Told by Peter York.
Long years ago there were two Ojibwa boys who lived so close together
that they called each other “Brother,” and one time when they got to be
big boys they talked about getting married, so they went away to an
Indian (Ojibwa) village not far away and got girls to marry them. When
they got married they wanted to know what to do to make a living. One
said “We will go a long ways up the river to hunt and stay there for a
good while and will be able to get enough to keep us during the winter
months.” They got ready for the trip and started with a good supply.
They stayed a long time till they got enough (furs and meat) and then
started to come home.
On their way home they came to a place where there were a lot of stumps
and snags, and one of them struck a stump and made a big hole in his
canoe. He had to go to shore to fix his canoe, whilst the other canoe
went on ahead. When the canoe was mended they started on again and when
they came to a little lake they saw their comrade just about the other
side of the little lake going into a river where there were lots of
other Indians (Mohawks, their enemies) waiting for them to come home
with their catch of fur and meat. The man in the second canoe said to
his wife, “Well, my brother is going to get killed, as he goes into the
river, you watch!” And when the first canoe was just going into the
river there was smoke of gunfire from both sides. The wife (in the
second canoe) said, “We will be killed the same way.” The husband
replied, “Well, no. If I get mad (angry) there is no shot that could
hit me. I will go alone to see, and you stay here till I come back.”
“No,” she said, “You can’t go, you will be shot too.” “Well,” said he,
“let them shoot, they can’t hit me. I had a dream in my early days that
no gun could hurt me, and if my dream is no good I won’t come back.” So
they got everything out of the canoe and he started in the canoe with
his gun for the same place where his comrade got shot. When he got
there the gunfire started from both sides of the river and kept up for
a long time, till after a while the fire was not so bad, after another
while the fire ceased and the wife looked and looked and after a short
time she saw something coming straight to where she was waiting. She
knew the canoe but there was a different man in it. She hid herself in
the bush till she heard her man calling to her and then she came out.
Her man was all black, and it was because he had so many close shots
fired at him that the gunpowder blackened him up, so that the wife only
knew him by his voice when he called her. They got ready and crossed
the lake to where the fight took place. They got out of the canoe and
he showed his wife where there were a good many dead Indians (Mohawks)
on both sides of the river. They went to work to see if they could find
their friends’ bodies. It did not take them long to do so and to bury
them the best way they could. They then started on their way home and
upon arrival spread the story and went to see the parents of the dead
ones. This ends this story.