Seton - The Snowstorm - Keeping the Public in Public Domain

As I write this the first real taste of winter's snow seems to be approaching. (It's timing during Thanksgiving travels is especially drawing the attention of meteorologists.) The founder of the Boy Scouts, Ernest Thompson Seton, in his book, Woodland Tales, offers stories and activities throughout the seasons. Yes, winter and snow get its share of attention. The book is almost over when he tells this tale of how a snowstorm is viewed by different cultures. 

In retelling this story I would substitute a few things to make them tell a bit more. I would say an Inuit from Alaska for "Eskimo" and would add "the Inuit word 'Siqniq' for him."  As for "an Indian", the talk of "Nana-bo-jou" shows it is a child who is an Anishinaabe.

 Photo by ak-girl on Freeimages.com

TALE 100
The Snowstorm

It was at the great winter Carnival of Montreal not long ago. Looking out of a window on a stormy day were five children of different races: an Eskimo, a Dane, a Russian, an Indian, and a Yankee. The managers of the Carnival had brought the first four with their parents; but the Yankee was the son of a rich visitor.

"Look," cried the little Eskimo from Alaska, as he pointed to the driving snow. "Look at the ivory chips falling! El Sol is surely carving a big Walrus tusk into a fine dagger for himself. See how he whittles, and sends the white dust flying."

Of course he didn't say "El Sol," but used the Eskimo name for him.

Then the Dane said: "No, that isn't what makes it. That is Mother Earth getting ready for sleep. Those are the goose feathers of her feather bed, shaken up by her servants before she lies down and is covered with her white mantle."

The little Indian, with his eyes fixed on the storm, shook his head gravely and said: "My father taught me that these are the ashes from Nana-bo-jou's pipe; he has finished his smoke and is wrapping his blanket about him to rest. And my father always spake true."

"Nay, you are all wrong," said the little Russian. "My grandmother told me that it is Mother Carey. She is out riding in her strongest, freshest steed, the White Wind. He has not been out all summer; he is full of strength and fury; he spumes and rages. The air is filled with the foam from his bridle, and froth from his shoulders, as she rides him, and spurs him, and rides him. I love to see it, and know that she is filling the air with strength and with messages. They carry me back to my own dear homeland. It thrills me with joy to see the whiteness."

But the Yankee boy said: "Why, it's just snowing."

*********

The story tends to end abruptly and should sit there, letting the many wonderful views contrast with the rich Yankee boy's view of  "it's just snowing." 

May your own views of the season include stories!

********************** 

This is part of a series of postings of stories under the category, “Keeping the Public in Public Domain.” The idea behind Public Domain was to preserve our cultural heritage after the authors and their immediate heirs were compensated. I feel strongly current copyright law delays this intent on works of the 20^th century. My own library of folklore includes so many books within the Public Domain I decided to share stories from them. I hope you enjoy discovering them.

At the same time, my own involvement in storytelling regularly creates projects requiring research as part of my sharing stories with an audience.  Whenever that research needs to be shown here, the publishing of Public Domain stories will not occur that week.  This is a return to my regular posting of a research project here.  (Don't worry, this isn't dry research, my research is always geared towards future storytelling to an audience.)  Response has convinced me that "Keeping the Public in Public Domain" should continue along with my other postings as often as I can manage it.

See the sidebar for other Public Domain story resources I recommend on the page “Public Domain Story Resources."

 

Indigenous Peoples' Day or Columbus Day?

 

boroughofwenonah.com

The second Monday in October is a Federal Holiday in the United States. The question of what it should be called, however, is a question that, for now, will be unsettled. Historyoftheholiday.com does an excellent job of discussing how the 20th century holiday, Columbus Day, has begun to transition to Indigenous Peoples' Day. 

I couldn't have said it better than that site explains it! 

Another well-written look specifically at Indigenous Peoples' Day is this is from the October Michigan D.A.R. newsletter:

Indigenous Peoples’ Day is October 13, 2025. It’s a great time to immerse yourself in the history and culture of Michigan’s 12 federally recognized tribes and 4 state recognized tribes. 

Visit a museum! These are just a few of Michigan’s museums offering excellent information on the rich histories and cultures of American Indians in our state; Ziibiwing Center in Mt. Pleasant, Besser Museum in Alpena, Andrew J. Blackbird Museum in Harbor Springs, Potawatomi Heritage Center in Wilson, Museum of Ojibwa Culture in St. Ignace. 

Attend a powwow! On October 13, 2025 go the Indigenous Peoples’ Day Powwow at Hart Plaza in Downtown Detroit – the first powwow hosted in 30 years! The powwow is open to the public and there will be dancing, singing, and plenty of delicious food. 

National American Indian Heritage Month starts on November 1^st. It is a month-long celebration and a time for education and awareness of the many contributions of American Indians in our country. The 2025 BIA theme for the month is “Weaving together our past, present and future”. ***

The month was formally designated inespecially 1990 by President George H. W. Bush, who proclaimed November as National American Indian Heritage Month. Legislation was signed in 2009 by President Barack Obama to permanently designate the Friday after Thanksgiving as Native American Heritage Day. 

This is a time to honor the diverse cultures, histories, and importance of American Indian communities, to educate the public about the challenges Indigenous people have encountered, and to acknowledge and support the many tribes in our country. 

*** Actually that was chosen for 2024. The Bureau of Indian Affairs has not chosen a theme for 2025 and the current government shutdown has https://www.bia.gov not being updated.

If you wonder which of the two is celebrated "offiffiffic'ally" where you are, the Pew Research Center has the answers including "Depending on where in the United States you live and for whom you work, Columbus Day may be a paid day off, an unpaid commemorative day, another holiday entirely or a regular Monday."

Looking at yet another site, academickids.com so well says: 

 While the two holidays have different focuses, they share a date and often spark discussions about history, exploration, and the importance of understanding multiple perspectives.

