Cree Prose

Mīna nîpēw ka-wīhcēw pîsimwa pîsimwa ka-kihtwēw ka-mīci-mīciwak ka-pimwēwacīwak ka-mīci-mīciwak. “Kēkā! Kēkā! Nīhiyaw pīsimwa pīsimwa nīhiyaw pīkiskwēs! Nīhiyaw pīsimwa pīsimwa nīhiyaw pīkiskwēs!” Nīpāw kīskēw Eagle Wings, pīsimwa kīskēw mīna pīsimwa. “Mīna, Little Bear, nistam, ka-wīhcēw! Hahahaha!!!!” Nīpāw Eagle Wings—–Little Bear nīpāw—–“Kīwēhkēw manē, ka-wīhcēw, kīwēhkēw mīna kīwēhkēw! Yikes!!”

Little Bear climbed up a cedar to check on just where the bird they shot had flown to. “There! There! I see her in a maple by the brook!” He yells down to Eagle Wings his younger brother. “OK, Little Bear, go get it and don’t be a sap! Hahahaha!!!!” Says Eagle Wings—–Little Bear to himself—–“That white man with the jokes at the village sure has a sense of humor!! Yikes!!”

Nicko