CHAPTER IV.
LANGUAGES OF THE NORTH AMERICAN INDIANS
Of a subject so imperfectly understood as that now before us, little can be said, without some risk of falling into error. It is probable that the threefold division, long since made by Mr. Heckewelder, of the Indian languages, spoken within the territory of the United States, may be well founded; and every advance of discovery has but confirmed the views respecting the character of these languages, which were long since elicited and announced in the correspondence between Heckewelder and Mr. Duponceau. We may speak with confidence in relation to all the dialects of the Algonkin, or Lenni Lennape, by which we mean all those having a manifest resemblance to the Delaware, or the Ojibbeway, not only in all the principal peculiarities of structure and idiom, but also in the sound of words. But whenever assertions, founded on an acquaintance with the languages of this family, are, without careful examination, extended to other branches of the American race, they should doubtless be received with caution. It may very probably be true, that the American languages, from one extremity of the continent to the other, have the family resemblance which is so manifest in the physical peculiarities of the race; but this should neither be assumed nor admitted until it has been proved.
That etymology has been of some use in historical inquiries, no one will doubt; but the evidence it affords is commonly fallacious, and where it elucidates one fact, it obscures a thousand. We know, says Sir William Jones, a posteriori, that fitz and hijo, by the nature of two several dialects, are derived from jilius; that uncle comes from avus, and stranger from extra; that jour is deducible, through the Italian, from dies, and rossignol from luscinia, or the singer in groves: that sciuro ecureuil, and squirrel, are compounded of two Greek words, descriptive of the animal; which etymologies, though they could not have been demonstrated a priori, might serve to confirm, if any such confirmation were necessary, the proofs of a connection between the members of one great empire.
Philogists, on the ground solely of etymology, or rather of similarity and dissimilarity of sound, assign to the limited territory of the United States, many different languages; and if they are content to assign these different languages, as they are pleased to call them, a common origin, and that at no very remote period, it is a matter of indifference how many stocks they enumerate. But if they would claim for each stock a different origin, the sober inquirer will certainly receive their opinions with caution.
It has been stated, that the languages of North America are not only etymologically different from those of Europe and Asia, but that their grammatical forms are also essentially unlike. Either to support or to controvert this assertion, would require a more extensive acquaintance both with American and European languages, than it falls to the lot of many to possess. We may remark, however, that the synthetic, or agglutinated structure, is met with in many other languages. Riggajuhsamat’haroa, according to Goverdhan Caul, is a compound word in the Sanscrit, made up of rich, yajush, saman; and at’harvan, gauripituriswaren-draciranaihpushyat-sitimnogireh, is a word in the same language, which may challenge comparison with any of the long and unutterable compounds in the Indian tongues; and at page 361, Vol. I. of the Asiatic Researches, we have the translation of a word which reaches one hundred and fifty-two syllables. Some of the compound words in the Greek and Latin, as well as in the English, seem to be formed in a manner precisely analogous to corresponding words in the American dialects. Resemblances and disagreements of this kind, as well as those purely etymological, doubtless may be traced between all languages. Awight, the Saxon word equivalent to aliquid, has certainly an etymological resemblance to ahwao, the same word in the Menomonie dialect; but it will not be inferred from this, or many similar instances, that the Menomonies are of Saxon origin. When we read the conjectures of the most learned and sagacious etymologists, that not only qualis and talis; but πηλιος, and τηλιος, have been supposed to come from the Moeso-Gothic leiks, and immediately from guhdeiks and thalik, whence came also the Anglo-Saxon thylic, lic, like. We shall scarce wish to base upon such a foundation our opinions concerning the early history, or the subsequent migrations of nations. It is admitted that many of the American languages are similar in construction and general outline, and when we see how wide and devious have been the wanderings of the roots, even in written languages, we shall cease to expect uniformity of sound, or similar etymology in the various members of a race exposed to numberless and diversified influences in the widely separated parts of our vast continent.
Of two great families of Asiatic languages, or dialects, one abounds in polysyllabic and compound words, and inflected verbs, like the more commonly known American tongues. This family includes the Persian, Sanscrit, and many others. The second, to use the language of the learned President of the Asiatic Society, abhors the composition of words, and also the inflection of verbs. To the latter class belong the Hebrew, the Arabic, and some others; and between these and our dialects strong resemblances have been pointed out, or may be easily discovered from the Hebrew, or some of its kindred idioms, from the Sanscrit, or from the Tartar stock, it is probable the American languages must originally have been derived. But when we have good reason to believe that a rude and wholly illiterate people, removed from a low and fertile, to a cold and mountainous country, will, in the course of a few centuries, entirely change their language, why should we hope to be able to trace the dialects of our Indians satisfactorily to their parent stock?
In a great measure, if not equally vague, must be all conjectures based on mythological opinions and traditionary customs. We believe that those who have been extensively acquainted with our Indians, and have witnessed the variety of forms and dresses in which the same tradition appears, when related in different dialects, will place little reliance on opinions concerning remote history, deduced from such traditions.
One species of relics, found westward of the Mississippi, and perhaps elsewhere, may be thought to afford more conclusive evidence than all derived from language and customs, that the race of Ham have, for immemorial ages, inhabited our country. I allude to those rocks bearing very distinct and deeply indented figures, resembling the impressions of human feet. That these are works of art, is unquestionable, and being found in mountainous and scarce accessible parts of the country, remote from any of the present seats of population, or routes of communication, they afford, by their aspect of undoubted antiquity, conclusive evidence, that in ages long since elapsed, regions now desolate were tenanted, and that a wandering and hunter-population, has succeeded to one whose habits of settled industry enabled them to leave such durable monuments. I am satisfied that a person, in any measure familiar with the valuable records of the Asiatic Society, cannot visit a locality of these ancient relics, without being reminded of a passage in the Puranes, where King Stravana is described “on the white mountains, meditating on the traces of the divine foot.” We are assured, by credible travellers, that this language is not understood figuratively, but that the people of the east boast of stones in their country, on which footsteps are discernible, which they assert are those of Vishnu. What is more probable, on the supposition that a branch of this race early found their way to America, than that crafty priests, or persons still possessing some of the arts of the east, should have engraved these figures from the same motives that have supplied similar memorials for the worshippers of Vishnu and Satyavrata?
But though we cannot reasonably hope to derive from the study of the American languages and dialects, any very important assistance to aid inquiries into the remote history and connections of the various tribes who speak them, yet there is one view in which these languages will always excite a degree of interest. In them we have an authentic record of a portion of the history of the human mind. To the inquirer of any age, or any nation, who would enlarge his acquaintance with the powers and properties, the capabilities and the propensities of the minds of men, this field can never be entirely uninviting. Human language, it is probable, must ever vary with the degree of refinement, the various revolutions in the manner of thinking, and the endless variations of external influence, to which, in progress of time, they must be exposed. It is well known to every one conversant with the subject of languages generally, that, viewed summarily and superficially, language presents a great, not to say an infinite number of families and dialects. But the Mosaic account of creation, as well as the conclusions of the more sane of the physiologists and natural historians, assure us that all mankind are descended from a single pair, who could consequently have spoken but one language. It is by many supposed that some of the existing dialects spoken as mother tongues at the present day, must have been in being in the ages immediately succeeding the general deluge. At the time of this great catastrophe, it may perhaps be safely supposed, that among the eight persons saved in the ark, but one dialect was commonly spoken, as we have the positive assurance of the inspired historian, that until some time after the deluge, all the earth was of one speech and of one language; according to the computation commonly received in Europe, it is not more than four thousand years since all men spoke a common language. The inquiry which naturally presents itself is, whether the existing ramifications can be satisfactorily traced through any common branches, or directly to their union with the primeval trunk. It may be difficult to clear up this question, as the investigation presupposes a more extensive acquaintance with ancient and modern languages, than falls to the share of many to possess. Yet if, upon careful examination, we find a part, or all the dialects of the American race agreeing, not in the sound of words, but in certain grammatical peculiarities, which have an intimate and inseparable connection with the structure and genius of the language, as some of the physical peculiarities of the race depend unalterably on temperament and peculiarity of structure, co-extensive with the race, we shall then be compelled to adopt one or the other of these conclusions, namely, that all these dialects, or languages, have been derived from the same stock; or, secondly, if, with Malte Brun and others, we admit a number of different emigrations from remote parts of the world, we must then conclude that not only language, but physical conformation, is modified, moulded, and revolutionized by the influence of situation and external causes. If we admit the latter conclusion, and believe that our American race are the descendants of people who came at different and remote periods, from Asia, from Africa, and from Europe, we may then dismiss the inquiry at once. Having admitted the position, that the American languages are now all of the same family, that is, that they resemble each other as much as the men of the different bands and tribes, in external aspect, physical constitution, and moral character, resemble each other, we may cease to inquire whence they derive the peculiarities of person and language, by which they are distinguished from all other men. But we believe that an hypothesis of this kind will gain few advocates among considerate and well-informed inquirers. We believe there will be found in the languages, manners, traditions, as well as in the physical conformation and character of our Indians, proofs sufficient to satisfy the candid inquirer, that they are derived from the Asiatic stock, but not from that branch of it to which belonged the haughty, the noble, the unconquered race of Ishmael; or to that race, more interesting by their history, but less pleasing in person, manners, and character, to which were committed the premises, and from which, according to the flesh, sprang the Saviour of the world. The idea has been a favourite one with many ingenious and pious men, that in our native Americans we see the long lost tribes of Israel. Ingenuity and argument, as far as they can be carried, unsupported by a firm basis of facts, have been exhausted in the discussion of this question. We propose not to enter the field of argument. We admit that several of the usages of the Indians, such as their rigid separation of females during menstruation, the care with which they, in certain feasts or sacrifices, watch that no bone of the victim shall be broken, and many others, form points of strong resemblance between this race and the Hebrews. Yet the one fact, that their languages all delight in the composition of words, sufficiently satisfies us that they cannot have been derived from that stock to which belongs the Hebrew, the Chaldaic, and the Arabic. Other arguments, which, to many minds, will not appear equally conclusive, may be derived from their total ignorance of the rite of circumcision, their considering the flesh of dogs as acceptable, in sacrifice, to their deities, etc. etc. The two facts last mentioned may be allowed to have as much weight in an argument against Hebrew original, as the separation of females, and the practice of preserving entire the bones of animals eaten in war feasts, can have for it. And thus would it be easy to bring some countervailing objection to answer every one of the arguments founded on the customs and opinions of the Indians. It is not, I believe, at this time considered necessary to meet such proofs as those of Adair, which never had any other existence than in his own fancy, nor need we take into consideration the multiplied arguments, and the ingenious speculations of others, who, without sufficient acquaintance with the habits, languages, and opinions either of the remote Hebrews or of our own Indians, have gone about to establish the belief of a strong similarity between them. In the way of a summary answer to all the arguments of these men, we may be allowed to state, that in language, rather than in any other character, would the descendants of a people retain some resemblance to their remote ancestors. Religious ceremonies, civil and domestic customs, in the exposed and wandering life of barbarians, all whose thoughts must often, and perhaps for a greater part of the time, be absorbed in the necessary, and sometimes painful and laborious struggle for self-preservation, often would be intermitted and dispensed with. Previous usages would change to suit the new and ever varying condition of the people. So might language. But being indispensable to the intercourse of every day and every moment, in all situations and emergencies, and unlike religious observances of such a nature, that what is spoken to-day may, under any circumstances, with equal convenience, be spoken to-morrow, and with infinitely more facility than new signs can be invented or understood, is it not reasonable that language, of all those things pertaining to men, by which their family identity might be marked, should change slowest and last?