Of course I want to share the stories of our Michigan (and beyond into the Great Lakes Region, including up into Canada) People of the Three Fires (the Anishinaabe), the Ojibwe, Odawa, and Potawatomi. For now I will let the dust settle on this and wait until November.

Judd - Story of the Deluge - Keeping the Public in Public Domain

Some have complained that the poster of the picture of a happy Jesus welcoming girls from Camp Mystic is AI generated "exploiting the death of children using ai to gain internet clout by the original poster who is scamming the public!" I'm keeping it up on my Facebook page because, whatever its origins, it certainly fits the other side of this tragic flooding in Texas. 

I certainly recommend comparing today's story from the Anishinaabe tradition (gathered from the Minnesota area around the end of the 19th century) with the Bible's (Genesis chapters 6-9). It is said all the world's earliest traditions tell of a Great Flood. Mary Catherine Judd in Wigwam Stories not only tells "The Story of the Deluge", but includes photos from the era including a traditional wigwam used to travel to hunting grounds. Whether in such a temporary home or winter wigwam lodges, the people of the Great Lakes region did not live in tipis. It's easy to think of this story being told around a campfire. 

Chippewa Indian’s Summer Wigwam

Before beginning "The Story of the Deluge", the "hero" of this story has a name that changes slightly depending on local dialect. I know him as Nanabazhoo. Judd explains a bit about him when she says:

 The old myths of years ago are repeated in Indian homes, and many of the stories, like those told in the poem of Hiawatha, are familiar tales to little children in western teepees. Hiawatha the Wise we now know is an Iroquois hero; Menabozho, who is called the Foolish or Sly One, is an Algonquin hero, and they are two very different characters in the lore of two different Indian nations. Hiawatha the Iroquois is always dignified; Menabozho the Algonquin is very powerful but full of boyish tricks.

STORY OF THE DELUGE

(Chippewa, 1900)

enabozho, the great land manitou, did not like the water manitous or spirits. One day he saw the chief of the water manitous asleep on a rock, and he shot and killed him with a magic arrow; then the little water manitous called the big rivers to help them and chased Menabozho up a high hill.

The water reached halfway up the hill; the water manitous called all the little rivers then to help them. The water chased Menabozho to the top of the high hill. He climbed up a tall pine tree, but the water came up to his chin; it could not go over his head, for there is not water enough in the whole world to drown the great Menabozho.

He waited a long time while he stood on the top of the pine tree. The rivers would not go back, and he could not see any land.

A loon flew over his head and then dived into the great water. Menabozho said: “Brother Loon, come to me. I must make land for us to stand on. Will you dive down and bring me a little sand?”

The loon put down his head and went through the deep water, but it was too deep even for the great loon-bird. He came up again, but he had left his breath in the deep water. Menabozho caught him as he floated by the pine tree, but he found no sand in his bill nor on his feet.

An otter put his head out of the water close by Menabozho.

“Brother Otter, dive down and bring me up a few grains of sand. We must have land to put our feet upon.”

The otter knew he must do as Menabozho told him, so he put his head down into the deep water. He came up, but he had no life any more, and Menabozho could not find any sand in his paws.

A muskrat came swimming by just then. “Brother Muskrat, you are very brave. Will you dive down to the sand under this deep water and bring me a few grains? I must make land for my brothers,” said Menabozho.

The muskrat was brave, for he dived down, but he came up just like the otter. He had no more life, but he had a little sand in one front paw.

Menabozho held the sand in his own hand and dried it in the sunshine. He blew it with his breath far out on the water, and it made a little island. Menabozho called the sand back to him. He dried it in his hand again and then blew it to its place on the deep water. He did this for two days, and the island grew larger every time it was sent back. Menabozho left the tree and walked on the land.

He called to his brothers, who are the trees, animals, and everything on the land, to come and live on this land. The water had to go back to its place.

*******

While it is worthwhile to look at the Biblical and traditional roots of the Deluge story, I agree completely with Gary Struth about the recent devastating floods when he posted:

Mental health professionals have told us that the absolute worst way to lose a child is when the cause of death is sudden and violent. This horrific tragedy was BOTH.

Texans, Americans, and people around the world ... I encourage you to NOT FORGET the grieving families of Kerr County. Their pain and anguish will be long lasting. Please, pray for them. If you are able to give to their physical needs, I hope you'll do that. In this sad season, when they are weak, let us be strong, for them.

***************************** 

This is part of a series of postings of stories under the category, “Keeping the Public in Public Domain.” The idea behind Public Domain was to preserve our cultural heritage after the authors and their immediate heirs were compensated. I feel strongly current copyright law delays this intent on works of the 20^th century. My own library of folklore includes so many books within the Public Domain I decided to share stories from them. I hope you enjoy discovering them.

At the same time, my own involvement in storytelling regularly creates projects requiring research as part of my sharing stories with an audience.  Whenever that research needs to be shown here, the publishing of Public Domain stories will not occur that week.  This is a return to my regular posting of a research project here.  (Don't worry, this isn't dry research, my research is always geared towards future storytelling to an audience.)  Response has convinced me that "Keeping the Public in Public Domain" should continue along with my other postings as often as I can manage it.

See the sidebar for other Public Domain story resources I recommend on the page “Public Domain Story Resources."

 

Olcott - Why Wild Roses Have Thorns - Keeping the Public in Public Domain

With summer days being enveloped in clouds from the Canadian wildfires, it may be tempting to stay indoors. The very area where these fire originate has a story about a wildflower that sometimes catches us -- quite literally -- and how it came to have thorns.

Today's story is from the Saulteaux, also Anishinaabe, who spread out from here in the Great Lakes to western Canada. The tale itself is found in Frances Jenkins Olcott's The Red Indian Fairy Book. While the book title might seem disrespectful in today's terminology, her retelling fits perfectly with the way I've heard elders tell Anishinaabe tales. 

