  Winter had come to the many Indian villages in the northeastern woodlands, and with it, the snow, the wind, and the cold. The winter was so severe that even the strongest braves hesitated to wander far from their villages, knowing that death could overtake an adventurous brave if a sudden blizzard should catch him far from familiar ground. This story is about two such adventurous young Oneida Indians that winter. Naltan and Ceysoda were outstanding young boys of their tribe. Time and time again before winter set in, they had taken part in the games and contests of the tribe, and one or the other had won each time. This had continued until the other young boys in the village decided that Naltan and Ceysoda were just too good for them, and that something must be done to prevent their running away with all the prizes. So one fall day, when they were sure that Ceysoda and Naltan were not around, all the youngsters gathered to discuss a plan. On the following day, there were to be foot races in the village. The group plotted that at the start of the foot race, two of the faster young braves would trip Naltan and Ceysoda so that they would fall and thus be put out of the race. The boys who had tripped them would be scored out of the race, too, but at least they would have the satisfaction of knowing that someone besides Naltan and Ceysoda would win the foot race for a change. Just at that moment they saw Naltan coming around one of the wigwams, and they all started walking away in different directions. Naltan walked up to one of the leaders of the group and asked: “What have I missed, friend Beartooth? Ceysoda and I have been busy repairing and sharpening our hunting weapons. We did not know that there was to be a meeting of all the boys of the village.” Beartooth was quick to recover from his surprise and then in a very calm voice said: “Oh, Naltan, that was no meeting of all the boys. It was merely a few of us talking about the foot races tomorrow and the weather. It has been very cold, and soon winter will be here with her snow and winds and bitter cold. Tomorrow we are going to have the foot races. So we were talking about who we thought would be victorious.” “Do you think there are any among you who can defeat Ceysoda and me in the foot race, Beartooth? If you do, you had better forget about it,” Naltan boasted. “Ceysoda and I will win the race tomorrow, as we always do.” “We shall see,” said Beartooth with a note of warning in his voice. “We shall see.” Then he turned and walked away from Naltan toward his father’s wigwam. Naltan shrugged his shoulders and, thinking no more about it, dashed off to find Ceysoda. He looked all around the camp and finally found him practicing with his bow and arrow a short distance from the village. Naltan told him what Beartooth had said. Ceysoda was silent for a few moments, thinking. “Naltan, my friend,” he said, “I have a strange feeling that our brothers plot against us. I have no good reason for feeling this way, but I can’t help it. For some reason our friends have planned a way to make us lose the race. What it is and how I know I cannot tell you, but the feeling is upon me.” “You are foolish, Ceysoda. The fact that we have won many contests and games from our friends surely wouldn’t give them a reason to plot any harm.” “I do not say that they want to harm us; but in some way they will try to make sure we do not win the foot races tomorrow. Wait and see, Naltan.” The two boys spoke no further and soon it was time to return to their wigwams for the evening meal. When Naltan and his father had finished eating, Naltan told his father that he would like to get his advice. So father and son sat down by the blazing coals of the fire in the middle of their wigwam. “Father,” Naltan began, “today Ceysoda told me that our friends were planning some trick to make us lose in the foot race tomorrow. He also said that he did not know why he had this feeling, but he did have it. Surely, father, our friends would not try to harm us?” “No, my son, I do not believe that your friends would want to harm you, but is there any reason that you would have to believe that what your friend Ceysoda tells you might be true?” “No, father, there isn’t anything—yes, wait a minute! There might be. Late this afternoon when Ceysoda and I had finished working on our bows, I went down to Beartooth’s wigwam to borrow some thongs for my moccasins. Just as I reached the small clearing near Beartooth’s home, I saw almost all of our friends gathered together talking; but when they saw me they scattered, each one heading for his own home. When I questioned Beartooth about it, he said that they had been talking about the coming winter and the foot races tomorrow, and had just finished when I arrived.” “Well, do not worry about it, my son. Whoever is strongest and fastest will win tomorrow. It will soon be time for bed. Go out and play for a little while, but when your mother calls, come to bed, for you