The Story of Sault Ste. Marie and Chippewa County
By Stanley Newton
Published at Sault Ste. Marie, 1923
The Sault News Printing Company


Page 2

MAKES REAL CANOE

It was Wabish's uncle who showed the boy how to make a real canoe. Just above the rapids was a grove of birch trees, and to these the man and boy made their appeal, not in the fabled words of Hiawatha --

Lay aside your cloak, O birch-tree!
Lay aside your white-skin wrapper --

but with good sharp axes of stone. They picked the largest and smoothest trees, so that the piece of bark might be as large and clean as possible, and less sewing would be necessary. They scraped and scraped with stones the inner side of the fresh bark, just as a tanner does a hide. These great leaves of bark they brought to the squaws in the village, who sewed them with bone needles and spruce-root thread into sheets big enough to covoer the whole frame of the canoe. The boy's uncle, My een gun, The Wolf, and Wabish meanwhile made the framework of the boat from the elastic branches of cedar trees. The Wolf was the expert canoe-builder of his clan, and he kept back of his wigwam on the shore two or three rude models of canoes, around one of which he now bent the branches or ribs of Wabish's canoe.

These ribs were peeled almost unbelievably thin by The Wolf, as he explained to Wabish the prime necessity of lightness and easy carriage in a canoe. Then he fastened thin cross-pieces between the upper ends of the ribs. Wabish thought at first they were very narrow seats, much too narrow, but they served merely to give strength to the sides.

NO NAILS OR SCREWS NEEDED

In modern boats the ribs are supported by the keel, from which they stand out like branches of a tree. But Wabish's canoe had no keel, and the ribs and cross-pieces were tied necessarily to a piece of wood at the top. This strip ran all the way around the gunwale of the boat, so that, in lieu of a keel, it acted as the back bone of the canoe.

There wasn't a nail or screw in the whole affair. Everything was sewn, tied, or pitched together. And the seams, stitches and knots were so strong, so regular, firm and artistic that nails weren't needed at all. The bast of cedars made a perfect substitute.

The framework had been made in this way by the two, with much advice and some assistance by lookers-on, the bark covering was spread out on the ground and the skeleton laid over it. When the bark was pulled up over the frame the job looked for all the world like the handiwork of a cobbler upon a giant shoe, with the leather wrapped around a huge last. With great care they drew the bark sheet as tightly as possible around the frame, and turned down the edges over the gunwale strip, to which they firmly bound them. Finally, a reinforcement of birch-bark armor was fastened all along the edge, protecting in some small measure the frail craft from the coming inevitable bumps.

After this they lined the bottom of the canoe with thin strips, laid across the ribs and lengthwise of the canoe. These were vital, but for their protection even the soft moccasined foot of Wabish would have punctured the canoe bottom as if it had been paper. Birch-barks were not suited to the nailed boots of the whites, or to the carriage of thier heavy iron-shod boxes. They welcomed only the pussy-footing tread of the Indian or the soft thud of his bundles of furs.

When the women of Bowating had nothing else to do, those always found a demand for wa tap, the twisted thin split roots of the spruce. They could make either fine twine or heavy stout cords from these roots, and great quantities were used yearly at Bowating, in fishing-nets as well as the building of boats. The ropes or cords in the nets used so freely in the rapids were often fifty yards long. These strong nets resisted the action of the water for years. When laid up they became very dry and brittle, but a good damping made them supple as leather again.

Wabish's canoe was sharp, front and back, it was slightly broader in front, and the ends stood up a little. A small piece of wood was inserted in either end, to lend increased strength to the frame; and on one of these Wabish painted with infinite care, and on the other he carved with infinite labor, facsimilies of his paternal totem, the Crane. The ends of his craft he also daubed most beautifully and artistically with yellow ochre and vermilion from the south shore of Gitchi Gumi.

FILL HOLES WITH RESIN

The final process was one of pitching and repitching all the little holes, seams and stitches in the canoe. For this purpose the heated resin of the pine or fir was used freely. The weak parts of the bark, or the holes of small branches were also plastered with this water-defying resin or pitch.

Wabish paddled his canoe in much the same manner as Charon propelled his bark on the rive Styx, or as men and women have used paddles in small boats the world over. His paddle was short and broad, made of cedar, light and tough. But on long water-joourneys he carried paddles of hard maple, alternately kneeling on the fur-covered strips, or sitting on the small seat slung from the stiffened gunwale by thongs of rawhide.

