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diff --git a/78673-0.txt b/78673-0.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6217127 --- /dev/null +++ b/78673-0.txt @@ -0,0 +1,10551 @@ +*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 78673 *** + + + + + =Kulóskap the Master= + + _And Other Algonkin Poems_ + + [Illustration: + And bade the little creature come to him; + Back smiled the baby, but it did not budge. + (_See page 108._)] + + + + + Kulóskap the Master + + _And Other Algonkin Poems_ + + + _Translated Metrically by_ + + CHARLES GODFREY LELAND, Hon. F.R.S.L.; M.A. + + (Harvard) + + Author of “The Algonquin Legends of New England” + + AND + + JOHN DYNELEY PRINCE, Ph.D. (Johns Hopkins) + + Professor in Columbia University and author of various + articles on Algonkin dialects + + + [Illustration: colophon] + + + _FUNK & WAGNALLS COMPANY_ + + _New York and London_ + + _1902_ + + + + + COPYRIGHT, 1902 + By FUNK & WAGNALLS COMPANY + NEW YORK + + Registered at Stationers’ Hall, London, England + + Printed in the United States of America + + Published November, 1902 + + + _ILLUSTRATIONS IN THE VOLUME_ + + _Half-tone Text Illustrations by F. BERKELEY SMITH_ + + _Ten Tracings after Indian Designs by + CHARLES GODFREY LELAND_ + + _Frontispiece by EDWIN WILLARD DEMING_ + + + + + =Contents= + + + PAGE + =Preface=--By CHARLES GODFREY LELAND 11 + =Introduction=--By JOHN DYNELEY PRINCE 21 + + _PART FIRST--THE EPIC OF KULÓSKAP_ + + =Canto First=--_Creation Legends_ + I. The Birth of Kulóskap 43 + II. The Creation of Man and the Animals 50 + III. The Origin of the Rattlesnakes 56 + IV. How Kulóskap named the Animals 59 + + =Canto Second=--_The Master’s Kindness to Man_ + I. What Kulóskap did for the Indians 62 + II. How Kulóskap granted Gifts and Favors to many + Indians 64 + III. Kulóskap and the Fool 90 + IV. The Three Brothers who became Trees 94 + V. Kulóskap and the Wise Wishers 98 + VI. How Kulóskap was conquered by the Babe 107 + + =Canto Third=--_The Master and the Animals_ + I. Kulóskap and the Loons 110 + II. Kulóskap and the Beaver 112 + III. The Sable and the Serpent 118 + IV. Kulóskap and the Turtle 123 + V. How Mikchik the Turtle was false to the Master 136 + VI. How Kulóskap conquered Aklibimo the Great Bull + Frog 140 + VII. How Kulóskap went Whale Fishing 152 + VIII. Kulóskap and Wuchōsen the Wind Eagle 158 + + =Canto Fourth=--_The Master and the Sorcerers_ + I. Kulóskap and Winpe 162 + II. How a Witch sought to cajole the Master 172 + III. How Kulóskap fought the Giant Sorcerers 174 + IV. How the Master showed himself a Great Smoker 182 + V. Kulóskap and the Witch 185 + VI. Kulóskap and the Witch called “The Pitcher” 194 + VII. How Kulóskap sailed through the Cavern of Darkness 203 + VIII. How the Master found the Summer 208 + IX. How Kulóskap left the World 213 + X. The Master and the Final Day 217 + + _PART SECOND--WITCHCRAFT LORE_ + + I. The Wizard’s Chant 223 + II. The Woman and the Serpent 225 + III. The Wizard Snake 229 + IV. The Measuring Worm 231 + V. The Pʾmûla or Air-Demon 236 + VI. The Little Boy kidnapped by the Bear 239 + VII. The Wizard and the Christian Priest 242 + VIII. Wizard Warfare 244 + IX. The Wizard’s Hunting 250 + X. Six Short Tales of Witchcraft 253 + XI. A Delaware Youth and his Uncle 256 + XII. The Dance of Old Age 260 + XIII. A Tale of the River-Elves 269 + + _PART THIRD--LYRICS AND MISCELLANY_ + + I. The Song of Lappilatwan 273 + II. The Story of Nipon the Summer 283 + III. The Scarlet Tanager and the Leaf 295 + IV. The Blind Boy 305 + V. A Passamaquoddy Love Song 308 + VI. The Song of the Stars 312 + VII. How the Indians lost their Power 314 + VIII. The Partridge and the Spring 320 + IX. Lox, the Indian Devil 325 + + =L’Envoi= 337 + + =Appendix=: _The Passamaquoddy Wampum Records_ 340 + + =Glossary= 361 + + + + + =Full Page Illustrations= + + + PAGE + Kulóskap and the Babe _Frontispiece_ + The Creation of Man 50 + The Origin of the Rattlesnakes 58 + What Kulóskap did for the Indians 67 + Kulóskap and the Loons 110 + Kulóskap and the Beaver 116 + The Sable and the Serpent 122 + How Kulóskap went Whale Fishing 154 + Kulóskap and Winpe 170 + How Kulóskap fought the Giant Sorcerers at Saco 178 + How Kulóskap sailed through the Cavern of Darkness 205 + The Little Boy Kidnapped by the Bear 241 + Wizard Warfare 246 + The Dance of Old Age 266 + Lox, the Indian Devil 333 + + + + + =Preface= + + BY + + CHARLES GODFREY LELAND + + + + +PREFACE + + +Very few persons are aware that there has perished, or is rapidly +perishing, among the Red Indians of North America, far more poetry +than was ever written by all the white inhabitants and that this +native verse is often of a very high order. For the Indian sagas, or +legends, or traditions were, in fact, all songs; as is the case to +this day with similar lore in Italy. Indeed, in the latter country, +I have been asked if I would have a fairy tale chanted or repeated +as prose! Thus, all the narratives in my “Algonquin Legends of New +England,” especially those referring to Kulóskap (Klûskâbe), or to +the gods, might have been correctly made into a poetic cycle, as the +Finnish Kalevala was made by Lönnrot. + +After I had published my Legends, however, I was made aware by Louis +Mitchell, a Passamaquoddy Indian, who had been in the Legislature +of Maine, and had collected and written out for me, with strictest +literalness, a great number of manuscripts, that there were in +existence certain narratives and poems quite different in kind +from anything which I possessed. Among the former was a History +of the Passamaquoddy Tribe, illustrated with numerous designs of +the birchbark school of art, which I transferred to my friend the +late Dr. D. G. Brinton as its most appropriate possessor. Three of +the poems Mitchell wrote out for me in exact, though often quite +ungrammatical language, which was so close to the original that +the metres betrayed themselves throughout. I regret that, though +I had certainly acquired some knowledge of “Indian,” it was, as a +Passamaquoddy friend one day amiably observed, “only baby Injun +now grow bigger some day like Miʿkumwess s’posin’ you want to,” in +reference to a small goblin who is believed to have the power of +increasing his stature at will. However, I with great care put the +Mitchell Anglo-Algonkin into English metre, having been impressed, +while at the work, with the exquisitely naïve and fresh character of +the original, which, while it often reminded me of Norse poetry, in +many passages had strictly a life and beauty of its own. + +Among my varied and most valued small possessions is what was once, +beyond doubt, the sketch book of Salvator Rosa himself, consisting of +a number of blank leaves on one of which still remains an exquisite +pen sketch of a head by Bronzino. There were in it also, at one time, +as appears from a memorandum and on a flyleaf, several sketches +of Salvator, but these have been cut out and sold. The binding or +cover of the book was made from a large folio-thick parchment leaf +from a fourteenth century religious manuscript, whereon are seven +illuminated vermilion capitals still remaining. And, as my manuscript +exactly fitted the cover, I placed it therein, where it rested for +many years, undisturbed even by a thought save when it occurred to me +how the great and savage master, who was himself a poet, would have +rejoiced among Indians and liked their lyrics! + + “Io sono pittore + Gar flink mit der Hand + Und bin Salvatore + La Rosa genannt.” + +It so befell that I, _per fortuna_, became correspondent with +Professor J. Dyneley Prince, who had come some time after but got +far before me in a knowledge of Algonkin, as was shown in various +papers containing the original text and translations of Algonkin +legends in different dialects. Whereupon, the thought occurred to +me that this fully qualified scholar might revise, correct, and +compare my metrical version with the original text, which task would +be much facilitated by the fact that he also was well acquainted +with Louis Mitchell, and I may here mention that, while I had at one +time obtained an accurate copy of the celebrated Algonkin “Wampum +Record” which was recited annually in bygone days at the Council of +the Tribes, and had it read to me, and written out in Indian English. +Prof. Dyneley Prince has himself translated it and reproduces a +portion of it in the present work. So it came to pass that this book +was written. And I may here mention that my colleague, while his +specialty is the Semitic tongues, also has (like my late friend E. H. +Palmer, who professed Arabic at Cambridge) the gift of the Romany and +even Shelta, which are as the Latin and Greek of the roads! + +During more than one-third of a life which began in 1824, I have +passed almost annually over the continent of Europe. I have lived for +the past fifteen years in Florence, in touch with the Apennines, or +opposite Bellosguarda, sung by many a poet, and the Alps and castled +crags of the Rhine come to me often in my dreams; yet I never found +in it all that strange and sweet charm like a song without words +which haunts the hills and valleys of rural New England. That it has +existed and been deeply felt and clearly recognized, is evident in +the works of Hawthorne, with whom we may include Washington Irving, +Judd[1] and indeed many more, every one of whom bears witness of +having been awakened by a spell which he never felt in other lands. +And this spirit of its memory is the most beautiful which I have at +command: + + “I feel its magic from afar + Like another life in me; + I hear--though not with living ear + And see the forms which with my eye + I ne’er again shall see!” + +Yet with all this, there was still one thing wanting; that which +Nature itself would not give fully, even to a Wordsworth: the subtle +final charm of human tradition, poetry, or romance. True, it may be +the slightest--a mere touch of gold-leaf or an illuminated letter, +or a sun-gleam on the mountain top--but the most inspired poet can +never feel that he is really “heart-intimate” with scenery, if it +has for him no ties of tradition or folk-lore. When I was young, I +felt this lack, and bore in patience the very common reproach of +Europeans that we had a land without ancient legends or song. But +now that I am older grown, I have learned that this want is all in +our own ignorance and neglect of what we had only to put forth our +hand to reach. We bewailed our wretched poverty when we had in our +lap a casket full of treasure which we would not take the pains to +open. Few indeed and far between are those who ever suspected till of +late years that every hill and dale in New England had its romantic +legend, its beautiful poem, or its marvellous myth--the latter +equal in conception and form to those of the Edda--or that a vast +collection of these traditions still survives in perfect preservation +among the few remaining Indians of New England and the Northeast +Coast, or the _Wabano_. This assertion is, I trust, verified by +what is given in the Micmac tales by the late Rev. S. Rand, the +collection made by Miss Abbey Alger of Boston, and my own “Algonquin +Legends of New England,”[2] which I, _sit venia_, may mention was +the first to appear of the series. And I venture to say from the +deepest conviction that it will be no small occasion of astonishment +and chagrin, a hundred years hence, when the last Algonkin Indian of +the _Wabano_ shall have passed away, that so few among our literary +or cultured folk cared enough to collect this connected aboriginal +literature. Unto which I may truly add that, when such collection was +made, there were far more critics to find fault with the way in which +it was done, than persons to do it. + +A few of the poems contained in this volume have already appeared +in prose form in the “Algonquin Legends of New England.” As these +were in fact poetry, or chanted in rude measure, I had at first the +intention to give them in English in their original form and to group +all those referring to the divinity in an epic, as Lönnrot made the +Finnish Kalevala, or Homer his own great works. This I have to a +degree accomplished in the present volume. + +To render my meaning clear as to the legends having been poems, the +reader may be aware that all rude races make no distinction between +prose narrative and poetry. When an Indian, an Italian mountaineer, +an Arab, and sometimes a Gypsy (I have had experience of all in this +respect) would spin off some long romantic yarn, he either gives you +a choice, or, more frequently, begins to intone or chant the tale in +a manner which is something between plain-song and the singing of +“Captain Kidd” in a northeaster by one who has no vocal gift. Then +the voice falls into one or the other of two measures which I believe +I have accurately followed in the present work. This primitive rhythm +is quite irregular, following only a general cadence rather than +observing any fixed number of beats in each line. I have endeavored +to represent this peculiarity in the English version by not adhering +too strictly to an unvarying measure. These Amerindian[3] metres are +not all like that of Hiawatha, which is, however, quite in accord +with the form of the Slavonic and Spanish romances. + +Although not entirely ignorant of Passamaquoddy, Penobscot and +Micmac, I am not proficient therein and have chiefly based my work +on very careful translations executed by others. Here, however, I +avail myself of the assistance and authority of my _collaborateur_, +J. Dyneley Prince, who as these pages witness, has seriously studied +the eastern Algonkin dialects, especially the idiom of the Canadian +Abenakis. + +A Penobscot woman once told me that it was _Klûskâbe_--she did not +call him _Kulóskap_, as the Passamaquoddies do--who divided the great +mountain of which Boston originally consisted into _three hills_. I +have since learned from an authentic legend gathered by Miss Roma +Lister that Virgil did the same at Rome. Here the seven hills were +confused with three. Every reader of Scott will recall the great +wizard Michael Scott, who was believed to have worked the same +miracle: + + “And, Warrior, I could say to thee + The word that cleft Eildon hills in three.” + +These coincidences are very remarkable. I regret that I have not the +Penobscot song in which the division of the Boston hill is described, +but I believe that it exists. + +The traditions and, to some extent, the languages and histories +of the aboriginal tribes are quite as worthy of being taught at +our universities to all who propose to become American scholars as +many other branches which are endowed at great expense, and are a +great source of pride. But the true value of work like this is, +that the country will be if those who love it so desire, once more +repeopled with the fairies of yore. Those who will may walk in the +spirit-haunted paths, trodden in the early time by strange beings; +the rocks will have their goblins again and the “Diana’s Bath,” as it +is now styled, will be known by its ancient Indian name of “The Home +of the Water Elves.”[4] It was Bryant, I think, who declared that +the forest trees of New England were all the summer time repeating +in Indian words “their old poetic legends to the wind,” and it is a +tradition that there are ancient Indians who understand the language +of Mūūin the Bear--wherein may lurk more truth than most would deem, +according to the latest faith!