ᒥᔑ ᒥᑭᓯᐤ

ᐌᔥᑲᒡ ᐃᓕᓕᐗᒃ ᒨᓚ ᐙᐲᐸᓇᒃ ᐁ ᑮᔑᑳᒃ, ᐱᑯ ᐁ ᑎᐱᔅᑳᒃ᙮ ᒣᒀᒡ ᒫᑲ ᐆᒪ ᐃᐦᑖᐸᓇᒃ ᒥᑭᓯᐗᒃ ᐁ ᒥᔑᑭᑎᒋᒃ᙮ ᐯᔭᒄ ᒫᑲ ᐊᐗ ᒥᑭᓯᐤ ᒨᓚ ᑫᒀᓐ ᒦᒋᐤ, ᐱᑯ ᐃᓕᓕᐗ᙮ ᒨᔕᒃ ᒫᑲ ᐁ ᑎᐱᔅᑳᒃ ᐸᐹᒥᓛᐤ ᐁ ᓈᓇᑕᐙᐸᒫᑦ ᐃᓕᓕᐗ ᑭᒋ ᒧᐙᑦ᙮ ᒨᔕᒃ ᒫᑲ ᐱᑯ ᐁ ᑎᐱᔅᑳᒃ ᐋᐸᑎᓰᐸᓇᒃ ᐃᓕᓕᐗᒃ᙮ ᒨᔕᒃ ᒫᑲ ᓴᑳᐦᒃ ᐸᐹᒧᐦᑌᐸᓇᒃ᙮ ᒨᓚ ᓀᔥᑕ ᐐᔅᑳᑦ ᐋᔕᐗᑳᓰᐸᓇᒃ ᓵᑲᐦᐃᑲᓐ ᐁ ᑎᐱᔅᑳᒃ᙮ ᑯᔥᑌᐗᒃ ᑭᒋ ᐙᐸᒥᑯᒋᒃ ᐆᐦᐃ ᒥᑭᓯᐗ᙮

ᐯᔭᒀᐤ ᒫᑲ ᐃᓕᓕᐤ ᐊᒥᔅᑾ ᑮ ᓇᑕᐎ ᓂᐸᐦᐁᐤ᙮ ᐯᔭᒄ ᒫᑲ ᐊᒥᔅᑾ ᐐᐗᔑᐤ᙮ ᐅᑎᐦᑕᒻ ᒫᑲ ᓵᑲᐦᐃᑲᓐ᙮ ᒨᓚ ᓈᔅᐱᒡ ᒥᔖᐤ ᐊᓂᒪ ᓵᑲᐦᐃᑲᓐ᙮ ᐁᑯ ᒫᑲ ᐊᐗ ᓈᐯᐤ ᑮ ᐋᔕᐗᑳᓯᐤ ᐊᓂᒪ ᓵᑲᐦᐃᑲᓐ᙮ ᒨᓚ ᒫᔥᑯᒡ ᓂᑲ ᐙᐸᒥᒄ ᒥᑭᓯᐤ, ᑮ ᐃᑌᓕᐦᑕᒻ᙮ ᒬᐦᒋ ᒫᑲ ᐋᐱᐦᑕᐤ ᐁ ᐃᐦᑖᑦ ᐁ ᐋᔕᐗᑳᓯᑦ ᒪᔅᑯᒦᐦᒃ ᐊᓂᒪ ᓵᑲᐦᐃᑲᓐ ᑫᒀᓐ ᐯᐦᑕᒻ ᑖᐱᔅᑰᒡ ᐁ ᓘᑎᐦᒃ ᐁ ᐃᑎᐦᑖᑾᐦᒃ᙮ ᐋᔕᔾ ᒫᑯᓂᑯᐤ ᒥᑭᓯᐗ᙮

ᐁᒀᓂ ᑳ ᐃᔑ ᑭᐦᒋᐎᓕᑯᑦ ᓈᔅᐱᒡ ᐙᓚᐤ᙮ ᐃᔅᐱ ᒫᑲ ᓈᔅᐱᒡ ᐙᓚᐤ ᐁᐦᑖᑦ ᑫᑲ ᐙᐸᐦᑕᒻ ᓈᔅᐱᒡ ᐁ ᐃᔥᐹᒃ ᐗᒋᔾ᙮ ᐁᑯ ᐊᐗ ᒥᑭᓯᐤ ᐐ ᐅᑖᒥᔑᒣᐤ ᐆᐦᐃ ᐃᓕᓕᐗ ᐊᓯᓃᐦᒃ᙮ ᐊᐗ ᒫᑲ ᓈᐯᐤ ᐊᔮᐸᓐ ᐅᑦ ᐁᔥᑲᓐ᙮ ᐁᐗᑴᓕᐤ ᒫᑲ ᐁ ᓇᑲᐦᒋᐦᑎᑖᑦ ᐊᓯᓃᐦᒃ᙮ ᒨᓚ ᒫᑲ ᑮ ᐅᑖᒥᔑᒥᑯᐤ ᐆᐦᐃ ᒥᑭᓯᐗ᙮ ᑮ ᐅᑎᐦᒋᐎᓕᑯᐤ ᒫᑲ ᐗᒋᔥᑐᓂᐦᒃ᙮ ᐁᑯᑖᓂ ᑳ ᐸᑭᑎᓂᑯᑦ᙮ ᒨᓚ ᑮ ᐅᐦᒋ ᓂᐸᐦᐃᑯᐤ᙮ ᐁᑰᑕ ᒫᑲ ᐁᐦᑖᑦ ᐊᐗ ᓈᐯᐤ᙮