 

May the firefighters win their battle so we may safely enjoy the beauties of nature. As my friend, the elder Simon Otto, who has gone on the Long Walk, would say "May you Walk in Peace."

 

********************** 

This is part of a series of postings of stories under the category, “Keeping the Public in Public Domain.” The idea behind Public Domain was to preserve our cultural heritage after the authors and their immediate heirs were compensated. I feel strongly current copyright law delays this intent on works of the 20^th century. My own library of folklore includes so many books within the Public Domain I decided to share stories from them. I hope you enjoy discovering them.

At the same time, my own involvement in storytelling regularly creates projects requiring research as part of my sharing stories with an audience.  Whenever that research needs to be shown here, the publishing of Public Domain stories will not occur that week.  This is a return to my regular posting of a research project here.  (Don't worry, this isn't dry research, my research is always geared towards future storytelling to an audience.)  Response has convinced me that "Keeping the Public in Public Domain" should continue along with my other postings as often as I can manage it.

See the sidebar for other Public Domain story resources I recommend on the page “Public Domain Story Resources."

Cowles - Why the Wind Wails - Keeping the Public in Public Domain

The only rule for weather predictions for most locations is that it will change. . . and it definitely has!

We may not have received the nation's worst, but Michigan, especially the west and north, is bad enough. Erie Pennsylvania, your residents must love winter. Since winter and cold are my least favorite time of year, anybody there who doesn't love winter has my sympathy.

We had been having above normal weather and I was foolish enough to think that was a trend!

Julia Darrow Cowles and her book Indian Nature Myths hasn't been here in years -- their posting here spans from 2013 - 2017. That first story back in 2013 was before I found ways to reproduce pages better than a simple scan of my own books. That first story was her retelling of the Schoolcraft tale, "How the Seasons Came to Be." Definitely appropriate now. I suggest going to the book listed above at Project Gutenberg as the entire book is a treat for nature lovers.

Cowles notes the nations responsible for her stories, often the Anishinaabe (listing as Ojibwa or Chippewa) but several, including today's story, are merely attributed to the Algonquian. Our area's native people are part of that larger group and stories do travel. For more about the Algonquian peoples go to that link to understand this most populous and widespread North American indigenous North American group. Cowles briefly mentioned such story traveling in her Preface.

Wind chills have made the weather transition particularly brutal, so this Algonquin story is on my mind as the wind howls or it invisibly tries to beat me.

WHY THE WIND WAILS

(Algonquin)

WHEN the pale moon looks down from the sky, and when the wind cries mournfully around the wigwam, this is the story that the old man of the tribe tells to the Indian children:

Many, many moons ago the great chief of our tribe had a very beautiful daughter.

“She shall marry a great warrior,” said the Chief, “and a mighty hunter. Then she will be well cared for, and I shall be happy.”

So the great Chief kept watch of the young men of the tribe, to see which one would prove worthy of his daughter.

One day, as the Chief sat in the door of his lodge, there came a sudden rushing sound, and a young man stood before him. It was the Wind, who had made himself visible that he might talk with the Chief.

When he had saluted, he said, “Great Chief, I love your daughter. May I carry her away to my lodge, and make her my wife?”

The Chief looked at the Wind, and he answered, “No. My daughter is not for such as you. You are no warrior. You are no hunter. You love to play pranks. You cannot marry my daughter.”

So the Wind went away sorrowing, for he loved the Indian maiden.

The next day the maiden came to her father and said, “Father, I love the Wind better than any young warrior of our tribe. May I go to his lodge, and be his wife?”

The Chief looked at his daughter and said, “No. The Wind is no mate for you. He is no warrior. He is no hunter. He loves only to play pranks. You cannot marry him.”

The maiden went away sorrowing, for she loved the Wind.

The next day when the maiden went out to gather sweet marsh grass for her basket weaving, she heard a sudden rushing sound above her head. She looked up, and as she looked the Wind swept down and carried her in his arms far away to his lodge.

There they lived happily together, for the maiden became his wife. But the great Chief was full of wrath. He hunted through all the land for the lodge of the Wind, but he could not find it for many moons. Still he would not give up the search, for his heart was hot with wrath.

One day the Wind heard a great crashing sound among the trees near his lodge, and his heart stood still.

“It is your father,” he cried, and he hid the Chief’s daughter in a thicket, while he made himself invisible, that he might stay close beside her.

The great Chief looked inside the lodge of the Wind, but he found it empty. Then he went through the brush, striking to right and left with his heavy club, and calling, “My daughter: my daughter!”

And when the Wind’s wife heard her father’s voice, she answered, “Oh, my father, strike not! We are here.”

But before her words could reach him, the Chief swung his great club once more, and it fell upon the head of the invisible Wind, who, without a sound, dropped unconscious upon the ground. And because he was invisible, neither the Chief nor his daughter knew what had happened.

Then the Chief took his daughter in his arms and hastened back to his tribe. But each day she grew more and more sorrowful, and longed for her husband, the Wind.

For many hours the Wind lay unconscious beside his lodge. When he awakened, the Chief and his daughter had gone. Sorrowfully he set out in search of his wife. He traveled to her father’s tribe, and there at last he found her. But she was in a canoe with her father, far out upon the lake.

Then the Wind cried, “Come to me, my loved one,” and his voice swept out over the water.

The Chief said, “The winds are blowing,” but his daughter knew her husband’s voice. She could not see him, for he was still invisible, but she lifted herself up in the canoe and stretched out her hands toward the shore. As she did so a breeze stirred the water, and the canoe overturned.

The Chief’s daughter threw up her arms, and the Wind tried to catch her in his embrace, but he was too late. The Great Spirit bore her far up into the sky, and there he gave her a home where she would live

“THE WIND TRIED TO CATCH HER IN HIS EMBRACE”

The great Chief was drowned in the waters of the lake.

