Category Archives: Stories

Thunderbird saves the Prairie People

In the heart of the Saskatchewan prairies, where the wind whispered through the tall grass and the vast sky stretched endlessly, the Plains Cree people faced a time of despair. Their once-thriving lands were now threatened by settlers who sought to claim the territory as their own, displacing the indigenous people who had lived harmoniously with the land for generations.

The settlers, driven by greed and a relentless hunger for expansion, encroached upon the Cree territory, bringing with them a wave of violence and destruction. Families were torn apart, and the once-peaceful prairies were stained with the blood of innocent women and children. The Cree elders, desperate for a solution, turned to the ancient legends of their people for guidance.

Deep in the heart of the prairies, hidden among the sacred hills, the elders gathered in a solemn ceremony. They lit a sacred fire and sang ancient songs, calling upon the spirits of their ancestors for strength and guidance. As the night fell and the stars painted the sky, the elders raised their hands to the heavens and summoned the great Thunderbird.

Legend spoke of the Thunderbird, a majestic and powerful creature that soared through the skies, its wings carrying the storms and thunder. The elders believed that the Thunderbird held the key to restoring balance and justice to their lands. With unwavering faith, they chanted the sacred words passed down through generations.

In the midst of their prayers, a mighty wind began to howl, and the air crackled with electricity. The Thunderbird, with wings that spanned the horizon, descended from the heavens. Its feathers shimmered like lightning, and its eyes glowed with ancient wisdom. The Thunderbird spoke in a voice that echoed like distant thunder, promising to aid the Cree in their time of need.

United with the Thunderbird, the Cree people prepared for battle. The great bird soared across the prairies, unleashing storms that scattered the settlers and disrupted their plans. The Thunderbird’s wings shielded the Cree warriors as they fought to protect their families and reclaim their ancestral lands.

As the battle raged on, the settlers faced the unyielding forces of nature, and the Thunderbird’s power became a symbol of hope for the Plains Cree. The settlers, overwhelmed by the strength of the Thunderbird and the determination of the Cree warriors, eventually retreated.

With the threat repelled, the Thunderbird ascended back into the skies, leaving the prairies in peace. The Cree people, though scarred by the conflict, found solace in the victory that the Thunderbird had brought them. The sacred bond between the Plains Cree and their ancestral spirits had proven unbreakable, and the land that had once been stained with sorrow now stood as a testament to the resilience of a people united in their quest for justice and freedom.

Story generated by OpenAI ChatGPT using prompts.

Images generated by Nightcafe using prompts.

wihtikō ikwa mistāpīw – wihtikō vs. Bigfoot

In the depths of the untamed wilderness of North America, a battle of mythical proportions unfolded between two legendary beings: Bigfoot and Wihtikō. The moon cast an ethereal glow upon the towering trees, setting the stage for an epic clash that would resonate through the ages.

Wihtikō, a creature born from ancient Native American legends, embodied darkness and malevolence. With ghostly white skin, sunken eyes that glowed with an otherworldly light, and an emaciated frame, Wihtikō roamed the land in search of lost souls to devour. Its haunting wails echoed through the night, striking fear into the hearts of those who dared to listen.

On the other side stood Bigfoot, a mysterious and powerful guardian of the wilderness. Covered in thick, matted fur, it possessed an air of strength and wisdom that commanded respect. Bigfoot’s deep-set eyes held the knowledge of ages, and its enormous stature evoked a primal sense of awe in all who encountered it. Though reclusive, the mere mention of its existence ignited the imagination of many.

Destiny drew these legendary beings together in a remote, ancient forest. As they faced each other, an electrifying tension filled the air. Wihtikō hissed, its bony fingers curling into claws, while Bigfoot stood resolute, radiating a quiet determination.

With a sudden burst of speed, Wihtikō lunged at Bigfoot, unleashing a flurry of savage strikes. Bigfoot’s agility and nimbleness allowed it to evade the majority of Wihtikō’s attacks, relying on its instinct and experience to protect itself. The clash of their forces shook the very ground beneath them, as if the forest itself trembled in anticipation.

Wihtikō’s attacks were fueled by a ravenous hunger for power and dominance. Its icy breath chilled the air, freezing the leaves that fell in its wake. Bigfoot, however, possessed an unyielding strength, rooted in the ancient wisdom of the natural world. It countered each of Wihtikō’s assaults with measured precision, using its sheer might to push back the relentless adversary.