ᐯᔭᒄ ᒫᑲ ᐊᐗ ᒥᑭᓯᐤ ᐱᑯ ᒦᒋᒥᓕᐤ ᒦᒋᐤ, ᒨᔀ, ᐊᑎᐦᑾ ᒫᑲ᙮ ᐊᓐᑕ ᒫᑲ ᐁ ᑕᔒᐦᑫᑦ ᐊᐗ ᓈᐯᐤ ᐁᑯᑖᓂ ᐌᐦᒋ ᒦᒋᓱᑦ ᐁ ᐯᑖᓕᒋ ᒦᒋᒥᓕᐤ ᐆᐦᐃ ᒥᑭᓯᐗ᙮ ᐊᐗ ᒫᑲ ᒥᑭᓯᐤ ᐃᓕᓕᐗ ᑳ ᒧᐙᑦ, ᑮᔖᔥᐱᓐ ᐁ ᐙᐸᐦᑕᐦᒃ ᒦᑭᐙᒻ ᐁᒀᓂ ᐁᔑ ᑭᐦᒋᐎᑖᑦ ᒥᓯᐌ ᑫᒀᓐ ᐊᓐᑕ ᐁ ᐲᐦᒋᐦᑎᐦᒃ᙮ ᐊᐗ ᒫᑲ ᓈᐯᐤ ᑳ ᐐᒋ ᑕᔒᐦᑫᒫᑦ ᒥᑭᓯᐗ ᐁᑯᑖᓂ ᐌᐦᑎᓇᐦᒃ ᑫ ᐋᐸᒋᐦᑖᑦ ᒥᓯᐌ ᑫᒀᓐ᙮

ᐃᐦᑖᐗᒃ ᒫᑲ ᐊᔭᐦᐋᔑᔕᒃ ᐊᓐᑕ ᐗᒋᔥᑐᓂᐦᒃ᙮ ᐆᑭ ᒫᑲ ᒥᑭᓯᐗᒃ ᒨᔕᒃ ᓂᐹᐗᒃ ᐁ ᑮᔑᑳᒃ ᒣᒀᒡ ᐁ ᑭᔖᔥᑌᒃ᙮ ᐊᐗ ᒫᑲ ᒥᑭᓯᐤ ᑳ ᐯᑖᑦ ᒦᑭᐙᒪ, ᓈᔅᐱᒡ ᒥᐦᒉᑦ ᑮ ᐯᑖᐤ ᐊᓐᑕ ᐗᔥᑾᔨ ᐊᐸᐦᒀᓇ᙮ ᐊᐗ ᒫᑲ ᓈᐯᐤ ᐊᓐᑕ ᑳ ᐃᐦᑖᑦ ᑮ ᒫᒋ ᐱᑭᔥᑭᐱᑕᒻ ᐊᓂᐦᐃ ᐗᔥᑾᔨ ᐊᐸᐦᒀᓇ᙮ ᑮ ᐱᔅᑯᐦᑎᑖᐤ ᒫᑲ ᐙᔅᑳ ᐊᓐᑕ ᐗᒋᔥᑐᓂᐦᒃ᙮ ᐁᑯ ᒫᑲ ᒣᒀᒡ ᐁ ᓂᐹᒋᒃ ᐆᑭ ᒥᑭᓯᐗᒃ, ᒣᒀᒡ ᐁ ᑭᔖᔥᑌᒃ ᐁ ᑮᔑᑳᒃ, ᑮ ᓴᔅᑲᐦᐊᒻ ᐆᐦᐃ ᐗᔥᑾᔭ᙮ ᐆᑭ ᒫᑲ ᒥᑭᓯᐗᒃ ᐃᔅᐱ ᑫᔅᑫᓕᐦᑕᐦᑭᒃ ᐁ ᐸᓯᓱᒋᒃ ᐊᔮᐦᒋᐸᓕᐦᑣᐗᒃ ᐅᑕᐦᑲᑾᓂᐙᐗ᙮ ᐋᐦᒋᐱᑯ ᒫᑲ ᐸᓯᑌᐸᓕᐤ᙮ ᒥᓯᐌ ᒫᑲ ᑮ ᐃᔥᒀᓱᐗᒃ᙮ ᒥᓯᐌ ᑮ ᓂᐱᐗᒃ᙮ ᐊᐗ ᒫᑲ ᓈᐯᐤ ᑭ ᐱᑭᔥᑭᑲᐦᐌᐤ ᐆᐦᐃ ᒥᑭᓯᐗ᙮ ᓈᔅᐱᒡ ᑮ ᐊᔮᐱᔒᔑᐦᐁᐤ᙮ ᐁᐗᒀᓂ ᒫᑲ ᐁ ᑮᔑᑳᒃ ᑳ ᒫᒋ ᐊᔮᐱᔒᔑᒋᒃ ᒥᑭᓯᐗᒃ᙮

