Long ago, there were four brothers who were known as the greatest, most persistent hunters around; once they began trailing, they never gave up a quarry. One cold day, when frost coated the ground, a messenger came to the village with urgency: a giant bear had taken ownership of the nearby woods; it was so large and formidable that no one dared enter, and men stood guard along the perimeter to warn those nearby if it left. Not many had spotted the beast and lived to tell of it, but it left enormous footprints, revealing that it wandered nearer to homes and with more boldness each day.

Soon after, when the villagers knew the animal would attack, the brothers embarked into the forest to hunt it, taking along skillfully made weapons and their little dog. When they entered the copse, they saw no other signs of animal activity, aside from large scars on pines where the Great Bear marked its territory. The tallest, oldest brother stretched to touch the gashes, but could not reach the highest marks. “It is what I feared,” he said softly, “This is Nyah-Gwaheh, the monster bear.”

Everyone knew that the legendary Nyah-Gwaheh had magical powers; it could make even the most seasoned hunters overlook its trail, lose direction, and become lost－making them the hunted, instead; but it was also known that if a hunter could overcome the bear’s misdirection, it would frighten the creature, allowing it to be found easier.

Noon arrived and the brothers came upon a village; all of the longhouses’ doors were closed and guarded by starved, terrified men holding spears or clubs.

One of the brothers stepped tentatively forward from the forest, “We’ve come to help you get rid of this monster.” One of the guards shook his head quickly and muttered, “We found its tracks nearby, but when we tried to follow them, they disappeared.”

Another brother knelt down, smiling and petting their dog, “That’s because you don’t have a dog like ours!” He pointed to two black circles above the dog’s eyes, “Four-Eyes can see any track and follow it.”

“We never stop once we’re on a trail,” interjected a third brother. The guards looked at them with doubt.

The fourth, chubbiest, laziest brother whispered worriedly, “We should eat before we set off; we might be gone for a long while.” The brothers ignored him and followed Four-Eyes, whose upraised head was looking, sniffing intently.

A few hours later, deep into the forest, the laziest brother complained again, “Shouldn’t we rest? We’ve been walking a long time.” No one made a sound, however, for Nyah-Gwaheh’s presence could be felt in the air. They knew that if they could not stick to its trail, the bear would circle behind them. With a sigh, the lazy brother took out his pemmican pouch to discover that the food he had carefully packed－strips of meat and berries cured with maple sugar－had been turned to wriggling maggots by the Nyah-Gwaheh’s magic. “Look what the bear did to my food,” he shouted in fury. Just as the lazy brother was about to continue, a shadow cast in front of them and they saw a pair of bright red eyes and an open mouth full of huge teeth.

The small dog leaped after the bear, snarling. “Four-Eyes is on its trail! Let’s go,” called the second brother.

“Great Bear,” the fourth brother yelled, “We’ll get you now!”

Shouting loudly, the brothers rushed easily after the bear through thickets and swamps; the furless bear was so large that it cleared a path for all four brothers to chase after it side by side. Up and on, they continued into the mountainous woods, following the fresh path that led higher and higher. Agile, they never fell behind and gained on the monster inch by inch. As they neared a hilltop, they caught a glimpse of the bear before it disappeared into a valley and behind a line of trees.

“Brothers,” the lazy one wheezed, pretending to grab an injured foot, “I sprained my ankle! You’ll have to carry me!” Two of them carried him while the third held his spear; though they were running slower than before, they didn’t fall behind.

As night crept upon them, the brothers found themselves on a mountaintop; up ahead, they could see the bear－Four-Eyes was even close enough to nip the monster’s tail; it was growing tired, but so were they. With an exclamation, the laziest brother struggled out of his siblings’ arms, “Put me down! I’m better now!”

The brother sprinted ahead with his spear in hand, but Nyah-Gwaheh heard him, and turned to attack. However, when the beast turned, it found the weapon thrust deep into its chest, piercing its heart. Then, Nyah-Gwaheh fell dead. By the time the other brothers made it to the site, the laziest brother had already built a fire, cut up the bear, and was roasting its meat. “Let’s eat,” he beamed, “All that running made me hungry!”

They ate until even the laziest brother was satisfied. It was then that they looked down and saw that they were not on a mountain at all. Nyah-Gwaheh had flown into the sky to escape the hunters, but their determination to catch it had carried them up into the sky. At their feet, the bones of Nyah-Gwaheh quivered, grew flesh, and reanimated, Nyah-Gwaheh rising to its feet. Four-Eyes barked and chased after the bear, who had started to run away. The eldest brother grabbed his spear and ran, calling behind him, “Come on!” And the brothers began the chase once more.

Even now, the hunt for Nyah-Gwaheh continues; each autumn, the four brothers chase the bear across the sky. When they catch it, they cut it up, the beast’s blood falling from the heavens and painting the maple tree’s leaves bright red; the fat dripping from their fire falls onto the grass, paling its color. When the spring returns, Nyah-Gwaheh rises and the chase begins anew.

If you look carefully in the night sky, you can see Nyah-Gwaheh’s large, chunky shape (the Big Dipper) being chased by the four brothers and their dog (the Dipper’s handle); in autumn, when Nyah-Gwaheh lies on his back, the elders say, “Ah, look! The lazy hunter has killed the bear.” But as time passes, Nyah-Gwaheh slowly rises, running once more.

-the Colors of Autumn: the Hunting of the Great Bear - an Iroquois Legend Orrin Lewis & Laura Redish