chequamegon little bear

The White Dog of the Ojibwa

As far as Many People could see the land lay dry and brown. Sitting on the rock ledge on the side of the mountain that rose up into the sky from the real people's land, Many People felt as empty as the fields before him. The fields that the women cultivated were only dotted with green growing plants. Corn curled up brittle-yellow. Squash were the size of stones in the river that had almost ceased to flow. Tiny strings of blue were all that was left of the many streams that had once been full of hidden fish. Many People remembered the sounds of the water pouring over stones and eddying, floating leaves of the earth's colors. Now, the earth was colored brown. Empty, hollow brown.
Once winters ago the real people had been one nation. The real people could travel for days and never leave the land of the people. Villages sent the wisest of the real people to a council that spoke for all the people. There were villages far north in the country that had copper and made ornaments. There were villages in the west that had slick, black stone that made the best spear heads. There were villages in the east that made skillful designs of porcupine qills woven into the soft deerhide. And Many People's village grew the plant smoked in the pipe of peace. That was many winters ago. So long ago almost forgotten if not for the sacred skins containing the painted history of the nation rolled up in Many People's lodge. The time of one-nation long forgotten in the disputes that drove the nation into tribes and war with each other.

Many People felt the sun, strong and endless. Like our people, thought Many People. He looked at the land with its river and trees and lakes and thought, like my people: weavers, spear-makers and metal-makers. We are all together part of one thing. None of us is made to be alone and separate, we all belong together. Many People sent his thoughts strong and hard to the sky spirit who could bring green summer back to the earth. The tribes had warred for many changes of the season, so many that it seems like they had forgotten the peace of being one. Many People felt himself grow long, long into the past of the great one-nation. He saw a speaker whose words wove into the tribes as a bone needle pulls tanned hide into moccasins. How the smoke swirled around the man and carried his words far and wide to bring the tribes peace. How the smoke changed shape and then was gone.

Many People looked to the skies that burned blue. Hot breath from an angry sky spirit tongued the land. No clouds floated over Many People's land. The chief had come to the mountain to seek the sky spirit's return. His bowed back had been bared to the harsh sun for 2 days. Strong words flowed from his rock-still body, so still it may have been part of the mountain of stone he sat on. Words asking the sky spirit of a return of the game who no longer filled the forest trees. Many People felt his words pass into the still air. Many People, alone on the mountain side, raised his head and opened his eyes. In the far distance a small speck marked the clear sky.

From far away, the small speck grew into the image of a hawk, coming in close to the mountain where Many People sat on the ledge. The hawk rose up in a thermal close to Many People, circling high overhead. Many People's eyes followed the hawk's path, spiraling upward until it seemed that the sky was white instead of blue. The hawk pulled its wings to its side and dove suddenly. Many People could see it would come close to where he sat. He thought the hawk had a prey spotted and was surprised to see it let out its wings and turn gently back upward. Upward to what Many People could now see was definately a white spot in the very blue sky. This is the sign! thought Many People. The sky spirit has heard the cries of the real people. He has sent his sky children to bring an end to the barren season.
The hawk flew past the white small cloud, disappearing into the distant far sky. Many People's heart grew stong with the sign from the sky spirit. He felt full of words that his people would hear. His vision of the teller of together-words had given him strength to make the tribes one. Thanking the sky spirit, Many People left the mountain and called his people togerher with his new voice.

His words were carried to the farthest tribes, calling all the chiefs to Many People's mountain over which the small white cloud sat. All wanted to see Many People's spirit child and knew his words would have great meaning. The tribes camped below the mountain, filling the plain. Not many people remembered that each tribe had once known each other.

Above, in a mountain side valley, the chiefs listened to Many People as he told of how the black, slick stone and the copper discs and the designs of the porcupine quills were as one. That the lakes and rivers and trees and animals were all one on the land and that the land would not be complete without all of these things. That the tribes apart were as the land without her animals or without the flowing water or the towering green trees. Many People said that these things were known. But that they had been forgotten. And now the sky spirit had sent a sign that all would see the wisdom of being one.