ᐊᐗ ᒫᑲ ᓈᐯᐤ ᑮ ᑯᒋᐦᑖᐤ ᑭᒋ ᓃᔖᐦᑕᐐᑦ ᐊᓐᑕ ᐅᐦᒋ᙮ ᒨᓚ ᒫᑲ ᑮ ᑲᔥᑭᐦᑖᐤ᙮ ᐆᒪ ᐗᒋᔾ ᓈᔅᐱᒡ ᑮ ᐃᔥᐹᐤ᙮ ᐯᔭᒄ ᒫᑲ ᐆᐦᐃ ᐊᔭᐦᐋᔑᔕ ᒨᓚ ᑮ ᐅᐦᒋ ᐱᓯᔅᑫᓕᒣᐤ᙮ ᑮ ᐗᓚᐐᐱᑕᒬᐤ ᐱᑯ ᐅᑕᑭᔒᓕᐤ᙮ ᐊᐗ ᒫᑲ ᓈᐯᐤ ᑮ ᐲᐦᑐᑫᐤ ᐊᓐᑕ ᒥᑭᓯᐗ ᐎᔭᐎᓖᐦᒃ᙮ ᑮ ᑭᐸᐦᐅᑎᓱᐤ ᒫᑲ ᐁᑯ ᒫᑲ ᑳ ᑏᐦᑏᐦᑎᐱᐸᓕᐦᐅᑦ ᐊᓐᑕ ᐁ ᐲᐦᒋᔑᐦᒃ᙮ ᐁᒀᓇ ᒫᑲ ᑳ ᐃᔑ ᐸᐦᑭᔑᐦᒃ ᐊᓐᑕ ᐅᐦᒋ ᐗᒌᐦᒃ᙮ ᒨᓚ ᒫᑲ ᑮ ᐅᐦᒋ ᐋᐦᑯᔑᓐ ᑳ ᐃᔥᒀ ᐸᐦᑭᔑᐦᒃ᙮ ᑮ ᐗᓚᐐᐤ ᐊᓐᑕ ᐅᐦᒋ᙮

ᓈᔅᐱᒡ ᒫᑲ ᐙᓚᐤ ᐃᐦᑖᐤ ᐊᓐᑕ ᑳ ᑮ ᐅᐦᒋ ᑭᐦᒋᐎᓕᑯᑦ ᐆᐦᐃ ᒥᑭᓯᐗ᙮ ᑮ ᑯᒋᐦᑖᐤ ᒫᑲ ᑭᒋ ᑮᐌᑦ ᐅᑦ ᐊᔅᑮᐦᒃ᙮ ᐊᐗ ᒫᑲ ᓈᐯᐤ ᓈᔅᐱᒡ ᒥᐦᒉᑦ ᐲᑐᔥ ᐁ ᐃᔑᓈᑯᓯᓕᒋ ᐃᓕᓕᐗ ᑮ ᐙᐸᒣᐤ᙮ ᐊᐗ ᓈᐯᐤ ᐱᑯ ᑮ ᐯᔭᑯᐤ ᒬᐦᒋ ᐆᒪ ᐁ ᐃᔑᓈᑯᓯᑦ ᐊᓄᐦᒡ ᑳ ᐃᔑᓈᑯᓯᒋᒃ ᐃᓕᓕᐗᒃ᙮ ᒨᓚ ᐐᓚ ᐁᔥᑾ ᐃᔅᑴᐤ ᐃᐦᑖᐸᓐ ᐆᒪ ᐁ ᐃᔑᓈᑯᓯᑦ ᑳ ᐃᔑᓈᑯᓯᒋᒃ ᐊᓄᐦᒡ ᐃᔅᑴᐗᒃ᙮