Night after night his daughter looks down upon the earth, hoping for a sight of her lost lover. But though the Wind still roams about the earth in search of his bride, he has never, since the Chief’s blow fell upon his head, had the power to become visible to men.

And now you will understand why the voice of the Wind is so mournful as it wails about the wigwam; and why the Moon Maiden’s pale face is always turned downward toward the earth.

***

The book ends with another Algonquin wind tale, "Keepers of the Winds", but it's best saved for a warmer time. 

For my fellow storytellers I want to repeat Cowles' note that appeared right before the stories: 

Before reading or telling the Indian Nature Myths to the children, it is best to explain that just as they love to wonder and imagine about the new and strange sights and sounds of the world, so the early races of men, the children of time, loved to wonder and imagine. And so these stories of nature grew out of their imaginings; and some of the stories are so beautiful, and some of them are so odd, that men have repeated them from one generation to another, ever since,—for even when they no longer believed them to be true, they loved them.

Other anthologies title this story "Bride of the Wind." Florence Holbrook's The Book of Nature Myths and Mary F. Nixon-Roulet's Indian Folk Tales  are two Public Domain books with that title.

 ******************

This is part of a series of postings of stories under the category, “Keeping the Public in Public Domain.” The idea behind Public Domain was to preserve our cultural heritage after the authors and their immediate heirs were compensated. I feel strongly current copyright law delays this intent on works of the 20^th century. My own library of folklore includes so many books within the Public Domain I decided to share stories from them. I hope you enjoy discovering them.

At the same time, my own involvement in storytelling regularly creates projects requiring research as part of my sharing stories with an audience.  Whenever that research needs to be shown here, the publishing of Public Domain stories will not occur that week.  This is a return to my regular posting of a research project here.  (Don't worry, this isn't dry research, my research is always geared towards future storytelling to an audience.)  Response has convinced me that "Keeping the Public in Public Domain" should continue along with my other postings as often as I can manage it.

See the sidebar for other Public Domain story resources I recommend on the page “PublicDomain Story Resources."

Otto - Rainbow Legend / Summer Reading "Rainbow of Stories"

This is Native American Heritage Month, with the official day of observance as November 15th. At the same time I've been building my plans for the Collaborative Summer Library Program theme of "Color Our World."

I've prepared A Rainbow of Stories, including songs, an Anansi tale from Africa (told with an Anansi puppet), a Puerto Rican tale of Juan Bobo, the Haitian audience participation tale of Tippingee, as well as a tale the audience will create, and...

a Native American tale from Michigan's own Odawa/Ottawa (People of the the Three Fires known as the Anishinaabe) as recorded by Simon Otto. Nanaboozhoo is the legendary Anishinaabe hero and prankster with magical powers (other spellings and pronunciations exist) and Mukawgee is his dog. Together in the early days when Mother Earth was still growing, they set many things in motion that still exist today.

Simon has gone on The Long Walk, but I'm grateful for his friendship and permission to share the stories he recorded of the Anishinabek. I know his life's mission was to help us all appreciate them. As the title of the book with this story says: Walk in Peace!

I found it interesting that Native American Heritage Month celebrates this rich cultural traditions through the theme of "Rock Your Mocs." The heart of the celebration is taking place from November 10th to 16th, but I will gladly wear my moccasins not only this month, but this summer as a powerful symbol of unity and respect for the ancestors and the diverse cultures that enrich our communities.

Walk in Peace!

Mclaughlin - The Wonderful Turtle - Keeping the Public in Public Domain

If you live in a suburban or rural area, are you prepared to meet turtles?  These ancient creatures aren't surviving our population the way coyotes, foxes, raccoon, skunks, and opposums are.  Those creatures have adapted in many ways, but turtles move slower and also require a water habitat.  At this time of the year you might expect to see a slow moving turtle on the road.  I've had this experience twice so far this year.  

Photo by Luca Ambrosi on Unsplash

If the turtle is small enough you can use your car's floor mat to slide under the turtle and move him to the side of the road he wanted to reach.  For bigger turtles, be careful!  Assume it's a Snapping Turtle capable of biting off your finger!  This is where it's a good idea to have a shovel in your car beyond winter.  It keeps you away from those jaws and still lets you move the turtle where he wanted to go.  (It's also useful for moving opossums still alive, but foolish enough to "play possum" in the middle of the road.)

As might be expected, Wikipedia has an article on the turtle with way more information than you probably want to read, but it's worth prowling, especially this section on Conservation:

 Among vertebrate orders, turtles are second only to primates in the percentage of threatened species. 360 modern species have existed since 1500 AD. Of these, 51–56% are considered threatened and 60% considered threatened or extinct.^[144] Turtles face many threats, including habitat destruction, harvesting for consumption, the pet trade,^[145][146] light pollution,^[147] and climate change.^[148] 

Skipping the section on Asian turtles, it continues with

As of 2021, turtle extinction is progressing much faster than during the Cretaceous-Tertiary extinction. At this rate, all turtles could be extinct in a few centuries.^[150]

Since one of the two turtles I saw was a red-eared slider turtle, I found this part of the Conservation article interesting

 Native turtle populations can also be threatened by invasive ones. The central North American red-eared slider turtle has been listed among the "world's worst invasive species", pet turtle having been released globally. They appear to compete with native turtle species in eastern and western North America, Europe, and Japan.^[161][162]

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Red-eared_slider

That type of turtle is also mentioned in the section on Turtles as Pets

Some turtles, particularly small terrestrial and freshwater species, are kept as pets.^[187][188] The demand for pet turtles increased in the 1950s, with the US being the main supplier, particularly of farm-bred red-eared sliders.

Keep your pet turtle home!

Unfortunately the section about turtles "In Culture" and also "As Food and Other Uses" omits the turtle's importance to Native Americans.