Wabish's first canoe accommodated two people. It lasted four years because he took great care of it. After he became proficient in canoe making he waxed careless, and sometimes a canoe lasted him but a moon or two. Then, too, he was forever shooting the rapids, and forever getting nicked there. When this happened he found it wise to seek the shore without undue delay. Sometimes he brought his craft to the beach; occasionally the knife-thin bark took water so quickly that it sank beneath him and he had to swim for it. That meant another canoe, generally a better and more elaborate one.

CANOES LIGHT AND GRACEFUL

Nothing could exceed the lightness and grace of Wabish's canoes in the water, or their ease of carriage out of it. Each was

Like a yellow leaf of autumn,
Like a yellow water-lily,
And the forest's life was in it,
All its mystery and magic,
All the lightness of the birch-tree,
All the toughness of the cedar,
All the larch's supple sinews.

Wabish realized this, and gave great praise to Manibosho, who was the real inventor of the birch-bark canoe who bestowed it upon the Chippewas thousands of years ago. This act of invention he was able to visualize much more clearly after he visited Manitoulin Island, and saw there the very rocks between which Manibosho had built the first canoe, and upon which he had hung it up to dry after pitching. Truly, Manibosho confirmed his friendship for the red man when he brought down the bark canoe. What other appliance is there that equals the bird in its swift flight over the water, that can be so easily transported around the portage or over the divide, or, turned bottom up on the beach, that affords so perfect a shelter when camping out on a rainy night?

You may be sure that when Wabish and his compeers went on a long canoe journey, a part of the outfit was a supply of pitch. When the Evil Spirits in the submerged rocks split the fragile bottom with a touch, the canoe was beached, unloaded and reversed. Then the pitch was heated and poured over the crack in the bark until it was well sealed, upon which the voyage could be resumed in safety.

RIVER WAS A DELIGHT

What a delight were the long, long, lazy summer days on the beautiful river! When the Hot Moon of June had come and gone, and the mosquitoes, black flies and no-see-ums had reveled in their brief day, then Wabish and his friends, bereft of all care and fancy-free fared forth on the broad and placid bosom of their foster-mother.

The river we call St. Mary's -- it is really a strait -- the Chippewas named Gitchi Gumi Sippi, the River of the Great Lake. They knew it for a powerful outpour of water dividing here and there into broad arms which separated, united and divided again. Repeatedly these arms collected in large pools, almost lakes, dreaming calm in the summer sun; but these again shot in narrow passages from one lake to another, thus forming several rapids. And every passage was fringed and girdled by a maze of lovely islands, large and small.

Canoe voyages in this wild water labyrinth were exquisite indeed. The shores of the islands and mainlands were covered with dense forests of hardwoods and conifers, whose bright and dark greens met the eye in pleasing contrast. On the eastern side the Algoma Mountains came down to meet the lake and halted there, having been torn away by Manibosho to give the mighty lake above a chance to breathe and to escape southward. These heights, too, were tossing with massed woods, and here and there the naked primeval Laurentian rock made hard faces at Gitchi Gumi Sippi and stuck its black tongues into the mocking stream.

It was a vast country, where distances were long, and where Nature preformed on a big scale. some of the islands in the river were as large as an English County. England itself could have been sunk in Gitchi Gumi without raising the water very much. And there were countless other islands as small as the floor of a wigwam, and in some places the roving Indians found themselves surrounded by tiny islets on which there was scarcely room for a tree.

IN PRIMITIVE STATE

All these islands and shores were then in a state of primitive savageness. Their interior was uninhabited and uncultivated, and so covered with rocks and swamps, fallen trees and rotting stumps that the bears could not wish for a better thicket. Even the nearest hill-tops, protected by this tangled wilderness, had never endured the foot of man. The river's easy highway led to many a hospitable beach, where fishing was good and an occasional runway brought the deer down to drink and be captured. Even as a youthful bowman Wabish could drive his flint-headed arrows clean through the bodies of the flying deer.

Oh ta gee zig, a handsome, burly Indian hereditary chief, who must have been about 30 years of age when Wabish was born, was the friend, hero and mentor of Wabish in his boyhood days. Oh ta gee zig had been born at noon, hence his name, meaning "half a day." Once upon a time Oh ta had strangled a bear with his two hands, a deed that won him great renown. On ceremonial days he wore twelve feathers in his hair. Each feather meant the death of a Sioux in battle. Oh ta was of the Owl totem, and his camp-fire on the river bank at Bowating was a favorite resorting place of the boy Wabish and his chums. Right cheerfully it burned of a summer evening, where the bicentennial monument stands now.