ᐊᐗ ᒫᑲ ᓈᐯᐤ, ᐃᔅᐱ ᐙᓚᐤ ᓇᐗᒡ ᑳ ᐯᒋ ᑮᐌᑦ, ᐙᐸᐦᑕᒻ ᐁ ᓇᒣᐦᑖᓕᒋ ᐃᓕᓕᐗ᙮ ᐙᐸᐦᑕᒻ ᓈᔅᐱᒡ ᒥᐦᒉᑦ ᒦᒋᒥᓕᐤ ᐁ ᐲᐗᔥᑌᓕᒃ᙮ ᑮ ᑯᒋᐦᑖᐤ ᒫᑲ ᑭᒋ ᒦᒋᑦ ᐆᐦᐃ ᒦᒋᒪ᙮ ᒨᓚ ᑮ ᒦᒋᐤ᙮ ᒨᓚ ᐙᒡ ᒫᓂᔒᔥ ᒦᒋᒻ ᐃᔅᐳᑾᓐ, ᐋᔕᔾ ᐁᒋᑳᓂ ᑳ ᐃᔥᒀ ᐋᐸᑕᐦᒃ᙮ ᐆᑭ ᐃᓕᓕᐗᒃ ᑳ ᓇᒣᐦᑖᒋᒃ ᒨᓚ ᒦᒋᓱᐗᒃ, ᐱᑯ ᒥᓛᐦᑕᒶᒃ ᐁ ᒦᒋᓱᒋᒃ᙮ ᒨᓚ ᐅᒋᔥᑭᔑᐗᒃ, ᒥᒍᓂ ᐐᐦᑴᓯᐗᒃ᙮ ᐁᒀᓂ ᐌᐦᒋ ᐁᑳ ᒦᒋᓱᒋᒃ᙮ ᑫᑲ ᒫᑲ ᐊᐗ ᓈᐯᐤ ᐅᑎᐦᑌᐤ ᐆᐦᐃ ᐃᓕᓕᐗ᙮ ᐁᑯᑕ ᒫᑲ ᑳ ᑕᔒᐦᑫᑦ ᓇᑭᔅᑲᐤ᙮ ᐯᔭᒄ ᒫᑲ ᐊᐙᔑᔥ ᑮ ᑭᔅᑭᓇᐙᐸᒥᑯᐤ ᐁ ᒦᒋᓱᑦ᙮ ᐁᒀᓂ ᑳ ᐊᑎ ᓂᐱᑦ ᐊᓇ ᐊᐙᔑᔥ᙮ ᐊᐗ ᒫᑲ ᓈᐯᐤ ᐃᑌᐤ ᐆᐦᐃ ᐃᓕᓕᐗ, ᒫᐦᑎ ᑭᑲ ᑲᓇᐙᐸᒥᑎᓈᐙᐤ ᑖᓂ ᐁᔑᓈᑯᓯᔦᒄ, ᐃᑌᐤ᙮ ᐁᑯ ᑖᐺ ᒥᓯᐌ ᑮ ᑲᓇᐙᐸᒣᐤ᙮ ᒨᓚ ᐁᒋᑲ ᐅᒋᔥᑭᔑᐗᒃ ᐆᑭ ᐃᓕᓕᐗᒃ᙮ ᐁᒀᓂ ᐯᔭᑾᓐ ᓀᔥᑕ ᐃᔅᑴᐗᒃ, ᒥᒍᓂ ᐐᐦᑴᓯᐗᒃ᙮ ᐊᐗ ᒫᑲ ᓈᐯᐤ ᐃᑌᐤ, ᒪᔦᐎᑌ ᐅᔖᓂ ᐁᔑᓈᑯᓯᔦᒄ, ᐃᑌᐤ᙮ ᒫᒋᑲ ᓃᓚ ᐁᔑᓈᑯᓯᔮᓐ, ᐃᑌᐤ᙮ ᐙᐸᐦᑎᓓᐤ ᒫᑲ ᐅᒋᔥᑲ᙮ ᐁᑯ ᒥᓯᐌ ᐁ ᑕᔑᒋᒃ ᐆᑭ ᐃᓕᓕᐗᒃ ᓈᔅᐱᒡ ᐯᔓᒡ ᑲᓇᐙᐸᒣᐗᒃ ᐆᐦᐃ ᒥᒋᔥᑲ᙮ ᐁᑯ ᐯᔭᒄ ᐊᓐᑕ ᐁ ᑕᔑᒋᒃ ᐌᐦᒋ ᐃᑗᑦ, ᐁᐦᐁ ᑳ ᐊᓴᒧᓯᑦ, ᐃᑗᐤ᙮ ᐁᑯ ᐊᐗ ᓈᐯᐤ ᐃᑌᐤ ᐆᐦᐅ ᐃᓕᓕᐗ, ᑭᑲ ᐅᔑᐦᐃᑎᓈᐙᐤ, ᐃᑌᐤ᙮ ᐁᑯ ᐊᐗ ᓈᐯᐤ ᐅᑎᓇᒻ ᒨᐦᑯᒫᓐ ᐁᑯ ᒥᓯᐌ ᑮ ᒫᒋᔗᐤ ᐆᐦᐃ ᐃᓕᓕᐗ᙮ ᑫᑲ ᒫᑲ ᒥᐦᒉᑦ ᐁᑎ ᒫᒋᔣᑦ᙮ ᑫᑲ ᒨᓚ ᔕᐎᔑᑳᑫᐤ ᐅ ᒨᐦᑯᒫᓐ᙮ ᐁᑯ ᒫᑲ ᑮ ᑖᔑᐳᑖᐤ᙮ ᒨᓚ ᒫᑲ ᑭᔅᑫᓕᐦᑕᒻ ᓈᔅᐱᒡ ᐁ ᑳᔖᓕᒃ ᓃᔥᑕᒻ ᒫᑲ ᐁ ᒫᒋᔑᑳᑫᑦ ᑳ ᐃᔥᒀ ᑖᔑᐳᑖᑦ᙮ ᐌᓵ ᒥᔥᑕᐦᐃ ᑮ ᒫᒋᔗᐤ᙮ ᐁᐗᒀᓇ ᒫᑲ ᐃᔅᑴᐤ᙮ ᐁᐗᒀᓂ ᒫᑲ ᐁ ᑮᔑᑳᒃ ᑳ ᒫᒋ ᐸᓯᑎᔦᒋᒃ ᐃᓕᓕᐗᒃ ᓀᔥᑕ ᐃᔅᑴᐗᒃ᙮ ᐁᒀᓂᒪ ᑳ ᒫᒋ ᐃᔑᓇᑯᓯᒋᒃ ᐊᓄᐦᒡ ᑳ ᐃᔑᓇᑯᓯᒋᒃ᙮ ᐁᒀᓂ ᒫᑲ ᐊᓂᐦᐃ ᐁ ᑮ ᐅᔑᐦᐋᑦ ᐊᐗ ᓈᐯᐤ᙮ ᐁᑯ ᒦᓇ ᑳ ᐯᒋ ᑭᐦᑐᐦᑌᑦ᙮

ᑫᑲ ᒦᓇ ᐅᑎᐦᑌᐤ ᑯᑕᑭᔭ ᐃᓕᓕᐗ᙮ ᐆᑭ ᒫᑲ ᐃᓕᓕᐗᒃ ᑮ ᐅᓲᐗᒃ᙮ ᐸᑾᓀᐦᐊᒶᒃ ᒫᑲ ᐊᔅᑭᔾ ᐁᔑ ᑖᐱᐦᑎᑖᒋᒃ ᐅᓱᐙᐗ᙮ ᐊᐗ ᓈᐯᐤ ᒥᓯᐌ ᑮ ᑮᔥᑳᓗᐌᐦᐌᐤ ᐆᐦᐅ ᐃᓕᓕᐗ᙮ ᐁᒀᓂ ᒫᑲ ᐌᐦᒋ ᐁᑳ ᐅᓲᒋᒃ ᐃᓕᓕᐗᒃ᙮ ᐊᐗ ᓈᐯᐤ ᒦᓇ ᑮ ᐯᒋ ᑭᐦᑐᐦᑌᐤ᙮