Many People lifted his arms and the smoke from the fire swirled, up and up, rising to the white cloud that grew larger. Above the council, the sky was no longer blue but white. And from the swirling smoke, stepped a large white animal. Not a deer, or forest animal but a dog, a companion of the tribes. The white dog stepped slowly around the fire ring as Many People's voice told of how even the lowliest animal was part of the nation. How even the most unimportant was essential to being one. Even one with no voice was part of the real people's life. Many People's voice was strong even though he could not be seen in the smoke. He told his people he would always be with them, to show them his words were for ever. At this, the white dog rose up on his hind feet and spoke to the chiefs. Our land will be as it was, my people. I will come whenever you need to remember that one nation is complete with all. That words of peace will always be found.

These words stayed behind as the white dog lept up into the heart of the smoke and disappeared. Overhead the white cloud billowed out and filled with rain. The chiefs elected speakers for the nation that would meet at the Mountain Where The Dog Ran Into The Sky. The tribes returned to their lands and that winter children asked over and over for the story of Many People's spirit child. And to this day, long after the that time, the real people are favored when a white dog is part of the tribe.

The rivers grew full, the deer grew fat as the nation listened to the words Many People had given. War was set aside and many speakers became fluent in the words of peace. As war had too often been a thing of the past, now peace took its place. From one end of the nation to the other could be heard the words of Many People and remembered was the promise to return when the nation forgot its children.

[10/3/2002 12:52:58 PM | kathleen sisco]
What a beautiful day! What a gorgeous day! What a absolutely, terriffic, day! Little Bear was soooo comfy. He streached out his furry arms with the long, white claws at the tips. He yawned. He snuggled deeper into the soft green moss. He turned his head to shade his eyes from the hot afternoon sun. Even in the fall the sun was hot on Little Bear's golden fur. The tree trunk he lay against was old. Very old. The tree rose up to the sky, higher than all the other trees around it. Little Bear thought of it as the Momma tree. Just thinking that gave him a good feeling in his heart. You know how you get when all the world is a safe place and your tummy is full and Mom loves you? Well, that's how Little Bear felt. Happy. Warm. Safe. Without a care n the world napping under the Momma tree.

Little Bear opened his eyes. He couldn't see the sky. Where did it go? He twiched his ears and now there was sky! And looking up he saw another leaf, just like the one that covered his eyes just the moment before, come floating down for the Momma tree. And another one. Just more and more leaves. It was raining leaves. Little Bear sat up. Up high in the Momma tree was branch wagging to and fro. And losing more leaves all the time.

Hello! said Little Bear. Hello! Now Little Bear is nothing if not persistant. You have to be to make as many friends as Little Bear. When nobody answered him, Little Bear's curiosity got the better of him and he decided to climb the Momma tree to see what was making the rain of leaves. The bark on Momma tree was deeply cleft and easy to climb. Little Bear reached a large branch and called Hello again. He could see the leaf commotion better and it looked like there was something up there. something grey. Hello there said Little Bear. And a little grey face poked out to say hello and disappeared.

What a beautiful day said Little Bear. More leaves fell down. You look busy up there said Little Bear. The grey face appeared again and this time had a tail that flicked back and forth. Busy, busy, busy , can't stop, I'm Sal, and I've just got to get this done before winter. Little Bear loved making friends almost as much as eating and right now he was comfy full. That looks great Little Bear said. What is it? At this the little grey squirrel stopped and said Little Bear, this is my winter home. I make several and if I don't get them done I will be cold this winter. Not all of us have a thick fur blanket and lots of fat to keep us warm. Some of us have to work very hard to stay warm in the winter. I don't get to snooze the cold winter away like you do. Now I've got to get back to work and with that Sal cut more leaves and dashed to the large bunch of leaves wedged into a forked branch. And almost immediately out again.

