Nadežda Pokačeva sings a song about berry-picking during the Bear Ceremony

“The song of my mother’s little sister: ‘Who made us this birchbark container today? There are so many berries! Pick them! That’s a bear’s paw! I’ve never seen such a creature. A being that loves songs and stories. I know parts of a song, or maybe a tale. Oh no, I’m frightened! Let’s not pick berries any further – let’s leave them here! But maybe just one song will do. Feel this furry thing! Oh, it’s a wonder! You are my gold! I offer you gold and money. You sing songs, tell stories. I don’t fear your golden image. Let me pick my berries in peace! Behind one tree, or another, just stay a little farther away!’

Another song: ‘Great beast. When I arrived here, my shoes were worn out, my gloves threadbare. Today I went outside – and the berries I had longed to pick were finally ripe. Where is my birchbark basket? I take my birchbark basket and finally reach the edge of the bog. And through a thicket of young pines, at the edge of my white-red bog, near the river, I reach the lowland bog. So many berries everywhere! One day I looked out, and what did I see? Black as a kettle – there, my son. That wicked boy – he’s picking berries too. Wonderful creation of the sacred golden ancestor! Shall I leave you the berries I picked for you? No, I’ll pick them myself. It seems my little bear suddenly noticed me. Marvelous golden creature! You too, berry-picker, are picking berries. Great Torum, my father, has allowed me, poor little thing, to pick blueberries and wild rose hips. Golden beast! In the shade of one tree, of two trees, you too are picking berries here.’

We were startled at the same moment. The little bear was in a hurry! Look – these berries she picked, maybe he’ll get some too. But the wife of the man kept picking berries as if nothing had happened.

‘My son-bear, you can see it – when you look at our bear: When the time comes, when the little dolls are as big as cedar cones, as big as fir cones – we’ll gather berries together, at the same spot. We’ll pick berries from different sides. In the shade of the same tree, we will pick side by side. When we gather cedar cones, I’ll collect them from the treetop. The child born of a human will knock the cones from the top of the tree. From now on, I will watch – I will observe your magic. I stand now. The magical mother watches. I ask her to begin her shamanizing…’ I’ve grown tired.”

Recoeded by Stephan Dudeck, Kartokhi, 2016. Картохи.