ᑮ ᐅᑎᐦᑌᐤ ᑯᑕᑭᔭ ᐃᓕᓕᐗ᙮ ᐆᑭ ᒫᑲ ᐃᓕᓕᐗᒃ ᒨᓚ ᐙᐱᐗᒃ ᐁ ᑮᔑᑳᒃ᙮ ᐊᐗ ᓈᐯᐤ ᐃᑖᐱᐤ ᐲᐦᒋ ᐊᓐᑕ ᒦᑭᐙᒥᐦᒃ᙮ ᐊᐗ ᓈᐯᐤ ᐙᐸᐦᑕᒻ ᐊᔅᑭᐦᒄ ᓈᔅᐱᒡ ᒥᔥᑕᐦᐃ ᐱᒥᔾ ᐊᓐᑕ ᐁ ᐊᑯᐦᑎᐦᒃ᙮ ᐁᑯ ᐊᐗ ᓈᐯᐤ ᐲᐦᑐᑫᐤ ᐊᓂᒪ ᒦᑭᐙᒻ᙮ ᒦᒋᐤ ᐊᓂᒪ ᐱᒥᔾ ᐊᔅᑭᐦᑯᐦᒃ ᐅᐦᒋ᙮ ᐁᑯ ᐆᑭ ᐃᓕᓕᐗᒃ ᐁᑳ ᐁ ᐙᐱᒋᒃ ᑭᔅᑫᓕᐦᑕᒶᒃ ᐊᐌᓂᐦᑳᓐ ᐁ ᒦᒋᑦ ᐊᓂᒪ ᐱᒥᔾ᙮ ᐆᑭ ᒫᑲ ᐃᓕᓕᐗᒃ ᑮᓂᑳᓕᐗ ᐅᑑᔅᑾᓂᐙᐗ᙮ ᐁᐗᑯ ᒫᑲ ᐃᔮᐸᒋᐦᑖᒋᒃ ᐁ ᓂᐸᐦᑖᒋᒃ ᑫᒀᓐ᙮ ᐊᐗ ᒫᑲ ᓈᐯᐤ ᒪᓂᓇᒻ ᐊᓂᒪ ᑭᔥᑐᐦᑲᓐ, ᐌᐱᓇᒪᐌᐤ ᒫᑲ ᐆᐦᐃ ᐃᓕᓕᐗ᙮ ᐊᐗ ᒫᑲ ᐯᔭᒄ ᐃᓕᓕᐤ, ᐋᔕᔾ ᐊᐌᓂᐦᑳᓐ ᓂ ᒀᔥᑯᐦᑐᑖᒄ, ᐃᑌᓕᐦᑕᒻ᙮ ᐁᒀᓂ ᐁᔑ ᑕᐦᑲᐦᒋᑳᑫᑦ ᐊᓂᒪ ᐅᑑᔅᑾᓐ᙮ ᒬᐦᒋ ᒫᑲ ᐅᒡ ᐊᐙᔑᒥᔕ ᒦᔅᑯᐦᐌᐤ᙮ ᐁᒀᓂ ᐁ ᑮ ᓂᐸᐦᐋᑦ᙮ ᐊᐗ ᒫᑲ ᓈᐯᐤ ᐁᒀᓂ ᑳ ᐯᒋ ᑮᐌᑦ ᑮ ᐅᑎᐦᑕᒻ ᐅᑦ ᐊᔅᑭᔾ᙮

The above story is an âtayôhkân, a traditional Cree story. A shortened version of this story was first published in 1881 in Horden’s A Grammar of Cree Language under the name “An Indian’s Adventure.” A bilingual version of it was published here on June 24, 2015. This first published version is notable for lacking key parts of the story, which are included in the version presented above. The latter was collected by the linguist Truman Michelson in 1935 during his fieldwork in Moose Factory. He gathered the story in syllabics and attributed it to a certain Harvey Smallboy. This is its first publication (December 5, 2018).

The story’s syllabic orthography has been updated to include vowel lengths and aspirates. The whole was also read to Hilda Jeffries, a fluent Cree-speaking elder from Moose Factory, who approved of the reading and corroborated the story as one she was told by her late uncle when she was young. She recalls the giant birds being called miši-mikisiw, but was also familiar with their alternate name, mištasiw, which is the name used in the version from 1881.

Source: Cree notes and texts collected by Truman Michelson, 1935 Summer [NAA MS 3394, notebook 1, 2, &3, National Anthropological Archives, Smithsonian Institution]

Waswanipi

The following blogpost was originally published on October 13, 2014 on another blog of mine. Save for a few typographical modifications, the post is presented here in its original form.

Only recently have I noticed how Waswanipi’s community emblem was changed from its original design. This must have happened years ago, but somehow it managed to escape my attention. I can distinctly remember the original emblem from my youth, with its torch suspended over the water. But the torch has now been replaced by the moon, which appears to be a better fit for the common, but erroneous, translation of ‘light on the water.’ For those not familiar with the design of the original emblem, here it is on a pin.

