(THE OFFERING OF TOBACCO)
From his father’s custom of burning tobacco at
the onset of storms, of offering tobacco during journeys in those places deemed
dangerous or sacred, and of implanting tobacco in the earth while gathering
medicine,
Mishi-Waub-kaikaik (Great White Falcon)
learned that his people were always conscious of the presence of Kitchi
Manitou. Where that presence was greatest- at the top of a mountain, in a
whirlpool, in a cave, on a small island, or in a cavern in rooks at the waters
edge. The Anishinabe would offer tobacco to the mysteries who abided there. The
offering was given partially to appease, and partially to acknowledge a
presence. For whatever reason the act was performed, it was always done with
reverence and holiness. No one knew when the practice began. No one could tell
why it was tobacco that was used. But the practice was very old, and Mishi Waub
Kaikaik learned a story about its origins.
Once there was a village, and beside the
village was a mountain whose summit was always hidden by clouds. Even on sunny
days the cloud remained, and thunders echoed around the mountaintop while
lightning flashed in the skies. Thunderbirds were said to live on the
mountains’ crest.
In the village there lived a young man who
longed to see the thunderbirds, or even capture one; and he dared to think of
scaling the mountain. He had no fear of thunderbirds or the deities, and little
regard for traditions that forbade anyone to climb the mountain and enter the
domain of the spirits.
He persuaded another young man to accompany
him, and in preparation for the dangerous adventure both went into fast for
eight days.
On the ninth day, they began their ascent up
the steep sides of the mountain. During their entire journey the rooks shook
with thunder while lightning flashed and flickered. Near the final curtain of
fog and mist the second young man refused to go any further. Voices could be
herd chanting above the mountains rumblings.
Waegonaen maenaepowunt ? Who dares without tobacco?
Waegonaen wauh pagidinigaessik? Who dared
without offering?
Saemauh bizaundae / aekaugae. Tobacco will
allay our anger.
Saemauh waussaeyaukaugae. Tobacco will clear
the cloud.
Boldly the first young man continued to go
forward. As he disappeared through the mist he shouted” I see them! I see
them!” At the same moment there was a mighty roar and a blinding light. When
the thunder died into the distance and the light faded, the mist that had
covered the mountain was no longer there. In the next instant, the young man
who had seen the thunderbirds lost his footing and fell to his death at the
bottom of the mountain.
Never again were the thunders herd or
lightning’s seen on the rocky crests. The people said that the thunderbirds had
abandoned their nesting place and would no longer return.
Their abode had been desecrated and they had
taken revenge. The same mountain sloped into a lake. Where it entered the water
it formed a point; and this point, too, was covered by an ever-present mist.
Whenever anyone ventured near it, winds would suddenly rise and whip the waters
into a mass of curling waves and currents. Many fishermen disappeared near the
point and were though to have drowned.
One day, the second young man who had climbed
the mountain was paddling his canoe not far from the point when he was suddenly
caught in a storm. The wind blew him directly towards the point.
In his struggle to keep from capsizing he
heard someone chanting sadly above the roar of the wind.
Apaegish abeedaubung. Oh! For the light of
day.
Apaegish abeedaubung. Oh! For the light of
day.
Apaegish ginopowauhingobun. Oh! For the taste
of tobacco.
Apaegish zugussowauhingobun. Oh! For the
smell of tobacco.
K’d powauguninaunind tikiziwuk .Our pipes are
cold and empty.
K’d powauguninaunind tikiziwuk. Our pipes are
cold and empty.
Through the fog the young man observed a small
canoe bearing several little people no taller than windflowers. Each passenger
had a pipe, and it was their voices he heard singing.
K’gah baugwaushkaugameechigaemim. We will
stir the waters.
Beenish mukwaenimikohing. Until one
remembers.
Saemauh beendae / aeshkaugae. Tobacco
cleanses my heart.
Saemauh beeninaendumishkaugae. Tobacco
cleanses my mind.
Saemauh bizaundae / aeshkaugae. Tobacco
brings calm.
Then the young man remembered how he and his
companion had heard the chanting about tobacco on the top of the mountain; and
even though he was in danger of floundering, he quickly put his paddle aside.
He took the tobacco that he had with him and
threw it into the waves. As the tobacco floated away, he chanted.
Saemauh n’weekaunaehn. Tobacco is my friend.
Saemauh k’weekaunaehnaun. Tobacco is our
friend.
Saemauh k’weekaunissimikonaun. Tobacco makes
us friends.
The little people had not seen him, and they
were startled by his chant. But they gathered the young mans tobacco from the
waters and filled their pipes.
As if by magic, their canoe glided away
towards the steep cliffs where they and their canoe disappeared into an opening
that closed behind them. Immediately, the fog lifted, and the storm subsided.
And even though the little people were never
seen again, the Anishinabe never forgot to offer tobacco to them in the places
they were thought to abide.
Thus began the custom of offering tobacco to
the deities in their domains.