Did you ever hear of the story of the first man and woman? asked Oh ta of the group of Indians around his fire one evening. He was a famous story teller, especially when his piep of kinnikinnick was drawing well.

Tell it to us, "said Wabish and his friend Ka ba konse, a brother of the Crane.

"You must know," began Oh ta, "that Gitchi Manito, The Great Spirit, made first the land aboout Bowating and along the south shore of Gitchi Gumi. At first there was nothing here but sand and rocks, and the rapids were away up at Nad o way an ing, the Place of the Iroquois. This was long before Manibosho trapped beavers there.

THE CHIPPEWA STORY OF CREATION

"One day Manito was walking along here when he saw something lying on the ground, and he picked it up. It was a tiny root. He wondered whether it would grow, and he planted it on the river bank, close to the water. When he came back next day a lot of shoots had sprung up, and the wind blowing through them made a pleasant sound. This pleased him, and he sought for and found more little roots and some seeds from the soil, and he spread them around, so that they soon covered the rocks and land with grass and fine forests, in which birds and other animals came to live. Every day he added something new to his creation, and he did not forget to place various kinds of fish in the water. But the best fish of all, the at ti ma kaig, the deer-of-the-water, the whitefish, came long after.

"Another day when Manito was walking near this place, he saw something coming out of the water, covered with glistening scales like a fish, but formed like a man. Watching it further, Manito saw it stoop and pluck herbs, which it swallowed. It sighed and groaned, but did not speak.

"The sight filled Manito with compassion, and a good thought occurred to him. Immediately he set to work to provide this forlorn being with a squaw. He formed her nearly as he had seen the man to be and also covered her body with scales. Then he breathed a little of his life into her and set her feet upon the bank, telling her that if she would walk along the shore and look about her she might find something to please her.

HE DISCOVERS THE WOMAN

"At first neither saw the other, and the woman, after wandering about for awhile, sat down beside a log and fell asleep. Presently the man spied her footsteps in the sand, and following them he approached her timidly. He found his voice as he touched her gently on the shoulder and asked:

"Who art thou?" Whence came you?'

"My name is Mani, she replied. Gitchi Manito brought me here, telling me I should find something here I like. I think thou art the rpomised one.'

"I think so too,' said the man. 'On what dost thou live?'

"'I have eaten nothing, for I was looking for thee. But now I feel hungry. Hast thou anything to eat?'

"Straitway the man hurried to collect some roots and herbs that he had found edible. He brought them to the squaw, who devoured them greedily.

"Again the sight moved Manito to pity, and in the twinkling of an eye he built a handsome wigwam for them, with a splendid garden beside it, in which grew many plants and berries, and trees of various kinds. Here they lived happily for many days, and Gitchi Manito came often to converse with them.

"'Let me warn you against one thing,' he told them. 'See this tree in the middle of the garden is not good, for it was planted here by Matchi Manito, the Spirit of Evil. See how it blossoms, presently it will bear fruits, and they will look very fine and taste very sweet. But do not eat of them, or death shall be thy portion.'

"You may believe that they paid attention to this formidable warning, and they kept the command a long time, even when the blossoms passed and the fruit was ripened. One day, however, when Mani was walking alone in the garden, she heard a friendly and musical voice calling, 'Mani, why dost thy not eat of this beautiful fruit? It tastes splendidly. Started, she looked around, but saw no one. She was afraid, and hurried into the house.

THE TEMPTER COMES

"Next day she went again into the garden, being curious to hear the voice again. When she approached the forbidden tree it sounded: 'Mani, Mani, taste this splendid fruit, it will gladden they heart!' And with this a young and handsome Indian came out of the bushes, plucked some fruit and placed it in her hand. 'Eat,' he said. It looked so good, and smelled so good, that she promptly ate it up and more with it. The young Indian, who was of course the agent of Matchi Manito, disappeared, and when her husband came soon after, she persuaded him to eat also. But scarcely had he swallowed the fruit she gave him when the silver scales fell off their bodies; only twenty scales remained to each, ten on the fingers and ten on the toes, but these lost their brillancy. They saw themselves quite uncovered, and were ashamed and withdrew into the bushes.

"Then came the angry Gitchi Manito, and said: 'Did I not tell you to abstain from the wiles of Matchi Manito? You have disobeyed, and presently death shall come upon you. These poor uncovered physical frames of yours shall perish, but the life that is in you shall live in your children and their descendants. Begone from my garden!'