--but these were unto all lost tongues, +and the dreams were thinnest air. Now that it is indeed possible from +these poems and such tales as have begun to reappear to see the forms +of olden time once more. I venture to express the hope that all who +love nature in New England will turn to the study of its folk-lore +and thereby secure the final flash of gold on the mountain tops, the +last touch in the picture of which I have spoken. When I was a boy +my happiest hours were spent in the rural scenery of Massachusetts. +Could I have had such books then, I could have enjoyed it all far +more. Therefore, I wish with all my heart, and truly from no selfish +point of view, that every lover of rock and river and greenwood tree +would master these old Indian tales or poems, and see in all Nature +new charms. + + CHARLES GODFREY LELAND. + + +FOOTNOTES: + +[1] Author of “Margaret” (illustrated beautifully by Felix Darley). + +[2] “The Algonquin Legends of New England,” by Charles G. Leland. +Boston (Houghton, Mifflin & Co.), 1885. + +[3] Amerindian is a term invented and used by the Americanists of +the Smithsonian Institution, to denote aboriginal American races and +languages. + +[4] At the Intervale in the White Mountains, N. H., the Indian +name for the spot known as “Diana’s Bath,” is _Wʾwagʾmeswuk wigît_ +(Passamaquoddy), “the fairies’ home.” + + + + + =Introduction= + + BY + JOHN DYNELEY PRINCE + + + + +INTRODUCTION + + +I became interested in Indian languages and lore at Bar Harbor, Me., +in 1887, chiefly through my able coadjutor. It was Mr. Leland’s +important work, “The Algonquin Legends of New England” (Boston, +1885), which inspired me to make my first investigations in this +field. Mr. Leland was indeed the pioneer in examining the oral +literature of the northeastern Algonkin tribes, a fact which few +scholars seem to recognize. To him especially, as well as to the late +Rev. Silas Rand of Nova Scotia and to Miss Abbey Alger of Boston, +do we owe some highly valuable additions to our knowledge of early +eastern Algonkin thought. My own researches have been devoted more to +linguistic and phonetic investigations among the Canadian Abenakis +than to comparative mythological study--in which, however, I feel a +very deep interest. In the present work I have had the pleasant task +of arranging and editing Mr. Leland’s material, to which I have added +some of my own collections. Mr. Leland’s poems are indicated by the +letter L and my contributions by the letter P. + +I gladly take this opportunity to express my gratitude to my friend, +Mr. A. S. Gatschet of the Smithsonian Institution at Washington, +for a great deal of valuable advice and instruction given to me +at different times during my American researches. His extensive +knowledge of Algonkin philology and folk-lore has always been most +kindly placed at my disposal. + +The existing representatives of the Algonkin or Algic race may be +separated linguistically into three great divisions: the Blackfeet +of the extreme west, whose idiom differs most greatly from all +the other dialects;[5] the Cree-Ojibwe of the middle west, which +embraces a number of closely allied linguistic variations[6] and +the Wabanaki races of the eastern coast, with whom the present work +is concerned. It should be noted that the Algonkin languages, like +all American idioms, are polysynthetic, i.e., either by means of +prefixes and suffixes which were themselves separate words, or, by +combining the radicals with other radicals, they build up words and +often sentences from original radicals which, in all probability, +were primitively monosyllabic. These original stems were in reality +only indifferent themes which might be used practically in any sense, +be it nominal or verbal. An excellent example of polysynthesis is +seen in the combination _ndalagaʿkimzi Alsigontegok_, “I learned it +at St. Francis” (Abenaki), which may be analyzed as follows: _n_, +inseparable prefix of the first person, _dal_ the prepositional +element “in” or “at” (cf. the separable post-position _tali_, “in”), +√_agaʿkim_, the root “to learn, teach”--itself a reduplicated form +of original √_kim_, “learn”--and, finally, -_zi_, the reflexive +ending. _Alsigontegok_ is the locative case of _Alsigontegw_, “river +of empty habitations,” the Abenaki name for the Indian village of +St. Francis, near Pierreville. The termination -_tegw_, locative +_tegok_, always means “river,” but cannot be used separately. If the +reader will reflect that the entire linguistic structure is arranged +on this plan, the immense physical difficulty of these idioms will be +appreciated. On the other hand, the Algonkin languages, by reason of +their very power to form these long idea-words, are admirably adapted +for narration and song, however poor a medium they might be for +modern business. + +Among the following poems and tales will be found selections taken +from Passamaquoddies, Penobscots, Abenakis, Micmacs and Delawares, +all of which tribes are members of the so-called Wabanaki branch of +the Algonkin stock and are consequently nearly related in language +and folk-lore. This term _Wabanaki_ or _Oñbanaki_ (Abenaki) means +“land of the dawn or east,” and undoubtedly points to that section +of country in which these people first established tribal relations. +_Wabanaki_ (_Oñbanaki_) is also a common term for “a man from the +east.”[7] + +The Passamaquoddy Indians of Pleasant Point, Me., numbering about +five hundred in all, are identical with the Milicetes or Etchemins +of New Brunswick and Nova Scotia. The name Passamaquoddy is a +purely local term, meaning “spearers of pollock fish” (_peskátum_). +The correct form is _Pestumokádyik_. These people are by far the +most interesting remnant of the Wabanaki, as they still retain +an unusually extensive oral literature, embracing love poems, +legends, and historical tales of considerable value. It will be +noticed, moreover, that, of the material given in the present +work, that coming from the Passamaquoddy is by far the best from +a literary point of view. I need only call the reader’s attention +to the very remarkable song recording the attack of the squirrels +on _Lappilatwan_, who dwelt in the birch tree, “ever sitting with +his mouth open” (_wechkutonébit_), a song of which Mr. Leland gives +a most charming version. I know no parallel to this in any other +literature. The wonderful song of _Nipon_, the summer, and the truly +tender legend of the loves of the Leaf and the Firebird will serve +still further to illustrate the purity of Passamaquoddy thought and +diction. + +The following brief historical sketch, taken from the manuscripts +of the Passamaquoddy Louis Mitchell, will give some idea of the +conditions which prevailed among the Wabanaki previous to the coming +of the Europeans. + +“In former days the Wabanaki nation, the Indians called Megʾwek, or +Mohawks, and other members of the Iroquoian Six Nations, were wont to +wage bloody and unceasing war with one another. The Wabanaki nation +consisted of five tribes: Passamaquoddies, Penobscots, Micmacs, +Milicetes, and the tribe, now extinct, which formerly inhabited the +banks of the Kennebec River. The bitterest foes of the Wabanaki were +undoubtedly the Megʾwek or Mohawks, who on the slightest provocation +would send bands to harry them and destroy their crops. The Mohawks +invariably treated their prisoners with the most merciless severity, +showing no pity even to the women and children. A favorite torture +which they frequently practised was to build a large fire of hemlock +coals, into the flames of which they drove their captives, compelling +them to walk back and forth over the glowing embers until relieved by +death. No case is on record where a brave of the Wabanaki succumbed +to the fearful pain and begged for mercy. The warriors would always +pace the fiery path with undaunted resolution and without uttering a +sound, until nature put an end to their agony. Tortures of this sort +were practised by all the tribes, but the Mohawks exceeded the others +in cruelty.” + +“The cause of the strife was an hereditary dispute about hunting +grounds. Besides the enmity which they nourished in common against +the Six Nations, the Wabanaki had also internal disputes. Thus, the +Penobscots were at feud with the Milicetes and the Micmacs with the +Passamaquoddies.” + +“The first war between the last two tribes was brought about by +the quarrel of two boys, sons of chiefs. On this occasion the +Passamaquoddies were on a friendly visit to the Micmacs, during +which the sons of the Passamaquoddy and Micmac chiefs went shooting +together. They both shot at a white sable, killing the animal by +their joint effort, but each lad claimed it as his game. Finally, +the Passamaquoddy boy, becoming enraged, killed the son of the +Micmac chief. The latter on hearing of the murder could think only +of vengeance, and positively refused to listen to the Passamaquoddy +chief’s attempt at reconciliation. The latter even offered the +life of his own son who had been guilty of the murder, but all to +no purpose. In consequence of this unfortunate occurrence, the +celebrated ‘great war’ was then declared, which lasted many years.” + +“The Micmacs although more numerous than their enemies, were inferior +warriors, so that the victory was always won (_sic!_) by the +Passamaquoddies. So great was the hostile spirit that the two tribes +fought whenever they met, paying no heed to the time of year. On one +occasion, the Passamaquoddies went to Tlancowatik, thirty miles west +of St. John, N. B., with a small party consisting principally of +women and children, with the chief and a few braves. At this place +they met a number of Micmacs on their way to Passamaquoddy Bay. The +Micmac chief being a lover of fair play ordered his men to land on an +island to await the coming of a messenger. The other chief sent word +that on the following day ‘the boys would come out to play.’ As the +Passamaquoddy chief had very few men able to bear arms, he made the +women attire themselves like warriors so that from a distance they +might be mistaken for men, and directed them to play on the beach +shouting and laughing as if entirely fearless. The Micmac chief, +deceived by this stratagem and being afraid, summoned his braves to +council, and setting forth the disasters which had been caused by the +long war advised a treaty of peace. This proposition was made to the +Passamaquoddies who, wearied by the perpetual state of unrest, gladly +acceded to the request. A general council was accordingly called, by +which it was decided that ‘as long as the sun rises and sets, as +long as the great lakes send their waters to the sea, so long should +peace reign over the two tribes.’ + +“The usual ceremonies for making peace were then observed, as +follows: (1) a marriage was contracted between a brave of the +challenging people and a maiden of the challenged people. This was +regarded as a type of perpetual future good will. (2) A feast lasting +two months was celebrated nightly; and (3) games of ball, canoe and +foot races and other sports were carried on. After such ceremonies +were over no breach of a treaty is on record, not even a single +murder.” + +“After the great Micmac war was ended, the Passamaquoddies lived at +peace except for occasional raids of Mohawks, but the latter finally +received a blow from which they never recovered, the details of +which are as follows: It was the custom of the Mohawks to make night +attacks, and at one time, when the Passamaquoddies were at the head +of Passamaquoddy Bay, the Mohawks approached the camp, which was +called Quenasquamcook, with the purpose of utterly destroying it. +On this occasion, however, they were seen by a Passamaquoddy brave +whose people lay in ambush for them. It was the custom of chiefs to +wear medallions of white wampum shells which were visible at a long +distance, particularly in the moonlight. Picking out in this way +the person of the Mohawk chief whose name was Lox (‘Wolverine’) the +watching braves shot him first, owing to which calamity the Mohawks +were thrown into confusion and fled. The Passamaquoddies followed +them as soon as day broke, but the tracks were so scattered that +they could not find the refugees. It was ascertained afterwards that +the Mohawks had quarrelled among themselves, one party being in favor +of making peace with the enemy, while another faction was strongly +opposed to such a measure. The discussion of the question ended +in a fierce combat. This was the final blow to the Mohawk cause, +so that the nation ever afterward sought to be at peace with the +Passamaquoddies.” + +“After this battle the Passamaquoddies were never again molested, but +the Penobscot tribe was still at war with the Milicetes and Mohawks +and, in fact, was nearly destroyed three times by their ruthless +foes.”[8] + +After this period of intertribal enmity came the ratification of the +Wampum Laws preserved in the so-called “Wampum Record,” part of which +is given in the Appendix. This _Wababi Agʾnodmâgon_, as I received +it, is really an historical account transmitted orally by elderly +men whose memories had been especially trained for the purpose from +early youth. The laws themselves are not given in my version. It +was customary for these keepers of tribal history from time to time +to instruct the younger members of their clan in the annals of the +people. The Passamaquoddy accounts were kept in the memory of the +historians by means of wampum shells arranged on strings in such a +manner that certain combinations suggested certain sentences or ideas +to the narrator or “reader” who, of course, already knew his record +by heart and was merely aided by the association in his mind of the +arrangement of the wampum beads with incidents or sentences in the +tale, song, or ceremony which he was rendering. This explains such +expressions as “marriage wampum” or “burial wampum,” which are common +among the Passamaquoddies, and simply mean combinations of wampum +which suggested to the initiated interpreter the ritual of the tribal +marriage and burial ceremonies. Passamaquoddy tradition has it that +the Wampum Records (i.e., the actual laws) were read ceremonially +every year at Caughnawauga, the Iroquois headquarters. + +This custom of preserving records by means of a mnemonic system was +peculiar to all the tribes of the Algonkin race as well as to the +Iroquoian clans. Brinton refers to the record or tally sticks of the +Crees and Chippeways as the “rude beginning of a system of mnemonic +aids.” It seems to have been customary in early times to burn a +mark or rude figure on a stick, suggestive of a sentence or idea. +Brinton adds: “In later days, instead of burning the marks upon the +stick, they were painted, the colors as well as the figures having +certain conventional meanings. The sticks are described as about six +inches in length, slender, although varying in shape, and tied up in +bundles.” Among the more cultured tribes the sticks were eventually +replaced by wooden tablets, on which the symbols were engraved with +a sharp instrument, such as a flint or knife. The Passamaquoddies, +however, appear never to have advanced beyond the use of wampum +strings as mnemonic aids. + +I obtained the Wampum Records at Bar Harbor, Me., in 1887, from +the Passamaquoddy Indian mentioned above by Mr. Leland, Mr. +Louis Mitchell, who was at that time Indian member of the Maine +Legislature. The manuscripts which he sent me contained both the +Indian text and a translation into Indian-English, which I have +rearranged in an idiom I trust somewhat more intelligible to the +general reader.[9] + +The Penobscot Indians of Maine number at present not more than three +hundred and fifty, most of whom are resident at the Indian village +of Oldtown on Penobscot River, near Bangor. These people still speak +a characteristic Algonkin language which bears more resemblance +to the idiom of the Abenakis at St. Francis, near Pierreville, +Quebec, than it does to that of the nearer Algonkin neighbors of the +Penobscots, the Passamaquoddies. Moreover, a philological examination +of Penobscot and Abenaki shows that both of these forms of Algonkin +speech are sister dialects, which have sprung from a common original +at a comparatively recent date.[10] It is well known that the +Abenakis of Canada are the direct descendants (of course with some +admixture of French and other blood) of the majority of the savages +who escaped from the great battle of the Kennebec in Maine, where +the English commander Bradford overthrew their tribe on December 3, +1679. Many of the survivors at once fled to French Canada, where they +settled themselves in their present village of St. Francis, near +Pierreville, Quebec (_Alsigontegok_, “river of empty habitations”). +Others again may have wandered into Canada at a slightly later date. +There can be little doubt that the Indians now called Penobscots +from their residence near the river of that name are the descendants +of those of the early Abenakis who, instead of fleeing to French +dominions, eventually submitted themselves to the victorious English. +It is interesting to notice that the Canadian Abenakis are the only +one of the Wabanaki clans which calls itself by the generic name +(_Abenaki-Wabanaki_). + +The Micmacs are the easternmost and by far the most numerous of the +Wabanaki remnants. They are to be found in various places in the +Canadian provinces of Quebec, New Brunswick, Nova Scotia, Prince +Edward’s Island, and Newfoundland. Their grade of intelligence is +much lower than that of the other members of the same family, but +they still have a vast store of folk-lore, legends, and poems which +is perishing for want of interested collectors. Their language +differs so greatly from the dialects of the Penobscots, Abenakis, and +Passamaquoddies that the members of these clans always use English +or French when communicating with their Micmac neighbors, while +an intelligent Passamaquoddy can without difficulty understand a +Penobscot or Abenaki, if the dialect is pronounced slowly. + +The story of the enforced westward wanderings of the ill-fated +Delawares or Lenâpe has been told in detail by my late friend Dr. +Brinton (“The Lenâpe and their Legends,” pp. 122–6). + +At the present day this famous tribe, whose three clans--the Minsi, +the Unami, and the Unalachtigo--were once the dominant native race +in Delaware, New Jersey, Pennsylvania, and parts of New York State +is represented by but a few bands living on scattered reservations, +some in Indian Territory and some in Ontario, Canada. The Delawares +of Indian Territory have quite lost their identity as a tribe of +Indians, as they have been incorporated with the Cherokee Nation, +by whose chief and council they are governed. The last recognized +Delaware chief of this division of the tribe was Charles Jurney-cake, +whose daughters are now married to white men. These Indians occupy +lands in the Muskogee Agency, situated in the northwestern part of +the Cherokee Nation. There are still about eight hundred Delawares in +this region, all of whom moved to the Cherokee country from Kansas, +in 1867. I am informed that a few members of the race linger on at +New Westfield, near Ottawa, Kansas, most of whom are under the charge +of the Moravian Church. + +In Ontario, Canada, there are only about three hundred in all; one +hundred at Hagersville, on the Six Nations’ (Iroquois) Reserve (Chief +Nelles Montour), one hundred at Munceytown, and the same number at +Moraviantown, which is the seat of a Moravian mission. The Canadian +Delawares are all Protestants, belonging, for the most part, either +to the Church of England or to the Moravians.