will need your rest for the foot races.” With that Naltan’s father rose to leave. “You know, father, my thoughts became so confused when I saw the crowd of boys that I forgot to ask Beartooth for the thongs. I will go down now before he goes to sleep so that I may work a little more on my bow tonight before I go to sleep.” Naltan left his home and walked quickly to Beartooth’s home. As he neared Beartooth’s wigwam he heard voices. Beartooth was talking to one of the other young braves. “Yes, that’s right,” he was saying, “make sure that you are next to Naltan at the start of the race tomorrow. When the signal is given, pretend to trip so that you will fall against Naltan and tumble him to the ground. I will do the same to Ceysoda. Then we can be sure that someone else will win the race.” Naltan decided that he did not need the extra thong that night, but hurried to see his friend, Ceysoda. Reaching the wigwam where he lived, he called until Ceysoda came to the entrance. “What do you want, Naltan? It is late and I am tired. I was just about to go to bed.” “Ceysoda, I have discovered what our friends plan for us tomorrow.” Naltan repeated what he had heard at Beartooth’s wigwam. When he had finished, he waited to see how Ceysoda would take the news. He did not have to wait long, for suddenly Ceysoda’s face took on an angry look. “Those crawling mud worms,” he cried. “Have they become so jealous because they cannot win at the games and contests that they have to use trickery against us? I knew that the feeling I had was a true one. Now we know exactly what they are going to do. But how can we prevent this from happening tomorrow, Naltan?” “I have a plan,” said Naltan. “Tomorrow when we line up for the race we will ask that the others be given a slight lead over us because we have won so many races. We should be able to tell by what they say to that whether or not they would still try to carry out such a plan.” “That is a very good idea, Naltan,” said Ceysoda, yawning. “Now I must say goodnight, for I am tired, and we have some hard running ahead of us tomorrow.” The boys said goodnight. Ceysoda turned back into his wigwam and Naltan started to go home to his own bed. On the way, he wondered whether he should tell his father what had happened. He decided to handle this in his own way, without the help of any adults. The following day was very crisp and cool. Off to the northwest clouds warned that a snowstorm might be building up. But everyone was too excited to take much notice of anything besides the preparations going on all around for the big foot race. Fathers and sons together made the final inspection of the boys’ clothing for the big race. The boys’ moccasins especially were looked over carefully for any weak spots where the leather might break. A torn moccasin could mean lost time and a lost race. At last, the call went up through the village for all who were entering the race to gather at the starting line just outside the village on the border of a great meadow. The young boys gathered, joined by their proud fathers, each of whom hoped that his son would cross the finish line first and win the beautiful bone-handled hunting knife which the tribe’s medicine man had offered as the first prize. When all the contestants had gathered at the starting line, the warrior in charge of the race began to give instructions. He called for the attention of all the runners. At that moment, Ceysoda and Naltan stepped forward and asked that they be allowed to start ten paces behind the others so that this could be a more even race. There were many shouts from the other boys that Ceysoda and Naltan were only boasting. They said that they wanted the two boys to start with them. If Ceysoda and Naltan won the race, all well and good! But if they had to start back and lost the race then someone would always complain that it was not an even race. The warrior in charge then made his decision. “I believe,” he said, “that Naltan and Ceysoda are being very fair. So far they have won all foot races by a great margin. Now they offer to start late in order to give every one of you a better chance to win. I have no doubt that many of you have been practicing hard for this event, but these two have been practicing just as hard. So it would be a very unfair race unless I did give them a handicap to even up the chances for you all.” Beartooth knew that if they argued against this ruling, suspicion might be aroused. So he bade his friends be quiet and line up again for the race. The course for the race this year had been chosen very carefully. The boys were to run across the meadow and into the woods up the game trail until they reached the blaze marked on a fallen birch. Then they were to turn off the trail and head east until they came to the singing rock. That, Naltan knew, was the rock from which water trickled during and after a heavy rain, and made an unusual, almost tinkling sound. At the rock the boys would turn south, break