No extensive acquaintance with our Indians, and their languages, is required to perceive, that in all emergencies of necessity, as in those instances where they are compelled to exchange ideas with foreigners, they readily adopt any terms in a foreign idiom, for which they may not find a corresponding sign in their own; and words thus adopted becoming parts of their own language, are subject to all the inflections and modifications of sound of those which appertain originally to their tongue. Hence that diversity in sound of words in the various dialects, which bids defiance to etymological, or rather phonological investigation. But though sounds, which, for the sake of illustration, may be compared to planks on the frame of a vessel, or shingles on the roof of a house, may be, one by one, removed and substituted by new ones, still the original frame of the language, the grammatical construction, the idiomatic forms, remaining the same, the language certainly remains the same language, though altogether changed in sound, as a vessel, covered with new planks of a different colour and aspect, would still be the same vessel. Therefore, we think that if the American languages can be proved closely and entirely to resemble each other in grammatical forms and general arrangement, we may safely consider them all as dialects of the same stock, though they should now present wide and apparently unaccountable diversities in the sounds of words. How much more easily the sounds of words, standing for the ideas we have in our minds, may be changed, than the grammatical structure and idiom of language, we may every day observe in foreigners, who, though they may ever so carefully and perfectly have learned our language, rarely, if ever, attain to some of the niceties peculiar to our tongue, or ever lay entirely aside some of the characteristic peculiarities of their own. If we reflect on the habits of the life the Indians lead, their frequent migrations, intermarriages with distant bands, their conquests, the numbers of prisoners they adopt, and, more than all, the want of any written characters to represent sounds of what are acknowledged to be the same words in different dialects of the same tongue; nor shall we hastily, on the foundation of mere diversity of sound, attempt to establish a multiplicity of different stocks. It is to be remembered, that the Americans have never, like the ancient Arabs, made the improvement of their idiom a common, or, in any shape, a general or public concern; they have never appointed solemn assemblies for the purpose of exercising their poetical talents, or held it a duty to make their children acquainted with traditionary compositions of any sort, which measures, even had they been adopted, could not have effectually secured their languages against mutations of sound or structure.
But although we can by no means pretend either to trace the American languages to the remote parent stock, or to assert that they have or have not been derived from existing and known languages, we may easily group together those which have manifest resemblance equally in structure and in the sound of words, and the groups thus formed will always be found to bring together assemblages of people, showing strong family resemblance to each other. The threefold division which was long since made by Mr. Heckewelder, of the languages within the United States’ territory, is probably founded in correct observation of the district at that time known. The Lenni Lennape, or Algonkin, the Iroquois, and the Floridian, presenting each numerous and widely dissimilar dialects, occupy all the country from the Gulf of St. Lawrence to Cape Florida, and westward to and beyond the Mississippi. Of the languages spoken in the remote and almost unexplored countries about the Rocky Mountains, too little information has been obtained, to enable us to indicate to what extent the dialects of either of the above mentioned groups may prevail in that direction. Toward the north the Iroquois seem to be limited to a few remaining in the settled parts of Canada, and to the Dahcotah bands extending northward, in the direction of the upper branches of the Mississippi, but scarce reaching the parallel of forty degrees north. Beyond this the Algonkin dialects, particularly the Ojibbeway and Cree, and the Muskegoe, expand through all the country, from near the base of the Rocky Mountains to the south western shores of Hudson’s Bay, and even in the vast peninsula of Labrador.
Westward of Hudson’s Bay, from the Churchill River to the Pacific coast, and northward to the country of the Esquimaux, are found the languages of the Chip-pe-wi-yan[65] group, including the people commonly called Chippewyans, the Sarcess, the Beaver, Red Knife, Strong Bow Indians, and many other tribes. Here we meet with a language far more monosyllabic than any hitherto known among the North Americans; one possessing a dual termination for substantives, but no plural, and whose verbs are nearly or quite incapable of inflection. Yet in the circumstance of a tendency to compounding, we find it not unlike other dialects. The peculiarities of these languages are as yet too little understood to enable the philologist to pronounce with confidence that they have any nearer resemblance to the Algonkin or the Iroquois, than to the Erse or German. Yet the people who speak them have, in their persons, all the prominent peculiarities of the American race.
Of all the remaining parts of North America, information is too scanty to justify any attempt to class the dialects.
In the present state of information on these subjects, more important service will be rendered to philology, by adding to the mass of materials, than by any vague and general discussions; we shall therefore devote the remainder of this chapter to such specimens of Indian languages as have fallen in our way, premising that our aim has been to conform, as nearly as possible, to the orthography of the English language.[66] This orthography is liable to many objections; so also would be any other that could be devised. The sounds of letters must always be somewhat arbitrary, inasmuch as there is no manner of resemblance between the sign and the thing signified.
COMPARISON OF WORDS AND SENTENCES IN THE DIALECTS OF THE OTTAWWAWS AND MENOMONIES
Ottawwaw.—Menomonie.—English.—Free translation, etc.
Me-notch-pun-gee—Me-na-wutch—A little.
O-ta-me-ne-kwain—Kut-tai-me-no—He will drink. He will drink a little.
Tun-ish-win—Tah-tah-we-nah—Wherefore.
Mow-wy-un?—Us-moke?—Doth he cry?
Ka-gaw-pung-ge-zhe-moke—Ka-zho-nicut—Near sun set. Almost sun set.
Kaw-ween—Kun—Not.
Neen-dah-koose-se—Ne-wa-suk-ko-si-nun—I was not sick.
Ke-tah-koose-nah?—Ke-wa-suk-ko-si-met?—Art thou sick?
Kuh-kish-pin-at-tone-nah?—Kau-to-te-pai-hai-met?—Wilt thou buy? For substances inanimate, or animals not entire, except a stone is spoken of. In the case of entire, or living bodies, Kuh-kish-pin-a-nah-nah, etc.
Ke-pe-nu-gin-nah—Ke-pe-now-wuk-ket—Doest thou bring
She-she-buk?—Sha-shai-puk?—ducks?
Ke-pe-nu-gin-nah—Ke-pe-now-wuk-ket—Dost thou bring
She-sheeb?—Sha-shaip?—a duck? More commonly the order of arrangement is the reverse; Sha-shaip-ke-pe-now, etc.
En-to-kwain—Nin-nauk—I know not.
Ga-get-nah—Kat-ten-nah—Indeed (is)
O-ke-mah-ow?—O-ko-mow-waw-wew?—he is a chief? Is he indeed a chief? or, doth he chief? The resemblance to the Greek Βασιλενω, and the Latin Regno, both in composition and signification, need not be pointed out to the philologist.
O-wa-nain—Wah-ne—Who
Gos-kitche-ah-na-pwa-ot?—Skesh-suk-ke-poutch?—bit his nose off?
Nish-a-nau-ba—Ma-cha-ti (adj.?)—An Indian
We-ko-mi-ko-onk—We-ko-mik-ko—at the lodge
We-tush-e—Owa—he will be
Ke-wus-kwa-be—Ke-wus-ke-pe-nun—drunk. He will be drunk at the Indian lodge.
Een-gah-ke-way—Nuh-ke-waim—I will go home. For the ideas of fitness, propriety, personal beauty, and fine quality, as of a blanket, etc., they commonly use the same word.
Bo-zin—Po-she-nun—Embark, (imper.)
Kitche-kwi-naitch—Na-sha-wis-ke-wuh—it is very well
Bo-au-zi-un—Us-hab-po-si-un—that you embark.
O-wa-nain-waw-te-ga-mut?—Wah-wia-ke-mut?[67]—With whom lives he?
Ke-wus-shiz-ze-wuk—Ka-wis-so-wuk ah-wuk—They are orphans.
Ke-we-ah-m’woi-gin-nah?—Push-ke-mwow-wuk-ket?—Will you eat?
Me-she-min-ug?—Me-she-min-uk?—apples?
Maung—Mouk—A loon.
Ma-za-tah-go-zit—Kou-ke-to—he yells. A loon yells.
We’metai-we-wug—Kut-tai-metai-we-wuk—They will have metai.
A-gaw-mink—A-gaw-me—on the other side. They are about to have a medicine dance and feast on the other side of the river.
Kitche—Ketch—Very much
Ke-te-mah-ki-zhe—Ka-ti-mok-ka-zhit—he is poor. He is very poor.