[11] + +Brinton (_op. cit._, pp. 91 ff.) has pointed out the chief +differences between the two ancient dialects of the Lenâpe, viz.: +the Unami-Unalachtigo and the Minsi. Of these, the Minsi is spoken +by all the Canadian Delawares. In this connection, however, it +is interesting to note that, in a letter to Dr. Brinton, dated +Moraviantown, 1884, Chief Gottlieb Tobias states that three aged +persons were then living who could still talk the other dialect. It +is evident that most of the Delawares of Indian Territory use the +Unami-Unalachtigo, since Chief Montour, of Hagersville, Ont., writes +that, when he visited the Cherokee settlement of his race some years +ago, he could only understand with difficulty the speech of his +congeners resident there. On the other hand, he asserts that the +Delawares near Ottawa, Kansas, use pure Minsi. + +Chief Montour is a highly intelligent and well educated Indian who +takes a deep interest in the language and lore of his tribe. The +Delaware witchcraft tale given in the following collection about the +Muttóntoe was sent to me by him. + +The lore of the Maine and eastern Canadian Wabanaki may be said +to center chiefly around the clown-like being known to the +Passamaquoddies as Kulóskap and to the Penobscots as Klûskâbe. My +coadjutor, Mr. Leland, has ably treated of the nature of this purely +American creation in his Algonquin Legends, pp. 15–139. Kulóskap +(Klûskâbe) is a god-man of truly Indian type who undoubtedly +represents the principle of good, and particularly good nature, +as opposed to his twin-brother Malsum the Wolf, who may be called +the Ahrimân of the Wabanaki, although this is almost too dignified +a term. It is highly interesting to notice that these twins were +born from an unknown divine mother, the good Kulóskap in the natural +manner, and the evil Wolf through the woman’s side, a method which +he deliberately chose in order to kill his mother. The tendency of +Kulóskap, in spite of his name, was essentially benevolent. Oddly +enough Kulóskap means “the liar,” from a stem √_klûsk_, “lie” + +_ap_, “a man, person, one who stands.” The stem appears in Penobscot +only in compounds; cf. _klûskachemuwâgon_, “a lie falsehood.” This +appellation, uncomplimentary as it sounds to our ears, was not really +meant in this sense by the Indians. Kulóskap is called the deceiver, +not because he deceives or injures man, but because he is clever +enough to lead his enemies astray, the highest possible virtue to +the early American mind. Kulóskap was at once the creator and friend +of Man, and, strangely enough, he made the Indian (or Man; the terms +are synonymous) from the ash tree. The following collection of +songs, mostly from Micmac sources, bearing especially on the doings +of Kulóskap, has been arranged by Mr. Leland and myself into a sort +of epic embracing all the native lore known to us concerning this +personage. The same culture-hero appears in the legends of the entire +Algonkin family, although often under another name. In the present +collection, to secure uniformity, the single name of Kulóskap has +been used throughout. + +Wabanaki mythology was really pure Shamanism, seeing a spirit in +every tree and waterfall, and a malignant or benevolent influence +in many animals. Like most barbaric races, these people were also +fervent believers in witchcraft, a superstition which still survives +in the minds of many of the older Indians. Any missionary to the +Passamaquoddies, or to their kindred, the New Brunswick Milicetes, +the Penobscots of Oldtown, Me., or to the Micmacs and Abenakis +of Quebec, will admit that belief in the ancient Shamanistic +sorcery among these Indians has by no means died out. Among the +Passamaquoddies and Milicetes particularly, there is still a perfect +mine of material relating to the wizards and their power over other +men and over the curious beings with which the Indians have peopled +the mysterious forests of their country. + +In pre-Christian times the Passamaquoddies, like their other Algic +kindred, were firm believers in the almost unlimited power of their +_Mʾdeolinʾwuk_ or wizards, belief in the existence of many of whom +still remains, subordinate, of course, to the Catholic doctrine, +which nearly all the Indians profess--there being, I am informed, +only three or four Protestant Passamaquoddy families. + +A few examples of these sorcerers’ power are described below in +the curiously curt style of Algic narrative.[12] We see from these +tales that the wizards could transform themselves into animals at +will; that they could cast a spell or curse on an enemy, even though +he might also be a _Mʾdeolin_; that they could violate the laws of +nature so far as to walk in hard ground, sinking up to the ankles +or knees at every step, and, finally--that they could communicate +with each other telepathically. I need hardly comment on the first +two and the fourth of these wonders, as they are common among all +Shamanistic conjurers, but the third phenomenon, the power to sink +into hard ground while walking, is, I believe, characteristically +American. Rink states that this is not an unusual feat among the +conjurers of the Greenland Eskimo, who frequently sink into rocky and +frozen ground “as if in snow.” The trick is probably done by some +peculiar way of stooping, or is merely suggested, possibly by means +of hypnotic influence. Leland compares here, however, the Old Norse +statements regarding their wizards, who occasionally sank into the +ground and who had power to pass through earth with the same ease as +through air or water (Algonquin Legends, p. 342). It would be hardly +permissible to draw a parallel between the ancient Norsemen and the +northern Indians on this account, as the case Leland cites is that of +a conjurer who disappeared into the ground head downwards, when he +was stabbed at by a foe. It should be noticed that in the following +tale, my Passamaquoddy authority did not see the actual feat, but +only the deep tracks of the wizard where he had sunk into the earth +“the night before.” + +The anecdote of a cannibalistic feast is highly interesting. The +wizards here eat their murdered comrade, evidently with the idea of +absorbing into themselves some or all of his power. The cannibalistic +orgies of the South Sea Islanders should be compared with this +practice. For example, the Fijis and the New Zealand Maoris ate their +enemies with the same object in view, viz., to become as brave as +the fallen foe had been. All authorities tend to show, however, that +cannibalism was extremely rare among the American races, and was only +resorted to in isolated cases like the one here noted. + +In the Delaware tale given below, a similar instance of cannibalism +is cited; only in this case, the wizard, who is evidently a being +similar in nature to the Passamaquoddy _Kiwaʿkw_ or the Micmac +_Chînu_, desires to devour a very old, worn-out man. I can only look +upon this feature as a highly interesting relic from very primitive +times, when it was probably not unusual to devour the aged, perhaps +for a double purpose: both to get rid of them, as was the case until +recently among the islanders of Tierra del Fuego, and also, perhaps, +to absorb sacramentally into the living members of the family the +essence of the dead parent, whose soul is thus prevented from +becoming entirely extinct. The fact that a giant ghoul desires to +eat the Delaware old man is, however, a distinctly Algonkin feature, +quite in accord with the ideas prevalent among the Passamaquoddies, +Penobscots and Micmacs regarding the _Kiwaʿkw-Chînu_. + +The Passamaquoddy tale given below of the _Kiwaʿkw_ or snow demon is +one of a great number. The Algonkin Indian believed in many spirits, +some benevolent like the _Wʾnagʾmeswuk_ or “little people,” who were +wont to warn the tribesmen of impending danger; some neutral, like +the wandering _Kiwaʿkw_ in this tale, or the _Chibelaʿkwe_, the +tree sprite who sits in the crotch of the large branches; and some +again distinctly malevolent, like the _Appodumken_ or spirit of the +deep water, who lurks in the lakes to drag down the unwary swimmer. +The _Kiwaʿkw_, however, as remarked above, was often an evil being. +Compare also Leland’s wonderful tales of the _Chînu_ (Algonquin +Legends, pp. 233 ff). + +The reader’s attention should be called at this point to the +remarkable ideas prevalent among the Wabanaki regarding the +cohabitation of women and serpents (see below, and also Leland, _op. +cit._, pp. 268 ff). These may seem strange coming from a land where +there are no ophidians large enough to warrant such a superstition. +It is not impossible, however, that in these hideous tales we have +some relic of far distant prehistoric days when huge serpents were +not unknown. It should be added, moreover, that in every case of +such sexual relations between snakes and man among the Wabanaki the +serpent was always a wizard (_Mʾdeolin_) in disguise, a fact which +shows that in the later superstition at least the unusual character +of such monstrous serpents was fully appreciated. + +The following points should be noted with regard to the pronunciation +of the Indian words herein given. The vowels have the Italian values, +except that _ö_ = German _ö_ in _schön_. The apostrophe ʾ is a very +short _u_-vowel. The consonants are equivalent to the same consonants +in English, except that _ñ_ represents the French nasal _n_ in _mon_, +and the final combination _kw_ or final _q_ must be uttered as a _k_ +followed by _w_ accompanied by a gentle indeterminate short vowel. +The inverted apostrophe ʿ has the value of a softly breathed _h_. +Thus _kiwâʿkw_ must be pronounced _kee-wah-kwᵘ_. + +As explained the name of the culture-hero is spelled _Kulóskap_ +for the sake of uniformity, but so far as possible, the Indian +expressions used in the different stories have been kept in harmony +with the original languages. The reason for this discrepancy lies in +the fact that some of the Passamaquoddy and Micmac tales were related +by Penobscots, who frequently inadvertently used their own forms. For +the same reason, in some stories labelled as Micmac, Passamaquoddy +words will occasionally be found. In every such case the Micmac tales +came through a Passamaquoddy medium, who, whenever he was ignorant +of the proper Micmac word, used the corresponding Passamaquoddy +expression, but elsewhere employed Micmac words. The Indian +headings to the stories are nearly all in Passamaquoddy because the +_raconteurs_ generally began in this dialect, even when they broke +into Micmac or Penobscot in continuing the tale in question. The +Glossary explains every Indian word occurring in the midst of the +English text. + +We present these selections from the still vast storehouse of +Wabanaki lore, not to prove any preconceived theory as to their +origin, or as to the origin of the eastern coast tribes themselves. +No man can ever know now whence the Algonkin races came. Whether +they with other peoples were emigrants from palaeolithic Europe, +crossing by way of some long since vanished land-bridge, or whether +they wandered into their present habitat from the western part of +our own continent, having had their origin in pre-historic Asia, +it is impossible to say and, in view of the absolute darkness in +which we grope, all theories are futile. I cannot see a meaning in +the word _Wabanaki_, “land of the dawn or east,” which points to any +period further back than the time of these peoples’ first tribal +centralization on the present eastern coast of North America. + +Let then our labor in this work suffice merely to present to the +English-speaking public a few interesting and characteristic +specimens of the traditions of a rapidly perishing race--a race which +fifty years from now will have hardly a single living representative. + + JOHN DYNELEY PRINCE. + + +FOOTNOTES: + +[5] Cf. J. W. Tims, “Grammar and Dictionary of the Blackfoot +Language,” London, 1889. + +[6] Cf. Horden, “Grammar of the Cree Language,” London, 1881; Wilson, +“The Ojebway Language,” Toronto, 1874. + +[7] Cf. Prince, in _Misc. Linguistica Ascoliana_, Turin, 1901, p. 344. + +[8] See Prince, Annals N. Y. Academy of Sciences, XI., No. 15, pp. +370–374. + +[9] See Prince, Proceedings of the American Philosophical Society, +XXXVI., pp. 479 ff. + +[10] See Prince, American Anthropologist, IV., No. 1. + +[11] See Prince, American Journal of Philology, XXI., pp. 295, 296. + +[12] See also Prince, Proceedings of the American Philosophical +Society, XXXVIII., pp. 181–189. + + + + + PART FIRST + + =The Epic of Kulóskap= + + + + + =Canto First= + + CREATION LEGENDS + + + + + I + + THE BIRTH OF KULÓSKAP, THE LORD OF BEASTS AND MEN, + AND THE DEATH OF MALSUM THE WOLF + + [_Passamaquoddy_] + + _Yut nit nʾkani akʾnodʾmâgon + Uch Kulóskap elaknotmotits piche._[13] + + +[Illustration] + + Wonderful traditions + Of the olden time; + Very old indeed, + Ere the world began: + + The great lord Kulóskap + Who in after days + Was worshipped everywhere + By the Wabanaki + Or Children of the Dawn, + Was as yet unborn, + Living as a twin + With another named + Malsumsis--the Wolf. + Wolf, the lesser one, + As his brother was good + So was this one bad; + One, the Lord of Light, + One, of Darkness dire. + + Now ere they were born, + The two a council held + That they might decide + How they would be born. + And Kulóskap said: + “I shall be content + If I may come to life + Even as others come.” + But Malsum, the Wolf, + Said: “Just as you will; + But I am too great + E’er to see the light + As common creatures do; + I will burst to light + Rending everything + E’en through death to life.” + + So it came to pass + Kulóskap, the Lord, + Came in peace to light; + Malsum kept his word, + And the mother died. + + So the two grew up, + Till one day the Wolf, + Who knew that both were given + Strange mysterious lives + Charmed ’gainst everything + Save one concealèd death, + Asked of the elder what + His hidden bane might be? + + Then the wise Kulóskap + Thought how when he was born + Malsumsis in his pride + Had slain his mother; + And he said: “If Wolf knew + The secret of my life, + That life would soon be o’er.” + And therefore he agreed + To tell Malsum the Wolf + The secret of his death, + If he the younger born + Would tell him in return + The secret of his own. + + Therefore the elder said, + To test his brother’s truth: + “The feather of an owl + Is the one thing on earth + Which e’er can end my life.” + In sooth, this was a lie + Although no evil one, + And yet from uttering it + Kulóskap got his name + Which means the Liar, or, + As Indians mean the word: + A wise and crafty man. + + And then it came to pass + That in the after-days + Kwâbîtsis the son + Of the Great Beaver, or + As others tell the tale + Miʿko the squirrel, or else + The very devil himself + Who dwelt within his heart, + Tempted Malsum to slay + His brother Kulóskap; + For in those early days + All men were wicked--all + Lived but in evil deeds. + + So Malsum took his bow + And, stealing through the woods + Into his dark retreat, + Shot Koʿkoʿkhas, the owl, + And with his feathers struck + Kulóskap while asleep. + + Up leaped the Lord enraged, + Yet even in his wrath + He spoke right craftily: + “Thou ever evil One! + Thou murderer of all! + Know that no feather can + E’er take my life. ’Tis by + A pine-root and a blow + That I am doomed to die, + By that, and that alone.” + + So on another day + When both together went + A-hunting in the woods + Kulóskap laid him down + To sleep upon the leaves + Where all was very still; + Then Malsum, ever bent + On evil and on death, + With a great pine-tree root + Smote with his giant strength + His brother on the head. + Up leapt the Lord again + Unharmèd as before, + And drove the Wolf away, + Away in bitter scorn, + Away into the woods. + + Then sitting by a brook + He saw the flowering rush, + Or cat-tail, in the stream-- + Of all the plants on earth + The weakest, softest thing-- + And said unto himself, + Although he spoke aloud: + “What soul would ever dream + That in that plant abides + The secret of my death?” + + The Beaver who lay hid + Deep down among the reeds. + Heard what the Lord had said, + And hastening to Malsumsis + Told him the whole. For this + Malsum had freely sworn + To give the Beaver aught + Or all that he might wish. + + But when the Beaver asked + For wings, that he might fly + Even as pigeons do, + Malsum replied in scorn, + And