from the forest, cross the meadow, and head for home. The first one to cross the finish line would be declared the winner and receive the coveted hunting knife. The instructions were clear. The boys waited eagerly. When the warrior had made sure that all were lined up correctly, he gave them the starting signal. Instead of leaping forward, the racers began to mill around. Then several boys broke from the group and started to run along the course. Five young Indian braves, including Beartooth, Naltan, and Ceysoda, could be seen lying on the ground. Naltan and Ceysoda leaped quickly to their feet and began running. They had already lost a great deal of valuable ground, but the desire to win this race now burned especially bright in their hearts. They ran swiftly across the meadow in pursuit of the fast-disappearing figures of the leading braves, while others trailed behind them. As they reached the woods, they began to overtake the other boys one at a time, because the running became harder as they got deeper into the woods. There were rocks and branches to hinder their way, and the footing was often unsure. As the two boys reached the blazed birch tree they turned eastward and continued swiftly on their way. They soon passed more of the young braves. As they reached the singing rock and turned for home only two boys were still between them and the finish line. When they broke into the open and reached the meadow, the gap between the boys narrowed rapidly, and they were greeted by cheers. It was clear to all that Naltan and Ceysoda would overtake the two leaders. The cheering grew louder when, with a sudden burst of speed, Naltan and Ceysoda passed them and sped across the finish line at exactly the same moment. They were declared winners in a tied race, and each was given a beautiful knife. After the award was made, Naltan looked around for Beartooth, but could not find him. On the way home, Naltan asked his father if he had seen Beartooth. “Why, my son,” his father said, “he was standing close to me as you and Ceysoda broke from the woods into the meadow on the last part of the race. Then he disappeared. Why are you so concerned. When you had picked yourself up from the ground and started after the other boys, the warrior in charge of the race spoke to Beartooth. Beartooth confessed his plan which, it seems, did not work out successfully. He will be punished for his plot. There is no need for you to be worried.” “But I am worried, father, for there is no need to punish Beartooth. What he did was wrong, but I am sure he is sorry. And after all, no harm was done. I will go to him and speak with him and show him that I am not angry. Then I will talk to the warrior who started the race?” Naltan left his father and went to Beartooth’s house. He called to his friend but there was no answer. When he called again, Beartooth’s mother came out of the wigwam and told him that her son had not returned from the foot race. “But all the contestants have finished in the race and are home by now. Where could Beartooth have gone? I will look for him.” Naltan left to find Ceysoda, who was showing his beautiful knife proudly to his many friends. “Ceysoda,” Naltan called as he drew near. “Come, I must talk with you.” When he finished telling Ceysoda about Beartooth’s not returning home, the two boys went in search of him. They looked all through the village but could not find him anywhere. They asked all the children but they had not seen him. Finally, they found the boy to whom Beartooth had spoken about the plot and who was to have helped him. At first the boy denied knowing anything about where Beartooth might be; but finally after continued questioning from Naltan, the boy told them. “Beartooth was afraid when the warrior at the racing field told him that he would have to be punished. So while everyone was milling around and shouting at the end of the race, he stole off and ran into the wood. He feared not only the punishment of the warrior and council, but also the punishment that you and Ceysoda would bring down upon him for playing such a trick.” While they were talking, a few snowflakes began to fall. “Come,” said Naltan, “we must go after him quickly. From the looks of the sky and this snow, there will be a heavy storm. Beartooth has had little experience with snow. His days alone in the forest have been few. If we do not go after him, he may be lost in the storm and threatened by the wild animals of the forest.” “I cannot go,” the boy answered. “My father would not allow it. Besides, how would we know where to look?” The boys stepped back and stared at the boy. “You are a coward,” Naltan said angrily. “I cannot waste time arguing with you. Come, Ceysoda, we must leave immediately.” Without further words, the two friends turned and started for the forest. The snow was beginning to fall faster and thicker now. As they reached the forest, they stopped to choose the most likely trail that Beartooth would follow. The