I went looking and found Mrs Marie L. Mclaughlin heard stories while growing up among the eastern Sioux of Minnesota. She recorded them for posterity in 1916 in Myths and Legends of the Sioux. In her Foreword she states she is one-quarter Sioux, dating back to her maternal Scottish grandfather and her grandmother, Ha-za-ho-ta-win, who was a full-blooded member of the Medawakanton Band of the Sioux Tribe of Indians.  She "was born December 8, 1842, at Wabasha, Minnesota, then Indian country, and resided thereat until fourteen years of age, when I was sent to school at Prairie du Chien, Wisconsin." 

She further explains

Having been born and reared in an Indian community, I at an early age acquired a thorough knowledge of the Sioux language, and having lived on Indian reservations for the past forty years in a position which brought me very near to the Indians, whose confidence I possessed, I have, therefore, had exceptional opportunities of learning the legends and folk-lore of the Sioux.

The stories contained in this little volume were told me by the older men and women of the Sioux, of which I made careful notes as related, knowing that, if not recorded, these fairy tales would be lost to posterity by the passing of the primitive Indian.

The book is dedicated

In loving memory of my mother,
MARY GRAHAM BUISSON,
at whose knee most of the stories
contained in this little volume
were told to me, this book is
affectionately dedicated

Personally I find this story is also particularly interesting in its view of the Sioux (or Dakota/Lakota) and the Chippewa (Ojibwe/Anishinaabe), one of Michigan and Canada's Native People.

The name Sioux came from the Anishinaabe word for their old enemies the "Nadouessioux", meaning "little snakes."  Is it any wonder they prefer being called Dakota or Lakota which means "friend" or "ally"?  Some of those 18th century battles are a major part of this story.

THE WONDERFUL TURTLE

Near to a Chippewa village lay a large lake, and in this lake there lived an enormous turtle. This was no ordinary turtle, as he would often come out of his home in the lake and visit with his Indian neighbors. He paid the most of his visits to the head chief, and on these occasions would stay for hours, smoking and talking with him.

The chief, seeing that the turtle was very smart and showed great wisdom in his talk, took a great fancy to him, and whenever any puzzling subject came up before the chief, he generally sent for Mr. Turtle to help him decide.

One day there came a great misunderstanding between different parties of the tribe, and so excited became both sides that it threatened to cause bloodshed. The chief was unable to decide for either faction, so he said, “I will call Mr. Turtle. He will judge for you.”

Sending for the turtle, the chief vacated his seat for the time being, until the turtle should hear both sides, and decide which was in the right. The turtle came, and taking the chief’s seat, listened very attentively to both sides, and thought long before he gave his decision. After thinking long and studying each side carefully, he came to the conclusion to decide in favor of both. This would not cause any hard feelings. So he gave them a lengthy speech and showed them where they were both in the right, and wound up by saying:

“You are both in the right in some ways and wrong in others. Therefore, I will say that you both are equally in the right.”

When they heard this decision, they saw that the turtle was right, and gave him a long cheer for the wisdom displayed by him. The whole tribe saw that had it not been for this wise decision there would have been a great shedding of blood in the tribe. So they voted him as their judge, and the chief, being so well pleased with him, gave to him his only daughter in marriage.

The daughter of the chief was the most beautiful maiden of the Chippewa nation, and young men from other tribes traveled hundreds of miles for an opportunity to make love to her, and try to win her for a wife. It was all to no purpose. She would accept no one, only him whom her father would select for her. The turtle was very homely, but as he was prudent and wise, the father chose him, and she accepted him.

The young men of the tribe were very jealous, but their jealousy was all to no purpose. She married the turtle. The young men would make sport of the chief’s son-in-law. They would say to him: “How did you come to have so flat a stomach?” The turtle answered them, saying:

“My friends, had you been in my place, you too would have flat stomachs. I came by my flat stomach in this way: The Chippewas and Sioux had a great battle, and the Sioux, too numerous for the Chippewas, were killing them off so fast that they had to run for their lives. I was on the Chippewa side and some of the Sioux were pressing five of us, and were gaining on us very fast. Coming to some high grass, I threw myself down flat on my face, and pressed my stomach close to the ground, so the pursuers could not see me. They passed me and killed the four I was with. After they had gone back, I arose and lo! my stomach was as you see it now. So hard had I pressed to the ground that it would not assume its original shape again.”

After he had explained the cause of his deformity to them, they said: “The Turtle is brave. We will bother him no more.” Shortly after this the Sioux made an attack upon the Chippewas, and every one deserted the village. The Turtle could not travel as fast as the rest and was left behind. It being an unusually hot day in the fall, the Turtle grew very thirsty and sleepy. Finally scenting water, he crawled towards the point from whence the scent came, and coming to a large lake jumped in and had a bath, after which he swam towards the center and dived down, and finding some fine large rocks at the bottom, he crawled in among them and fell asleep. He had his sleep out and arose to the top.

Swimming to shore he found it was summer. He had slept all winter. The birds were singing, and the green grass and leaves gave forth a sweet odor.

He crawled out and started out looking for the Chippewa camp. He came upon the camp several days after he had left his winter quarters, and going around in search of his wife, found her at the extreme edge of the village. She was nursing her baby, and as he asked to see it, she showed it to him. When he saw that it was a lovely baby and did not resemble him in any respect, he got angry and went off to a large lake, where he contented himself with catching flies and insects and living on seaweed the remainder of his life.

****

May you play your part in keeping Turtle off the road and contentedly catching flies and insects and living on seaweed the remainder of his hopefully long life.

*************************** 

This is part of a series of postings of stories under the category, "Keeping the Public in Public Domain."  The idea behind Public Domain was to preserve our cultural heritage after the authors and their immediate heirs were compensated.  I feel strongly current copyright law delays this intent on works of the 20th century.  My own library of folklore includes so many books within the Public Domain I decided to share stories from them.  I hope you enjoy discovering new stories.  

