The Montagnais village of the great Northern forest was large with many
fine wigwams. The village had been built in a meadow near a great lake,
and the smell of woodfires was always in the air, as the smoke curled
skyward from each wigwam. It was a busy time of year for the Montagnais
because winter would soon be upon them. Families were repairing their
homes and making new clothing for the winter months.
It was on one of these busy days that Bald Eagle informed his family
that he believed they should build a new wigwam. So the work was
organized. First Bald Eagle selected a good place to build it. Then he
scratched lines on the ground to show where the frame would be set.
Having cut saplings and put them in place, bending the ends to make
arches for the roof, he bound them together with withes made from a
peeled basswood sapling about three fingers thick that bent very easily.
The making of these withes had fallen to Sleeping Bear, Bald Eagle’s
son. It is about this job that our story is concerned.
When Sleeping Bear was asked to make the withes, he was proud. This was
the first time his father had ever asked him to do such an important
job. Dashing off into the forest, he came upon a young basswood sapling
about three fingers thick. Taking his knife from its beaded sheath, he
proceeded to cut the sapling. The flint blade of his knife did a very
neat job and he soon had the young sapling down and trimmed.
Then Sleeping Bear set to work to strip the bark from the sapling. When
he had all the bark peeled away, he dashed home to show his father what
good work he had done.
Bald Eagle smiled. “That is fine, my son, but now we must have the
withes to tie the ends of the frame together.”
Sleeping Bear squatted upon the ground and began to cut thin strips from
the basswood. He worked very carefully until he had cut a very, very
thin strip from the sapling. Then he cut another and another, until he
had a good supply. Picking them all up, he walked to where his father
was working and proudly he said:
“Here, father, are the strips you can use for withes.”
Without looking up, Bald Eagle said, “That is fine, my son. How many
have you cut for me?”
“I have cut about thirty,” said Sleeping Bear.
Bald Eagle looked up. Reaching toward his son’s outstretched hands, he
grasped the basswood strips.
“These will make very fine fishing lines, my son, but they are much too
thin for withes. You must make them thicker, so that they will hold the
frame in the position we want.” Handing the strips back to Sleeping
Bear, Bald Eagle smiled and continued to work upon the frame of the
wigwam.
Sadly, Sleeping Bear turned and headed back into the forest to find more
basswood saplings. As he walked along, he was not thinking about the
basswood, but about how foolish he had felt when his father told him
that the strips he had cut were too thin. He kicked at the pebbles and
was very angry with himself. He did not realize that he had walked quite
a distance from the village, until suddenly it got very dark.
Looking up, Sleeping Bear realized that he was close to the swamp area
and that he must have come quite a distance. Slowly, he turned and
started back along the trail looking to either side for basswood
saplings. Finally, he saw two or three set back in the forest a short
way. Leaving the trail, he reached the saplings and started to cut them
down and trim them. He had out two when there was a low growl behind
him. Turning, he saw a bear standing on his hind feet and testing the
air for scent with his snout.
Sleeping Bear was suddenly very frightened. Crouching low to the ground,
he began to edge his way toward the path again. Soon he reached the
path. Then he began to run until he was safe in the camp once again.
Dashing up to his father he stood a minute catching his breath, and then
he blurted out the story of the bear.
Bald Eagle put his arm around his son’s shoulders and said:
“You see how much trouble can be brought on by one foolish mistake? If
you had watched your father carefully, you would have known how to make
a withe the right thickness. Because you were angry, you did not look
for basswood saplings close to home, but wandered deep into the forest
and almost became the dinner of brother bear. Rushing to escape the
bear, you left your basswood saplings behind. So the task of making
withes begins all over again. Be careful, my son, that when you do
something, you do it right, or if you make a mistake, you do not waste
time brooding over it. Better to accept it and go forth to do the job
better.”
And so Sleeping Bear learned a great lesson that day.