Living Our Language_ Ojibwe Tales & Oral Histories - Anton Treuer [80]
When I Was Little
[1] My name is Emma Fisher. When I was born, I grew up there at Boy River. I was born inside an Indian lodge, the round dome-shaped kind. My mother died [shortly] after I was born. And from that time on I was raised by my grandmother and my grandfather. But I called them mother and father in Indian. When I got bigger, we moved there to Boy Lake, where our relatives were [living]. Now there’s a cemetery there where we used to live.
[2] Debaasige was an old man at the time of my birth. And he was a name giver. That old man named me. When I was a baby, we had a pipe ceremony for me to get my Indian names. I was named three times. It is very important for the Indian to be named so he can be strong in his life.
My Dogs
[1] My childhood was beautiful. Whenever I saw dogs as I played there in the woods, I carried them away, bringing them there to my house. And I always had about ten dogs when I was living there in the forest. They looked after me when I went around playing, as they scared the wild animals off, pestering them.
[2] We lived there in the woods, near Boy Lake, where a lot of the Indians lived. Sometimes we went there to visit, when I wanted to play where the other kids were. Then I would go outside to go walking there in the forest with my dogs. We killed woodchucks so my dogs could eat them. It was so much fun. They chased deer around there and I climbed trees.
[3] My grandmother had clothes for me to put on when I played outside. Then I was usually happy to go barefoot. I always walked along the shore, diving into the lake there or maybe there in the river. And my dogs would go swimming too. I gave all my dogs Indian names. Some had English names, but they sounded like Indian, like Jaanish, that was John in English. One was named Mazina’ige.
[4] Oh, all their names were crazy, some in English and some in Indian.
[5] I remember when I was little, thinking about what I did back then. I always went in the forest to play with my dogs. I always told them what we tell Indian dogs—“attack!” And they fought too.
[6] One time my uncle saw me there in the forest. And [I] was up there in a tree.
[7] My dogs were there on the ground, but I was up in the tree. My uncle stopped there where I was playing as he walked along there in the forest. He had a mustache, [you know] how some Indians [had]. Then he would get a hold of me, and give me a whisker rub on my face, and that hurt. I used to scratch him, fighting him. Then he said, “I’m going to marry you when you grow up. I’m going to divorce my wife.” I believed him. I cried, fighting him too, pulling his hair and scratching him.
[8] One day my uncle got ahold of me when I was up in that tree, saying, “I’m going to climb up there to keep you company, to sit with you. I’m going to marry you myself in that tree.” “No way,” I said. Then he asks me, “Why?” “Attack!” I told my dogs.
[9] Then he says, “Yeah, I’m not scared to fight your dogs.” I ordered my dogs to start surrounding him at the tree. All my dogs were ready to attack him. My uncle couldn’t escape; my dogs were everywhere. But they wouldn’t attack until I ordered them [to do so].
[10] Every time he moved, they growled, showing him their teeth. Then one got ahold of his pants. Then he screams, “Tayaa! They are really biting me.” “Those dogs really do watch over her wherever she’s at,” he later told our relatives.
[11] My uncle needed help. Then my grandfather showed himself, coming