At the same time, my own involvement in storytelling regularly creates projects requiring research as part of my sharing stories with an audience.  Whenever that research needs to be shown here, the publishing of Public Domain stories will not occur that week.  This is a return to my regular posting of a research project here.  (Don't worry, this isn't dry research, my research is always geared towards future storytelling to an audience.)  Response has convinced me that "Keeping the Public in Public Domain" should continue along with my other postings as often as I can manage it.

Other Public Domain story resources I recommend-

• There are many online resources for Public Domain stories, maybe none for folklore is as ambitious as fellow storyteller, Yoel Perez's database, Yashpeh, the International Folktales Collection.  I have long recommended it and continue to do so.  He has loaded Stith Thompson's Motif Index into his server as a database so you can search the whole 6 volumes for whatever word or expression you like by pressing one key. http://folkmasa.org/motiv/motif.htm

• You may have noticed I'm no longer certain Dr. Perez has the largest database, although his offering the Motif Index certainly qualifies for those of us seeking specific types of stories.  There's another site, FairyTalez claiming to be the largest, with "over 2000 fairy tales, folktales, and fables" and they are "fully optimized for phones, tablets, and PCs", free and presented without ads.
  Between those two sites, there is much for story-lovers, but as they say in infomercials, "Wait, there's more!"

The email list for storytellers, Storytell, discussed Online Story Sources and came up with these additional suggestions:        

         - David K. Brown - http://people.ucalgary.ca/~dkbrown/stories.html

         - Karen Chace - http://karenchace.blogspot.com/search?q=public+domain

         - Richard Martin - http://www.tellatale.eu/tales_page.html

         - Spirit of Trees - http://spiritoftrees.org/featured-folktales

         - Story-Lovers - http://www.story-lovers.com/ is now only accessible through the Wayback Machine, described below, but the late Jackie Baldwin's wonderful site lives on there, fully searchable manually (the Google search doesn't work), at https://archive.org/ .  It's not easy, but go to Story-lovers.com snapshot for December 22 2016  and you can click on SOS: Searching Out Stories to scroll down through the many story topics and click on the story topic that interests you.

       - Tim Sheppard - http://www.timsheppard.co.uk/story/storylinks.html

       - World of Tales - http://www.worldoftales.com/ 

 
           - Zalka Csenge Virag - http://multicoloreddiary.blogspot.com doesn't give the actual stories, but her recommendations, working her way through each country on a continent, give excellent ideas for finding new books and stories to love and tell.

     
You're going to find many of the links on these sites have gone down, BUT go to the Internet Archive Wayback Machine to find some of these old links.  Tim's site, for example, is so huge probably updating it would be a full-time job.  In the case of Story-Lovers, it's great that Jackie Baldwin set it up to stay online as long as it did after she could no longer maintain it.  Possibly searches maintained it.  Unfortunately Storytell list member, Papa Joe is on both Tim Sheppard's site and Story-Lovers, but he no longer maintains his old Papa Joe's Traveling Storytelling Show website and his Library (something you want to see!) is now only on the Wayback Machine.  It took some patience working back through claims of snapshots but finally in December of 2006 it appears!

Somebody as of this writing whose stories can still be found by his website is the late Chuck Larkin - http://chucklarkin.com/stories.html.  I prefer to list these sites by their complete address so they can be found by the Wayback Machine, a.k.a. Archive.org, when that becomes the only way to find them.

You can see why I recommend these to you. 

Have fun discovering even more stories

Woodson - How the Dog Became the Friend of Man - Keeping the Public in Public Domain

This week I said a final goodbye to the best dog ever!

He had been a family member since the autumn of 2011.  For now I can only say I'm sure our pets must go to heaven or it wouldn't be heavenly there without them!

Do I have stories about him?  You bet I do, but for now I'm not ready to share them.  I also am not ready again to become a "fur-ever" home, but plan to foster senior malamutes.  If I can't resist going further, it will become obvious, but for now this wonderful dog is truly the best dog I've ever had the blessing to know.

I wanted to find a story to memorialize him and thought instantly of Simon Otto's "Dog Legend" in his book, We Walk in Peace.  I tried unsuccessfully to find it again in other Anishinaabe anthologies from the Public Domain.  Simon didn't choose stories to share that are well-known.  He did choose to share them with me.  Since he,too, has gone on the Long Walk (probably with a dog or dogs by his side) I have tried unsuccessfully to contact his heirs (his wife, Mary?) for permission to reprint his works.  Perhaps this is a call to try further.  All of his books are now out-of-print, but can probably be found by searching.  I have them all, complete with his encouragement to share them.  If you go looking, all his books are stories of the Anishinaabek except for Aube Na Bing; A Pictorial History of Michigan Indians and even there he slips in three legends.  "Aube na bing" means "looking back" and I look back on the ways he helped me and others appreciate this part of our state's too often missed culture, a culture that reached across the border to nearby members of Canada's First Nations.  I also remember he was criticized for sharing some stories considered "sacred."  Eventually that criticism died down, possibly recognizing the value of his sharing, but I never notice his name in the listing of important Ojibway.  I did, however, discover an excellent article in the "Petoskey News-Review" where he had a column for several years called "Talking Leaves."  The pair of interviews it contains show much about this storyteller who ended his stories with the message of "Walk in Peace."

Since I was unable to find a way to include the Anishinaabe legend of how the dog came to live with people, I wound up further away with Carter Woodson's African Myths and Proverbs.  Doctor Carter Godwin Woodson, deserves recognition for his own cultural work.  Woodson became the second African American, after W. E. B. Du Bois, to obtain a PhD degree from Harvard University. Woodson is the only person whose parents were enslaved in the United States to obtain a PhD in history.  An American historian, author, journalist, he was one of the first scholars to study the history of the African diaspora, including African-American history.  In 1926, Woodson pioneered the celebration of "Negro History Week, which of course is now Black History Month.  He split his attention between the U.S. and its African origins.  Here is his story of "How the Dog Became the Friend of Man", but there is no identification of its source beyond saying in the anthology's subtitle "Folk Tales from Various Parts of Africa."  

