Living Our Language_ Ojibwe Tales & Oral Histories - Anton Treuer [76]
[6] Soon thereafter the Indian says to him, “Hey,” he tells him, “The white man keeps everything,” he says to him.
Why Nenabozho Is So Smart
[1] This one time as that guy called Nenabozho was walking along the shore, he saw a fellow Indian walking towards him. Then he was approached by that Indian. “Nenabozho,” the Indian says, “I want to ask you something.” “All right,” Nenabozho replies to him. “Why are you so smart,” he was asked by that Indian, his fellow Indian.
[2] “All right.” Nenabozho was thinking of what he wanted to tell that Indian, his fellow Indian. “As for me, my friend, I always eat smart berries.” “Oh, please show me where you get these smart berries. I would like to be intelligent myself.” “Okay,” Nenabozho told him, “You come with me. I’ll show you where I get these smart berries.”
[3] Then they went off there in the bush. While they were walking along, Nenabozho finds this rabbit trail. “I get the smart berries right there,” Nenabozho says there as he gives away the smart berries, giving one to his fellow Indian—the one who was going to be taught a lesson. “Put one in your mouth,” says Nenabozho. “Okay.” His fellow Indian put one his mouth. “Ishte,” says his fellow Indian, “These aren’t smart berries. These are damned rabbit turds.” “Yes. Yes,” says Nenabozho, “Then you’re getting smart yourself.”
Bebaamosed and Gawigoshko’iweshiinh
[1] That Nenabozho walked all over when he was here, always walking around. Then as he was walking around, he found these birds that had been left by their mother here. So he asks them, “What are your names,” that Nenabozho asked them. Then, he was understood by them in his being [there]. But he wasn’t answered by those birds. “I’m not going to leave you alone. What are your names?” Then those birds told him, “We are called Bine.” “Oh. Look, I have two names myself. For the first one, I am called Nenabozho. And I am also called Bebaamosed.” “Oh.” They didn’t answer Nenabozho. “Tell me what you are called. Everyone has two names,” Nenabozho told them. Then those partridges said, “We are also called Gawigoshko’iweshiinh.”*
[2] “Sate! Not you. I’ve been hanging around with you too long,” said that Nenabozho. Those birds were frightened as he crapped all over them. Then that Bebaamosed took off.
[3] In the meantime, that hen flew up and perched there. “Wish,” she says, “Who did this to you, crapping all over you?” “ Nenabozho,” her kids said. “Wha. Just look at what I am going to do to him. Why did he do this?” “We were asked what our names were. Then, we told him, we told him what our names are—Bine and Gawigoshko’iweshiinh.” “Oh.” “Then he crapped all over us here.” “All right. I am going there. Which way did Nenabozho go there?” “That way there, he went towards the west.” “Oh.” Then that hen cleaned up her children.
[4] While she was cleaning them, Bebaamosed—the one called Nenabozho—while he was walking he saw an old man sitting there. And his daughter was sitting with him there. “Why are you sitting,” Nenabozho asked them. Then he glanced at the cliff there, looking a long way there [to the bottom]. Then that old man told Nenabozho, “Whoever shall be able to jump, he’s the one who will marry my daughter here.” He sees the daughter. “That’s what I shall do,” Nenabozho thought as he told that old man, “I shall marry your daughter myself. I am going to jump over this here precipice.”
[5] Then he walked back, standing for a little while there, looking at the cliff there, he ran really hard there. He came to an abrupt stop right at the edge. He almost fell over there. Wa hiyaa, he looked at [the old man’s] daughter again. “I am going to marry her myself.” Afterwards as he walked [away from the edge] reflecting on what he would do, he sprinted there again. And he came to a stop right at the edge too. He almost fell there. “Hiyaa,” says Nenabozho, “I’m going to marry your daughter myself,” he told that old man as he ran back. He was really thinking