99802_Waswanipi_Logo1

The above emblem evidently pointed to the meaning of the name, which must have naturally been understood by those who designed it. The name, spelled Wâswânipiy using a standard orthography, literally translates into ‘torch-fishing lake,’ in reference to a traditional method of luring fish with light, hence the central position of the torch in the community’s emblem. The meaning, however, has largely faded into obscurity as the practice it describes was abandoned, probably in favour of more productive harvesting methods. Already a distant memory in the minds of elders in the 1970s, the practice of fishing by torchlight was eventually forgotten by the community who instead adopted a simplified “light on the water” translation for the community’s name. The result is a new emblem where the moon figures centrally over a lake, obscuring the original meaning of the name.

2631514463_5a4af0383f

The word wâswânipiy is composed of wâswân, meaning ‘torch-fishing place’ and …piy, a contracted form of nipiy used in reference to lakes (examples include mašcekopiy, ‘a pond surrounded by muskeg’ and amiskopiy, ‘a beaver pond’). Wâswân is itself a noun derived from the verb stem wâswe-, meaning ‘to fish by torchlight using a leister.’ In the not-so-distant past, this traditional fishing method was common throughout Cree country. The word is recorded as early as the late 1600s in manuscript dictionaries of the Cree language compiled by Jesuits Antoine Silvy and Bonaventure Fabvre. In the early 1700s, the Jesuit Pierre-Michel Laure again notes the word, translating it as ‘je vais au flambeau pêcher…’ But it is the Jesuit Paul LeJeune’s description from the Relations in the earlier 1600s that deserve attention. The following is a translation of LeJeune’s description, taken from page 311 of volume 6 of the Thwaites edition of the Relations.

This harpoon fishing is usually done only at night. Two Savages enter a canoe,—one at the stern, who handles the oars, and the other at the bow, who, by the light of a bark torch fastened to the prow of his boat, looks around searchingly for the prey, floating gently along the shores of this great river. When he sees an Eel, he thrusts his harpoon down, without loosening his hold of it, pierces it in the manner I have described, then throws it into his canoe. There are certain ones who will take three hundred in one night, and even more, sometimes very few. It is wonderful how many of these fish are found in this great river, in the months of September and October; and this immediately in front of the settlement of our French, some of whom, having lived several years in this country, have become as expert as the Savages in this art.

Aside from his questionable use of the word ‘Savages,’ LeJeune’s description beautifully details the performance of this nocturnal harvest, which Paul Kane captures on canvas in 1845.

Paul Kane

‘Fishing by Torch Light’ is an 1845 oil-on-paper sketch by Paul Kane (1810-1871).

While fishing with leisters is a tradition that has continued into modern times, the practice of doing so at night using torches has been lost in Waswanipi, as in most of Cree country. There are regions, however, where the practice has been remembered, and others where the practice has continued. In fact, the online Innu Dictionary continues to list vocabulary associated with the activity. In 1995, our relatives in what is now called Labrador took some students out on the land to experience our traditional culture. Included was torch-fishing with leisters. The following is a photograph of the students learning this age-old tradition.

Nutshimiu Atusseun Program: students salmon spearing at Tshenuamiu River 1995. Photo: Anthony Jenkinson

Nutshimiu Atusseun Program: students salmon spearing at Tshenuamiu River 1995. Photo: Anthony Jenkinson

This picture perfectly illustrates the meaning of Wâswânipiy, a lake where our people fished with leisters by torchlight. With the growing interest in our traditional culture, now might be the time to reintroduce this tradition. Either way, putting the torch back on the community’s emblem would be a good start!


A Glossary for Torch-Fishing

anihtokan. noun (inanimate); the barbed point of a leister

anihtoy. noun (animate); a leister

anihtoyâhtikw. noun (inanimate); the wooden handle of a leister

tahkamew. verb (transitive, animate); s/he spears it

wâswâkan. noun (inanimate); a torch used for night-fishing

wâswâkanaškway. noun (inanimate); a birchbark torch used for night-fishing

wâswân. noun (inanimate); place where people fish by torchlight using leisters

Wâswânipiy. place name; lake where people fish by torchlight using leisters

wâswâniwiw. verb (intransitive, inanimate); people are fishing by torchlight using leisters

wâswetotawew. verb (transitive, animate); s/he harvests it by torchlight using a leister

wâswew. verb (intransitive, animate); s/he fishes by torchlight using a leister

 

The Roc

sinbad_giant_roc

Ililiw nîpâ-kîwekopan e kî natawešket sâkahikanihk. Mitâwakâm pimâtakâskôpan. Ot eškan piminikâtahamokopan.
ᐃᓕᓕᐤ ᓃᐹ ᑮᐌᑯᐸᓐ ᐁ ᑮ ᓇᑕᐌᔥᑫᑦ ᓵᑲᐦᐃᑲᓂᐦᒃ᙮ ᒥᑖᐗᑳᒻ ᐱᒫᑕᑳᔅᑰᐸᓐ᙮ ᐅᑦ ᐁᔥᑲᓐ ᐱᒥᓂᑳᑕᐦᐊᒧᑯᐸᓐ᙮
The man must have been heading home at night after hunting beaver on the lake.  He was walking out on the ice and would have been carrying his chisel over his shoulder.

Mištasiwa mâka kî ohpaholikow. Kî wâpamew kotakiya ililiwa e wâštahowelici, eko mâka e iši-tepwet, “Mištasiw ni pimaholikw kîlawâw kâ wâštahoweyekw!”
ᒥᔥᑕᓯᐗ ᒫᑲ ᑮ ᐅᐦᐸᐦᐅᓕᑯᐤ᙮ ᑮ ᐙᐸᒣᐤ ᑯᑕᑭᔭ ᐃᓕᓕᐗ ᐁ ᐙᔥᑕᐦᐅᐌᓕᒋ, ᐁᑯ ᒫᑲ ᐁ ᐃᔑ ᑌᐺᑦ, ᒥᔥᑕᓯᐤ ᓂ ᐱᒪᐦᐅᓕᒄ ᑮᓚᐙᐤ ᑳ ᐙᔥᑕᐦᐅᐌᔦᒄ!
That’s when the Roc plucked him from the ground. Seeing men waving he cries out, “You who are waving! The Roc has taken me!”