laughing from his heart: + “Thou with a sorry tail + Like any rugged rasp, + What need hast _thou_ of wings! + Mud-scraper! Get thee gone!” + + In a bitter rage + Forth the Beaver ran, + Ran by night and day, + Till he found the Lord, + Kulóskap the Wise, + Unto whom he told + All that he had done, + Sorrowing that he + Had so evil been, + Sorrowing that he + Had ever heard and told + The secret of his life. + Then in sorrow too, + And yet in anger grim, + Up the Lord arose, + Rose all in his might, + And plucking up a fern, + Sought in the deep dark wood + For Malsumsis the Wolf: + And having found him there + Smote him a single blow; + Down fell the demon dead. + + Then Kulóskap sang a song, + Lamenting for the dead; + Though ever unto him + He had so evil been, + And as a bitter foe + Had sought to end his life; + Sung over him a song, + Then homewards went his way. L. + + +FOOTNOTES: + +[13] This is an ancient story of Kulóskap which they told long ago. + + + + + II + + THE CREATION OF MAN AND THE ANIMALS + + [_Passamaquoddy and Micmac_] + + _Kulóskap nitamk naga nit kʾchi pechies + Yut kilun kʾmʾt-kinansnok._[14] + + + Kulóskap was first, + First and greatest, + To come into our land-- + Into Nova Scotia, Canada, + Into Maine, into Wabanaki, + The land of sunrise, or light. + + There were no Indians like us, + Here in those early days; + Only far in the West + Lived red men strange and wild. + + First born were the Miʿkumwessuk + The fairies of the forest, + The Wʾnâgʾmeswuk, elves, + The little men, dwellers in rocks. + + Thus it was Kulóskap the Great + Made man: He took his arrows + And shot at a tree--the ash, + Known as the basket-tree. + +[Illustration: =The Creation of Man=] + + From the hole made by the arrow + Came forth new forms, and these + Were the first of human kind. + And so the Lord gave them a name + Meaning “those born from trees.” + + Kulóskap the Lord of Light + Made all the animals. + First, he created + All of giant size; + Such was the beginning. + Then he said to Teâm, the Moose, + Who was tall as the Kiwaʿkw, + The colossal giant of the mountain, + The awful king of the forest, + The lord of the roaring river: + “What wouldst thou do, Teâm, + Shouldst thou see man a-coming?” + Answered the monstrous Teâm, + “I would tear the trees down on him.” + Then the Lord Kulóskap + Saw that the Moose was too strong; + So he made him smaller and weaker + So that the Indians could kill him. + + Even so with the Squirrel + Who was as large in those days + As the great wolf in our time; + “What would you do, Sâkskadu?” + Asked the Lord of Beasts and Men, + “If you should meet an Indian?” + “I would scratch up trees by their roots + That they might fall upon him.” + Answered the Squirrel undaunted. + “Thou also art far too strong,” + Replied the mighty Master; + So he smoothed him down in his hands, + And, as he was smoothed, the Squirrel + Grew ever smaller and smaller, + Till he was as we see him now. + + Then he asked the Great White Bear: + “And thou, Kʾchî Mūʾūin! + What wouldst thou do if ever + A man should come in thy way?” + And the Bear replied: “I would eat him.” + Then the Master bade him go + And live among rocks and ice, + Very far away in the North, + Where he would see no Indians. + And there he is ever in snow. + + So Kulóskap the Great, + Lord of all things that are, + Did question all the beasts, + Changing their size or strength, + Or measuring out their lives, + According to their answers. + + He took the Loon for his hunter + To serve him as a dog; + But the Loon was often absent, + Not to be found when wanted; + So he took in his place two Wolves, + One black, the other white; + And these wild dogs are his messengers + Who bear to him tidings of all. + + Many years ago, + Yet still within our time, + Very far to the North, + An Indian in his canoe + Was about to cross a bay + To a distant place; + When, just before he launched, + There came in haste a stranger + Followed by two great dogs, + Who asked to be taken over. + “You may come,” replied the Indian, + “Come over the bay and welcome, + But what will you do with your dogs? + For we cannot take them with us!” + + The stranger replied, “They may go + Around by land and meet us.” + “That cannot be,” said the other, + “No dogs could run such a distance, + Not even in weeks of running.” + But as there was no answer + He paddled, saying nothing, + Over the bay to the landing, + And there the dogs were waiting! + But when he turned his head + He found the stranger had vanished, + And then he said to himself: + “Now have I seen Kulóskap, + The Lord of Beasts and Men.” + + And yet at a later day + At a place afar in the North, + There were many Indians assembled + When there came a strange commotion. + The ground was heaving and rumbling, + The rocks were shaking and falling, + And even the boldest among them + Felt faint at heart with terror; + When lo, they saw before them + The Lord of all, Kulóskap! + And he said to them: “Lo, I am here, + And when you feel the ground + Trembling again as to-day, + Then know that I have returned.” + So it is that man will know + When the last great war shall be, + The war of the Final Day! + For then Kulóskap the Lord + Will make the plain and the mountains + Shake with an awful noise. + + The Beaver had been the foe + Of the Lord in the beginning; + Hence it came that Kulóskap slew + Full many of the tribe. + Away up in the Tobaic + Are two salt water rocks-- + That is, they stand by the ocean + Near a fresh water stream-- + A spot which to the Beaver + Had ever been forbidden. + But one day when far away, + So far that none could see + Who had not the magic vision, + Kulóskap saw the Beaver + Defying his injunction, + And drinking from the stream. + Then with his might, in anger, + The god tore up a rock + And hurled it at the Beaver. + It was many leagues away, + The Beaver deftly dodged it-- + Few beasts are so quick at dodging-- + But when another boulder + Came after the first one, Kwâbît + Ran deep into a mountain + From which he came forth no more. + But the rocks which the Master threw, + And the mountain and the fountain, + Are shown unto this day; + And the Indians say in reverence; + “Kulóskap once was here!” + + +FOOTNOTES: + +[14] Kulóskap was the greatest one who ever came into our land. + + + + + III + + THE ORIGIN OF THE RATTLESNAKES + + [_Passamaquoddy_] + + _Ntʾladwewâgʾnuk aʿtosis yut the snake._[15] + + + You know Aʿtosis, the Snake? + Truly all snakes are evil, + But worst among them all + Is the Rattlesnake their master. + Well! In the olden time, + The Rattlesnakes were Indians, + And they were very saucy: + Men said they were all face, + And never could be frozen; + They could not be put down by much, + And they rose for very little. + When the Great Flood was coming, + Kulóskap the awful prophet, + Gave them full warning of it. + They answered, “They did not care.” + He told them that the water + Would rise o’er the heads of all; + They said, “Should this come to pass, + We shall all be very wet.” + He bade them be good and quiet, + And pray to escape from drowning; + They whooped and hurrahed to mock him. + He said, “The Great Flood is coming!” + They gave three cheers for the Flood. + Then he added, “’Twill drown you all!” + The Indians whooped again, + And got out all their rattles, + Which were made of turtle shell + Containing little pebbles, + And rattled with all their might + In a daring dance to the Flood. + + Yes, ’twas a rattling dance! + The rain began to fall, + But the Indians danced on. + The thunder roared, and they answered + With rattles and with war-cries + The Indians danced on. + To the flash and crash of lightning + Amid the rising waters + The Indians danced on! + + Then Kulóskap was angry + Yet in the rising flood + He did not drown a soul, + But for their arrogance + Changed all to serpent form-- + That of the Rattlesnake, + Which crawls about the rocks, + And so unto this day, + Whene’er they see a man, + They lift their heads and hiss; + And move them up and down-- + That is the way snakes dance, + Shaking their rattles, too, + As we do when we dance. + How do you like the sound? L. + +[Illustration: =The Origin of the Rattlesnakes=] + + +FOOTNOTES: + +[15] In my language _aʿtosis_ is the snake. + + + + + IV + + HOW KULÓSKAP NAMED THE ANIMALS, AND DISCOVERED + THAT MAN WAS THE LORD OF THEM ALL + + [_Passamaquoddy_] + + _Wut ktagʾnodʾmul uch Kulóskap._[16] + + + This is an ancient tale of the Lord, + Told ’mid the tales of the spirit time, + How the Master of Beasts and Men + Was born in the Sunrise land, + The land of the Wabanaki; + Though other traditions tell + That he came from across the ocean + In a great stone canoe, + A barque which was all of granite, + Covered with trees for masts. + When the great Lord of All, + The Chief of Beasts and Men, + Descended from this ark, + He went into the land + Of the Wabanaki, + The children of the Light; + And calling all the Beasts + Gave unto each a name: + Unto the Bear, Mūūin; + And as he gave it, asked: + “Oh Bear, what would’st thou do, + If thou should’st meet a man?” + To which Mūūin replied + Simply and honestly: + “I fear him and should run.” + “Well spoken,” said the Lord, + “Man should be feared by all.” + + Now at that time, Miʿko, + The Squirrel, was as great, + Or, some say, far more great + Than even the Northern Bear; + So the Lord Kulóskap + Took Miʿko ’neath his hands, + And softly smoothed him down; + And as he felt the touch + Miʿko grew less and less, + And dwindled until he + Was what we see him now. + Howbeit in later days, + Miʿko was Kulóskap’s dog, + And, when the Master willed, + He oft grew large again + Touched by the Master’s hand, + And slew his fiercest foes. + But, being asked what he + Would do if chased by Man, + Miʿko at once exclaimed: + “I would climb up a tree + As fast as legs could run.” + + “Well answered,” said the Lord, + “And therefore, I ordain + That from this day henceforth + Thou and thy kind at large + Shall ever dwell in trees.” + + The Moose was standing by, + Intently looking on, + With great, soft, staring eyes, + Attending to it all + With deepest interest. + Calling then Kchi Mūs, + Big Moose, the Master said: + “But say what would’st thou do + If thou should’st meet with Man?” + “In faith,” replied Kchi Mūs, + “I’d canter through the woods + Fast as my legs would fly.” + “Well spoken,” said the god, + “So shalt thou ever live + In shade and forests wild.” + + The Beaver being asked + What he would do, replied + That he would seek a stream + Ere he would face mankind. + So the great Lord perceived + That of all creatures born + Who walked upon the earth + The first and best was Man. L. + + +FOOTNOTES: + +[16] This I will tell you about Kulóskap. + + + + + =Canto Second= + + THE MASTER’S KINDNESS TO MAN + + + + + I + + WHAT KULÓSKAP DID FOR THE INDIANS + + [_Passamaquoddy_] + + _Piche mesogw Kulóskap nemiquosikw._[17] + + +[Illustration] + + In the very olden time + Before Kulóskap the Master, + The Lord of Beasts and Men, + Had come into the world, + Or man was by him instructed, + All lived in wonderful darkness; + Men could not even see + To slay their enemies; + But the Lord brought light unto them, + The daybreak and the dawn. + Therefore, for this his people + Are known as the Wabanaki, + The Men of the Early Dawn. + + And many a thing he taught them: + The noble art of hunting, + How to build huts and canoes, + And weirs to catch the fishes, + And how to trap the beaver, + And net the shad and salmon. + Before he came they knew not + How to make nets or weapons; + Then he, the Mighty Master, + Showed them the hidden virtues + Of plants and roots and blossoms, + And all the herbs which Indians + Could use for any purpose; + And also every creature, + Beasts, birds, and all the fishes, + All things which could be eaten + Or serve for joy to man. + + Then, pointing to the heaven, + He taught the names of the stars, + With all the wonderful stories, + The very old traditions, + Of all that the planets had been. + + He greatly loved mankind, + And wherever he might be, + Though afar in the wilderness, + He never was far away, + Away from his Indian children. + He dwelt in a lonely land, + But whoever went to seek him + The Master ever found. L. + + +FOOTNOTES: + +[17] Long ago before Kulóskap was seen. + + + + + II + + HOW KULÓSKAP GRANTED GIFTS AND FAVORS TO MANY INDIANS + + [_Micmac and Passamaquoddy_] + + + Long ere Kulóskap the Master + Had left the land and his people, + And before he had ceased to wander + In the ways of man, he called + The loons his faithful servants, + And bade them make it known + That for many years to come + He would still remain on earth, + And that whoever would seek him + Might have one wish full granted, + Whatever that wish might be. + + Although the journey was long + And the trials were terrible + Which all must endure who would find + The Lord of Men and Beasts, + There were many who ventured on + The wonderful pilgrimage. + Now you may hear what happened + To several of these seekers, + Even as I heard the tales + From a Passamaquoddy _Sénap_. + + When all the land had heard + That the Master would grant a wish + To any who would seek him, + Three Indians resolved + That they would try this thing. + One was a Milicete + Who came from near St. John, + And the other two were Penobscots + From Oldtown, that is in Maine. + And they went upon the journey + And found that the path was long, + And the way was very hard; + Their sufferings were great, + It was well nigh seven years + Before they saw the Lord. + But while it was yet three months + Ere they came unto his dwelling, + They heard the bark of his dogs, + And, as day by day they drew nearer + The sound grew louder and louder, + Till after many trials + Led by the bay of the hounds + They found the mighty one, + The Lord of Men and Beasts, + And he made them very welcome + And entertained them all. + + Then in due time he asked them + What was it they desired. + And then the first replied--An + honest simple man + Who was of but little account + Among the Indian people + Because he hunted badly-- + He prayed that he might excel + In killing or catching game; + Then the Master gave him a flute, + Or the magic pipe which pleases + The ear of everyone, + And has the power to bring + By wonderful fascination + All animals to that piper + Who plays it in their haunts. + He thanked the Lord and left. + + [Illustration: + But, smiling anew, he gave him + A bag which was tightly tied.] + + Now the second of the three, + A reckless amorous youth + Yet who never could succeed + In winning women’s love, + When asked what he would have + Said: “I would win my way + To many maidens’ hearts!” + And being questioned, “How many?” + Replied, “I would know no limit. + Let there be only enough, + And more than enough beside.” + Thereat the Master frowned, + But, smiling anew, he gave him + A bag which was tightly tied, + And said to him, “Do not open + Till you shall have reached your home.” + So he thanked the Lord and left. + + Now the third who had come with these + Was a gay and handsome youth, + Yet very foolish withal + Since he cared for nothing whatever + Save to make the Indians laugh, + And to cut a figure with jests + At every gathering. + He, being asked what he sought, + Replied that he fain would have + The power to make a sound + Which when uttered would startle all, + And make them laugh indeed + As they never had laughed before. + This was a wondrous cry + Which the sorcerers of yore + Uttered to gladden hearts, + But now that the art is lost. + That is indeed the cause + That our times are so sorrowful, + Since that magic, merry cry + Is heard no more in the land. + + And unto him likewise + The Master was truly kind + Sending Marten into the woods + To seek for a certain root + Which, when eaten by any one, + Conferred the mystic power + Of making the wondrous sound. + But when it was bestowed + He was warned not to touch + The root till he reached his home. + + It had taken them seven years + To reach the Master’s lodge, + But seven days were enough + To tread the path to their huts-- + That is, for him who got there, + For indeed there was only one, + And that was the hunter, who + With his marvellous pipe in his pocket, + And never a care in his heart, + Trudged on well satisfied + To think that all his life + He never should want a joint + Of venison in his cabin + Or a bear-skin to lie upon, + As indeed he never did. + + Now the one who so loved women + And never had won a wife, + Was wild with wistfulness + And great anxiety. + Therefore he could not wait, + And he had not gone very far + Into the woods, ere he + Sat down and opened the bag. + There was a whirr as of wings + And they came flying forth + By hundreds round his head + Like beautiful white doves + Swarming all about-- + Wonderful lovely girls + With large black burning eyes, + And torrents of flowing hair. + Wild with passion the witches + Threw their fair arms around him + And kissed him as he responded + To their ardent, fond embraces. + But ever more and more + They came, more glowing with love, + Till he bade them give way for a space, + Till he bade them let him be; + But they only pressed the