race had tired Ceysoda, and he was breathing heavily now. “Wait, Naltan,” he pleaded. “The boy was right. How would we know which direction Beartooth would take? Besides, at the rate this snow is falling any trace of him would be covered. Is it wise to go on?” “Wise or not, Ceysoda, we must go on. Beartooth must be found. Not knowing the forest too well, he would probably travel the main trail toward the north. We will go in that direction. If we hurry, we may be able to pick up a sign of his route before the snow has a chance to cover it completely, and reach him before he goes too far.” The boys spoke no further but hurried up the trail to the north, keeping their eyes toward the ground to look for signs of the boy’s having passed that way. Soon Naltan stopped and pointed to a place in the trail where the snow had been disturbed. “He must have fallen here. See the way the snow has been pushed aside. Come, quickly, Ceysoda, he cannot be too far ahead.” The two boys continued swiftly on the trail. Soon they were able to make out signs of fresh moccasin prints in the snow. But just when they felt they were getting close, the wind began to blow harder, sweeping along the trail and covering any tracks or other signs that they might have found. The boys had been traveling at a fast pace for some time, when Ceysoda stopped suddenly. “Wait, Naltan, I must rest,” he said. “I am tired. I cannot go on without rest. Just for a moment let me catch my breath. Surely Beartooth will not continue without rest, too, and we will lose no ground by stopping for a short while.” “All right,” said Naltan, “but just for a moment. The day is growing late.” The two boys squatted down by the side of the trail and breathed deeply to get their wind back again. Suddenly, Nathan gazed up through the trees and then, stretching his hands out in front of him, he said, “Ceysoda, my friend, look! It has stopped snowing. We are in luck. But we must hurry even so, because the storm will no longer slow Beartooth’s pace.” The two boys rose and sped on up the trail. Truly they were in luck, for soon they came upon a place in the snow where someone had stopped to rest at the side of the trail. The prints of small moccasins were plain in the snow and led straight up the trail. Now the boys increased their efforts, for they knew they must be close. Suddenly, the tracks stopped and turned off the trail into the thick woods. This puzzled Naltan, but he turned to follow them. The two boys began finding the going a little rougher. Suddenly, they found that they not only were following moccasin tracks, but another set of tracks now appeared not far behind the boy’s. These were the tracks of a bear! The bear, Naltan thought, must have been late in going into hibernation for the winter because he had not found enough food. Now a delicious morsel of warm-blooded food was on the trail ahead of him. Now Naltan understood why Beartooth had left the trail; he must have seen the bear ahead on the trail and turned off to escape him. But the hear was not going to be avoided so easily. Naltan suddenly stopped and turned to Ceysoda. “What shall we do if we do come upon the bear and Beartooth?” he asked. “We are not armed with our bows and arrows. We could hardly defend ourselves against such a worthy opponent as a bear. Two young Indians such as we, no matter how brave, would be easy prey for a large bear. Yet we must go on and see if there is any help we can give. To turn back now would certainly mark us as cowards.” Ceysoda did not like the idea of fighting a full-grown bear; yet he liked less the thought of turning his back on danger and returning to the village to meet his friends’ ridicule and his father’s anger for having been so cowardly. They would have trouble enough as it was, for having left the village without letting their parents or friends know where they had gone. Naltan’s voice swung his thoughts back to his present plight. “I have an idea, Ceysoda. Between us we have two knives. Let us cut a couple of stout saplings to use as spears if we should need them. At least we will have some chance, even if it is not a very good one, against the bear.” So the two boys immediately began cutting stout saplings to hack into crude spears—poor weapons against an angry bear, but the best the boys could think of at the moment. When they sharpened the points on their spears, they continued following the very clear trail in the snow. They did not travel as fast now because they sensed a danger lurking ahead of them. They did not know just how far ahead the bear was, whether he was still following Beartooth, or whether he had discovered them. In fact, at this very moment, he might be awaiting them, hidden among the rocks up ahead, which they could plainly see now as they watched the forest in front of them cautiously while following the tracks carefully in the snow. They were continuing their anxious march in silence when they were startled by a sound that echoed