Nâspic mâka e išpâpiskâlik kî iši-pakitaholikow ita e iši-itašelici.
ᓈᔅᐱᒡ ᒫᑲ ᐁ ᐃᔥᐹᐱᔅᑳᓕᒃ ᑮ ᐃᔑ ᐸᑭᑕᐦᐅᓕᑯᐤ ᐃᑕ ᐁ ᐃᔑ ᐃᑕᔐᓕᒋ᙮
It dropped him in a high rocky place where it brooded.

Môšak mâka kihcilâw Mištasiw e natawahot. Misiwe mâka tôwihkâna petaholew, atihkwa nešta môswa.
ᒨᔕᒃ ᒫᑲ ᑭᐦᒋᓛᐤ ᒥᔥᑕᓯᐤ ᐁ ᓇᑕᐗᐦᐅᑦ᙮ ᒥᓯᐌ ᒫᑲ ᑑᐎᐦᑳᓇ ᐯᑕᐦᐅᓓᐤ, ᐊᑎᐦᑾ ᓀᔥᑕ ᒨᔀ᙮
Now, the Roc would constantly fly off to hunt. It would bring back all kinds of animals, caribou and moose.

Ana ililiw nâspic kî nanâhîhkawew mištašîšiša e ašamât wacištonihk e ihtâlici. Misiwe kekwâliw tôtamawew.
ᐊᓇ ᐃᓕᓕᐤ ᓈᔅᐱᒡ ᑮ ᓇᓈᐦᐄᐦᑲᐌᐤ ᒥᔥᑕᔒᔑᔕ ᐁ ᐊᔕᒫᑦ ᐗᒋᔥᑐᓂᐦᒃ ᐁ ᐃᐦᑖᓕᒋ᙮ ᒥᓯᐌ ᑫᒀᓕᐤ ᑑᑕᒪᐌᐤ᙮
The man really took care of the young rocs as he fed them in their nest. He did everything for them.

Keka mihcetw waškwaya petahotâw Mištasiw. Eko ana ililiw pâsipitahk e wacištonihkawât mištasiwa.
ᑫᑲ ᒥᐦᒉᑦ ᐗᔥᑾᔭ ᐯᑕᐦᐅᑖᐤ ᒥᔥᑕᓯᐤ᙮ ᐁᑯ ᐊᓇ ᐃᓕᓕᐤ ᐹᓯᐱᑕᐦᒃ ᐁ ᐗᒋᔥᑐᓂᐦᑲᐙᑦ ᒥᔥᑕᓯᐗ᙮
By and by the Roc brings back much birch bark, which the man rips to pieces as he makes their nest.

Nâspic kispakihkwašikopan Mištasiw e nipât. šay mâka wawânelihtam ililiw ke tôtahk. Itelihtam, “Nika wî kakwe-nipahâwak. Mâhti! Nika saskahwâwak mekwâc e nipâcik waškwâhk e pimišihkik.” Keka peyakwâw mekwâc e nipâlici kî saskahwew eko wetatâmahwât ot eškan ohci. Misiwe mâka kî nipahew.
ᓈᔅᐱᒡ ᑭᔅᐸᑭᐦᑾᔑᑯᐸᓐ ᒥᔥᑕᓯᐤ ᐁ ᓂᐹᑦ᙮ ᐋᔕᔾ ᒫᑲ ᐗᐙᓀᓕᐦᑕᒻ ᐃᓕᓕᐤ ᑫ ᑑᑕᐦᒃ᙮ ᐃᑌᓕᐦᑕᒻ, ᓂᑲ ᐐ ᑲᑴ ᓂᐸᐦᐋᐗᒃ᙮ ᒫᐦᑎ, ᓂᑲ ᓴᔅᑲᐦᐙᐗᒃ ᒣᒀᒡ ᐁ ᓂᐹᒋᒃ ᐗᔥᒀᐦᒃ ᐁ ᐱᒥᔑᐦᑭᒃ! ᑫᑲ ᐯᔭᒀᐤ ᒣᒀᒡ ᐁ ᓂᐹᓕᒋ ᑮ ᓴᔅᑲᐦᐌᐤ ᐁᑯ ᐌᑕᑖᒪᐦᐙᑦ ᐅᑦ ᐁᔥᑲᓐ ᐅᐦᒋ᙮ ᒥᓯᐌ ᒫᑲ ᑮ ᓂᐸᐦᐁᐤ᙮
The Roc must have passed out hard when it slept. Now the man is already at a loss for what to do. He thinks to himself, “I’m going to have to try to kill them. Let me see, I’ll light them up as they lie asleep in the birch bark!” In due course, one day as they slept, the man lit them on fire and beat them with his chisel. He killed them all.

