A story about tears that became minnows and sobs large fishes in their
place.
Once, when the sky was young and the spirits were expressing their
wishes, peals of light and thunder damaged the heavens until they were
swollen and purple. Rain fell like leaves as the victors banished the
fallen from the clouds. The vanquished were ordered to supply the empty
lakes with forms fitting their previous ways. Swimming in oblivion,
they only stopped to rest in reed beds on August days when the Great
Spirit smothered his anger.
The evil ones assumed the course of large blood fish scraping the silt
bottoms in reminder of their reduced state. All sorts of creatures--the
catfish with his whiskers to remind the new creature man of his
pre-human state and the eel and lamprey with their sharp eyes to
disclose to the world the inherent baseness of their rebellious nature.
The giant of the deep--the sturgeon--had a sucker form mouth. Every
time man lifted him across the keel of a boat he would see his
obsequious face panting to the sky.
In fact, when sturgeon or the spirit commanded to be pike were caught,
the thrash of their tails sent small tears as ripples across the lake.
These stirred sand people and minnows were born. Each sob from dying
pike's tail, doomed to a long toothy snout for her disobedience by
Manitou, formed a larger fish. In this way, fish were ever reminded of
their punishment and man kept fed.
The Indians enjoyed new food as plenteous as the grains of golden earth
on each lake's face.