more. + So, panting, crying for breath, + And smothered in love, he died, + And those who came that way + Found him a silent corpse, + But what became of the witches + Kulóskap only can tell! + + Now the third went merrily on, + Tramping along through the woods, + When it flashed upon his mind + In an instant, that Kulóskap + Had bestowed on him a gift; + And, without the slightest heed + To what the Master had said + Of waiting till he got home, + He took out the magic root + And ate it, then and there; + When all at once he found + He could utter the magic cry + Which startles all who hear it, + Inspiring them to joy + And making them laugh aloud; + Then, as it rang afar + O’er many a forest dale + Waking the ringing echo + Of the far-distant hill, + Until it was answered by + A solemn snowy owl, + He felt that he had won + A wondrous power indeed; + So he walked gayly on + O’er many a hill and dale, + Whistling or trumpeting + As happy as a bird. + + But he ere long began + To weary of himself, + When, seeing in a glade + A deer, he bent his bow; + When, just as he would shoot, + The wild unearthly sound + Broke out, despite himself, + Even like a demon warble, + The deer took flight and fled; + And the young man cursed aloud! + + And when he reached the town + Half dead with hunger, he + Indeed was little worth + To make the others laugh, + Though for a time he did, + Which somewhat cheered his heart, + But, as the days went on, + They wearied of the sound, + And, when they saw him come, + Turned off another way; + Which vexed him to the heart, + So that one day he went + Alone into the woods + And there he slew himself. + + The dark and evil demon, + The sprite of the night-air, + Pʾmûla named by some, + From whom the gift had come, + Swooped down from clouds on high, + And bore his soul away + To the dwelling place of darkness + And men heard of him no more. + + Now ’tis a thing well known + To all the Indians + Who keep the holy faith + Of the good olden time, + That there are wondrous dwellers + Deep in the silent woods, + Such as the elves and fairies + Who are called by different names; + In Micmac Wigŭladŭmūchŭk + But by the Passamaquoddy + Wʾnâgʾméswuk. They + Can work strange deeds and sing + Such songs of magic power + As charm the wildest beasts + And tame the wolf and bear + And soothe the wolverine. + From them and them alone + Are brought the magic pipes, + Or flutes, which sometimes pass + To sorcerers or great braves. + When these are played upon + Women who hear the tone + Are all bewitched with love, + And the moose and caribou + Follow the winning sound, + Yes, even to their death; + And when the forest elves + Are pleased with anyone + They make of him an elf + E’en like unto themselves. + + Back in the olden time + There was an Indian town + In which dwelt two young men, + Kekwâjû the Badger, + And the other Kâktugwââsis, + The Little Thunder. They + Chanced to hear that Kulóskap + Would give to anyone + Whatever he desired: + + And so they went their way + On the long pilgrimage + For many years, until + They reached the wondrous isle + Where the great Master dwelt, + Where first they met Dame Bear, + Then Marten, and at last + The mighty Lord himself + Who welcomed them with grace. + + Then all sat down to a meal, + But all that was placed before them + Was one small dish of meat, + A very tiny morsel. + Then the elder of the pilgrims, + A reckless jolly fellow, + Thinking it was a joke + And that he was mocked for sport, + Cut off nearly all the meat, + And ate it. Then what was left + Grew at once to its former size; + So it went on, and all + Ate all that they desired, + And found the food of the best, + And when the meal was over + The dish was as full as before. + + Now of these two, the Badger + Had set his heart on becoming + A wigʾladʾmûch or fairy, + Which would give him magic power + While the other wished to win + A very beautiful girl, + The daughter of a chief, + A most powerful Sagamore, + Who set such cruel tasks + To all who came to woo her + That all who had made the trial + Thus far had come to their deaths. + + Then the Master took the Badger + Who sought initiation + Into the occult art, + And by a wondrous trick + Covered him all with filth + And put him to utter shame + Then led him down to the river + Where he washed him clean, and gave him + A beautiful change of clothing. + And, combing his hair, placed on it + A fillet of wondrous virtue; + For when he had bound it on + He became a wigʾladʾmûch + A fairy and enchanter, + No longer a common mortal, + But one of the elfin world.[18] + + And as he wished to excel + In magic song and music, + The Master gave him a flute, + Which would charm all living beings; + And, singing, he bade him join + In the air, and as he did so, + He found he knew all the art; + And from that day, thereafter, + He had a wondrous voice. + + Now to seek the beautiful girl + It was needful that the lover + Should sail far over the sea; + And during this adventure + The Būʾūin or magician + Was charged to take all care + Of Kâktugwââs, the Thunder; + And therefore he begged the Master + To lend him his canoe, + To which Kulóskap answered, + “I will gladly lend it to thee + If thou’lt honestly return it + When thou needest it no more. + For I tell thee in very truth + I never yet did intrust it + To any mortal man + But what in the end I had to + Go after it myself.” + + Then the Badger solemnly swore + That, as he was an honest Indian, + He would, when the need was over, + Indeed return the canoe. + For never in all his life + Had he stolen any _Kwédŭn_ + (Canoe) nor borrowed anything + Without returning it promptly. + + But when they came to the bay + There was no canoe to be seen, + But not very far away, + There arose a little island + Of granite which was covered + With pine-trees, tall and waving. + “See--that is my canoe!” + The Master said to them smiling, + And when he took them on it + They found that it was indeed + A great and large canoe + With lofty masts, and sails-- + So the two went forth rejoicing. + + Then they sailed on and came + To a large and beautiful island + Where they carefully hid the canoe. + Ere long they came to a village + That of the Sagamore, + The father of the girl + For whom many had lost their lives. + And, having come to his wigwam, + They entered and were welcomed + And placed on the seat of honor, + And sat at the evening meal. + Now ’tis of old the custom + When an Indian seeks a wife, + Be it from her father or friends, + He makes small ado about it, + And only utters two words + Which mean in the Micmac language: + “I am tired of living alone.” + + And the Sagamore hearing this, + Consented that Little Thunder + Should marry her whom he sought, + But on several conditions-- + The first that he should slay + And bring to him the head + Of a certain horrible monster, + Like to a wingless dragon, + The dreadful and horned Chipíchkâm. + So this was agreed upon, + Then the strangers went to their cabin + And all the world to sleep. + + All save the wise Būʾūin + Who soon arose from his bed, + And went alone and afar, + Till he came to the den of the monster + In a gaping gulf in the ground. + Over the hole he laid + A mighty log, and began + The magic dance round the den; + Then the serpent or great Chipíchkâm, + Hearing the call, came forth, + Putting out his head from the hole, + And weaving it about + After the manner of snakes. + While he was doing this, + He rested his head for an instant + On the over-arching log, + When, with a blow of his hatchet + The Indian severed the neck; + Then, taking the head by one + Of its shining yellow horns, + He bore it to his friend + Who gave it in the morning + Unto the chief, who said: + “This time I fear indeed, + That I must lose my child, + Yet thou hast more to do.” + + More indeed, for the chief + Said, “Look at yonder hill, + I fain would see my son + Coast down it on a sled.” + Now the hill was indeed a mountain. + Its sides were very steep, + Ragged with rocks and holes + And terrible with trees + And rough with snow and ice. + + Then they brought out two toboggans, + One for the strangers. This + The Badger should direct; + While on the other sat + Two great and powerful men, + And these were Būʾūinuk + Or sorcerers who were skilled + In sledding, and they hoped + To see the others soon + Fall out upon the ground, + And then to run over them. + + And at the word they went + Flying at fearful speed + Adown the mountain side, + And ever faster still + As if to headlong death. + Soon he who sought the girl + Went whirling from his sled, + And the two sorcerers howled + In triumph an hurrah! + For they knew not that this was done + By their enemy that he + Might get them before his sledge. + Then he put forth his arm, + And seizing the younger man + Turned for a pace aside, + And then again shot on. + Then the sorcerers stopped, + Thinking that those before + Were checked and at an end; + When lo! their enemy + In his sled shot over their heads, + And over a mighty wall + Of ice, as a bird might fly + High above all in the air; + Then, touching the ground once more, + Ran with tremendous speed, + First down into the vale, + Then up, and ever up + Upon the opposite hill + Where the village stood, till it struck + The wigwam of the chief, + Ripping it all in two. + Again the Sagamore said: + “This time I fear indeed + That I must lose my child: + Yet thou hast more to do!” + + Yes, and far more to do: + For then the Sagamore said: + “I have a runner here, + A man so fleet of foot + That never in his life + Has he been overcome, + And thou must strive with him + And gain the victory + Ere thou canst win thy wife.” + So then the race was set, + And Thunder should compete, + But at the time his friend + Lent him the magic pipe + Which gave him wondrous power + Over all dark sorcery + Such as Būʾūinuk use + And witches dark and vile. + + Now when the pair had met + The youth said: “Who art thou?” + And the sorcerer replied: + “I am the Wegaduskʾ;” + Which means the Northern Lights, + “But tell me who art thou?” + “I am Wosogwoesk, + Chain-lightning is my name,” + The Thunder answering said. + And, as the race was run + All in the early morn, + Then in an instant both + No longer were in sight. + They were far, far away + Beyond the distant hills; + Then, waiting, all sat still, + Till long before the noon + Chain-lightning came again; + He showed no weariness, + Nor was he out of breath, + Yet had gone through the world. + Then all sat still again + Till evening, when they saw + The Northern Light return + Completely, sadly tired; + He quivered and he shook + As beaten by fatigue, + Yet for all that the Light + Had not been through the world, + For, coming to the south, + The heat had sent him home. + Again the Sagamore said, + “This time I fear again + That I must lose my child, + Yet thou hast more to do.” + + The Sagamore had a man + Whom none could overcome + In swimming of all kinds, + Or diving in the sea; + With him the youth must strive. + And when they met, the Badger + Asked him, “What is thy name?” + And he replied, “I am + Ukchigʾmûech (Sea Duck), + But tell me who art thou?” + He answerèd “The Kwîmû,” + That is, “the Loon,” and then + They dived from a high rock + Deep down into the sea. + Ere long the Sea Duck rose + Again to get his breath, + But long the Indians + Waited and watched until + They saw the Loon again. + An hour passed, and then + Another hour, before + He rose from the deep sea. + But when at last he came, + The Sagamore sadly said, + “This is the end of all + Our weary work, for now, + I have truly lost my child!” + + Yet it was not the end + Of all the curious deeds + Which they beheld, before + The strangers took their leave. + For, when the wedding came + In the evening of that day, + There was a general dance, + A wild festivity, + At which the wizard bold + Astonished every one; + For as he danced around + On the hard beaten floor, + They saw his feet sink in + Deeper at every step, + And ever deeper still + As the strange dance went on, + Still ploughing up the ground + In ridges rough and high, + Forming a trench, until + His head and nothing more + Could from without be seen. + That ended all the dance, + Since no one after him + Save wizards or a witch + Could dance on such a floor. + + The bridegroom and the bride, + With them the wizard bold, + Then entered the canoe + And sailed away toward home; + Yet they had more to meet, + And trials to endure, + Though of no dangerous kind; + ’Tis said they were but jests + Played by the Master’s skill. + For they had not gone far, + When right before their path + They saw an awful storm + Coming to meet them. He + Who had the elfin power + Knew that it had been raised + By sorcery, because + The tempests which are due + To hidden magic power + Are ever worst of all. + So without fear he rose + And sang the sorcerer’s song, + And, filling lungs and cheeks + With air, he blew against + The rising hurricane, + Wind against wind until + He blew the wind away, + Then all the mighty flood + Was smooth as smooth could be: + + So they sailed ever on + Over a sunlit sea, + And yet it was not long + Ere the elf-gifted one + Saw rising ’mid the waves + A dark and curious form, + That of a monstrous beast + Fast-coming as a foe, + And then they knew it was + The Giant Beaver, called + Kwâbît, in fearful rage; + But when the mighty one + Saw this, he sailed direct + Even at the monster’s jaws, + And, coming to him, said: + “Lo, I am the great foe + Of all thy race and called + The Beaver-Hunter; I, + Am he who butchers them; + Full many a one ere now + Has perished by my hand.”[19] + Kwâbît had placed himself + Under the water, with + His tail upraised above + The level of the waves, + That he might sink the barque + With one tremendous blow, + As is the Beaver’s way; + But he of magic power + With well directed stroke + Of the _tumîhîgʾn_, or + His tomahawk, then cut + The body from the tail, + Leaving the Beaver dead; + Then blithely sailed away. + + Yet had they not gone far + When coming round a point + They saw another beast, + Also of giant size, + Waiting to be their death; + Abúkchelû the Skunk, + A thing which many dread + More than a raging wolf; + And he, too, had his tail + Uplifted in the air; + But, ere the brute could make + His hideous attack, + The wary gifted one + Caught up his hunting spear, + And, hurling it with haste, + So pierced Abúkchelû, + That father of the skunks, + That down he fell and died. + Thrice did he kick in pain + Before he passed away. + So then the gifted one, + Stepping upon the shore, + Took up a long dead pine + Which lay upon the shore, + And, as he stuck its point + Into Abúkchelû, + Lifted him high in air, + And, fastening the tree + Firmly into the ground, + Left him, and said with scorn, + Even as he turned away; + “Just show your tail now, there!” + + And ever they sailed on + Over the silver sea, + O’er blue and dancing waves, + Till home they came with joy, + And at the landing place + They saw the Master stand; + And his first words were, “Well! + I see, my friends, that you + Have brought me my canoe + All safely back again.” + And they replied, “We have.” + And gayly he inquired + “Has all gone well with you?” + And when he thus had said, + He laughed and let them know + ’Twas he in all their trials + And triumphs who had worked + And brought it all to pass. + + Then to the gifted one + He said, “Now go in peace + Thy way with these thy friends; + Lead ever happy lives + There in the elfin world + Deep in the forest-shades, + Far in the silent land + Of flowers and mystery. + But of this thing be sure, + If any care should come + Unto you, think of me + And I will give you aid.” + + They rose and went their way. + + +FOOTNOTES: + +[18] All of this corresponds accurately to the ancient Greek and +Roman initiation to the Mysteries, in which the hair-string or fillet +played a prominent part. L. + +[19] This is oddly like the declaration of the Beaver Killer in The +Hunting of the Snark, in fact, it is almost identical with it. But +the Rand MS. in which it occurs was written many years before the +latter work appeared. + + + + + III + + KULÓSKAP AND THE FOOL + + [_Micmac_] + + _Kes saak: Nigumaach ut + Agunudumâkun Klûskâbel._[20] + + + “Of the old times the tale is, + A story of Kulóskap,” + Unto whom there went full many + When they heard that all could have + Whatever they desired; + And truly he gave them all + Whate’er it was they asked for, + But whether they got their wish + Depended on the wisdom + Which they showed when it was won. + + Now the Master liked it not + If, when he had plainly told + What it was that one must do, + That man should double on him + Or quibble, or disobey. + So then it came to pass + That a certain fool of the kind + Who never can do aught + Without a twist or a turn + In his own peculiar way, + Went a long journey to ask + A favor of the Lord. + His trials were many and sore; + He came unto a chain + Of mountains exceeding high, + In a dark and lonely land + Wherein no sound was heard; + And the ascent was hard + As climbing a slippery pole. + And the going down + Or descent on the other side + Was more ungrateful still, + For ’twas