***

No doubt the story was repeated again and again throughout earliest history all over the world.  Dogs truly are "Man's best friend."

*******************

This is part of a series of postings of stories under the category, "Keeping the Public in Public Domain."  The idea behind Public Domain was to preserve our cultural heritage after the authors and their immediate heirs were compensated.  I feel strongly current copyright law delays this intent on works of the 20th century.  My own library of folklore includes so many books within the Public Domain I decided to share stories from them.  I hope you enjoy discovering new stories.  

At the same time, my own involvement in storytelling regularly creates projects requiring research as part of my sharing stories with an audience.  Whenever that research needs to be shown here, the publishing of Public Domain stories will not occur that week.  This is a return to my regular posting of a research project here.  (Don't worry, this isn't dry research, my research is always geared towards future storytelling to an audience.)  Response has convinced me that "Keeping the Public in Public Domain" should continue along with my other postings as often as I can manage it.

Other Public Domain story resources I recommend-

• There are many online resources for Public Domain stories, maybe none for folklore is as ambitious as fellow storyteller, Yoel Perez's database, Yashpeh, the International Folktales Collection.  I have long recommended it and continue to do so.  He has loaded Stith Thompson's Motif Index into his server as a database so you can search the whole 6 volumes for whatever word or expression you like by pressing one key. http://folkmasa.org/motiv/motif.htm

• You may have noticed I'm no longer certain Dr. Perez has the largest database, although his offering the Motif Index certainly qualifies for those of us seeking specific types of stories.  There's another site, FairyTalez claiming to be the largest, with "over 2000 fairy tales, folktales, and fables" and they are "fully optimized for phones, tablets, and PCs", free and presented without ads.
  Between those two sites, there is much for story-lovers, but as they say in infomercials, "Wait, there's more!"

The email list for storytellers, Storytell, discussed Online Story Sources and came up with these additional suggestions:        

         - David K. Brown - http://people.ucalgary.ca/~dkbrown/stories.html

         - Karen Chace - http://karenchace.blogspot.com/search?q=public+domain

         - Richard Martin - http://www.tellatale.eu/tales_page.html

         - Spirit of Trees - http://spiritoftrees.org/featured-folktales

         - Story-Lovers - http://www.story-lovers.com/ is now only accessible through the Wayback Machine, described below, but the late Jackie Baldwin's wonderful site lives on there, fully searchable manually (the Google search doesn't work), at https://archive.org/ .  It's not easy, but go to Story-lovers.com snapshot for October 22 2016  and you can click on SOS: Searching Out Stories to scroll down through the many story topics and click on the story topic that interests you.

       - Tim Sheppard - http://www.timsheppard.co.uk/story/storylinks.html

       - World of Tales - http://www.worldoftales.com/ 

 
           - Zalka Csenge Virag - http://multicoloreddiary.blogspot.com doesn't give the actual stories, but her recommendations, working her way through each country on a continent, give excellent ideas for finding new books and stories to love and tell.

     
You're going to find many of the links on these sites have gone down, BUT go to the Internet Archive Wayback Machine to find some of these old links.  Tim's site, for example, is so huge probably updating it would be a full-time job.  In the case of Story-Lovers, it's great that Jackie Baldwin set it up to stay online as long as it did after she could no longer maintain it.  Possibly searches maintained it.  Unfortunately Storytell list member, Papa Joe is on both Tim Sheppard's site and Story-Lovers, but he no longer maintains his old Papa Joe's Traveling Storytelling Show website and his Library (something you want to see!) is now only on the Wayback Machine.  It took some patience working back through claims of snapshots but finally in December of 2006 it appears!

Somebody as of this writing whose stories can still be found by his website is the late Chuck Larkin - http://chucklarkin.com/stories.html.  I prefer to list these sites by their complete address so they can be found by the Wayback Machine, a.k.a. Archive.org, when that becomes the only way to find them.

You can see why I recommend these to you. 

Have fun discovering even more stories

Schoolcraft - Shingebiss - Keeping the Public in Public Domain

November is a month to focus on Native Americans.  It can't begin to cover enough, but I propose to take the four directions -- a sacred concept that probably spans the many Native American nations -- and give a story for each.  

Of course my love of the Anishinaabe means I must open with the north and our Great Lakes people.  Commonly called the People of the 3 Fires, they are composed of the Ojibwa (also called Chippewa), the Odawa (or Ottawa), and the Pottawatomi.  The third group, the Pottawatomi is mainly on the west side of Michigan and I've never had any opportunity to know anybody there.  They also are in Canada and called the First Nations (the Canadian name for the first people; here in the U.S. we say Native American).  I'm uncertain how their First Nations sisters and brothers might differ as again I'm limited to only what I find online and in print.  I've been taught by both Odawa and Ojibwa elders who have now gone on the Long Walk and I miss them immensely.  I have a fellow storytelling friend, Robyn Henry from the Saginaw Chippewa Band, who used to be in the Flint area.  Since she moved away it's been harder to stay in touch, but she's the one I'd always turn to for verification.  I know she resents the way many of the legends belonging to her people are supposedly now unavailable because outside writers tell and copyright them.  

Robyn also is aware of the way stories in the few anthologies available are either incomplete or contain errors.  Certainly Henry Rowe Schoolcraft  reveals his 19th century roots, but we are blessed with the knowledge that his wife, Jane Johnston Schoolcraft (whose name translates as The Sound the Stars Make Rushing Through the Sky), told him Anishinaabe stories she knew.  By the way, that hotlink for her name is also the title of a 2008 book edited by Robert Dale Parker of  all her writings, including poetry.  I believe this story reveals her poetic nature.  Project Gutenberg includes it in the book attributed to H.R. Schoolcraft, with the unattractive title of The Myth of Hiawatha, and Other Oral Legends, Mythologic and Allegoric, of the North American Indians.

