The shimmering expanse of the great lake lay placid under a cerulean sky, reflecting the towering pines that lined its shores. Two Ojibwe fishermen, their faces etched with the wisdom of the water and the woods, skillfully guided their birchbark canoe homeward. Their paddles dipped rhythmically, creating barely a ripple on the glassy surface as they recounted the day’s catch and shared stories of the forest. Little did they know, the tranquil scene was about to be shattered, and their lives forever altered.
Suddenly, without warning, the serene atmosphere turned tumultuous. A furious wind, born from the unpredictable heart of Manitou, the Great Spirit, descended upon them. The once-placid lake transformed into a churning maelstrom, its waves rising like angry spirits, threatening to swallow their fragile vessel whole. The two fishermen, seasoned veterans of the water though they were, fought valiantly against the tempest. But the wind was relentless, pushing them farther and farther from the familiar shoreline, towards the unknown horizon.
Hours later, battered and exhausted, they finally found respite. The storm, as quickly as it had arrived, subsided, leaving behind a trail of wreckage and a heavy silence. They had been driven far off course, landing on a shore they did not recognize. Disoriented, they pulled their canoe onto the unfamiliar beach, their legs shaky as they stepped onto the foreign soil. A sense of unease settled upon them as they surveyed their surroundings.
As they began to explore, their eyes fell upon a series of colossal footprints imprinted in the damp sand. The prints were unlike anything they had ever seen, far larger than those of any bear or moose. A wave of primal fear washed over them. What manner of creature could have left such marks? The air grew thick with apprehension, and the fishermen’s hearts pounded in their chests.
Driven by an instinct for survival, they dragged their canoe deep into the dense forest, seeking refuge from the unknown. With great effort, they turned the canoe upside down, creating a makeshift shelter beneath its protective hull. Huddled together, shivering not only from the cold but also from dread, they strained their ears, listening for any sign of the creature that had left the gigantic footprints. They wondered if they would ever see their families again.
The silence was broken by a deafening crash that reverberated through the earth. The ground beneath them trembled violently. Peering cautiously from beneath the edge of their overturned canoe, they saw a massive arrow, easily the length of a grown man, embedded deep into the soil not far from their hiding place. The arrow was crafted from a wood they did not recognize, its tip honed to a razor sharpness. At that very moment, the earth quivered once more, sending tremors through their already frightened bodies.
Then, a voice, deep and resonant like the rumble of distant thunder, boomed across the forest. "Neekaunssidog (brothers), don’t be afraid. I am Giant. I will not harm you." The words, though intended to reassure, did little to calm the fishermen’s frayed nerves. The sheer magnitude of the voice only amplified their terror.
Hesitantly, with limbs trembling, they crawled out from under the relative safety of their canoe. Standing before them was a being of immense stature, a figure straight out of legend. He was indeed a Giant, his head reaching high into the forest canopy. From his belt hung the carcass of a large caribou, a testament to his hunting prowess. Despite their initial fear, the fishermen couldn’t help but notice a gentle kindness in the Giant’s eyes, a sense of peace that radiated from his very being.
Sensing that the Giant meant them no harm, and perhaps driven by a desperate hope for survival, the two fishermen cautiously agreed to accompany him to his home. The Giant, with surprising gentleness, scooped them up and placed them inside his medicine bundle, a pouch crafted from tanned hide and adorned with feathers and beads. He secured the bundle carefully and then strode off into the forest, his footsteps shaking the ground with each stride.
After what seemed like an eternity, they arrived at the Giant’s lodge, a dwelling constructed of massive logs and covered with hides. The Giant carefully removed the two fishermen from his medicine bundle and placed them inside a beautifully crafted quill box, its surface intricately decorated with porcupine quills dyed in vibrant colors. He cautioned them to remain absolutely silent.
Soon after, they heard the sound of someone entering the lodge. A gruff, menacing voice echoed through the space. "There are people here," the newcomer growled, his words laced with suspicion and hostility.
"Windigo, there is no one here," the Giant replied, his voice calm but firm.
"Yes, yes, there are people here," Windigo insisted, his voice rising in anger.
"There is no one here," the Giant repeated, his patience wearing thin. "If you don’t keep quiet, I’ll have to throw you out."
"We’ve told you not to bring people to our land. I’m going to search," Windigo declared, his tone defiant.
"Windigo," growled the Giant, "this is my home. I can bring anyone I choose here, but there is no one."
"I don’t believe you, and I’m going to search," Windigo retorted, his voice dripping with malice.
"Windigo, if you don’t leave right away, I’ll set my guard on you," the Giant threatened, his voice now laced with steel.
Windigo, heedless of the Giant’s warning, proceeded to search the lodge. Through the small gaps in the quill box, the two fishermen watched in terror as Windigo, even larger and more imposing than the Giant, rummaged through the lodge. His eyes, cold and piercing, seemed to penetrate every corner of the dwelling.
Then, they witnessed the Giant lift a large wooden bowl that had been lying upside down at his feet. From beneath the bowl emerged a creature unlike any they had ever seen. It was a four-legged animal, covered in fur, with sharp teeth and intelligent eyes. The fishermen had no name for such a beast. This is How Dog Came to Be, An Ojibwe oral story.
The Giant pointed to Windigo and commanded his pet, "Get him!" The creature, which would later be known as "dog," growled menacingly and inhaled deeply. With each breath, he grew larger and larger, his size increasing exponentially until he was truly enormous. The dog, now a fearsome behemoth, bared his fangs and let out a deafening roar. Windigo, finally realizing the gravity of his situation, fled from the lodge, the monstrous dog hot on his heels.
The Giant and the two fishermen listened intently as the sounds of groaning, growling, and fierce fighting echoed from the forest. The battle raged for what seemed like an eternity. Then, silence descended once more. Finally, the dog returned to the lodge, panting heavily. The How Dog Came to Be, An Ojibwe oral story was reaching a critical point.
Just as he had grown larger by breathing in, the dog now began to shrink as he exhaled. Slowly but surely, he diminished in size until he was no bigger than an ordinary dog. The two fishermen, witnessing this incredible transformation, were filled with wonder and awe.
Sensing their fear and confusion, the Giant spoke to them in a reassuring tone. "My brothers," he said, "don’t worry. Windigo is gone. I won’t hurt you. I just wanted to see what you were like."
"You may go home now. Since you have come a long way and have a long way to go back, my dog will keep you company on the journey and protect you." Then, turning to his pet, the Giant commanded, "Go with these men. Take them home. Watch over them." This is the core of How Dog Came to Be, An Ojibwe oral story.
The dog seemed to understand the Giant’s words, wagging his tail enthusiastically. Once again, he inhaled deeply, growing to an immense size. The Giant carefully placed the two fishermen on the dog’s back and bade them farewell.
The dog set off across the great lake. He was so tall that the water barely reached his back. It did not take him long to traverse the distance. Upon reaching the opposite shore, the dog began to exhale, shrinking rapidly until he was no larger than a fox. Then, to the fishermen’s disappointment, he ran off into the forest.
However, when the men finally reached their village, they were greeted by a familiar sight. There was the dog, happily wagging his tail, barking joyfully, and jumping up to lick their hands. How Dog Came to Be, An Ojibwe oral story shows the relationship between human and canine.
And that, according to the Ojibwe tradition, is how it has been between man and dog ever since. The dog is happy to be with his master, sad to see him leave, and overjoyed to welcome him home. The story of How Dog Came to Be, An Ojibwe oral story tells of the enduring bond of loyalty and companionship that exists between humans and their canine companions.