A-gaw-mink—A-gaw-me-um—From the other side
Ne-to-an-je-bah—Ne-to-pe-um—I came. I came across, or from the other side.
Win-ne-ba-go-kwi—Win-ne-ba-go-ke-wun—A Winnebago woman
Mi-uk-e-kway-wan—Wa-wa—he wives;
Pun-gee Ome-nom-o-ne-wew—Me-na-wutch ah-wew—a little, he Menomonies. A Winnebago woman is his wife, himself is a sort of a Menomonie. The arrangement of the words differs in the two dialects. The termination ah-wew, which marks the verb, being separated in the Menomonie.
Ah-gwut-ching—A-guat-chew—Without. Out side of the lodge.
Nish-a-nau-haig—Ma-cha-ti-wuk—Indians
Ta-kosh-in-oag—Pe-wuk—they come,
Che-to-wug—Ah-wauk—they say. Indians are coming, they say; or, it is said, Indians are coming.
Ke-ke-waw-nem—Ke-ka-no-kim—Thou liest,
Ke-sa-ah-gis-in-nah?—Ke-ko-ti-met?—Dost thou fear?
Nah-wutch—Ko-kai-win-ne-ko—More
Ke-zhe-kah—Ke-she-ah—he is swift. He is swifter.
U-ne-shaw—Ne-shup-naip—Without cause,
Tah-neen-a-ke-toi-un?—Kis-ke-zha-met? what sayest thou? Εμισησαν με δωρεαν, John xv. 25. “They hated me, without cause,” is a form of expression similar to this in the dialect of the Monomonies. Nas-kup-nai ke-pe-um-met? Without cause, or for nothing, didst thou come?
Tah-neen a-ke-tote?—Kus-ha-wat-to?—What saith he?
Kub-ba—Ko-pai—Throughout
Ke-zhik—ka-zhik—the day.
Kom-ma-cee, or, kaw-ma-cie—Kun-ne-mah-shew—Not yet
Ne-we-she-ne-se—Ne-meet-che-shim—I eat. I have not yet eaten, or, it is before I have eaten.
No-pe-mik[68]—No-pa-ma—Back
Pe-po-nish-she—Kin-nuh-pe-po-nup-pa—thou wilt winter. The Ottawwaw is in the imperative mood; the Menomonie, in the future, used as imperative.
Tau-ne-pe—Ko-pai-pe-pone—All winter,
Ke-pe-po-ne-sheak?—Tae s-kesh-pe-po-na-piak?—when did ye winter? There is here some difference in the arrangement of the words.
Pe-po-nunk?—Winters.
Tau-ne-pe—Tas—Where
Ke-ne-bin-e-she?—O-e-at-ne-bin ah-kwo?—didst thou summer? Where didst thou remain throughout the summer? is the translation of the sentence in Menomonie.
Pe-kwut-tinn-onk—Pe-kwut-ti-no—At Peguttino
Ko-pa-een-je-tah—Ne-kes-kim-me-no ko-pa-ne-bin—I remained all summer.
Tau-ne-pe ke-pe-po-ne-shit—Tas-kesh-pe-po-nup-pet—Where did he winter,
Ke-si-ah?—Ka-sha—thy elder brother? Where did thy elder brother pass the winter?
Tau-ne-pe as-hi-at—Tas-e-et—where remains
Non-gum—Muh-no-nah-new—now
Ke-si-ah?—Ka-sha?—thy elder brother? Where is now your elder brother?
Shi-a—Sha—Soon
Neen-gah-waw-bo-maw—Nuh-nah-wow—I shall see
Ne-si-ah—Na-sha—my elder brother.
Paw-ne-maw—Kun-new—By and by
Neen-gah—Nuh—I shall
Kus-kau-dum—Kus-kai-ne-tum—sorrow. By and by I shall be sorry.
No-pe-mik—No-pa-ma—From back
Nee’toan-je-bah—Ne-to-pe-um—I came. I came from the lands, or from the interior.
Ke-ke-pe-mish kaw-nah?—Oos-ke-pish o-met-us-pe-um?—Didst thou paddle? Didst thou come by water? The expressions are not similar in the two dialects.
Kaw-ween—Kum—No;
Pazh-ko-ka-she—Pazh-ko-ka-she—a horse
Neen-pe-pa-mo-mik—Ne-pish-nio-nik—me did bring. No; I came on horse back.
Pah-ti-e-no-wug—Ma-sha—Many
In-nah.
Kah-pe-we-je-wuh-jik?—Pish-we-je-waw-wuk-ket?—did they accompany thee? Did many persons come with thee? Ket, at the end of the Menomonie verb, has the force of in-nah, or nah, which is the mark of interrogation in the Ottawwaw.
Nah-nun—Ne-an-nun—Five
Neen-ge-pe-we-je-wauk—Pish-we-je-waw-wuk—accompanied. Five persons came with me.
‘Nin-ne’ wi-gun—Match-o-to o-kau-nun—Man’s bones
Neen-ge-me-kah-nun—Ne-mah-kun-un—I found. I found human bones, or, the bones of a man.
Tau-ne-pe-ke-ke muh-kum-un—Tas-kesh mak-kaw-mun—Where didst find
O-kun-nun?[69]—O-kau-nun?—bones? Where did you find bones?
Pe-guh-kum-me-gah-sink—Spaw-ke-uh—On a mound
Neen-ge-me-kaw-nun—Ne-mah-kun—I found
O-kun-nun—O-kau-nun—bones. Ne-nah-kun, in the Menomonie, appears to be in the past time, without the usual syllable to mark it.
Puk-kau-nun—Puk-kau-nuk—Nuts,
Ne-kish-pin-at-to-nun—Ne-kesh-tah-pah-hak-wuk—I bought them. These examples are not entirely similar; the verb used in the Menomonie being found also in the other dialect, and in both meaning TO PAY, though it is commonly thus used by the Menomonies.
Gau-gwug—Ke-ti-me-wuk—Porcupines,
Me-na-sun—Me-na-sun—thorn apples
Tumm-wow-waun—Ke-me-wuk—they eat. Porcupines eat thorn apples.
Maung—Mouk—A loon
Wi-e-buh be-che-sa—Os-ke-pew—comes early—A loon comes early in spring.
Mau-na-sheens—Mau-na-sha-sha—A fawn
Nah.
Ke-pe-nau?—Ke-pe-now?—dost thou bring? Have you brought a fawn?
Mau-na-sheen-suk—Mau-na-sha-shuk—Fawns
Nah-ke-pe-naug?—Ke-pe-now-wuk-ket?—dost thou bring? Have you brought fawns?
We-yaus-in-nah—Ma-ja-ma-sha—Meat
Ke-pe-tone?—Ke-pe-to-met?—dost thou bring? Do you bring meat?
O-pe-neeg in-nah—O-pai-neuk—Potatoes
Ke-pe-naug?—Ke-pe-now-wuk-ket?—dost thou bring? Do you bring potatoes?
Waw-was-kesh—Pah-zhus—Red deer.
Ka-go—Poan—Do not.
Gi-as-koo-sha—Pas-ke—A gull.
O-nu-mun—O-nah-mum—Red paint.
Min-ne-kwain—Me-nai-nun—Drink thou.
Kok-kin-nah—Mow-wo—All.
O-way-o—Way-uk—Some one
Ne-ke-me-nik—Ne-kesh-ma-nik—me did give. Some one gave it me.
Mok-kuk-ti-wah—Op-pa-je—Black.
Wah-ne—Wah—Who
Wa-che-mau-net?—O-tos-hiah-wik?[70]—is that canoe? Whose canoe is that?
Neesh o-ke-maig—Neesh o-ka-mow-wuk—Two chiefs
Che-mau-ne-wah—O-to-now—it is their canoe. It is the canoe of two chiefs.
Bo-che-kwet—Bo-che-kwet-to—To Green Bay
We-shaw-wuk—Kut-tai we-she-wuk—they will go. They will go to Green Bay, or, Bo-che-kwet.
O-wus-he-mah—Ko-kai-win-ne-ko—More
At-ta o-nis-he-shin—Pus ne-ma-no—could I well
Ne-tai-pe-mah-te-ze—Pa-mah-ta-shim—live
Je-ba-gom-mi-gonk—Je-pi me-ne-kaw-ne—in the town of the dead. I could be more happy to die; or, in the village of the dead I could live better.
Kee-ta-ne-mo-siew-nah?—A-na-mo-neen ke-tai-wim-met?—Art thou a dog?
Ah neet-ane-moose—On-kah’a-nam ne-tai-wim—Yes, I am a dog.
Je-bu-ka-nong—Je-pi e-mik-kun—Road of the dead.
OJIBBEWAY WORDS AND PHRASES.
Fire—Ish-koo-da. Fires—Ish-koo-daig.
Smoke of a distant fire—Puk-kwa-na.
Water—Nee-be.
Ice—Mik-kwun.
Earth—Ah-ke.
Land—Ah-ke.
A little ground—Pun-ge-sha-ah-ke.
Big, big lake—Gitche-gitche-gum-me.[71]
Wave—Tego. Waves—Te-go-wug.
Lake—Sah-gi-e-gun.
Shore—Tid-e-ba.
On the shore—Cheeg-a-beeg.
Island—Me-nis. Islands—Me-nis-un.
River—Se-be. Rivers—Se-be-wun.
Dirty pond—Pe-to-beeg. Small clear pond—Ne-bis.
Rivulet—Se-bo-wis-sha.
Rivulet, or small River—Se-be-ainse.
Up the river—O-ge-tah-je-wun.
Down the river—Nees-sah-je-wun.
Falls—Bow-we-tig.
Rapids—Sah-sah-je-wun.
Boiling spring—Mo-kid-je-wun ne-beeg.
Crossing place—Ah-zhug-ga-win.
Banks of a river—Kosh-kut-te-naunk.
Forks—Saw-waw-koo-te-kwi-aig.
Left hand side—Mum-mun-je-nik e-nuh-kuh-ka-yah.