Photograph by Scott Suriano

Don't let any of that stop you for many have found this to be a story worth knowing.  Sometimes it's about a duck living alone in the winter, but I've also heard of people telling it as if Shingebiss was a woman.  Some people debate which type of our ducks who winter here it could be.  Again, don't let that stop you.  You can also substitute Northwest Wind for Kabebonicca. I'll say more after the story, but for now let it speak to you.  I'm confident you will be glad you did. 

 SHINGEBISS.

AN ALLEGORY OF SELF-RELIANCE.

FROM THE ODJIBWA.

There was once a Shingebiss, the name of the fall duck living alone, in a solitary lodge, on the shores of the deep bay of a lake, in the coldest winter weather. The ice had formed on the water, and he had but four logs of wood to keep his fire. Each of these would, however, burn a month, and as there were but four cold winter months, they were sufficient to carry him through till spring.

Shingebiss was hardy and fearless, and cared for no one. He would go out during the coldest day, and seek for places where flags and rushes grew through the ice, and plucking them up with his bill, would dive through the openings, in quest of fish. In this way he found plenty of food, while others were starving, and he went home daily to his lodge, dragging strings of fish after him, on the ice.

Kabebonicca observed him, and felt a little piqued at his perseverance and good luck in defiance of the severest blasts of wind he could send from the northwest. "Why! this is a wonderful man," said he; "he does not mind the cold, and appears as happy and contented as if it were the month of June. I will try whether he cannot be mastered." He poured forth tenfold colder blasts, and drifts of snow, so that it was next to impossible to live in the open air. Still, the fire of Shingebiss did not go out: he wore but a single strip of leather around his body, and he was seen, in the worst weather, searching the shores for rushes, and carrying home fish.

"I shall go and visit him," said Kabebonicca, one day, as he saw Shingebiss dragging along a quantity of fish. And, accordingly, that very night, he went to the door of his lodge. Meantime Shingebiss had cooked his fish, and finished his meal, and was lying, partly on his side, before the fire, singing his songs. After Kabebonicca had come to the door, and stood listening there, he sang as follows:—

Ka	Neej	Ka	Neej
Be	In	Be	In
Bon	In	Bon	In
Oc	Ee.	Oc	Ee.
Ca	We-ya!	Ca	We-ya!

The number of words, in this song, are few and simple, but they are made up from compounds which carry the whole of their original meanings, and are rather suggestive of the ideas floating in the mind than actual expressions of those ideas. Literally, he sings:—

Spirit of the Northwest—you are but my fellow man.

By being broken into syllables, to correspond with a simple chant, and by the power of intonation and repetition, with a chorus, these words are expanded into melodious utterance, if we may be allowed the term, and may be thus rendered:—

Windy god, I know your plan,

You are but my fellow man;

Blow you may your coldest breeze,

Shingebiss you cannot freeze.

Sweep the strongest wind you can,

Shingebiss is still your man;

Heigh! for life—and ho! for bliss,

Who so free as Shingebiss?

The hunter knew that Kabebonicca was at his door, for he felt his cold and strong breath; but he kept on singing his songs, and affected utter indifference. At length Kabebonicca entered, and took his seat on the opposite side of the lodge. But Shingebiss did not regard, or notice him. He got up, as if nobody were present, and taking his poker, pushed the log, which made his fire burn brighter, repeating, as he sat down again:—

You are but my fellow man.

Very soon the tears began to flow down Kabebonicca's cheeks, which increased so fast, that, presently, he said to himself: "I cannot stand this—I must go out." He did so, and left Shingebiss to his songs; but resolved to freeze up all the flag orifices, and make the ice thick, so that he could not get any more fish. Still, Shingebiss, by dint of great diligence, found means to pull up new roots, and dive under for fish. At last, Kabebonicca was compelled to give up the contest. "He must be aided by some Monedo," said he. "I can neither freeze him nor starve him; he is a very singular being—I will let him alone."

**** 

Do a search for Shingebiss and you will see, among other things, a picture book retelling the story by Nancy Van Laan.  You can use this to judge how close to its origins it is, but don't believe the story is locked up under copyright and can't be retold.  It's too important for that.

Friend and fellow storyteller, Fran Stallings is a member of National Storytelling Network's  Special Interest Group, Healing Story Alliance.  When I went looking for more about Shingebiss the search led me to the Wayback Machine and her very thorough telling and teller's notes about the story dating back to early in this century.  I strongly recommend it.  It even includes her version of the music in the tale.

Back in 2011 Canadian songwriter and recording/audiovisual artist, Ellsie Kay, wrote a song for Shingebiss.  She's not a member of the First Nations, but her song and brief form of telling the story on YouTube is definitely worth viewing and seems to capture the spirit of this story.  I've too little knowledge of pronunciation of  the language to guarantee it's correct, but love her translation:

North Wind, North Wind, fierce in feature

You are but my fellow creature;

Blow your worst, you can't freeze me;

I fear you not, and so I'm FREE!

Whether you feel like telling the story & trying to sing what either she or Fran offer for the song, or just as appropriately, chant the words Kay offers, I believe you and your audiences will remember that last line and maybe even join you in it: 

I fear you not, and so I'm FREE!

By the time you read this, I will have been able to tell this story twice as part of the Jackson Storyfest.  What a privilege to bring Shingebiss and other Anishinaabe tales.  I wish they were being told by Anishinaabeg tellers, but will do my best to represent them as faithfully as possible.  

Let your love of the wisdom found in our Native American stories keep you reading and telling them.  As Shingebiss would remind you, "I fear you not, and so I'm FREE!"  At the same time do it with respect and honor the original tellers and their intent to keep their wisdom for all of us.