all a precipice + With broken, crumbly edge + Which overhung a gulf; + Yet it was worse beyond. + For there the road led on + Between the hideous heads + Of two great serpents, which + Did almost touch their lips, + And darted terrible tongues + At those who went between. + And yet again ’twas worse + When the way passed under a wall, + The awful Wall of Death + Which hung like a dreadful cloud + Over a dismal plain, + Rising and falling at times; + Yet when, no one could know. + So those who were beneath + When it fell and struck the ground + Were ever crushed to death. + + Yet he escaped all this + And came to the Master’s home + Where he was well received, + And dwelt for many days; + And when the Master asked + What ’twas that he would have? + He answered, “If my Lord + Will give me a medicine + Which will cure me of every ill, + I shall be well content.” + And he asked for nothing more. + Then the Master gave to him + A little package, and said: + “Herein is that which thou seek’st + But I charge thee solemnly + That thou lettest not thine eyes + Behold what is therein, + Till thou shalt have reached thy home.” + So he thanked the Lord, and left. + + Yet he was not far away + Ere he longed to open the gift, + And test the medicine, + And still more the Master’s truth. + And so he said to himself: + “If this be all deceit, + It was very shrewdly planned, + To bid me not open it + Until I should be at home. + Tush! If the medicine + Is really what I required + It cannot lose its power. + In truth I will test it now.” + So he opened it--when lo! + All that which was therein + Fell to the ground and spread + As water, everywhere, + And then like a summer mist + As quickly melted away. + So when he returned to his home + He was mocked by one and all. + + +FOOTNOTES: + +[20] This is a story about Kulóskap of long ago. + + + + + IV + + THE THREE BROTHERS WHO BECAME TREES + + [_Passamaquoddy and Micmac_] + + _Nequt nikt nsapihioak udelabasinia unachihonamihánia + Kelhosilichil naga omsnamnia eli-bawatmotit uch negum._[21] + + + There were three brothers, who + Had made the pilgrimage + To seek the Lord of Life, + And win their wishes. One + Was wondrous great and tall, + The tallest in the land; + Of this he was right proud, + For he was one of those + Who slyly put soft clay + Into their moccasins + That they may be admired + By folk of lesser size, + And win the love of squaws. + And his hair was plastered up + To stand on high, and on + The summit of it was + A very long turkey tail; + But what this man desired + Was to be taller still. + The second brother asked + That he might ever live + Where he might behold the land + And all the beauty of it, + And do naught else save rest + In peace forever more. + And the third one asked to live + Unto a great old age, + And ever be in health + Till he should pass away. + + Now when they came to the isle + They found three lodges there, + And in two of them were men + Who are not spoken of + In any of the tales + Which I have ever heard: + In one dwelt Kulpujot-- + A wondrous one indeed! + For there is not a bone in him, + Yet every spring and autumn + He is “rolled over with hand-spikes” + By order of the Lord; + And this is what his name + Means in the Micmac tongue. + In the autumn he is turned + Over towards the West, + But in spring towards the East; + And the meaning of it all + Is the seasons of the year + As they follow in their course. + + He with his breath alone + Can sweep all armies forth, + And with his looks alone + Perform most wondrous things; + This means what weather can do + With sunshine, frost and ice, + Which are felt in everything. + + And in the other dwelt + Kuhkw, which in Micmac means, + The Earthquake. This great man + Can pass beneath the ground, + And make the mountains shake, + And tremble by his power. + + Now when the Lord had heard + What it was that they desired, + He bade the Earthquake come + And put them with their feet + Fast planted in the ground. + And when ’twas done, the three + At once were turned to trees; + To pines, as one tale tells, + Or cedars, as some say; + In either case each man + Received what he required. + + Thus, he who would be tall + Became exceeding great, + For his head rose o’er the wood + Even as a giant pine; + Nor was the top-feather forgotten; + It waves in the wind to this hour. + And on a summer day + Who listens in a pine wood, + May hear the trees a murmuring + In the soft Indian tongue + All of the olden time: + (“_Î nĭl etuchi nek mʾkilaskîtap + Î nĭl etuchi nek mʾkiluskíjin_”) + “Oh, I’m such a great man! + Oh, I’m such a big Indian!” + + And the second brother, who wished + To remain in peace in the land, + So stays, for while his roots + Are in the ground he _must_ do so; + And the third, who fain would live + To the end in perfect health, + Unless they’ve cut him down + Is standing as of yore. + +[Illustration] + + +FOOTNOTES: + +[21] Once there were three brothers who went to see the Lord of Life +and get their wishes from him. + + + + + V + + KULÓSKAP AND THE WISE WISHERS + + [_Micmac_] + + _Kes saak; kes saak._[22] + + + All of the olden time. + Now when ’twas noised abroad + That whoever sought the Master + Could obtain the wish of his heart, + There were three men who said: + “Let us seek the Lord and see + If this be truly so.” + So they left their home in the spring + When the bluebird began his song, + And walked till the autumn frosts, + And then into the winter, + Ever steadily onward + Till the next midsummer came; + And being in a forest + They found a winding path + Which they followed till they came + To a very beautiful river + Which led to a great fair lake; + And still they kept to the path, + Yet where it failed, the trees + Were blazed, or the bark removed + On the side of the trunk, but ever + Opposite to the place + Where the wigwam or village lies + Towards which the pathway leads, + So the mark can aye be seen + As the traveller goes to the goal, + But not while leaving it. + + Then after a time they came + To a long point of land + Which ran into the lake, + Where, having climbed a hill, + They saw in the distance smoke; + Guided by this they came + To a large and beautiful hut; + And entering it they found, + Seated upon the right, + A handsome stately man + Like a chief of middle age, + And on the left a woman, + So old and so decrepit + That it seemed as if a century + Or more had made her life; + And opposite the door + Was a mat which seemed to show + That some other had there a place. + + And the Master made them welcome + And spoke as if he were + Well pleased to see them there, + But asked not whence they came, + Or whither they were going, + As others are wont to do. + + Ere long they heard the sound + As of a paddle outside, + And the noise of a canoe + When it is drawn ashore. + + Then in there came a youth + Of beautiful form and features, + Well clad and bearing weapons + As if returned from the chase; + Who addressed the woman _Kejû!_ + Which is in the Micmac, “Mother;” + And told her he had game. + So then, with sore ado, + For she was very weak, + The old dame tottered out + And brought in one by one + Four beavers; but she had + Such trouble to cut them up, + That the elder of the pilgrims + Said to the youngest, “_Nchígŭnŭm!_ + My brother--do thou the work.” + + And so they supped on beaver, + And then they stayed for a week, + Resting themselves in comfort, + For all were sadly worn, + And also utterly ragged; + But then there came to pass + A wonderful thing which showed + That they were in fairy land, + For the master said to the youth, + “Go wash the mother’s face!” + He did so--when all her wrinkles + Vanished, and she became + Very young and fair: + The travellers had never + In all their lives beheld + A maid so beautiful: + Her hair, once white and scanty, + Now hung to her very feet, + It was as dark and glossy + As any blackbird’s breast; + And, clad in fine array, + She showed a tall lithe form, + Graceful, in all points perfect. + + Then the travellers said to themselves, + “Truly this Sagamore is + A very great magician.” + With him they all walked forth + To see the place where he dwelt, + They never had felt the sunshine + So soft and so sweetly tempered + By a cooling gentle breeze; + For all in that land was fair, + And day by day grew fairer + To all who dwelt therein: + Tall trees, with richest leafage + And many fragrant flowers, + Grew everywhere in groves + Without any lower limbs, + And clear of underbrush, + Wide as a forest; yet + The eye could pierce the distance + In any or every way. + + Now when for the first time + They felt that they had come + Into another life, + An ever-enchanted land, + The Master gently questioned + And asked them whence they came, + And what it was they sought; + They said they sought Kulóskap, + And he answered, “I am he!” + + Then they were awed by his presence, + For now a wondrous glory + And majesty showed in him. + For as the woman had changed, + So he, and he seemed divine. + + Then the elder pilgrim said: + “Lo, I am a wicked man + Accursed with furious moods, + Given to wrath and reviling; + Yet I would fain be gentle, + Pious and meek and good.” + + And the second said: “I am poor, + My life is very hard, + And, though I toil unceasing, + I can barely make a living, + And I would fain be rich.” + + And the third replied, “Though proud, + I am of low estate, + Being despised and scorned, + While I long to be respected + And loved by every one.” + + And to all of these the Master + Made answer, “So shall it be!” + + Then, taking from his belt + His powerful _upsinai_, + That is his medicine-bag, + He gave unto each Indian + A little box and bade him + Keep it well closed, nor heed it + Till he should reach his home. + Then he led them to the wigwam + And gave them all new garments, + Exceedingly rich apparel, + The like of which the pilgrims + Had never seen before. + + Then, when it was time to depart, + Since they knew not the way + Unto their home, he rose + And went with them for a distance. + A year had they been in coming, + But having put on his belt + He led them and they followed, + Till, ere the afternoon, + He took them to the top + Of a lofty mountain, from which + Afar off they beheld + Another, whose outline blue + Rose lofty o’er the plain. + Yet it seemed so far away + They thought ’twould be a week + Ere they should gain its top, + But the Master led them on, + And in the afternoon + Of the day when they first beheld it, + Lo, they were on the summit! + And looking from this afar, + All seemed familiar to them: + The plains and hills and river, + And wood and dale and valley-- + It was their native land! + “And there,” said the Master to them + “There lies your village home.” + + So he left them on the mountain, + And they went on their way. + Before the sun had set + They were among their people, + Each by his wigwam fire; + At first sight no one knew them, + Because of a wondrous change; + The like of their fair attire + Had never in those days + Been seen by any man. + But when they made themselves known, + All gathered round to behold them, + In wonder or silent awe, + Or to listen to their adventures, + And truly all were amazed. + + Then each man opened his box, + And found therein an unguent + Exceedingly rich and fragrant, + With which they rubbed themselves + From head to foot completely. + And always from that day + The three smelt so divinely + That all who could draw near them + Were ever in delight; + And happy were the Indians + Who could get a single whiff + Of that celestial fragrance + Spread by them all around! + + Now he who had been despised + For his deformity, + Leanness, weakness, and meanness, + Became as grand and stately, + As beautiful and graceful, + As the fairest pine of the forest; + There was in all the land + No man so much admired, + And his people were proud of him. + + He who desired abundance, + Had it in fullest measure, + The wild deer came to his arrows, + The fish leaped into his nets; + As he gave freely to all, + All gave as freely to him. + + And he who had been wicked, + Hasty and wild and cruel, + Became as meek and gentle, + Calm and ever forbearing + Making others like himself; + He had ever a blessing on him, + As there ever is upon those + Who make their wishes with wisdom, + For such folk shall be happy + Unto the end of their days. + + +FOOTNOTES: + +[22] Long ago; long ago. + + + + + VI + + HOW KULÓSKAP WAS CONQUERED BY THE BABE + + [_Penobscot_] + + _Yut nit nekani agnodʾmâgon uch Kulóskap + Elakʾnotmotits piʾche._[23] + + + All of the olden time. + They tell this tale + Of great Kulóskap. He had conquered all + Of his worst enemies, even the Kiwaʾkw + Who were ice-giant ghouls, and over them, + Mʾdeolinʾwak or sorcerers + And Pʾmûla the night air’s evil spirit, + And every manner of uncanny ghosts, + Grim witches, devils, goblins, cannibals, + And the dark demons of the forest shade. + And now he paused, and, thinking o’er his deeds, + Long wondered if his work was at an end. + + This thought unto a certain wife he told-- + A clever woman with a ready tongue-- + And she replied: “O Master--not so fast! + For One there still remains whom no man yet + Has ever overcome in any strife + Or got the better of in any way; + And who will ever, as I oft have heard, + Remain unconquered to the end of time.” + “And who is he?” inquired the Lord, amazed. + + “It is the mighty Waʾsis,” she replied: + “And there he sits before you on the floor! + And mark my words--if you do trouble him, + He’ll cause you greater trouble in the end!” + + Now Waʾsis was the Baby. And he sat + Upon the floor, in baby peace profound + Sucking a piece of maple sugar sweet; + Greatly content and troubling nobody. + + Now as the mighty Lord of Men and Beasts + Had never married, nor had had a child, + The art of nursing or of managing + Such little ones was all unknown to him; + And therefore he was sure, as all such folk + Invariably are, be they or maids + Or blooming bachelors, that he at least + Knew all about it and would have his way, + And make the young obey him. So the Lord + Turned to the babe with a bewitching smile, + And bade the little creature come to him; + Back smiled the baby, but it did not budge. + + And then the Master spoke in sweeter tone, + Making his voice like that of summer birds, + And all to no avail; for Waʾsis sat, + And, sucking at his sugar silently, + Looked at Kulóskap with untroubled eyes. + + So then the Lord as in great anger frowned + And ordered Waʾsis in an awful voice + To crawl to him at once. And baby burst + Into wild tears, and high he raised his voice + Unto a squall tremendous--yet for all + Did never move an inch from where he sat. + + Then, since he could do only one thing more, + The Master had recourse to sorcery + And used the awful spells, and sang the songs + Which raise the dead and scare the devils wild + And send the witches howling to their graves, + And make the forest pines bend low to earth. + And Waʾsis looked at him admiringly + And seemed to find it interesting, quite; + Yet, peacefully as ever kept his place. + + So, in despair, Kulóskap gave it up, + And Waʾsis, ever sitting on the floor + In the warm sunshine, went “Goo! goo!” and crowed; + That was his infant crow of victory. + + Now to this very day, whene’er you see + A baby well contented, crying “Goo!” + Or crowing in this style, know that it is + Because he then remembers in great joy + How he in strife, all in the olden time, + Did overcome the Master, conqueror + Of all the world. For that, of creatures all, + Or beings which on earth have ever been + Since the beginning, Baby is alone + The never yielding and invincible. L. + + +FOOTNOTES: + +[23] This is an old story of Kulóskap. They told it long ago. + + + + + =Canto Third= + + THE MASTER AND THE ANIMALS + + + + + I + + KULÓSKAP AND THE LOONS + + [_Micmac and Passamaquoddy_] + + _Kulóskap umimat netinniaspʾnil + Winpeul kʾchi mteolinul._[24] + + + While the Master was pursuing + Winpe the giant magician, + One day at Uktukâmkw + He saw afar in the distance + Over the silent water, + Far away in the sunset, + Kwîmûŭk (the Loons) a-flying. + Thence did their chief in a circle + Lead them around the lake; + Yet ever drawing nearer + To the Home of Beasts and Men; + And as he came, the Master + Said: “What is thy will, O Kwîmû?” + +[Illustration: =Kulóskap and the Loons=] + + To whom the Loon replied + “I fain would be thy servant, + Thy servant and thy friend.” + Then the Master taught them a cry, + A strange long cry like the howl + Of a dog when he calls to the moon, + Or when, far away in the forest, + He seeks to find his master; + And told them when they required him + To utter this long strange cry. + + Now it came to pass long after + The Master in Uktâkŭmkûk + (The which is Newfoundland) + Came to an Indian village + And all who dwelt therein + Were Kwîmûŭk, who had been + Loons in the time before; + And now they were very glad + As men to see once more + The Master who had blessed them + When they were only birds; + Therefore he made them his huntsmen, + Also his messengers; + Hence comes that in all the stories + Which are told of the mighty Master + The Loons are ever his friends; + And the