Right hand—Gitche-nik.
Portage—One-gum.
Hill—Pe-kwut-te-naw.
Mountain—Wud-ju. Mountains—Mud-ju-wun.
Valley—Nas-sah-wut-te-naug.
Valley—Tah-wut-te-naug.
Path—Me-kun-nuh.
War road—Nun-do-bun-ne me-kun-nuh.
Stone—Us-sin. Stones—Us-sin-neeg.
Rock—Ah-zhe-beek.
Sand—Na-gow.
Clay—Waw-be-gun.
Dirt of houses—We-ah-gus-se.
Mud—Uz-zish-ke.
Cavern in rock—Ween-bah-zho-ke-kah.
Cavern, or hole in ground—Weem-baiah.
Salt—She-we-tau-gun.
Salt spring—She-we-tau-gun e-mo-gitche-wun-ne-beeg.
Deer lick—Om-waush ke-wa-wa.
Metal—Pe-waw-be-ko.
Gold—O-zaw-waw-sho-neah.
Silver—Sho-neah.
Copper—Mis-kwaw-beek.
Lead—Os-ke-ko-maung.
Iron—Pe-waw-beek.
Brass—O-saw-waw-beek.
Pewter—Waw-bush-ke-ko-mah.
Birth—Mah-chees-kunk pe-mah-te-se-win.
Death—Skwaw-be-mah-te-se-win.
Love—Meen-oo-neen-de-win.
Hatred—Sheen-ga-neen-de-win.
Marriage—We-te-kun-de-win.
Hunger—Buk-kud-da-win.
Blacking, or fasting—Muk-kud-da ka-win.
Sickness—Ah-koo-se-win.
Pain—Suc-kum-mun-dum-mo-win.
A word—Ke-ke-to-win.
Name—Ah-no-zo-win.
Cold—Kis-se-nah-win.
Heat—Ke-zhe-ta-win.
Dampness—Shuk-kiz-ze-win.
Length—Uh-kwaw-win.
Breadth—Mun-kwut-tia-ah-win.
Height, or tallness—Ke-no-ze-win.
Depth—Keen-ween-du-mah-win.
Shortness—Tuh-ko-ze-win.
Circle—Waw-we-a-ah.
Roundness—Waw-wi-a-ze-win.
Square—Shush-shuh-wao.
Squareness—Shush-shuh-wa-ze-win.
A measure—Te-bi-e-gun.
A hole—No-ko-na-ah.
Calamity, Bad Look—Mah-nah-bo-wa-wis.
Harmony—Bup-pe-she-ko-way-win.
Playfulness—Paw-pe-niz-ze-win.
Mind—Gaun-nug-gus-ke wa-shie.
Trouble—Sun-nug-ge-ze-win.
Work—Ah-no-ke-win.
Laziness—Gitche-mish-ke-win.
Strength—Mus-kaw-we-ze-win.
Shape—E-zhe-ke-win.
Breath—Puk-ke-tah-nah-mo-win.
Sleep—Ne-pah-win.
A person—Ah-we-ah.
A thing—Ka-go-shis.
Nothing—Kah-ka-go.
Noise—Be-giz-ze-win.
A shriek—We-suk-wa-win.
Howling—Wah-o-no-win.
Voice—Mus-se-tah-goo-se-win.
White (animate)—Waw-biz-ze.
White (in)—Waw-bish-kaw.
Black—Muk-kud-da-waw.
Red—Mis-kwaw.
Blue—Me-zhuh-kwod—oong; a-zhe-nah-guwt, like the sky.
Yellow—O-saw-waw.
Green—O-saw-wus-kwaw.
Great—Mit-chaw, Animate.
Greater—Nah-wud mit-chaw.
Greatest—Mi-ah-mo mit-chaw.
Small—Ah-gah-saw.
Smaller—Nah-wuj ah-gah-saw.
Smallest—Mi-ah-ma ah-gah-saw.
Strong—Soang-gun (tough.)
Hard—Mush-kaw-waw.
Heavy—Ko-se-gwun.
Light—Nahn-gun.
High—Ish-pah.
Low—Tup-pus-sah.
Damp—Tip-pah.
Thick—Kip-pug-gah, as a board.
Thick—Pus-sug-gwaw-gum-me, thick as mush.
Thick—Kip-pug-ge-gut, as cloth.
Thick—Kip-pug-ga-big-gut, as iron.
Sharp—Ke-nah.
Weak—Sha-wiz-ze.
Brave—Soan-ge-ta-ha; Strong Hearted.
Brave—Mahn-go-ta-sie; Loon Heart.
Coward—Shah-go-ta-a; Weak Heart.
Old—Ke-kaw.
Young—O-ske-ne-ge.
Good—O-nish-e-shin.
Bad—Mah-nah-tut, Inanimate.
Bad—Mah-nah-diz-ze, Animate.
Wicked—Mutche-e-pe-wa-tize.
Handsome—Kwo-nahdj.
Ugly—Mah-nah-diz-ze.
Healthy—Me-no-pe-mah-diz-ze.
Sick—Ah-koo-ze.
Alive—Pe-mah-diz-ze.
Dead—Ne-po.
Sensible—Ne-bwaw-kah.
Cunning—Kuk-ki-a-ne-ze.
Foolish—Ke-pah-te-ze.
Happy—Pau-pin-an-ne-mo.
Cool—Tuk-ka-yah.
Cold—Kis-se-nah.
Warm—Ke-zho-ze, Animate; Ke-zho-yah, Inanimate.
Hot—Ke-zhaut-ta.
Thirsty—Kos-kun-nah-pah-kwa.
Hungry—Buk-kut-ta.
First—Neet-tum, (wy-aizsh-kut.)
Second—A-ko-nee-shink.
Long—Keen-waw; keen-waizh, long in time.
Wide—Mun-gut-ta-yah.
Deep—Keen-ween-dum-mo, (as water.)
I—Neen.
Thou—Keen.
He—Ween.
She—Ween.
It—E-eu.
We—Neen-ah-wind, (excluding the person addressed.)
We—Keen-ah-wind, (including the person addressed.)
They—E-gieu, or, ween-ah-waw.
Them—E-gieu, (to persons;) e-nieu, (to things.)
| My—Our, | (None.) |
| Thy—Your, | |
| His—Their, | |
| Its, |
That—E-eu, Animate. That—Wah-ow, Inanimate.
This—Mahn-dun, or, O-o, (to things.)
This—Wah-ow, or Mah-bum, (to persons.)
This person—Mah-bum, if near.
This person—Ah-weh, if far off.
These—Ah-noon-dah, if near.
These—An-ne-weh, if far off.
Who—Wa-nain.
Which—Tah-neen-e-eu.
Both—I-eezhe.
Either—Wa-go-to-gwain.
Other—(None,) ah-ne-we, (nearly.)
All—Kok-kin-nuh.
Many—Bah-ti-eem.
Much—Ne-be-waw.
Few—Pun-ge.
A little—(The same.)
More—Min-o-waw.
Some—Ga-go.
Several—Ne-be-waw.
Where—Ah-neen-de.
When—Ah-nuh-pe.
Here—O-mah.
There—E-wid-de.
At—(Inseparable.)
Above—Ish-pe-ming.
Below—Tub-bush—shish.
Over—Gitche-i-e.
Under—A-nah-mi-e-e.
Within—Peenj-i-e.
Near—Ba-sho.
Far—Waw-saw.
Now—Noang-goom.
Soon—Wi-e-buh.
Then—Me-ah-pe.
Always—Mo-zhuk.
Never—Kah-we-kaw, or kaw-ween-we-kaw.
To-day—Nong-gum-ge-zhe-guk.
Yesterday—Pitch-e-nah-go.
To-morrow—Waw-bunk.
Long ago—Shah-shiah.
Hereafter—Pon-ne-mah.
Before—Bwoi.
After—Kah-esh-kwaw.
Once—Ah-be-ding.
Twice—Ne-zhing.
How—Ah-neen.
Well—Kwi-uk, strait.
Ill—Kaw’gwi-uk.
Quickly—Wa-weeb.
Slowly—Ba-kah-diz-ze.
Why—Ah-nish-win.
With—A-i-yeesh.
Without—(None.)
From—Wain-je.
Towards—(None.) Ah-che-waw?
Yes—Uh. Certainly—Me-nung-a-hah.
No—Kaw.
If—Keesh-pin.
And—Gi-a.
Or—(None.)
Also—(None.)
Perhaps—Go-ne-mah, or, kah-nah-butch.
One—Ning-gooj-waw.
Two—Neezh-waw.
Three—Nis-swaw.
Four—Ne-win.
Five—Nah-nun.
Six—Nin-good-waw-swe.
Seven—Neezh-waw-swe.
Eight—Shwaw-swe.
Nine—Shong-gus-swe.
Ten—Me-dos-we.
To eat—Che-we-sin-it.
To be hungry—Che-we-buk-kud-dit.
To drink—Che-min-ne-kwait.
To walk—Che-pe-mo-sait.
To run—Che-pe-me-bat-toan.
To sit down—Che-nam-mad-a-bit.[72]
To lie down—Che-shin-ge-skink.
To stand—Che-ne-bo-wit.
To stay—Cha-ah-bit.[73]
To dance—Cha-ne-mit.
To go—Cha-mah-chaht.
To come—Cha-tah-ko-shink.
To ride—Che-me-zhug-gaut.
To ride—Che-pe-mah-bi-o-goat.
To hunt—Che-ke-o-sait.
To fight—Che-me-kwa-zoat.
To smoke—Che-sug-gus-swawt.
To sing—Che-nug-gah-moat.
To smoke—Che-been-dah-kwait.
To sleep—Che-ne-baht.
To die—Che-ne-bote.
To say—Che-e-ke-doat.
To speak—Che-keke doat.
To treat—Che-to-to-waut.
To marry—Che-we-wit.
To think—Che-nain-dunk.
To know—Che-ke-ken-dunk.