"So they went forth in banishment. But Manito loved them and had mercy on them. He gave the man a bow and some arrows, and showed him how to shoot deer, and told Mani how to prepare the meat on them, and how to make clothing and moccasins of the hides.

THEY LEAVE THE GARDEN

"So Mani and her husband left the garden, the man trying his bow and arrows. being not yet practiced in their use he shot into the sand, and the arrows went thus deep into the ground."

Here Oh ta picked up an arrow, thrust it into the earth and withdrew it with his thumb on the shaft, showing to each one there separately how deep the arrow had gone in, saying, "see, so far." They looked at it carefully and said, "good, now go on." Oh ta proceeded:

"So Mani's husband went out to hunt, saw a deer and shot an arrow at it. The animal sank on its knees and died.

"The hunter ran up and drew his arrow from the wound, found it uninjured and placed it in his quiver to be used again. When he brought the deer to his squaw she cut it into pieces and washed them, laying the hide aside for moccasins and clothing. Then she sensed the need of fire, for they could not eat the meat raw as the barbarous Kiristinons of the north do.

"This demand for fire stumped the man for a time, but finally the thought came to him to rub against each other a piece of hardwood and one of softwood, and he soon had a bright fire for his squaw.

BECAME A MEDICINE MAN

"After that Mani's husband killed many deer, and soon they had plenty of clothing and bedding, and his squaw built a fine lodge for him. One day while out hunting he found a birch-bark book lying under a tree. While he was looking at the book it spoke to him in the pure Ojibway language, instructing him in the use of every plant in the forest and the meadow. Delighted, he put the book in his hunting-bag and collected all the plants, roots, flowers and herbs which it pointed out to him. With these he returned to Mani, and found they were all good medicine, good in every accident and sickness in life. So in this way he became a great medicine man as well as a mighty hunter. The children his wife bore him became great hunters also. He taught them to use the bow, explained to them the medicine book, which never talked to anyone but him, and told them the history of his and Mani's creation. And through them the true story of the Ojibways has come down to us."

"What was Mani's husband's name, Oh ta?" asked Wabish.

"That was not revealed to us," replied Oh ta, as he tamped his pipe with a finger and looked very wise. "And anyway, it was the woman who made all the trouble."

"Who revealed to the Chippewas that Gitchi Manito lived here? inquired Miz ye, the Cat-Fish. Miz ye was a captive Sioux boy, a slave, a friend to everybody, and he had the freedom of the village. "I always though Gitchi Manito lived at Torch Lake, many days journey toward the setting sun," he said.

"You thought wrong," replied Oh ta, "and I'll prove it to you. In the first place Manibosho told us about the Great Spirit, when he had recreated the world and the Chippewa nation after the flood. But see here. WE know that Gitchi Manito lives now in the great rock temple on Michilimackinac, don't we?"

"Certainly," they chorused.

STARTED FROM SAULT

"And we know he flew from the north, through the great curved stone door on the beach, don't we?"

"Oh, yes."

"Well, then that's it. Don't you see, he started from here." Oh ta looked triumphantly from face to face in the circle.

"Maybe he came from beyond Gitchi Gumi somewhere," suggested somebody doubtfully.

No, no, no," Oh ta replied positively. "Do you think the Great Spirit would ever live in the wreched land of the Kiristinons, where it is always cold, and where the people wander about half-starved from place to place, and eat their meat and raw fish? It is impossible. We are his people, and the people of the great Manibosho."

"Was Manibosho here then?" another inquired.

"No, he came to us after Gitchi Manito withdrew to his temple. Many moons ago Manibosho leved on earth and was a great War Chief of the Chippewas, and the Ottawas, the Hurons and the Potawatomies as well. Once, when the winter was cold and windy, with deep snows, the INdians had great trouble in keeping their wigwam-fires alight. Seeing them so forlorn and cold, Manibosho brought down fire from heaven, causing the lightning to strike a great tree and set it glowing. From this tree came the sacred fire whcih the Potawatomies keep ever burning in their head jossakeed's lodge on the shores of Lake Meetch i gong. This is our time-honored council fire; and whenever the tribes meet ceremonially in the north country, we sent to the Potawatomies for the sacred fire and bring it carefully guarded to our council seat. For to tell lies in the presence of that fire is impossible. Animosities die down before it, peace and harmony must prevail where burns the fire from heaven. So we gather before it only when meeting with our allies, never before going on the war-path.

HEAVENLY FIRE IS LOST