I would be glad to have you stay with me in the winter said Little Bear who loved everybody, even sassy squirrels. Sometimes I use leaves to make a comfy spot, too. One time I -Little Bear was talking and not looking and didn't even have a clue that the thing falling down on him wasn't just another leaf, it was Sal! Now bears are well padded and squirrels are not much at all so Little Bear was only surprisedand not hurt to find Sal plopped on top of his head like a hat! But it sure didn't improve Sal's mood at all and Little Bear was careful not to laugh and hurt his feelings. Falling out of a tree is very embarassing for a squirrel and Little Bear never tried to hurt anybody's feelings. Oh well, Hello again said Little Bear. Now I guess you have time to take a break don't you? And Sal thought that that would be a good idea to rest a bit.

Little Bear told Sal about how he and Momma Bear snuggle tight in the winter while the snow turned everything outside of the cave white. How they sleep long and deep. How the spring wakes them up with fresh green breezes. Sal had begun to munch on an acorn. I don't sleep at all Sal said. I worry about how many acorns I have. Will the winter winds shake my home apart. What will happen if I can't find my acorns under the deep snow. Will I have enough time to finish my homes and with that he began to go up the Momma tree again. Got to get busy, lots of work, not time, goodby Little Bear. And Little Bear, always wanting to be of help said that he would dig a hole for the acorns, would that help? Well, no Little Bear, your hole would be too deep for me to use. I bury lots of acorns here and there, it just takes so much time, have to go. Well, Little Bear said to Sal already far up the Momma tree, I will try to find you some help. Sal had already disappeared.

He thought and thought. Nothing came to mind but he did think he was hungry. Bears are always hungry. He remembered his favorite honey tree wasn't far away. A hickory with a large hole in its side. Lots of honey and just waiting for Little Bear. But of course, the bees were waiting also. But bees don't hurt much when your coat is as furry and as thick as Little Bears. He reached his paw into the hive hole and took out a yummy honey comb. His tounge lapped up the sweet honey. Bees buzzzed and Little Bear licked. And thought. How can I help Sal. I don't make nests in trees. My holes would be too big to use. And then an idea came to him. His holes in the ground would be too big but what about a hole in the tree? A nice deep hole that Sal could use if the wind shook his nest apart and if the cold got too severe. Little Bear thought that was a idea that would work!!

He walked back to the Momma tree and looked up. The Momma tree was very old and old trees had dead branches and spots where insects had eaten into the bark and made the tree wood soft. Sometimes there were holes where woodpeckers had used their bills to peck into the wood. Little Bear knew that he would find just the right spot to make a safe spot for Sal, all he had to do was to look. He went up the the first big branch, looking, looking and then the second. He looked and he sniffed. Bears find insects under the wood by smelling. Insects make the wood soft. On the third big branch he found just what he wanted. A large wood pecker hole had been hammered into an area of soft wood. Just the right thing! Little Bear used his long claws to dig at the hole; it got bigger. He could even put his paw into the tree cavity. Now it was just the right size for Sal. Little Bear was thinking he would call out and let Sal know when Plop! here was Sal again atop his head! My Goodness said Little Bear. Sorry said Sal. I'm so tired I --and stopped without saying another word. He saw the hole. A perfect squirrel-sized hole. Just the perfect home for winter.

Little Bear smiled. That looked really funny with honey smeared all over his face. A couple of leaves had stuck in the honey and Little Bear looked like he was wearing a holloween mask. Sal looked at Little Bear, Little Bear looked at Sal. Sal jumped off Little Bear's head into the hole and poked his grey face out and said Little Bear Thank You so much. You are such a wonderful bear. I never dreamed of anything so nice. You are the best bear ever!

Little Bear took his time going home through the woods to his and Momma Bear's cave. The fall sun slid between the branches, golding the tree trunks. He had had a wonderful day because he had made a new friend and helped. Momma Bear opened her mouth and smiled with her big teeth and said Little Bear you look like you are going trick or treating and do you know what Little Bear said? I did Momma, I went treating.

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