To wish—(This is not a regular verb, in the Ottawwaw.)
To see—Che-wau-bit.
To hear—Che-non-dunk.
To taste—Che-ko-tun-dunk.
To smell—Che-me-non-dunk.
To touch—Che-tahn-je-nunk.
To love—Che-san-gi-unk.
To hate—Che-shin-ga-ne-maut.
To kill—Che-nis-saut.
To scalp—Che-mah-miz-zhwaut.
To give—Che-me-naut.
To take—Che-o-tau-pe-naut.
To bring—Che-be-naut.
To carry—Che-mah-che-naht.
To cut—Che-kis-ke-shunk.
To stick—Che-wa-po-to-waut.
To plant—Che-ke-te-gait.
To burn—Che-chau-ge-zung.
To bury—Che-ning-wo-waut.
To sow—Che-kus-ke-gaw-saut.
To blow—Che-pe-me-bo-tote.
To hide—Che-guk-ket-tote.
To cook—Che-che-bah-kwait.
To melt—Che-nin-ge-taik.
To subdue—Che-muk-dwait.
To have—Che-iaht.
To be—Che-iaht.
He is—Ween-sah.
I am—Neen-sah.
I am cold—Neen-ge-kudj.
I am warm—Neen-ge-zho-se.
I am young—Neen-do-ske-neeg.
I am old—Neen-ge-kaw.
I am good—Ne-meen-no-zhe-wa-bis.
I am strong—Ne-mush-kaw-wees.
I am hungry—Ne-buk-kud-da.
I am sick—Neen-dah-kooz.
It rains—Ke-me-wun.
It is cold—Kis-se-nah.
Go—Mah-jon.
Stay—Ah-bin.
Bring—Pe-toan.
Give—Meezh.
Give me—Me-zhe-shin.
Take him—O-tah-pin.
Take it—O-tah-pe-nun.
He drinks—Ween-min-ne-kwa.
He runs—Ween-pe-me-bat-to.
He sings—Ween-nug-gah-mo.
I sing—Neen-nug-gah-mo.
We eat—We-sin-ne.
I eat—Ne-wee-sin.
I came—Neen-ge-tuh-koo-shin.
He came—Ween-ge-tuh-koo-shin.
We came—Neen-ge-tuh-koo-shin-noam.
I have eat—Ne-ke-we-sin.
Thou hast eat—Ke-ke-we-sin.
He has eat—O-ke-we-sinne.
He saw—O-ke-waw-bo-maun.
He is dead—Ween-ke-ne-bo.
He has been seen—Ke-waw-bo-maw.
He shall speak—Oan-jit-tah kah-ge-e-ke-to, (I make.)
He shall go—Oan-jit-tah tah-mah-jah, (I make, etc.)
He may go—Tah-mah-jah.
We may go—Tah-mah-jah-men.
This dog—Maw-buh-an-ne-moosh.
These dogs—Ah-goon-dah-an-ne-moag.
This is mine—Neen-een-di-eem, (mine it remains.)
That is thine—Keen-ke-ti-eme, (it belongs to thee.)
Whose dog is this?—Wha-nain-wha-ti-et?
What is thy name?—Ah-neen-a-zhe-ne-kah-so-yun.
What do you call this?—Ah-neen-a-zhe-ne-kah-dah-mun?
To whom shall he speak?—O-wa-na-nan ka-kun-no-nah-jit?
Which of us shall go?—O-wa-nain ka-e-shaut?
Who shall go?—Tah-neen-a-ow-ka-e-shaut-shaut?
Either of us shall go—Ne-got-wa-hi-ao o-tai-a-shon.
Who saw these?—Wa-ne-wi-ah-bo-mik?
He—Ween.
My father—Nos-a.
My brother—Ne-kau-nis; n’dah-wa-mah, by the women.
Elder—Nesiah.
Younger—Ne-she-ma.
My sister—N’dah-wa-mah.
Elder—Ne-mis-sah.
Younger—Ne-she-mah.
My son—Ne-gwis.
My daughter—Ne-dan-nis.
My child—Ne-en-jah-nis.
My head—Ne-o-ste-gwon.
My feet—Ne-o-zit-tun.
My dog—Neen-di.
My shoes—Ne-muk-ke-zin-nun.
I saw you—Nee-ke-waw-bo-min.
I love you—Ke-zaw-ge-in; to a woman only, ne-ma-ne-ne-min.
I will marry thee, (a man to a woman)—Neen-gah-we-te-ga-mah; (a woman to a man,) kuh-we-te-ge-min.
He is taller than me—Nah-wudj-ween ke-nose-a-ko-zeaun.
He is a stranger in the village—Mi-ah-mah-mush-kaw-e-zeet o-da-nin-nong.
My wife is called handsomer—Ne-wish nah-wuj kwo-nahj a-zhe-nah-ko-zi-ian.
Your wife is younger than mine—Ke-wis nah-wudj os-ke ne-ge neen-a-pe-te-zit.
My brother is with his wife—Ne-kaun-nis o-we-je-waun we-wun.
My hatchet is in there—Ne-waw-gaw-kwut-peen-dig at-ta.
Where is he?—To-ne-e-peezh at-taik?
I am here—Maun-di-pe een-di-ah.
I am a man—Een-da-nin-ne-ne-ew.
I am a good man—Ne-min-no a-nin-ew.
Thou art a woman—Keet-e-kwa-o.
There is a God—Man-i-to sah-iah.
I am that I am—Neen-goo-sah-neen.[74]
He sings well—Ne-tah-nug-gah-mo.
He sings ill—Kaw’nit-tah nug-gah-mo-se.
He sings slow—Se-bis-kautch e-nug-gah-mo.
He sings quick—Ka-tah-tub-buh-um.
He sings his death song—O-be-mah-tuh-se-win e-nug-gah-mo-toan.
I see him—Ne-waw-bo-maw.
I see a man—E-nin-ne ne-waw-bo-maw.
I see near—Pa-show n’duk-wawb.
I see far off—Was-saw n’duk-wawb.
He came on foot—Ke-bim-me-to-sa.
He came on horseback Ke-be-pe-mom-mi-co.
You came on horseback—Ke-ke-be-pe-mo-mik.
He came by land—Ah-keeng ke-pe-e-zhaw.
He came by water—Ke-be-pe-mish-kaw-nah.
He came before me—Ke-be-ne-kaune.
He came last—Skwi-ahtch ke-ta-koo-shin.
He came without me—Kaw’neen-ge-we-je-we-goo-se.
I struck him—Neen-ge-wa-po-to-waw.
I struck him with my foot—Neen-ge-tun-gish-ko-waw; (I kicked him.)
I struck him with a stone—Us-sin neen-ge-wa-po-to-waw.
I struck him with a hatchet—Waw-gaw-kwut neen-ge-wa-po-to-waw.
I gave it to him—Neen-ge-me-nah.
I did not give it to thee—Ka-ween-keen ke-ke-me-nis-se-noan.
He gave it to me—Neen-neen-ge-me-nik.
What I gave him—Wa-go-to-gwain e-to-ge-gaw-me-nuk.
What he gave me—Wa-go-to-gwain e-to-ge-gaw-me-zhit.
And did he give it to thee?—Ke-ge-me-nik-in-nah?
Hast thou given it to him?—Ke-ge-me-nah-nah? (Didst thou give?)
Wilt thou give it to me?—Ke-kah-me-shin-nah?
May I give it to him?—Kaw-nuh neen-dah-me-nah-se?
I wish to go with thee and catch his horse—Op-pa-tus we-je-win-naun che-tah-ko-nuk o-ba-zheek-o-guh zhe-mun.
Give me some venison to put in his kettle—Me-she-shin we-yos, che-po-tah kwi-aun o-tah-ke-koonk.
We conquered our country by our bravery, we will defend it with our strength—Ne-munk-kund-wa-min ain-dun-uk-ke-ung, e-zhin-ne-ne-wi-aung, (our manliness,) or, ne-mahn-go tah-se-we-win-ne-naun, (our loon heartedness,) ne-kah-ko-no-ain-dah-men ne-mus-kaw wiz-ze-win-ne-naun.
Good morning—Me-gwaitch wi-ah-bah-me-non; (I am glad to see you.)
How is it with thee?—Tah-neen keen-o-waw aiz-zhe-be-mah-te-ze-aik?—(If two or more, ke-me-no be-nah te-ze-nah?—how dost thou live?)
He is a good man—Me-no-pa-mah-tiz-ze e-nin-ne.
Dost thou live well?—Ke-men-no-pe-mah-tiz-ze-nah!
What news?—Ah-heen ain e-kum-me-guk?
I know him—Ne-ke-ken-ne-maw.
I understand—Ne-ke-ken-dum; (weeds and small things; of a tree, or a large stone, they say, ne-ke-ken-ne-maw.)
She is a good woman—Men-no-pa-mah-te-se.
It is a large tree—Gitche-me-tik: (large tree.)
I see it—Ne-waw-bo-maw, if a man, a tree, or a large stone; Ne-waw bun-daun, if inanimate, or a very small animate object.
I give you this canoe—Ke-me-nin[75] maun-dun che-maun.
Take it—O-tau-pe-nun.
I give you this deer—Ke-me-nin maw-buh waw-waw-wash-gais.
Take him—O-tau-pin.
Give me meat—Me-zhe-shinwe-yos; give or hand to me, pe-doan.
Give me that dog—Me-zhe-shin owan-e-moose.
Bring water—Ne-beesh nah-din.
Bring the prisoners—Beesh a-wuh-kau-nug.
This is my father’s canoe—No-si-ah maun-dun o-che-maun.
I gave corn to my father—Mun-dah-me-nun neen-ge-me-nah noas.
I planted corn for my father—Neen-ge ke-te-go-waw noas.
I love my father—Ne-sah-ge-ah noas.
I took corn from my father—Neen-ge o-tah-pe-nun-no-waw noas mun-dah-min.
I came with my father—Ne-pe-we je-waw noas. (I accompanied my father.)