As the battle raged on, the forest bore witness to a titanic struggle between light and darkness. Wihtikō’s ferocity was unmatched, but Bigfoot’s resilience and connection to the wilderness provided a profound advantage. With each clash, Wihtikō’s attacks weakened, while Bigfoot’s unwavering spirit and strategic maneuvers grew stronger.

Finally, in a decisive moment, Bigfoot seized an opportunity. It landed a crushing blow, sending Wihtikō crashing to the forest floor. Wihtikō, drained and wounded, struggled to rise, but its strength had been depleted. It became clear that the light had triumphed over the darkness.

With a thunderous roar that reverberated through the trees, Bigfoot declared its victory. Wihtikō, defeated and humbled, retreated into the shadows, vanishing from sight, perhaps forever.

As tranquility settled over the forest once more, Bigfoot stood as a symbol of harmony and protection. It had proven that wisdom and unity could prevail over malevolence and chaos. Tales of the epic battle between Bigfoot and Wihtikō would be recounted through generations, reminding all who listened of the enduring power of nature’s defenders.

In the legends and folklore of North America, Bigfoot emerged as the triumphant hero, the guardian of the wild places, and the embodiment of the untamed spirit of the land.

This is why we do not see the Wihtikō anymore, for now anyway.

Video Story – Joe and the Stranger

I have developed a YouTube video of one of my original First Nation Stories,  Joe and the Stranger. It took many, many hours and it is a project that I have wanted to do since late spring of 2022.

It is the first of its kind on my YouTube Channel, there is bound to be an error or two but hopefully, they are at a minimum.

I am hoping to learn much more about video and YouTube channels. I want to try new ideas when my creativity starts to bubble (is that a good word?). I have used many images and other videos to help develop this video and relearned a few things from my Flash development days (Adobe Flash has been renamed Animate, I have it at work).

“niwī atāwākān nitahcahk simāk kita takosiniyān itī kāwīkiyān.” – I will sell my soul to get home now.

“tānisi cō, tāpwī kayās.” – How are you Joe, it has been a long time. Says, the stranger.

“awinōma kītha?” – Who are you?

“cō, īmowī nihtāwikīn kāki wāpamitān, ikospi kākī nitowithihtamān kitahcahk.” – Joe, I saw you before you were born, since then, I wanted your soul.

“namwāc kiwī mīthitin kīkway.” – I will not give you anything.

“kiwi asotamātin kīkway cō, māka kita mīthin kitahcahk” – I will offer you something Joe, but you must give me your soul.

“tānihkōma cō?” – What is the matter Joe?

“namwāc!” – No!

“kihtwām kawāpamatin cō.” – I will see you again Joe. Poof, he disappears.


Moon Video by motionstock from Pixabay

Man Image by LIMAT MD ARIF from Pixabay

Side face Image by Susan Cipriano from Pixabay

Full man Image by mohamed Hassan from Pixabay

Smile Image by Raman Spirydonau from Pixabay

drunkard-40577.png Image by Clker-Free-Vector-Images from Pixabay

male female drunk Image by Лечение Наркомании from Pixabay

anger-1300528.png Image by OpenClipart-Vectors from Pixabay

silhouette-2586534_1920.jpg Image by StockSnap from Pixabay

explosion-2676603_1280.png Image by BedexpStock from Pixabay

john-stanley-81529_1920.jpg Image by David Mark from Pixabay

chevrolet-637778_1920.jpg Image by Robert Balog from Pixabay

Star Image by Lumpi from Pixabay

A Story I am Writing

Good morning from La Ronge, to all my followers. I have been working on a story for about three years. I am only at 6000 words. The pandemic had wiped out much of my creativity, however, I am finally feeling it again.

My story was at 5000 words this past March, but I ended up with the dreaded writer’s block. Last night I managed to add another 1000 words. I am not sure at this point what number I will am aiming for. At the beginning, my goal was 5000, but that is not enough to tell the story that has been in my head for the last 25 years or so.

I had hand-written the story probably in my early twenties. I was proud of it and wished at the time, that I could get illustrations for it. Unfortunately, I lost the original hand-written story. I had planned to type the original story with a typewriter or computer, if I could get my hands on one.

