Story 1
A Bear is Born
Northern Michigan, August 24, 1858
NIBEQUA GRIPPED THE SAPLING HARD and forced her birthing muscles to press downward. Her breath came in short, deep pants when the pain hit her, then in grunts when it let go. Her thoughts, through all of this, were centered on one thing: If the child would only come now—now while the strange light crossed the sky, now while Father Sun and Grandmother Moon spoke to one another face to face.
There had not been such an auspicious time for a birth since far back in the memory of the People. If this child of the Bear Clan should be born now, the entire village—no, the entire Clan—would know her as a blessing.
Her, for Nibequa knew her own body well and the way it carried children. This one—the last from a woman grown old in bearing and raising children—this one would be the strongest of all.
If she lived. If Nibequa had enough life left to raise her.
Pain gripped Nibequa’s body yet one more time as fear gripped her heart. She knew the specter of the Shauganosh’s boarding schools loomed in front of this child to come. She also knew if this ominous ghost took form, her baby would be only one of many forced to leave their Odawa homes and their Odawa ways of Knowing. Then what would happen to the seven generations to follow them? Who would be left to keep the old wonders and the old ways?
Vision told her this child would know. The Guides within the Vision showed her the wisdom and the strength of this woman to be, and Nibequa understood how. Nibequa vowed within the Vision happening around her the child would be born if Spirit would have it so.
The medicine woman agreed with her when she shared the Vision. Gashkitoon was the only Elder who did. Yes, there was the threat of removal hanging over the Odawa’s heads. Other tribes were being forced from their lands, were they not? Yet most of the Elders in Wauganauksi were convinced the Shauganosh would not make the effort to push the Odawa People from the land.
The Elders well knew greed stood as the impetus for such actions. A simple logic followed. The land of Wauganauksi had nothing worthy of a Shauganosh’s greed. The vast forests, the wide lakes, the many rivers were the life of the Anishnabe. The Shauganosh did not speak this language, and could hear no sound of profit in them.
Still, there was talk; talk of the land itself now under Shauganosh control, talk of how the People could be forced from the land as many of the Clans to the south had been.
And how could the People live without the rice, and the blueberries, and the sweet sap of aninatig? The thought of such a horrendous loss wrenched Nibequa as sharply as the birth pangs. The People fought for these lands against both the Sioux and the Iroquois, driving them back again and again to protect their precious food sources.
If the Shauganosh tried to force the Odawa out, there would be another battle. All knew this battle could not be won. Yet the People would fight to stay among these brothers and sisters they knew and respected.
Nibequa panted against the hard labor, sweating in the heat of the Minomin Moon. This child’s borning came with more difficulty than any of her others. It was much more painful, it was taking a great deal longer, and it was sapping her of needed strength.
These things told the small woman the coming of the child’s spirit could well mean the leaving of her own. The understanding only made her the more determined to bring its spirit forth. This child, this spirit who now lived in this child, had to be born. The Odawa People needed Warriors now. Vision told her they needed the kind of Warrior that was struggling in her birth canal the most of all.
“You will not die borning!” her heart promised the spirit. “Though it takes the last of my strength to drive you out, you will live!”
Nibequa pushed through the next contraction with a more powerful surge of strength. She had thought to hold this kind of force in reserve. Her wisdom and experience told her she must always hold something aside in a birthing, something that would leave her the physical ability to care for the child after the birth. She knew, now, it was unlikely there would be much ‘after’ for her. Knowing it, she gave what was supposed to be held toward healing after the birthing effort.
Suddenly the howl of a wolf caught at Nibequa’s hearing and broke into her concentration. Fear slashed at her soul one more time. The howl told her the wolves were scenting blood. This meant there would be little time to both birth the child and get it to safety.
Nibequa usually did not fear the wolves. Her instincts and her wisdom kept her from placing herself in their path. Her home and the strong hunters around her protected her from them when such was not possible. The voices in her Vision moved her beyond her instincts, her wisdom, and the strength of the hunters. They led her here to this sacred place within the vast wilderness where she was alone and unprotected by any, save the Spirits.
Too late she remembered how the Elders cautioned her against going alone to such a place at such a time.
“You seek to guide the will of the Guardians,” they told her. “This is not good.”
Nibequa gave a respectful ear to the comments at the time, but she did not heed the advice. This was not the first time she had refused to do so. Nine months earlier there was similar talk concerning the age of child bearing women and the wisdom of conceiving in the middle years.
The Path these Elders wished to lay out for her was a good one. The small Odawa woman knew this. Yet she also knew the care and wisdom of the Guide within her. The conflict between the two ways left her little choice. She would follow the Path within her soul even though it could mean her own death.