I saw a deer—Neen-ge-waw-bo-mo waw-wash-gais.
I saw two deer—Neesh-waw-wash-gais-e-wug ne-waw-bo-maig.
I killed a deer—Waw-wash-gais neen-ge-ne-sah.
I killed him with my hatchet—Ne-waw-gaw-kwut-ne-ke oon-jin-nee-sah.
I took the skin from the deer—Neen-ge puk-ko-nah, (if he saved the meat;) neen-ge-gitche ke-zwo-ah, (if he threw it away.)
CONJUGATION OF A VERB
To tie—Tah-ko-pitche ga-wing.[76]
Tie him—Tah-ko-pish.
Tie them—Tah-ko-bish ah-giew.
I tie—N’tah-ko-pe-toon.
Thou tiest—Ke-ta-ko-pe-toon in-a-nim.
He ties—O-tah-ko-pe-toon.
We (two) tie—Neen-dah-ko-pe-do-men.
We tie—(The same.)
You (two) tie—Ke-tah-ko-pe-toan-ah-waw.
They tie—O-tuh-ko-pe-toan-ah-waw.
He ties me—Neen-dah-ko-be-nik.
He ties thee—Ke-tah-ko-be-nik.
He ties him—O-tah-ko-be-naun.
He ties her—(The same.)
He ties us (two)—Ke-tah-ko-be-nik o-naun.
He ties us (all)—(The same.)
He ties you (two)—Ke-tah-ko-be-nik-o-waw.
He ties you (all)—(The same.)
He ties them—O-tah-ko-bin-naun.
They tie me—Ne-dah-ko-bin-ne-goag.
They tie thee—Ke-tah-ko-bin-ne-goag.
They tie him—O-tah-ko-bin-ah-waun.
They tie her—(The same.)
They tie us (two)—Ke-tah-ko-bin-ne-ko-nah-nik.
They tie us (all)—(The same.)
They tie you (two)—Ke-tah-ko-bin-ne-go-waug.
They tie you (all)—(The same.)
They tie them—O-tah-ko-bin-nah-waun, (the same as one.)
I tie thee—Ke-tah-ko-be-nin.
I tie him—Neen-dah-ko-be-naun.
I tie you (two)—Ke-tah-ko-be-ne-nim.
I tie you (all)—(The same.)
I tie them—Neen-dah-ko-be-naug.
We (two) tie thee—Ke-tah-ko-bin-ne ne-nin-ne-min.
We (two) tie him—Ne-dah-ko-be nah-naun.
We (two) tie you (two)—Ke-tah-ko-bin-ne nin-ne-min.
We (two) tie you (all)—(The same.)
We (all) tie them—Ke-tah-ko-bin-nah-nah-nik.
Thou tiest me—Ke-tah-ko-bish.
Thou tiest him—Ke-tah-ko-bin-nah.
Thou tiest us (two)—Ke-tah-ko-bish-e-min.
Thou tiest us (all)—(The same.)
Thou tiest them—Ke-tah-ko-bin-naug.
We (all) tie thee—Ke-tah-ko-be-nin-ne-min.
We (all) tie him—Neen-dah-ko-bin-nah-naun.
We (all) tie you (two)—Ke-tah-ko-bin-nun-ne-min.
We (all) tie you (all)—(The same.)
You (two) tie me—Ke-tah-ko-biz-zhim.
You (two) tie him—Ke-tah-ko-bin-nah-waw.
You (two) tie us (two)—Ke-tah-ke biz-zhe-min.
You (two) tie us (all)—(The same.)
You (two) tie them—Ke-tah-ko-bin-nah-waug.
You (two) tie me—Ke-tah-ko-be-zhim.
You (all) tie him—Ke-tah-ko-bin-ah-waw.
You (all) tie us—Ke-tah-ko-biz-zhe-min.
You (all) tie them—Ke-tah-ko-bin-nah-waug.
He has tied us—Een-ge-tah ko-bin-ne-ko-nahn.
He has tied thee—Ke-ke-tah-ko-be-nik.
He has tied him—O-ke-tah-ko-be-nahn.
He has tied us (two)—Een-ge-tah-ko-bin-ne-ko-nahn.
He has tied us (all)—(The same.)
He has tied you (two)—Ke-ke-tah-ko be-nik-o-waw.
He has tied you (all)—(The same.)
He has tied them—O-ke-tah-ko-be-naun.
They have tied me—Neen-ge-tah ko-bin-ne-goag.
They have tied him—O-ke-tah-ko-bin-nah-waun.
They have tied us (two)—Ke-ge-tah-ko-bin-nik o-nah-nik, or, neen-ge, if a third person is addressed.
They have tied us (all)—(The same.)
They have tied you (two)—Ke-ke-tah-ko-bin-nih-o-waug.
They have tied you (all)—(The same.)
They have tied them—O-ke-tah-ko-bin-nah-waun.
I have tied him—Neen-ge-tah-ko-bin-nah.
I have tied them—Neen-ge-tah-ko-bin-nahg.
Thou hast tied me—Ke-ke-tah-ko-bish.
Thou hast tied him—Ke-ke-tah-ko-be-nah.
Thou hast tied us (two)—Ke-ke-tah-ko-biz-zhe-min.
Thou has tied us (all)—(The same.)
Thou hast tied them—Ke-ke-tah-ko-be-nahg.
We have tied him—Neen-ge-tah ko-be-nah-nahn.
We (all) have tied him—(The same.)
You (two) have tied him—Ke-tah-ko-be-nah-waw.
You (all) have tied him—(The same.)
He will tie me—Neen-gah-tah-ko-be-nik.
He will tie thee—Ke-gah-tah-ko-be-nik.
He will tie him—O-gah-tah-ko-be-nahn.
He will tie us (all)—Ke-gah-tah-ko-be-nik-ah-nahn, to the second person; to a third, Nin-gah-tah-ko-bin-nik-ah-nahn.
He will tie them—O-kah-tah-ko-be-nahn.
They will tie me—Neen-gah-tah-ko-bin-ne-goag.
They will tie thee—Ke-gah-tah-ko-bin-ne-goag.
They will tie him—O-gah-tah-go-bin-nah-waun.
They will tie us (two)—Ke-gah-tah-ko-bin-ne-ko-nah-nik, to the second person.
They will tie you (two)—Ke-gah-tah-ko-bin-ne-ko-waug.
They will tie them—O-gah-tah-ko-bin-nah-waun.
I will tie him—Neen-gah-tah-ko-bin-nah.
I will tie them—Neen-gah-tah-ko-bin-nahg.
Thou wilt tie me—Ke-gah-tah-ko-bish.
Thou wilt tie him—Ke-gah-tah-ko-be-nah.
Thou wilt tie them—Ke-gah-tah-ko-be-nahg.
We (two) will tie him—Neen-gah-tah-ko-be-nah-nahn, to the third person.
We (all) will tie him—(The same.)
You (two) will tie him—Ke-gah-tah-ko-be-nah-nahn.
You (all) will tie him—(The same.)
I would tie thee—Ke-tah-tah-ko-be-nin.
I would tie him—Neen-dah-tah-ko-be-nah.
I would tie them—Neen-dah-tah-ko-be-nahg.
He would tie thee—Ke-tah-tah-ko-be-nik.
He would tie him—O-dah-tah-ko-be-nahn.
He would tie them—(The same.)
I might tie thee—Tah-ko-be-nin-naun.
I might tie him—Tah-ko-be-nug.
I might tie them—Tah-ko-bin-nug-waw.
He might tie thee—Tah-ko-bin-naut.
He might tie them—(The same.)
I ought to tie thee—Tah-ko-bin-ne-nahm-bahn.
I ought to tie him—Tah-ko-bin-nug-ge-bun.
He ought to tie thee—Tah-ko-bin-nik-e-bun.
He ought to tie them—Tah-ko-bin-nut-waw-bun.
That I may tie thee—Go-mah-tah-ko-be-nin-nahn.
That I may tie him—Go-mah-tah-ko-bin-nuk.
That I may tie them—Go-mah-tah-ko-bin-nuk-waw.
That he may tie thee—Go-mah-tah-ko-be-zhit.
That he may tie him—Go-mah-ween-tah-ko-be-naht.
That he may tie them—(The same.)
If I tie thee—Tah-ko-bin-ne-naun.
If I tie him—Tah-ko-be-nug.
If I tie them—Tah-ko-be-nug-waw.
If he tie thee—Tah-ko-be-nik-e-bun.
If he tie him—Tah-ko-be-nau-pun.
If he tie them—(The same.)
I make thee tie them—Oon-jit-tah ke-kah-tah-ko-bin-nahg.
I make him tie them—Oon-jit-tah o-kah-tah-ko-be-naun.
I make them tie thee—Oon-jit-tah ke-kah-tah-ko-bin-ne-goge.
He makes me tie them—Ne-kah-gau-zo-nick, tah-ko-be-nug-waw.
He does not tie me—Kaw’neen-dah-ko-bin-ne-ko-se.
He does not tie thee—Kaw’ke-tah-ko-bin-ne-ko-se.
He does not tie him—Kaw’o-tah-ko-bin-nah-zeen.
They do not tie me—Kaw’neen-dah-bo-bin-ne-ko-seeg.
They do not tie him—Kaw’o-tah-ko-bin-nah-se-waun.
He has not tied me—Kaw’neen-ge-tah-ko-bin-ne-ko-se.
He will not tie me—Kaw-ween nun-gah-tah-ko-bin-ne-ko-ze.
He shall not tie me—Kaw-pau-pish neen-dah-tah-ko-bin-ne-ko-se.
That he may not tie me—Ga-mah-tah-ko-biz-zhe-sik.
If he does not tie thee—Tah-ko-be-nis-se-nook.
I will make him tie you—Oon-jit-tah ke-kah-tuh-ko-be-nik.
I will not make him tie thee—Kaw’ne-kah-gah-gaw-zo-mah-se jit-tah-ko-be-nik.