I hoped to publish it someday, but I did not have any connections to any writers. I had access to Readers Digest magazines and they had writing contests all the time. I think they may accepted hand-written submissions I cannot be sure. The story was about 22 pages of my messy writing. I am currently at 20 pages with size 12 font in Times New Roman, double-spaced.

I had always wanted to publish a book or even an anthology of short-stories. I imagined the book or books would be extremely successful. I dreamed that it would be the only job I would ever need to support myself. Things happen in life that do not always go the way you want. I did not want to let go of the dream.

The early 2000s were a little rough, but I did manage to write several stories. I had access to a computer because of an Information Technology program I applied for. I learned to build basic websites with HTML and I loved it. I even built a faux website that I called “Charlie’s Written Works.”

The website presented my stories, poems and songs that I had written. In 2009, First Nation Stories was launched to a very tepid response., but I was proud.

I am still pursuing my dream to have a book published. I have so many stories in my head that need to be “let out,” so to speak. I have mentioned this on a Facebook status of a great writer and all he said was “write.” Straight to point, but very powerful. This happened two-weeks ago and I am finally following his advice. I will “write,” what is in my head.

I have spent too much time worrying about the format and the organization of the story’s chapters. I wish I could have just written the story on and on. Of course, it’s not too late to do so. I just have to be more diligent.

I will be writing today, wish me luck


Hand Writing Image by Free-Photos from Pixabay

Laptop and Writing Image by StartupStockPhotos from Pixabay

Call for Stories on Trapline Cabins

Artwork by Molly Ratt – Follow the link to see her Facebook page

This is a call for stories on trapline cabins. I want you to share stories of your time in a trapline cabin. All stories are welcome. It would be great to hear about your time in a trapline cabin. You can write about anything you want from how and when it was built, or maybe just the times your family traveled to the cabin during certain seasons. While I would like to publish all stories, there are a few guidelines I would like to inform you about.

  • I cannot offer remuneration or a prize, but I will publish shared stories as deemed appropriate.
  • I will give full credit and a link to your Facebook profile.
  • It needs to be between 150 to 1000 words. I can be flexible on this, in the case of several short stories, I will combine stories into one page on the website.
  • Appropriate language is encouraged
  • Happy stories are encouraged but sad stories will not be refused
  • Deadline is March 27, 2020, but I will add stories before that date over the weekends.
  • No real need to be formal, but I will make minor edits if needed. This is a story telling website, not an English class.
  • Please inbox me your stories and I will reply during evenings and weekends. I am a full-time teacher and I do not go on Facebook during the day. You can also email me the original document to Please write subject as “trapline cabin”

Just a note that this is not a contest, it is more of a chance to share your story with us.

A big thank you to Tom Ballantyne for giving me the idea. I hope you decide to share your story with us at some point.

Treaty 6 Territory, Our Territory

Growing in La Ronge, Pesiw Lake and Hall Lake, I never heard of the term, Treaty 6 Territory. I would hear of Treaty Days and I enjoyed the events that would happen on that day. The whole community would get together and have events such as sack races, plank races and various other fun events. I do not remember hearing about the numbered treaties until I was in grade 10, at Sally Ross School, where I now teach grades 5 and 6.

The Numbered Treaties

I have taught my students about treaty 6, where and when it was signed, and about the year our band, the Lac La Ronge Indian Band (LLRIB), signed an adhesion in 1889. I have showed them the poster of the timeline of chiefs, which is available on the LLRIB website – History of the LLRIB Chiefs. I showed them the videos on the page to make them more aware of our first chief, Chief James Roberts and where he is buried. A few students were actually at the headstone ceremony this past summer. The ceremony is also on video, on the linked page.

Opens new page to LLRIB website

The students were engaged and very interested in the information. Questions came up such as, what I remember about the previous chiefs and which ones I met. I told them I had met Harry Cook when he was chief and that former chief, Miles Venne came to my high school graduation in 1995 at Senator Myles Venne School.  For some reason, his first name was misspelled, but I have not asked about it either.

I would have loved to hear about our history when I was in elementary school because I was always curious about it. Stanley Mission also has a great history, and their church, Holy Trinity Anglican Church, is known world wide –

Books were more about the southern Saskatchewan Indians regarding the buffalo and the hardships of land being stolen and ripped away from them. After hearing so much about the atrocities of the treaty signings and the lies perpetuated by the government, I started to wonder about our history, where do we fit, in the timeline of Indigenous events.

