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CHIPPEWA MONOLOGUES
W'at's come treaty now! Ugh?
No got-um plenty grub!'Cheebway got-um small flat belly;No got-um wite man's big fat belly!
Comes soon de Winter-Maker,Blowing on de river wit' hees icy breat',With repressedemotion—gathering inpowerAn' making dem stand stillWit' sleep beneat' de snow.An' Nort' Wind whistle crazy-wildT'rough crying spruce an' cedar;An' Muk-wa, ol' fat bear, he sleepAn' sheever in hees hole;An' Peé-nay, hungry pa'tridge,Bury in de balsam snow-drif'.Now walk on Eenzhun wée-ga-wam!'Cheebway sit dere hungry,—In winter no can get-um grub lak mooseWho paw big hole in snow for plenty moss.No got-um plenty money;No got-um w'ite man's grub.Squaw, she got-um sick,—Bad osh-kée-shee-gwa-pee-nay,—She sick on eye lak devil-hell.Sqtiaw-sich, little gal,She got-um measles-sick,De Spotted-Sickness on de face.Little boy, he got-umi heap-sick,—Bad óh-pun-náh-pee-nay,—Bad Coughing-Sickness;
