So Ojeeg gave up his life, but he had sent warmth to all the creatures of the earth, and since that time his people have had the four seasons, instead of one unbroken season of bitter cold and snow.
The little Omeme was proud of the mighty deed of his father. He was cold no more: and he grew up to be a mighty hunter, as his father the great Ojeeg had been before him.
And when the Indians look up at the stars and see the constellation of the fish, they say, “That is Ojeeg, the Fisher, who gave the summer to his people.”
BIRTH OF THE ARBUTUS
(Ojibwa)
LONG years ago, when only the red men lived among the hills and valleys of the land, an old, old man sat shivering over the low fire of his tepee. The old man was Peboan. He was chief of the winter spirits.
The outside world was covered with snow. The branches of the trees bent low with its weight. The sides of the tepee were heavy with snow. All the tracks of the bear and the rabbit were hidden.
The old man shivered, and bent over his fire. He was clothed in furs, and furs covered the floor of the tepee. But they could not keep out the chill winds, for the fire was low. There was no more wood to replenish it. Snow covered all the fallen branches, and the chief was old and feeble.
Peboan had been a mighty hunter. He had killed the moose and the bear. The skins of many deer were about him. But now his hair was white as the icy fringes of the frozen brook.
He blew upon the coals of his fire and they glowed, bright as the eyes of a startled deer in the forest. But the glow faded. The old man shivered.