through the forest, a sound all too familiar to them—the growl of an angry bear. It had come from in front and to the right of them. So the boys went on with even more caution. Suddenly, Naltan signaled to Ceysoda and the two boys crouched low to the ground. Ahead of them, about a hundred paces, the natural trail they had been following came to an end in a boxlike formation of rocks. The rocks reached almost straight up to the height of an elm tree. On top of this enclosure stood the bear and about ten feet below him on a ledge sticking out from the rocks was Beartooth. Behind the bear the boys noticed that the rocks continued to rise and they figured that they had come upon almost a dead end. Beartooth, Naltan figured, had reached the dead end and panic-stricken because of the bear, had either fallen or jumped to the ledge. For the moment he was safe, for the bear did not want to chance jumping to the ledge and there was no way that he could climb down. Suddenly he turned to the side and calmly walked around and down beside the wall until he was once again on the forest floor. He trotted to a spot directly beneath where the boy lay and studied the situation, trying to figure a way to get at this thing that had invaded the privacy of his forest at a time when he had been almost mad with hunger. The wind was blowing into the faces of the boys so they knew for the time being they were safe because the bear could not smell them, but if the wind should shift they would then be in trouble, for the bear would turn his attention to them. This also gave them time to think and work out a plan. Suddenly Ceysoda touched Naltan’s shoulder. “My brother,” he said, “he moved. Beartooth moved; he is alive. We must do something.” “Yes,” said Naltan, “for in his present situation he might fall from the ledge and then it would be all over. If we can somehow drive the bear off, we could then rescue Beartooth and return to the village.” “That is a good idea, Naltan, but tell me, friend, how do we get Beartooth off the ledge once we have chased the bear away, if we can chase him away?” This was a serious problem, for the boys had nothing they could use as a rope and, besides, Naltan could for the moment think of no way to get rid of the bear. Just then the boys noticed Beartooth moving again, but this time he rolled even closer to the ledge. Without thinking, Ceysoda stood straight up and shouted at Beartooth. “Look out, Beartooth, you are right at the edge of the ledge. Look out, you will fall.” Then Ceysoda realized what he had done, and he stood frozen as the bear turned and raising himself on his hind legs, emitting a terrible growl, started for the boys. Ceysoda’s shouts had roused Beartooth and he worked his way back from the edge of the ledge close to the wall and safety. Meanwhile the bear was increasing his speed toward the two boys. The boys stood almost frozen with fear, but suddenly they were able to shake off the paralysis that had gripped them, and both boys drew their rustic spears in front of them to await the charge of the bear who was coming ever closer. Naltan stepped slightly in front of Ceysoda in order to take the brunt of the attack, but Ceysoda would have none of it and edged up right next to Naltan. By this time the bear was almost upon them and with a terrifying snarl came rushing the last few yards. Naltan and Ceysoda, with the ends of the spears jammed into the ground held fast as the bear rushed right into the sharp points. The bear stopped in his tracks as if suddenly he had forgotten something and then with an agonizing snarl fell over dead, the two spears protruding from his body. Immediately Naltan and Ceysoda ran forward to the base of the ledge. Climbing to the top above Beartooth, the boys cut a long stout staff and lowered the end to Beartooth who grasped it and was pulled to safety. Then swiftly the three boys started for the village. On the way, each in turn told their story. First Beartooth told of how he had run away and how he had been chased to the top of the rock formation by the bear and, in trying to avoid him, had fallen. The two boys told how they had followed Beartooth to bring him back and of their coming upon the bear and their narrow escape. When they reached the warmth and security of their village again, Naltan and Ceysoda went with Beartooth to his wigwam and there assured him that they had no desire to punish him in any way for his trickery of that morning. “What you did was wrong, but what has happened to you today we firmly believe is punishment enough. Let us forget the incidents of this day. We are still friends and friends we must remain, for only through unity and friendship will we grow into strong good Oneida warriors.” Beartooth smiled and thanked his two friends, and he continued to smile as Naltan and Ceysoda walked off arm in arm toward their homes and large suppers that awaited the returning heroes. |
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