He made me tie thee—Ne-ke-gah-gau-zo-mik ke-chah-tah-ko-be-nean-un.
He did not make me tie thee—Kaw’neege-e-go-so jit-tah-ko be-ne-naun.
I am tied—Neen-dah-ko-bees.
Thou art tied—Ke-tah-ko-bees.
He is tied—Tah-ko-biz-zo.
We (two) are tied—Ke-tah-ko-biz-zo-min; to the second person, nee-dah-ko-biz-zo-min.
We (all) are tied—(The same.)
You (two) are tied—Ke-tah-ko-biz-zoom.
You (all) are tied—(The same.)
They are tied—Tah-ko-biz-zo-wug.
I was tied—Een-ge-tah-ko-bis.
I was tied by thee—Keen-gah oon-je-tah-ko-biz-zo-yahn.
I was tied by him—Ween-gah oon-je-tah-ko-biz-zo-yahn.
He shall be tied—Oon-jit-tah tah-tah-ko-be-zoo.
That he may be tied—Kut-tah tah-ko-be-zo.
I am not tied—Kaw’n’dah-ko-biz-zo-ze.
He is not tied—Kaw’tah-ko-biz-zo-ze.
I was not tied—Kaw’ne-ke-tah-ko-biz-zo-ze.
He shall not be tied—Kaw’tah tah-ko-biz-zo-ze.
He who is tying thee—Ai-neen a-piz-zoi-un.
We tie each other—Mah-ma-ash-kote guh-tah-ko-bin-ne-te-min.
You tie each other—Mah-ma-ash-kote tah-ko-bin-ne-tik.
They tie one another—Tah-ko-bin-ne-te-wug.
I tie myself—N’tah-ko-bin-ne-tis.
He ties himself—Tah-ko-bin-ne-tiz-zo.
We tie ourselves—Nid-dah-ko-bin-ne-tiz-zo-min.
They tie themselves—Tah-ko-bin-ne-tiz-zo-wug.
Does he tie thee?—Ke-tah-ko-bin-nik-in-nah?
Has he tied thee?—Ke-ke-tah-ko-bin-nik-in-nah?
Shall he tie thee?—Ke-kah-tah-ko-be-nik-in-nah?
Do they tie him?—O-tah-ho-bin-nah-waun-in-nah?
Have they tied him?—O-ke-tah-ko-bin-nah-waun-in-nah?
Will they tie him?—O-we-tah-ko-bin-nah-waun-in-nah?
Shall I tie them?—Een-gah-tah-ko-bin-nahg-in-nah?
Wilt thou tie them?—Ke-kah-tah-ko-bin-nahg-in-nah?
Will thou tie him?—Ke-kah-tah-ko-bin-nahn-nah?
LORD’S PRAYER, IN OJIBBEWAY AND ENGLISH
Ko-se-naun, (our Father,) o-wa-nain, (who,) ish-pe-ming, (above,) ain-daut, (liveth,) mah-no-ti esh-she-wa-but, (what you wish to be done,) wah-e-she wa-be-to-e-yun, (let it be done,) Kaw-taw-paw-pish zhin-dah-zeem, (let us not play with thy name,) mah-no-be-zhe nah-zhi-yun nah-gah-muk sa-ne-guk, (let thy great power come,) me-zhe-shin-naung ka-me-je-yaun nong-goom ge-zhe-gut, (give us our food this day,) me-zhe-shin-naung o-ma-ze-naw-o-mon-aung, (give us our debts,) a-zhe-ko-te-bah-mah-tink, (as we give our debtors,) Ka-go e-zhe-wizh-zhis, zhe-kaun-gain mi-ah nah-tuk, (do not lead us into bad things,) kun-no-wa-no mish-she-naung mi-ah-nah-tuk, (keep us from bad things,) naw-gau-ne-zit ta-ba-ne-mut (power belongs to thee,) gia mash-kaw-e-zeet, (and strength,) kau-gin-neek, (for ever.)
LORD’S PRAYER, IN OJIBBEWAY.
Kosenaun owanain ishpeming aindaut mahnoti eshshewabut waheshewabetoeyun kawtawpawpish zhindahzheem mahnobezhe nahzhiyun nahgahmuk saneguk mezheshinnaung, kamejeyaun nonggoom gezhegut mezheshinnaung omazenawomonaung azhekotebahmahtink; Kago ezhewizhzhis zhekaungain miahnahtuk; kunnowano mishshenaung mishnahtuk; nawgaunezit tabanemut gia mashkawezeet, kauginneek.
COMPARISON OF THE LANGUAGE OF ELLIOT’S VERSION OF THE BIBLE, WITH SOME OF THE DIALECTS OF THE PRESENT DAY.
Elliot.—Ottawwaw.
Ne-oh-ke-oo-ook[77]—Me-nik ka-ah-ko pe-mah-tug ah-ke—As long as the ground lives.
Oh-ke-ko-nah-kah—O-pe-ga-to-gonk-gia—planting time and
Ke-pe-num-mun-at—O-pe-ma-maung—gathering time,
Toh-koi-hah-kus-si-teau—Kis-se-nah-gia-ke-shaut-ta—cold and heat,
Ne-pun-nah—Ne-bin-gia—summer and
Po-pon—Pe-poan—winter,
Ke-su-kod-kah—Ke-zhi-kut-gia—day and
Nu-kon—Tib-bik-kut—night,
Mat-ta—Kaw-we-kaw—never
Jeish-ah-kwoh-ta-noo—Ta-pun-nah tis-se-noan—shall cease.
While the earth remaineth, seed time and harvest, cold and heat, summer and winter, day and night, shall not fail.—Gen. viii. 22.
Ne-tah-tup—E-she-way-buk—Even so
Nish-noh—Pa-pa-zhik—each
Wun-ne-gen ma-tug—Way-nish-she-shit-me-tik—good tree
Ad-tan-na-gen—Wain-je-ne-tah-we-jink—produceth
Wun-ne-ge-nash mec-chum-mu-on-gash—Mo-zhe-ka-ko-mah-jink—every kind of food,
Gut-match-tit matug—Koo-shah matche-me-tik—but a bad tree
Ad-tan-ne-gen match-te-toash—Na-tah-we-git—beareth
Me-chum-mu-on-gash—Mat-che-me-nun—bad berries.
Even so every good tree bringeth forth good fruit, but a corrupt tree evil fruit. Matt. vii. 17.
Kah o-moh-ku—Gia-pus-e-gwe—And he arose,
Kah mon-chu-en we-kit—Gia-we-ke-wa-mink e-zhaw—and to his house he went.
And he arose and went to his house.—Matt. ix. 2.
Mat-ta-pish koo-mit-tam-wus-sis-su—Kaw-ween ke-kah-we-wis-sis-se—Not shalt thou wive,
Kah-mat-ta-pish koo-nau-mo-ni-yeu—Gia-kaw’ke-kah o-kwis-sis-se—and not shalt thou son,
A-suh-koo-taun-i-yeu—Kaw-ke-kah o-dau-nis-sis-se—not shalt thou daughter,
Yeu-ut-a-yeu-on-ga-nit[78]—Maun-di-pe nuk-ka-kum-mik—here in the place.
Thou shalt not take thee a wife, neither shalt thou have sons or daughters in this place.—Jer. xvi. 2.
COMPARISON OF THE LANGUAGE OF SOME VERSIONS OF THE BIBLE, WITH THE OTTAWWAW OF THE PRESENT TIME
Of two existing versions of the Bible, or parts of it, in dialects similar to the Ojibbeway, that of Mr. Elliot, made in 1661, would be most easily adapted to the use of the Ottawwaws and Ojibbeways, in the country about the lakes. The Delaware of Mr. Deuke’s version, printed at New-York, 1818, whether owing to difference of orthography, or some other cause, seems widely unlike any of the Algonkin dialects we have heard spoken. The following comparison with the Ottawwaw of the present day, will perhaps scarce afford a single point of resemblance.
Ehoalachgik? jukwe metschi ktelli wundamemensineen Gelanitawitink; schuk neskwe majawii elsi jauktsch, schuk ktelli majaweten dameneen, nkwuttentsch woachkwake ktellitsch linanizeen elinaxit ktellilsch newoaneen elinaxit.—1 John iii. 2. [Deuche’s version.]
Sah-git-te-wun-nun! (ye beloved!) gee-no-wind (are we) Gitche-Manito, (the great God,) o-gwis-sun (his sons) kaw-ween (not) ke-ke-ken-dun-se-min (ye understand) ka-iz-zhe-wa-biz-zhe-wunk (how we shall be) koo-shah (but) ke-ken-dah-min (we know) ope-che-waw-bu-muk (when he appeareth) ah-yeesh na-she-nah-koo-se-min (we shall resemble him) ke-kah-waw-bo-maw-naun (we shall see him) a-zhe-nah-koo-zit (which he is like.)—Ottawwaw.
Beloved, now are we the sons of God; and it doth not yet appear what we shall be, but we know that, when he shall appear we shall be like him, for we shall see him as he is.—English version.
The following are comparisons of passages from Mr. Elliot’s Bible, with the same dialect.
Elliot.—Ottawwaw.
Onk-as-kook[79]—Gia-ke-na-beek—And the snake
Un-nan—O-ge-gah-no-naun—said to
Mit-tam-mo-sis-soh—E-kwa-wun—the woman,
Mat-ta—Kaw-ween—not
Woh-nup-poo-e ke-mup-poo—O-jit-tah-ke-kah-ne-boas[80]—shall you die.
And the serpent said unto the woman, thou shalt not surely die.—Eng. ver. Gen. iii. 4.
(Elliot, Cotton Mather, and other early protestant divines, thought it not best to attempt translating any of the names of the divinity into the Indian, for the obvious reason, that their language affords no word which would not awake associations in the minds of the natives, very inconsistent with the character of the true and holy God. They thought it better to retain the English appellations, and attempt gradually to elevate the conceptions of the Indians to our standard, than incur the risk of perpetuating their ideas of the characters attributed to their deities, by introducing their original names into the new version of the Scriptures.)