Eko mâka etelihtahk, “Tânte kê kî kîweyân?” Peyakw mâka mištašîšiša ospiskwanâliw e šîkwâhkahtelik pîhcišimolow. Eko tiyîhtipipalihot nâspic e išpâpiskâlik ohci. Keka kipihcipaliw. Walawîw. Itâpiw. Akâwâc tepâpahtam askîliw. Tâpiskôc aštâhkonak e aspišimonihkâniwahk išinâkwan e išinâkosicik mištikwak.
ᐁᑯ ᒫᑲ ᐁᑌᓕᐦᑕᒃ, ᑖᓐᑌ ᑫ ᑮ ᑮᐌᔮᓐ? ᐯᔭᒄ ᒫᑲ ᒥᔥᑕᔒᔑᔕ ᐅᔅᐱᔅᑾᓈᓕᐤ ᐁ ᔒᒀᐦᑲᐦᑌᓕᒃ ᐲᐦᒋᔑᒧᓗᐤ᙮ ᐁᑯ ᑎᔩᐦᑎᐱᐸᓕᐦᐅᑦ ᓈᔅᐱᒡ ᐁ ᐃᔥᐹᐱᔅᑳᓕᒃ ᐅᐦᒋ᙮ ᑫᑲ ᑭᐱᐦᒋᐸᓕᐤ᙮ ᐗᓚᐐᐤ᙮ ᐃᑖᐱᐤ᙮ ᐊᑳᐙᒡ ᑌᐹᐸᐦᑕᒻ ᐊᔅᑮᓕᐤ᙮ ᑖᐱᔅᑰᒡ ᐊᔥᑖᐦᑯᓇᒃ ᐁ ᐊᔅᐱᔑᒧᓂᐦᑳᓂᐗᐦᒃ ᐃᔑᓈᑾᓐ ᐁ ᐃᔑᓈᑯᓯᒋᒃ ᒥᔥᑎᑾᒃ᙮
He then thinks to himself, “How will I manage to get home?” Of the little rocs’ incinerated bodies, only their backs remained. Squeezing himself into one of these backs, he rolls himself down from that high rocky place. Eventually he stops rolling. He climbs out. He looks around. He can barely see the earth. The trees (look so small) they resemble a litter of boughs.

Eko mîna tiyîhtipipalihot. Mîna kipihcipaliw. Ewako ôma askiy.
ᐁᑯ ᒦᓇ ᑎᔩᐦᑎᐱᐸᓕᐦᐅᑦ᙮ ᒦᓇ ᑭᐱᐦᒋᐸᓕᐤ᙮ ᐁᐗᑯ ᐆᒪ ᐊᔅᑮ᙮
So he rolls himself down again and again he stops. This then is the earth.

Eko welawît. Eko miyâcît. Ililiwa otihtew ekâ e nihtâ-mîcisolici, piko e milâhtamilici. Ekwâni e tôtamilici e mîcisolici. Kî ašamikow mâka. Eko mâka peyakw ot awâšimišiliwa kâ kiskinawâpamikot e mîcisot.
ᐁᑯ ᐌᓚᐐᑦ᙮ ᐁᑯ ᒥᔮᒌᑦ᙮ ᐃᓕᓕᐗ ᐅᑎᐦᑌᐤ ᐁᑳ ᐁ ᓂᐦᑖ ᒦᒋᓱᓕᒋ, ᐱᑯ ᐁ ᒥᓛᐦᑕᒥᓕᒋ᙮ ᐁᒀᓂ ᐁ ᑑᑕᒥᓕᒋ ᐁ ᒦᒋᓱᓕᒋ᙮ ᑮ ᐊᔕᒥᑯᐤ ᒫᑲ᙮ ᐁᑯ ᒫᑲ ᐯᔭᒄ ᐅᑦ ᐊᐙᔑᒥᔑᓕᐗ ᑳ ᑭᔅᑭᓇᐙᐸᒥᑯᑦ ᐁ ᒦᒋᓱᑦ᙮
So he gets out and then starts off. He reaches a group of people that do not know how to eat for real – they only smell. That’s how they eat. So they fed him and one of their children learned how to eat by watching him.

Mîna mâka wetihtât aweliwa – ewakwânihi wîwa. Namawîla mâka ohci kiskelimikow wîwa wîla e âwit. Ôma mâka kî itew, “Nîla ô kâ kî kihtaholit Mištasiw!”
ᒦᓇ ᒫᑲ ᐌᑎᐦᑖᑦ ᐊᐌᓕᐗ – ᐁᐗᒀᓂᐦᐃ ᐐᐗ᙮ ᓇᒪᐐᓚ ᒫᑲ ᐅᐦᒋ ᑭᔅᑫᓕᒥᑯᐤ ᐐᐗ ᐐᓚ ᐁ ᐋᐎᑦ᙮ ᐆᒪ ᒫᑲ ᑮ ᐃᑌᐤ, ᓃᓚ ᐆ ᑳ ᑮ ᑭᐦᑕᐦᐅᓕᑦ ᒥᔥᑕᓯᐤ!
Again he reaches someone, this one is his wife. She does not know however that it is him (he must have been unrecognizable by then). So he says to her, “I am the one that was taken by the Roc!”


This story was first published in 1881 in Horden’s A Grammar of Cree Language under the name “An Indian’s Adventure.” Although it was first published in an Anglican alphabetic orthography and provided with an interlinear translation, Horden described it as a story first “written by a native in the syllabic characters…” that was included in the grammar so language learners could get a sense of “the Cree idiom and the arrangement of words in sentences.” As a traditional story originally written by a native Moose Cree-speaker in the late 1800s, it is perhaps one of the earliest examples of a genuine Cree language âtayôhkân. In this blogpost, the alphabetic orthography has been modernized and provided with its equivalent in syllabics. The story was also retranslated into English for the benefit of non-Cree speakers. Finally, a few minor adjustments and corrections were made to the text to facilitate its reading. This story was published on this blog on June 24, 2015.