Vision gave her a destination. A sign gave her light, literally, to show her the way toward it. What else could the strange brightness in the sky be called? How else should she look upon the timing of the conception of this child be called? She and Mashkawah joined together that first night after her Vision. It seemed auspicious to do so.
The beginning of this child within her convinced them both they were right. From that time until now it seemed as though the light followed her, guided her, led her on as the child grew within her. The light burst into physical form only weeks after the child moved in her womb. The new star traveled across the skies from that time until this.
When the birth pangs began this day, Nibequa knew it was likely the child would also be born while Father Sun and Grandmother Moon spoke—born for both of these beloved Beings to see her, and to speak of her, perhaps to take her under Their protection and guidance. Sacred times affected this child. Where else should the child be born, then, except in a sacred place?
Nibequa knew all was as it should be, but the wolves still filled her with fear. She knew these would not be the gaunt starvelings of the Geese Returns Moon. Desperation would not be upon them, but sloth would. It was well known these lazy ones would grab off anything weak or helpless whenever they had the chance. For a time, right after the birth, she and the child would be both.
The powerful woman did not fear for herself in this. Her life already belonged to the People. She did fear, desperately, for the coming child. Panic began to follow fear, but Nibequa’s inner strength rose up and brushed it away. She knew panic did not win battles. When a body became as weak as hers was now, thinking and skill were the only weapons left.
The Bear Clan woman looked around for a weapon. She spied the dikinagan and relaxed. The cradleboard was a strong one. Mashkawah built well, and this was one of his best works. Nibequa was confident it would not break from delivering a blow to a wolf’s head. Who could say the same for a branch?
The muscle contractions pushed yet again. This time they pushed much harder and Nibequa with it. It was then Nibequa looked out of the corner of her eye to see how close Grandmother Moon was to Father Sun. Her mind took in the distance, and her being knew the two were close enough to be speaking to one another. Her weary body also told her the birth had to be soon—soon enough for the blessing, soon enough for the child to be delivered alive—
“One. . . more. . .” Nibequa gasped. “One more!” For one more push was all she had left.
Nibequa felt the baby move with the contraction. As the moon slipped slowly into the face of the sun, she also felt the child slip from her body. The exhausted woman caught the child and breathed life into her. She cut the chord between them and set it into the cradling branches of the cedar tree behind her. She knew the child would need its protective powers; knew those who found it with her would see to the making of this medicine with it.
The woman’s mind turned back to the baby. She was alive. She was kicking strongly and fussing, letting both of the Spirit Beings in the sky know she existed and was in Their care. Nibequa smiled at the life and the strength of her child. She took a moment to revel in it just before the howl of the wolf snatched her attention away from it.
The sound startled her, but it did not shake her. A plan was in place to deal with this thing. It was not much of a plan, but it was all that she had. She reached for the dikinagan with one hand, keeping her eyes on the crest of the dune in front of her. With her other hand she wrapped the new born baby in the small robe brought to hold her in the dikinagan. Then she placed the baby atop her birthing chord in the moss covered center of the tree holding it.
“Nokomis Geshik,” she prayed softly. “She is yours!”
The wolves bounded over the dune as the prayer was uttered. Nibequa had no time then to do anything but swing the dikinagan with whatever strength she had left. Her first attack connected with the lead wolf’s head. She heard it yip in pain as another moved in on her from an angle to her right. This one sneaked in to grab what it could while a third moved in from the left, harrying her. Now slinking in, now jumping back, the wolves used their age-old battle tactics to wear her down.
They knew, as she did, she would falter soon. Then they would have both mother and child. Nibequa fought anyway. While she still could, she stood as strong as a mother bear and defied them, catching one or another of them a sound blow whenever their audacity moved them close enough.
“You will fight the Shaugonosh just so, binogin!” she thought to the baby. “Your heart will be strong, and you will stand to protect your People as I stand to protect you!”
It was only minutes into the battle, but Nibequa was already staggering to her knees. She knew before this battle began the blood from her daughter’s birth would also be the blood of her death. She only regretted her inability to be a better protector.
Once, twice, she stumbled to her knees, still swinging as she went down. Once, twice, she fought to grab back that bit of advantage, each time dealing a blow to the eager enemy who harassed her.
The third time she went down she knew she would not get up. One of the bolder ones lunged in as she fell and caught her arm just below the shoulder. The impact of its teeth and its hurtling body drove her into the ground, and though she fought it, she knew she was done.
“Mukwa!” she whispered, “Your child! Protect your child!”
There was no time for more. The blackness took Nibequa into itself and left her with no time for more of anything.