COMPARISON OF A GREEK SENTENCE WITH THE DIALECT OF THE OTTAWWAWS.
αἰ αλωπεκες, [The foxes]—Waw-goo-shug, [foxes]
φωλεους, [holes]—Waw-zhe-wug, [hole, v. a.]
εχονσι, [they possess,]—Gia-nun-nuh-ke-zhik, [and between sky adj.]
χαιτα ῳετειυα, [and the birds]—Be-nais-se-wug, [birds]
του ουρανου, [of heaven]—O-wus-sis-so-ne-wug, [nest, v. a.]
χατασχηνῳσσεις, [nests,]—Koo-shah, [but]
ο δε νιος, [the but son]—O-nin-ne o-gwis, [man his son]
του ανθρωπου, [of man]—Kaw’nin-goo-che, [not any where]
ουκ εχει, [not possesseth]—In-ne-kwa-shin-she, [may lie down.]
ωον, [where]
την κεφαλην, [his head]
κλιην, [he may lay.]
The foxes have dens, and the birds of the air have nests, but the son of man hath not where to lay his head.—Matt viii. 20.
FIRST CHAPTER OF GENESIS, TRANSLATED INTO THE OJIBBEWAY LANGUAGE
1. Wi-azh-kut Man-e-do wa-zhe-toan mahn-dun Ge-zhik gia Ak-ke.
2. Gia pa-bunk ak-ke at-tah go-bun gia kah-ga-go at-ta-sin o-go-bun, gia tib-be-kut o-kit-te-beeg, gia man-e-do o-pug-git-to nah-mo-win o-mam-mah-je-mug-gut o-kit-te-beeg.
3. Man-e-do ke-e-ke-do to-we-was-siah; gia ge-was-siah.
4. Gia man-e-do o-waw-ben-daun was-siah, ge-o-nish-she-shin gia man-e-do o-nah-nah-we-nahn was-siah gia tib-be-kut.
5. Gia ma-ne-do o-ke-shinne-kau-taun was-siah, Ge-zhe-gut gia tib-bik-nis-se o-ke-shinne-kau-taun tib-be-kut, Gia o-nah-koo-shig ke-ke-zhaib ne-tum ke-ge-zhe-guk.
6. Gia man-e-do ke-e-ke-do Kut-ti e-she-wa-bug mahn-dun nun-nuh ge-zeik nus-sow-wi-a-e ne-bish ush-uh-ko-taig, gia aut-taush-ke-no-mink e-toi’a-e, ne-bish e-toi-wi-a-e gitche, te-go-mug-guk ish-pe-ming gia-tub-bush-shish.
7. Gia man-e-do o-ke o-zhe-toan nun-nuh-ge-zhe-gut gia o-na-nah-we-naun ne-beesh ish-pe-ming gitche-tah-goak gia tub-bush-shish gitche-tah-goak, me-kah-e-she-e-wa-buk.
8. Gia man-e-do o-ge-zhin-ne-kau-taun nun-nuh-ge-zhik Ge-zhik a-nah-koo-zhik Ke-ke-zhaib wi-ah-ne-ka-ge-zhe-gut.
9. Gia man-e-do ke-e-ke-do mahn-dun-ne-beesh an-nah-mi-a-e at-taig tum-mah-wun dosh-kah ah-ke-kut tuh-bung-wun, me-kah e-zhe-wa-buk.
10. Gia man-e-do o-ke-zhin-ne-kau-taun ak-ke gia kaw-mow aun-dos-kaug ne-beesh o-ge-zhin-ne-kau-taun Gitche-gum-me gia man-e-do o-waw-ben-daun o-nish-e-shing.
11. Gia man-e-do ke-e-ke-do ak-ke kut-ti on-je-ne-tah-we-gin me-zhus-keen, gia me-zhus-keen tu-e-me-ne-kau-ne-wun-nong, gia me-tig mah-jink wain-je-we-tah-we-gi-uk me-ne-kaun me-tig-goank at-ta on-jit-tah-gum-mig me-kah e-she-wa-buk.
12. Gia shi-a ke-ne-tah we-gin-noan me-zhus-keen gia me-ne kaw-ne-wun-noan mo-zhuk-keen tib-bin-no-wa-go zhe-nah-gwut gia me-tig me-ne-ne kau-ne-we tib-bin-no-wa me-ne-kaw-ne-we tib-bin-no-wa o-ke-tah-kum-mig, Gia man-e-do o-ge-waw-bun-daun uz-zho nish-she-shing.
13. Gia an-nah-koo-zhik Ke-ge-zhaib me-nis-swo ge-zhe-guk.
14. Gia man-e-do ke-e-ke-do tuh-we wah-si-ahn nun-nuh-ge-zhik uh-ge-zhik-oank che-na-nah-we-num-ming ge-zhe-gud gia tib-be-kud, tuh-we ke-kin-no-wautch che-gau-ta gia ke-ke no-no-win-nun ge-zhe-gud gia pe-boan.
15. Gia tuh-we was-si-ahn nun-nuh-we ge-zhik o-ke-tah-kum-mik che-was-siag o-ke-tah-kum-mik, me-kah e-she-wa-bug.
16. Gia man-e-do o-ge-o-zhe-toan neezh gitche was-si-ahn, gitche was-si-ah che-te-ban-dung ge-zhe-gut gia a-gaw-sing was-si-ah che-te-ban-dung tib-be-kut, gia o-ke-o-zhe-naun an-nung-wun.
17. Gia man-e-do puk-kit-te-naun was-si-ah nun-nuh ke-zhik, onk gitche was-si-aig o-ge-tah-kum-mig.
18. Gia che-mus-ko-kung ge-zhe-gut gia tib-be-kut, gia che-na-nau-we num-ming was-si-ah ge-zhe-gut gia tib-be-kut gia man-e-do o-waw-bun-daun o-nish-she-shing.
19. Gia an-nah-koo-zhik ke-ke-zhaib-ne-o-ko-ni-guk.
20. Gia man-edo ke-e-ke-do, ne-beeng tuh-we oan-je ne-tah-we-ga ba-mah-de-zeet mah-nah-cheet gia be-nais-se-wug, ka-pa-ba-buh me-so-jig nun-nuh ke-zhik.
21. Gia man-e-do o-to-zheaun Gitche-mah-nuh-maig-wun, gia kok-kin-nuh ba-mah-de-zid ma-mah-cheet ne-beeng on-je ne-tah-we-kwug, gia ba-ba-zhik wa-nin-gwe kwun-nah-jik be-nais-se-wug, gia man-e-do o-waw-bun-daun o-nish-e-shing.
22. Gia man-e-do o-gug-guh-no-naun e-ke-tong, tuh-oan-je ne-gin gia gitche-ne-bin-nah moosh-kin-nah-toag, gitche-gum-me, tuh-we bah-te-no-wug be-nais-se-wug o-ge-tak kummig.
23. Gia an-nah-koo-zhig ke-ke-zhaib ni-ah-no ko-ni-guk.
24. Gia man-e-do ke-e-ke-do ak-ke tuh-we oan-je ne-ton-we-go-be mah-de-zit ah-wes-se-ug gia ba-bah-ma-to-jig ah-wes-se o-ke-tah-kum-mig me-gah esh-e-wa-buk.
25. Gia man-e-do o-ke-o-zhe-aun ah-wes-se-ug che-she-nah-koo-ze-nit, gia ba-me-nint ah-wes-se, gia kok-kin-nuh a-zhe-nah-koo-zit ba-bah-mo-tait, gia man-e-do o-waw-ben-daun o-nish-she-sheng.
26. Gia man-e-do ke-e-ke-do, gah o-zhe-ah-naun e-nin-ne, a-zhe-nah-koo-ze-unk che-me-nah-koo-zit, a-zhe kok-kin-nuh wautch-che-yah-zho-yunk che-she-nah-goo-zit, gia o-kah te-ba-ne-mah-waun kok-kin-nuh ke-goi-yug gitche-gum-mig gia be-nais-se-wug nun-nuh he-zhik-koank, gia a-wes-se-yug, gia kok-kin-nuh ak-ke, gia kok-kin-nuh ba-bah-mo-ta-jig o-ke-tah-kum-mig.
27. Ge man-e-ko o-ke-o-zhe-aun e-nin-ne-wun a-zhe-nah-koos-nit, a-zhe-nah-ko-zit man-e-do o-ke-e-zhe-aun e-nin-ne-wun, e-kwa-wun o-zhe-naun.
28. Gia man-e-do o-gug-guh-no-naun gia, man-e-do o-din-naun tuh-oan-je ne-tah-we-gin, che-bah-ti-e-no-waud che-moosh-ke-naig ak-ke gich-e-ta-tum-mo-waut, gia, et-be-ne-nah-waut ke-goi-yug, gia be-na-se-wug nun-nuh ke-zhik-koank, gia kok-kin-nuh ba-mah-ta-zit o-ke-tah-kum-mig.
29. Gia man-e-do ke-e-ke-do—ke-me-nin kok-kin-nuh maun-dun, na-tah-we-gi-uk o-ke-tah-kum-mig, gia pa-pa-zhik me-tig, wain-je ne-tah-we gwi-uk ka-ko mah-ji-uk, ke-nah-waw wain-je-ne-tah-we-gi-uk ke-me-je-aig.
30. Gia kok-kin-nuh a-wes-se-yug o-ke-tah-kum-mig, gia be-na-se-wug nun-nuh-ke-zhik, gia ba-bah-mo-ta-jig o-ke-tah-kum-mig, kok-kin-nuh ne-men-aug-we-ug o-me-zhuh-keen, che-nin-je-ga-waut, me-kah-e-she-e-wa-buk.
31. Gia man-e-do o-waw-bun-daun kok-kin-nuh maun-dun wa-zhe-to-te o-nish-she-she-shing, gia an-nah-koo-zhik ke-ke-zhaib ne-kot-wa-as-so-ko-ni guk.