I completed the work for the LLRIB during my time as web developer. Recently, I decided to go to an outside source for more information that I may not have heard about. I asked a friend of mine, Samuel A. Hardlotte, about what he knows of the treaty signing, below was his response:

Our 1889 Adhesion to Treaty 6 was signed at the North end of Montreal Lake it was Not signed at molanosa. The settlement of molanosa did not exist in 1889 and it later began when some white men, began harvesting trees in that area and set up a sawmill, inland, from Montreal Lake.
Our Acting Chief Sam Roberts, Hope and I visited Little Hills on Sept. 28th/19 to commemorate the historic event of the very 1st Annuity Payments. Tubby Bell was the person that took us out there.
It was an emotional day for all of us.
It was also an honour to be at Little Hills on that day.

Mr. Hardlotte is very passionate about the history of our Treaty 6 Territory. I joined him and his wife, Hope, with the Treaty Day display at the JRMCC, where they handed out T-shirts marking the anniversary of the treaty adhesion.

It was a showcase of historical documents, pictures and articles about LLRIB. It was very informative, and I did my part by displaying the video or our history on a projection screen.

I had an interesting but friendly debate with Hope during the event. She said that the separation of Stanley Mission in 1910, meant that they should not be included in the timeline of chiefs because in 1900, Peter Ballantyne separated from the Paylist to form their own band under his name, and they are not on the timeline. I argued (in a nice way, lol) that Peter Ballantyne Band is not in the timeline because they did not rejoin us at some point like Stanley Mission did. Anyway, it was a good discussion. Discussions and debates should be encouraged without the bitterness of arguments and escalated disagreements.

I am sure there is more to our history that has not been written, I hope one of these days that there is a project set up, to gather this information and present it for free, to all our schools, the LLRIB membership and the general public.


Lac La Ronge Indian Band –

Peter Ballantyne Cree Nation –

Montreal Lake Cree Nation –



Blurb about my Storytelling and nimosōm – My Grandfather

nimosōm – my grandfather used to tell me so many stories about people that lived here or near here. He was a great storyteller and may have taken many liberties with the details. I loved to hear those stories and made my imagination very active with thought and wonder. I give credit to those stories to the storytelling I do with this website, passing on a tradition in a modern way. I also used to tell stories to my children off the top of my head, just to entertain them. I have forgotten more stories than I have on this website.

I remember one story about Hall Lake, where he told me that when he arrived on the lake from a portage, he heard a moose splashing around the shore of the lake. He went further and heard another moose going into the lake in another part of the lake. He heard one more near the mouth of one of the rivers, we have two but he didn’t say which one. I could not imagine that happening in this day and age, nor the time he was telling me the story because there were already many houses and people on the reserve. By the way, Hall Lake in Cree, is mōso-sākahikanisīsihk, according to my late grandfather.

Hall Lake – mōso-sākahikanisīsihk

nimosōm  – my grandfather





Thank you for reading my stories

Since November of 2018, views and visitors have gone way up for my website. It all started with stories about nimosōm – my grandfather.

Please visit us on Facebook –

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Halloween at the Trapline – cīpay tipiskāw wanihikīskanahk

As a boy, kāmikiskak – freeze-up time, was hit and miss at the trapline because during October we had to stay on land. Sometimes we were grounded for weeks on end. One year, we were actually at the trapline for Halloween. nimosōm ikwa nōhkom – my grandfather and grandmother, kept bringing up cīpay tipiskāw – Halloween (literal translation is ghost night).

There would be the talk of ghosts coming around and how they would move things or make noises in the dark corners of the cabins. It was all very scary for a boy and my imagination ran wild with fear when I thought too much of it. My father had made us a bunk bed and I got the top of this makeshift bunkbed.

That night, I kept thinking of all the little things that I heard that day about ghosts and demons and started imagining these things. Suffices it to say, I had a very scary night that night and wanted so bad to sleep so it would be over and done with.

kāmikiskak – freeze-up time

cīpay tipiskāw wanihikīskanahk – Halloween at the Trapline

cīpay tipiskāw – Halloween (literal translation is ghost night)