Indians when they hear + The cry of the Loons, exclaim: + “_Kwîmû elkomtûejul + Kulóskapŭl_,” “The Loon is calling + Kulóskap,” the Master. + + +FOOTNOTES: + +[24] Kulóskap used to fight with Winpe the great wizard. + + + + + II + + KULÓSKAP AND THE BEAVER + + [_Micmac_] + + _Kulóskap naga Kwâbît._[25] + + + Over all the land + Of the Wabanaki, + The Land of the Break of Day, + There is never a place + Where the hand of Kulóskap + Made not a mark. + It is seen on hills and rivers, + On the great roads through mountains, + As well as on mighty rocks + Which once were living monsters. + + Such is the wonderful highway + Running along the river + Called Herbert--the road which is named + By white men the Boar’s Back, + By Indians Onwokun, + Which is their word for Causeway. + + The tale is told of Kulóskap + That, once while travelling + To visit Partridge Island + And then Cape Blomidon, + His friends were tired of rowing, + Tired of travel by water, + And wished to cross by land; + And, while they all were resting, + The Master, raising his magic + Unto a mighty deed + To be spoken of forever, + Went away for a little time + And cast up a giant ridge, + A wide and beautiful level + Over great bogs and streams, + And across this they travelled + Rejoicing, to await him. + + And yet again the Master + Did a very wondrous deed; + For it came to pass in those days + That the beavers had built a dam + From Âûkogegéchk or Blomidon, + Even unto the opposite shore, + And thereby made a pond + Which filled up all the valley. + Now in those times the beavers + Were beasts of monstrous size, + And the Master, though kind of heart, + Seems to have had indeed + But little love for them + Since the day when young Kwâbîtsis, + The son of the Great Beaver, + Tempted Malsum to slay his brother + In the very early time. + Now to this very day + They find the bones of these beavers; + There are many on Unamagik, + Their teeth are six inches wide, + There are no such beavers to-day! + And these are indeed the bones + Of the beavers who built the dam + Across at Cape Blomidon + And crossed the Annapolis Valley. + + Now the Master would fain go hunting, + And thereby do a deed + Which should equal the great whale-fishing + Of Kitpûsiigʾnâû. + + So he cut the great dam near the shore, + And he bade the boy Marten watch; + For he said, “I greatly suspect + That there is a little beaver + Who is hiding hereabouts.” + And when the dam was cut + From where it joined the shore, + There was a mighty rush, + And the roar of many waters, + So that the beaver dam, + Which was made of giant trees + Deftly fastened together, + Swung full around to the westward; + And yet it did not break + Away from the other shore. + Therefore the end of it lodged + With a great split therein + When the flood had found a passage; + And the whole may be seen there still, + To this very day, even, + As it is seen by all + Of those who pass up the bay; + And still this point, Cape Split, + Is called by the Micmacs Plîgun + Which means the opening + Or cleft of a beaver dam. + + Then to frighten the Beaver + The Master threw at it + Several handfuls of earth, + Which falling to eastward + Of what is called Partridge Island, + Became the Five Islands, and + The pond which was left behind + Became the Basin of Minas. + + Yet another tradition tells + That after cutting the dam + The Master sat and watched, + And yet no Beaver came forth, + For Kwâbît had escaped by a hole + Which led back to the other side; + Kulóskap then tore up + A rock and he threw it + Very far indeed, + One hundred and fifty miles, + To frighten the Beaver back; + But over the Grand Falls + Kwâbît had gone in haste + And so for the time escaped; + Yet the stone remaineth there + As a wonder to this day. + + However, others declare + That by this rock the Beaver + Was killed while swimming away; + For thus the tale was told + By a Penobscot woman + As she sat weaving a basket, + A basket or _abaznoda_ + Of that sweet-scented grass + Which Indians dearly love. + + Kulóskap gave the names + To everything on earth; + He first made man and woman + Bestowing on them life; + He also made the winds + To make the waters move; + The Turtle was his uncle, + Tiakēūch the Mink + Was his adopted son, + While Mūnŭmkwech, the Woodchuck-- + She was his grandmother. + The Beaver built a dam + The greatest ever seen. + +[Illustration: =Kulóskap and the Beaver=] + + Kulóskap turned it away, + And killed the Beaver, too; + At Mûschik he killed a moose; + The bones are there e’en now, + At Bar Harbor, turned to stone. + The entrails of the moose, + Across the bay he cast + Unto his dogs, and they, + Which were also turned to stone, + To this day may be seen there, + As I have seen them myself; + And there, too, in the rock + Are the prints of his arrow and bow. + + +FOOTNOTES: + +[25] Kulóskap and the Beaver. + + + + + III + + THE SABLE AND THE SERPENT + + [_Passamaquoddy_] + + _Kulóskap wtiwaspʾnil nequt + Otloketmul nʾmokswesul._[26] + + + All of the olden time, + All in a year it befell + That Kulóskap had a foe: + A very evil man, + A very sinful beast, + A very vile magician, + Who after he had tried + A hundred tricks in vain + Took on the form of a snake, + A serpent of awful size, + In hope to kill the Lord. + + Now the Master had a boy + His faithful servitor, + Nʾmokswes or the Sable; + A boy of elfin kind + Who played the magic flute + Wherewith he could entice + All birds and animals + To come to him, when they + Once heard its wondrous sound. + + It happened on a time + When Kulóskap was afar, + The Sable broke his flute, + And, deeply crushed with grief, + Would not return again, + But wandered far away + Into the wilderness. + And all of this the Lord + Knew well--for by his art + He knew when aught went wrong + Pertaining to himself. + Then, when returned, he asked + The old, old grandmother + Where Sable was? but she + Could only weep. And then, + The Master said: “I’ll roam + Forever if I must, + But I will find the boy.” + + So he went forth, resolved, + Following Sable’s trail, + And tracked him through the snow, + Three days and nights, and then + Heard some one sing afar; + It was the magic song + Which sorcerers only sing + When in the direst need, + And death is drawing near. + So, circling round the place, + Kulóskap looked adown, + And saw a lodge, and heard + The voice distinctly sound, + As he grew nearer; it + Was Sable’s wondrous voice; + Then heard him sing a curse + Against all serpent kind, + And he was wandering + About the place to seek + A stick, extremely straight. + + The Master understood + What this all meant: how that + Sable had been enticed + Into the wilderness + By Atoʾsis the Snake, + And that the Serpent-chief + Was in the lodge, and he + Had sent the Sable forth + To seek a long straight rod + For evil magic deeds. + Then, softly singing, he + Bade Sable disobey, + And get a crooked stick, + As twisted as could be, + And told him carefully + What more he was to do. + + Then Sable found in fact + A very rugged rod, + As twisted as a worm, + When it is wounded; then + As he came in, the Snake + Cried out, amazed and wroth, + “How hast thou dared to bring + To me a stick like that?” + But Sable, answering, + Replied, “It is not straight, + But what is crookedest + May be the straightest made, + And I do know a charm + Whereby this may be done; + I will but heat this stick + A little in the fire, + And sing the proper spell + And then it shall be straight.” + + Now Atoʾsis the Snake, + Like all the crafty folk, + Was very curious + And so looked closely on. + But Sable, when the stick + Was burning, or red hot, + Thrust it into his eyes; + (It had a forked end) + Utterly blinding him; + Then headlong rushed away. + + The serpent followed him, + But, even as he left + The wigwam, there he met + The Master, who forthwith + Struck him a mighty blow + And slew him out of hand; + Of old times this befell-- + And thus my story ends. + +[Illustration: =The Sable and the Serpent=] + + +FOOTNOTES: + +[26] Kulóskap had a servant once who was a Sable. + + + + + [Illustration] + + IV + + KULÓSKAP AND THE TURTLE + + [_Micmac and Passamaquoddy_] + + _Nekke meiawet nektuk Piliomeskasik ktakʾmigw otlian Pikto._[27] + + + When the Master left _Uktâkumkûk_, + Called by the English Néwfoundlánd, + He went to Piktook or Pictou, + Which means “the rising of bubbles,” + Because at that place the water + Is ever strangely moving. + There he found an Indian village + And in the village a man + Whom he loved through all his life. + + Yet it was not because this man, + Whose name in Micmac is Mikchik + And in our Passamaquoddy + Chikwenóchk “the Turtle,” + Was great or well favored or rich; + He was truly none of these, + Being very poor and lazy, + No longer young or lively, + Nor in any way clever or wise. + It is said he was the uncle + Of Kulóskap, but many declare + It was only by adoption.[28] + However, he always bore + His trials with such good nature, + His wants with such merry patience, + That the Master took strangely to him + With most unwonted affection, + As if he had determined + To make of the idler a man; + Which verily came to pass + Quite soon, and very quaintly, + As you shall presently hear. + When he came to Piktook, + A town of a hundred wigwams, + Kulóskap being a handsome + And very stately warrior + With the air of a great chief, + Was greatly admired by all, + Especially the women; + So that every one felt honored + Whose wigwam he deigned to enter; + Yet he saw the folk very seldom, + And dwelt with old uncle Mikchik + Delighting in his fancies, + Quaint ways and old time stories, + Very old songs of the fathers; + Such things were the joy of his heart. + + Now ’twas the time for holding + The great and yearly feast + With dancing and merry games; + But Kulóskap cared not to go + As guest or as performer. + However, he asked his uncle, + “Wilt thou not go to the feast? + All the fair girls of the forest, + All the beautiful matrons, + All the bewitching widows + From far and wide will be there; + Why hast thou never married? + There are many nice women a-waiting, + ’Tis evil living alone.” + + Thus answered Uncle Turtle: + “I am poor and old and homely, + With no garments fit for a feast; + Therefore ’tis better for me + To smoke my pipe at home.” + + “Well, if that be the only hindrance, + Uncle,” replied the Master, + “I can turn tailor I trow, + And fit you to a turn-- + Fit you as if by magic, + Or in fact by magic itself; + Therefore have thou no care + As to your face or outside, + For to him who hath the art + ’Tis as easy to make a man over + As any suit of clothes.” + + “That may be true, my nephew,” + Quoth Turtle, “but what say you, + As to the making over + The _inside_ of a mortal?” + + “By Kwâbît the immortal Beaver!” + Replied the Master, laughing, + “That is something harder to do, + Else I were not at work + So long in this world of ours. + Yet, ere I leave this town + For you I will do that also. + As for this present sport, + Do but put on this belt.” + + And when he wore the girdle + Mikchik became so young + And so bewitchingly handsome + That never a man or woman + In the land had seen the like; + And as the Master arrayed him + In garments of great splendor, + He also gave him his word + That, as a man, he ever + Should be of men the comeliest, + And as animal, hardest to kill, + Most vital and enduring, + As it truly came to pass. + So Mikchik went to the feast. + + Now the chieftain of the Piktook + Had three very beautiful daughters, + And of the three, the youngest + Was the loveliest in the land. + On her the old-young turtle + Cast his experienced eyes + With a boy-like, innocent look, + And said, “I think that damsel + Would exactly suit my complaint, + And therefore I think I will take her!” + + Now all the young men in Piktook + Were of just the same opinion, + And all were firmly resolved + To kill the one who should win her. + + So the next day the Master, + Taking a bunch of _wâbab_, + That is, of the finest wampum, + Went to the chief of the Piktook + Proposing that his uncle + Should marry the youngest daughter. + And truly the chief was willing, + While the mother at once cried, “Yes!” + To such a grand proposal; + So, without loss of time, + The maiden swept out a wigwam, + And made a bed of sprays, + Or of leaves, upon the floor, + Spreading out a great white bear skin + As a cover over all. + Then with Mikchik and the Master + They had dried meat for supper, + And so the pair were wed. + + Now the Turtle seemed very lazy, + And for days after they were married + While other men were hunting + He lounged about at home + Smoking over the fire, + Till one frosty, sunny morning, + His wife said to him, “Mikchik, + If this goes on much longer + We two must certainly starve.” + So he put on his snow-shoes, + Taking his bow and arrows, + And she followed silently after + To see what he would do. + But in truth he did very little, + For he had not gone far forward + Ere he tripped and fell rolling over. + And the wife, returning disgusted, + Said in a rage to her mother: + “He is not in the least a hunter. + He can’t even walk on snow-shoes.” + But the mother said: “Be patient, + There is more in him than you dream.” + + One day it came to pass + That the Master said to Mikchik + “To-morrow will be held + The very great yearly ball-play + And you must share in the game. + It will be sore for you, + A game of life and death, + For all the young men who live here + Are your enemies, and will seek + To slay you in the rush + By crowding close together, + And trampling you under foot. + But when they do this, ’twill be + Close by the Sagamore’s lodge, + And that you may escape them + I give you, Uncle, the power + To jump twice over the roof; + But if they chance to bring it + To a third attempt, ’twill be + A very terrible thing for you, + And yet it _must_ come to pass; + ‘No honey without a sting; + No chase, no venison.’” + + And all of it came to pass + As the Master had foretold; + For the young men of the village + All joined to kill the Turtle, + And to escape them, Mikchik + Jumped, when beset, so high + Over the Sagamore’s lodge + That he looked like an eagle flying. + But when for a third time he + Attempted another leap, + His scalp-lock caught on a pole, + And there he hung a-dangling + In the smoke which rose from below. + + Then Kulóskap, who was sitting + On a skin in the tent beneath, + Said: “Uncle the hour is come, + Now will I make thee Sagem, + Grand Sagamore of the Tortoise, + The chief of the Lenni Lenâbe; + Thou shalt bear up a great nation + Which shall rest upon thy shell!” + + Then he smoked Mikchik so long + That his skin became a shell, + A very hard round shell, + And the marks of the smoke from the pipe + May be seen thereon to-day. + And of all his entrails he left + But _one_ which was very short, + And then indeed Mikchik + Seeing himself so reduced + Cried out, “Beloved nephew, + You will kill me certainly!” + But the Lord replied, “Far from it, + I am giving you longer life-- + A longer life than is given + To any other on earth; + From this time forth, my uncle, + You may pass through a glowing fire, + And never feel its breath, + You may live on land or in water, + Nay, though your head be cut off + It will live for nine days after, + And even so long shall beat + Your heart when cut from your body.” + Whereat Mikchik rejoiced. + + And this came, indeed, betimes, + And not before it was needed; + For on the very next day + All of the men went hunting, + And the Master warned the Turtle + That they would attempt his life. + So the men all went before, + While the Turtle toiled slowly behind them; + But when they saw him no more, + He made a magic flight + Far over their heads, and deep + In the forest he slew a moose, + He drew it upon the track + Which he knew that they soon must take; + And when his foes came up, + There he sat on the moose + Smoking, and waiting for them. + + Now Kulóskap the Wise + Had unto them foretold + That on that day they would see + Some one come out as first + Who they thought would be last of all. + And when this came to pass, + They were more enraged than before, + And so they planned again + To kill Mikchik, but his nephew + Who was on the point of leaving + The village and all therein, + Told him how it would be. + + “First of all, my uncle, + They will build a mighty fire, + And throw you into the flame, + But endure it, and with joy; + For by my magic power + I will see that it does no harm. + Only beg as a dying favor + Not to be cast into water, + Into the water to drown, + Beg and implore and entreat them + To spare thee that terrible torture, + Yes, fight to the bitter end; + So will they certainly do it, + And so it shall come to pass.” + Then he bade farewell to the Turtle, + And they built up a blazing fire + And threw him at once into it; + Wherein, being very lazy, + He turned over and went to sleep, + And when the fire burned low + He called for more wood to rebuild it + Because it was bitterly cold. + + Then they all called out, “Let us drown him!” + But hearing this, as in terror + He implored them not to do it. + “Cut me to pieces,” he said, + “Burn me again, or stab me, + But do not, I beg you, throw me + Into the water to drown!” + + Therefore they swore they would drown him, + And dragged him down to the shore; + He screamed like a mad magician, + And fought like a wolverine, + Tearing up trees and roots, + Rending the rocks like a tempest; + Yet at length they overpowered him, + And took him in a canoe + To the middle of the lake + And throwing him in they watched him, + Watched him as he was sinking + Till he vanished far down below; + And thinking him surely dead + Returned to their homes rejoicing. + + Now on the next day at noon + There was a glowing sunshine, + And something was seen basking + Upon a great flat rock + About a mile from the shore. + So two of the younger men + Took a canoe and went forth + To see what this might be. + And when they came to the rock + Just hanging over the water, + Whom should they see but Mikchik + A-dozing in the sunlight! + But, seeing them coming to take him, + He only said “Good-bye!” + And rolled over into the lake + Wherein it is said he is living + Unto this very day. + So in memory of this thing, + All turtles in swamps or rivers + When they see a man a-coming + Tip-tilt them into the water + With a _plump!