I become insensible.” Well, then, it is certain that now we shall die. Therefore then do all you that are good at diving go hence together. And this is what you shall do, not till you are dead shall you give up.” Behold, naturally, all that were good at diving then dived into the water. Now the otter thought that he would fetch the earth. So before starting they (all) whooped, then down they dived, (being gone), oh, till they (were drowned and) came floating to the surface. Of as many as went into the water, some became unconscious before they got sight of the earth. And now some were halfway down the trees when they then lost their wits; whereupon not even a small bit of earth did any one fetch. Yea, of a truth, afloat on the water were all those who had tried to dive. When he drew them out of the water, again he breathed upon them, whereupon back to life they all came. And then he asked of them, one after another: “Who was it that got a near view of the earth?” And the otter spoke up: “I myself tried to get within easy view of it, but without success.” “And how close?” “Why I was more than halfway down the trees when I saw the earth.” “I say, once more otter.” Whereupon truly down he dived, down into the water he went; and before he was out of breath, then he came in sight of the earth, and the moment that he got within easy reach of it, then he became insensible. Alas! Nenabosho (saw) him come floating on the water. “Oh, therefore certainly now shall we die!” Consequently, just as before, he took (the otter) up. Breathing upon him, he then asked of him: “How did you fare?” “Why it seemed fated for me not to be able to fetch home (some earth).” Poor Nenabosho! Thereupon truly was he scared. Behold, he remembered the muskrat. “Now you, despite our failure, muskrat, do you dive into the water.” “Well, anyhow, I will try but I too shall drown.” “Good, muskrat, do all you can.” Ay! The muskrat lifted his tail; then “kwajak!” was the sound he made as he dived into the water. Ah! As the muskrat was on his way through the water, he by and by came in sight of the trees. Not so very much out of breath was he for all that. In a while halfway down the trees was he come; and when he got to the earth, he then became insensible. When he took some earth in his mouth, he also took up some in his paws. Then there between his groins he flung his tail and his stiffened penis. Now while Nenabosho was watching for him, by and by (he saw) the poor creature floating on the water (looking) quite (like) a ball that was carried on the flood. Even so Nenabosho reached down and picked him up. Doing it in play, he opened out (the muskrat’s) paws. Why, (the muskrat) was holding fast to some earth in his clinched paw. Likewise in the other paw, in just the same way, he found him with some earth. There in his groins he sought to find him with it, even more earth he found upon him, and there in his throat too he found him with much more. And so when he breathed upon him, he then came back to life. When he had dried the earth (he found on the muskrat), “therefore now am I about to create the earth.” When Nenabosho blew his breath upon it, behold! A small island floated on the water. Accordingly afterwards the small animal-folk were eager to go out upon it, when he then spoke to them saying: “Wait! Not till it is larger may you go out upon it.” When again he blew his breath upon it, a great island was floating on the water. And so upon the place where he had blown his breath there was much earth, whereupon then began the little animal-kind to feel themselves secure. Once more he began breathing upon the earth. Then he spoke to the swift-flying bird-hawk, saying: “Now fly you round about this earth and see how large this earth is.” Sure enough, away went the bird-hawk. For some time was he gone, in a while he came home. “Not so very large is (the earth).” When again (Nenabosho) breathed upon it, for a long while was he busy breathing upon it. Next he spoke to the raven, saying: “Now, you, raven, do you find out how big this earth is.” Truly then away started the raven. It is not known for certain how many moons the raven was gone; after a long time he returned. Then he told, saying: “I have not learned how large this earth is, so therefore I came back before I could find out.” So Nenabosho then spoke to the raven, saying: “Come, so that you may be proud of yourself will I make you. In what manner, then, do you wish to feel pride in yourself?” “Nenabosho, as it looks on a clear day when the sky is blue, so I would have you make me.” Thereupon truly Nenabosho colored him blue. Now such is the look of the raven, he was made so by Nenabosho. |