_ which means “Good-bye!”-- + Or which sounds like it in Indian[29]-- + As their ancestor did of yore. + + The Turtle lived with his wife + Happily, long and contented. + Then it happened in after years + That Kulóskap came one day + To visit his uncle, and saw + A babe which uttered a word. + As ’twere in a childish cry: + “Knowest thou what he is saying?” + Inquired the Master smiling. + “Truly not I,” said Mikchik, + “For I deem it is in the language + Which is spoken by the demons + Or spirits of the air, + Which ’tis said no mortal knoweth.” + “Well, I think,” replied Kulóskap, + “That he is talking of eggs + For he cries ‘_Huwâh, Huwâh_’ + As if he were trying to say + _Wâhwun_--which means an egg + In the Passamaquoddy tongue.” + “But where are eggs to be found?” + Inquired the uncle amazed. + “Seek in the sand,” said the Master, + Where he sought and found full many + And greatly he marvelled at them. + In memory of which and the Master, + All the female turtles + Lay eggs to this very day. L. + + +FOOTNOTES: + +[27] When the Master left Newfoundland he came to Pictou. + +[28] It is usual to give as a mere matter of politeness terms of +consanguinity to persons in conversation. Mikchik the Turtle appears +in all the legends as a perfect Panurge or Falstaff, a worthless old +scamp, who is nevertheless liked by everybody and privileged. P. + +[29] It is curious that in Italy a stone thrown into water is +supposed by the sound which it makes to answer Yes or No to questions. + + + + + V + + HOW MIKCHIK THE TURTLE WAS FALSE TO THE MASTER + + [_Passamaquoddy_] + + _Kulóskap meiawet._[30] + + + Kulóskap the Master + Was lord of beasts and men + Even the one as the other + He ruled them one and all. + Great indeed was his army + His tribe indeed was the whole. + In it the Golden Eagle + Was a leading chief who married + A female Caribou; + And the Turtle, Kulóskap’s uncle, + Married the only daughter + Of the Eagle and Caribou. + Of these things are many traditions, + Many and very long, + Which are told by the fire in winter; + Old people knew these stories, + The younger now forget them + And the wisdom in them all. + + It is said that Mikchik the Turtle + Was ever loved by his nephew, + While another tradition tells + That he was false to the Master: + I know not how it may be, + I can only tell the story + As it was told to me. + + When the Turtle married, + The Master bade him make + A splendid feast, and for this + He gave him wonderful power. + Then he bade him go down to a point + Of very great rocks by the sea + Where whales were always found, + And told him to bring a whale, + And gave him the might to do so. + But he set an appointed mark + Or space, and said that he must not + Go even an inch beyond it: + So the Turtle went down to the sea, + And caught a monstrous whale, + And bore it up to the camp; + It all seemed very easy, + But he quite forgot that the power + Was given him by the Master; + So he took it all as his own. + + Like all men of his kind + He was very vain and curious. + So to see what would come of it + He went beyond the mark + While carrying the whale, + And doing this he lost + The strength on him bestowed; + And sank beneath his burden + Crushed by the mighty whale. + + Then many ran to the Master + Saying that Turtle was dead, + But he answered “Cut up the whale + For the dead will soon revive.” + So they cut it up and cooked it; + And when the feast was ready, + The Turtle came yawning on, + And stretching out his leg + Cried out: “How tired I am! + Truly, I think I must + Have overslept myself!” + Then all men feared the Lord, + For now they knew him a spirit, + A spirit of terrible power. + + However it came to pass + That the Turtle grew mightily + All in his own conceit, + And thought he could take the place + Of the Master and reign in his stead; + So he called together a council + Of all the beasts, to find + How Kulóskap might be slain. + Greatly the Great One laughed + When he had learned all this + And little did he care. + + And knowing all that passed + In their evil hearts, he went + Disguised as an agèd squaw + Into the Council Lodge. + There were two witches there, + The Porcupine and Toad, + Bearing the human form; + Of them he humbly asked + How the Master was to die, + And to him the Toad replied, + “Well! What is that to thee? + And what hast thou to do + With such a thing as this?” + “Truly I meant no harm,” + Was all the Master said. + And then he softly touched + The tip of either’s nose. + And rising, went his way. + But when the witches looked + At one another--both + Screamed out in dire dismay + For neither had a nose! + Their faces were smooth and flat; + So it came that the Porcupine + And Toad, are to this day + Noseless among the beasts. + So the Council came to an end. L. + + +FOOTNOTES: + +[30] Kulóskap the Master. + + + + +[Illustration] + + VI + + HOW KULÓSKAP CONQUERED AKLIBIMO, THE GREAT BULLFROG + + [_Passamaquoddy_] + + _Piʾchce uskichinwi otenesis + Pakichiotote pemtanikek._[31] + + + Long, long ago, + Far, far away in the mountains + An Indian village stood, + Little known to other men; + All lived therein at their ease, + The men did well in their hunting + The women worked at home, + And all went well--save in _one_ thing + And that one thing was this: + That the town lay by a brook + And except in the stream there was not + A single drop of water + In all the country round + Save in the puddles of rain. + No one of all these Indians + Had ever found a spring, + Yet they all were very fond + Of a drink of good, clear water + And that in their brook was good. + So over it they grew dainty + And were very proud of it. + + But after a time they saw + That the brook was running low, + Not only in summer time, + But in autumn after the rains; + And as the water fell + Their spirits, too, sank low; + But day by day it grew less, + Until its bed was as dry + As a dead bone is, which lies + In the ashes of a fire. + + Now they had sometime heard + That, far away in the hills + Where none of them had been, + There was another village + Upon this very stream; + But what kind of people dwelt + Therein, no one could say; + So, thinking that these folk + Knew something about the drought, + They sent a man to look + Into the thing. Three days + Onward and upward he went, + Till on the third he came + Unto the village where + He found a solid dam + Built over the rivulet + So that no water could pass, + But all was kept in a pond. + + Then, asking the village folk + Why they had done this evil, + Since ’twas of no use to them, + They said: “Go ask our chief, + It was he who ordered it.” + + And when the messenger came + To see the Sagamore, + Behold, there lay before him, + Lazily in the mud, + A creature who was more + Of monster than of man-- + Though truly in human form-- + For he was immense in size, + In measure like a giant, + Fat, bloated, at all points + Most brutal to behold; + His great, round, yellow eyes + Stuck from his head as knots + Or knobsticks from a pine. + His mouth with stringy lips + Went well from ear to ear; + His feet were broad and flat, + With toes immensely long-- + He was marvellous to behold! + + And unto him the man + Set forth his just complaint, + To which the brute at first + Made no reply beyond + A most uncivil grunt + And a croak, but he said at last + In a loud, bellowing voice, + Such as we sometimes hear + At night from pond or pool: + “Do as you choose, + “Do as you choose, + “Do as you choose! + “What do I care? + “What do I care? + “What do I care? + “If you want water, + “If you want water, + “If you want water, + “Go somewhere else.” + + Then the messenger told + How his people were pining + Near dead of their thirst, + Which seemed hugely to please + The monster, who grinned for joy, + Till at last he rose to his feet. + And, making a single spring + Of many rods to the dam, + Took an arrow and bored a hole + So that a little water + Just trickled out, and then cried: + “Up and begone, + “Up and begone, + “Up and begone!” + Then the messenger returned + In sorrow to his people, + Bringing them little joy, + And for a very few days + There was a little water, + Then it stopped and they suffered again. + + Now these good Indians, who + Were the honestest fellows alive, + Best natured in all the world, + And never harmed any one + Except their enemies, + Were in a pickle indeed; + For sad it is to have + Nothing but water to drink; + But to want even that + When one is raging with thirst + Is worse than waiting for dinner + When we have no dinner to wait for. + Now this the Lord Kulóskap, + Who was merciful in heart + And knew all that was passing + In the hearts of his Indian children, + Observed, and pitying them + Came to them all at once; + For he ever came as the wind + And no man e’er wist how. + + Now, just before he came, + These honest Indians + Had in a council resolved + To send their boldest man + Though ’twere to certain death, + Even unto the village + Where dwelt the evil chief + Who built the cursèd dam + Which kept the water with which + They slaked their thirst when they + Could get it--that is to say, + Whenever the water was running. + And when he got there, the brave + Was either to obtain + That the water-dam be cut, + Or, failing, do something desperate-- + They knew not exactly what; + But it was expected by all + That if he were refused + He would paint the village with care + Of a deep vermilion hue, + Leaving on every lodge + Blood, and in this intent, + Should, armed at every point, + Go with his tomahawk, + His axe and scalping-knife + Singing his death-song, too, + As he went on his way; + And they were all agog. + + Now the Master was greatly pleased + When he observed all this, + For nothing delighted him more + Than plucky, desperate deeds; + So he resolved that he + Would see to this thing himself. + + Therefore he came to them-- + The people of the town + Which was then so high and dry-- + Looking so terribly fierce + That in all the land there was none + Who was half so horrible; + For he seemed to be ten feet high, + With a hundred wonderful plumes, + Feathers of red and black, + From his scalp-lock uprising; + His face fresh-painted like blood, + Green rings around his eyes, + While a very large clam-shell hung + From either ear, and behind, + A great spread eagle, which + Was awful to behold, + Flapped wings at every step; + So that the hearts of all + Beat as he entered the village, + For as simple Indians, they + Accounted that this must be + Either Lox, the Wolverine, + Or Michihant the Devil + Himself in person, who + Had turned to Indian form. + And the squaws declared that they + Had ne’er seen aught so fine, + Such a lovely, lovable man! + + Then the Master having heard + The whole of their terrible tale, + Bade them cheer up, for he + Would soon set all to rights. + So without delay he went + Straight up the bed of the brook, + And coming to the town + Sat down, and bade a boy + Bring him some water to drink; + To which the boy replied + That not a drop could be had + In that town unless ’twere given + Out by the chief himself. + + “Then go to your Sagamore,” + Said the Master, “and bid him hurry, + Or verily I will know + The reason why I wait.” + And when the boy had gone + There was no reply before + An hour, when the boy returned, + During which time the Master + Sat on a log and smoked. + Then at last the messenger + Came with a little cup + Which was only just half full + Of water, extremely foul. + Then the Master rose and said: + “Now I will go to your chief, + And I think that he soon will give + Far better water than this!” + + And having come to the chief + He said, “Now give me to drink + And that of the best, at once, + Thou villainous Thing of Mud!” + + Then the Sagamore in a rage + Bellowed: “Begone and find + Thy water where thou canst;” + When Kulóskap thrust his spear + At once into the beast, + Into his belly, lo! + Gushed forth a mighty stream, + For it was all the water + Which should have run in the brook-- + He had taken it all to himself! + + Then the Master, rising high + As any giant pine, + Caught the monster in his hand, + And crumpled in his back + With a mighty grip--and lo! + It was the Bull-Frog! Then + He hurled him with contempt + Into the stream to follow + The current ever on. + + And ever since that time + The Bull-Frog’s back has borne + Those crumpled wrinkles which + Are in the lower part: + These are the print-marks made + By the Master’s awful squeeze. + + Kulóskap then returned + Unto the town, but there + Found not a living soul, + For a marvellous thing had come + To pass while he was gone; + A thing which shall be heard + In every Indian’s speech + Through all the ages, as + ’Tis told by all to-day. + + For as these people were, + As I said, good simple folk, + They had talked together, just + As boys do at their play, + When they are hungry, thus: + “What would you like to have?” + When another will reply: + “Truly, I’d like to eat + A good hot venison steak, + With maple sugar and bear’s oil;” + “Nay, give me for my part + Some succotash and honey.” + Even so these villagers said: + “Suppose you really had + All the cold sparkling water + There is in the world, what then + Would you do with it?” One replied, + “I would live in the soft smooth mud, + And always be wet and cool.” + + To which another said, + That he would plunge from the rocks + And dive in the deep cold stream, + Aye drinking as he dived. + + And the third said: “I would be washed + Up and down with the rippling waves, + Living at will on land, + Or in the water;” Then + The fourth said: “None of you + Know how to wish, and I + Will teach you how. I’d live + In water all the time. + And forever swim in it!” + + Now it chanced that these things were said + In the hour when, while it passes + Over the world, all the wishes + Which are uttered by men are granted. + And so it was with these Indians; + For the first became a leech, + The second a spotted frog, + The third a crab which is washed + Up and down with the tide, + And the fourth a fish which swims + A-drinking ever more. + + Ere this, there had been in the world + None of the creatures which dwell + In the water, but now they were there + Of every kind. And the river + Came rushing and roaring on, + And they all went headlong down + Into the endless ocean, + To be washed into many lands, + And places all over the world, + Forever and ever more. + + +FOOTNOTES: + +[31] Long ago, an Indian village stood far back in the mountains. + + + + + VII + + HOW KULÓSKAP WENT WHALE-FISHING + + [_Micmac_] + + _Piche Kulóskap pechian + Machieswi menikok._[32] + + + All of the olden time! + The Master Kulóskap came + To Pulowechē Munígû, + That is to Partridge Island. + And on the isle he met + With Kitpûsâgunâû, + Whose mother had been slain + By a fearful cannibal giant: + Therefore, like Kulóskap, + He warred through all his life + Upon the monstrous race; + From which it came to pass + That they were loving friends, + Which did not hinder them + From a hearty, merry strife + In which they barely missed + Taking each other’s lives + In the most good-natured way + As ye shall hear anon. + + Now being on the isle, + The Lord of Men and Beasts + Was entertained as guest + By Kitpûsâgunâû, + Born after his mother’s death. + And, as the night came on, + The host said to the Lord. + “Let us go forth to sea + In my canoe, and catch + Some whales by torch light.” So + Kulóskap, nothing loath, + Consented, for he was + A mighty fisherman, + Like all the Wabanaki + Who live along the shore. + + Now when they came to the beach + There were many mighty rocks + Lying scattered here and there. + Then Kitpûsâgunâû, + Lifting the largest of them, + Put it upon his head, + And it became a canoe. + Then picking up another + It turned to a paddle; next + A long and narrow piece + Which he split away from a rock + Was changed to a fishing spear; + And then Kulóskap asked + “Who shall sit in the stern + And paddle; and who shall take + The spear?” The other said + “That will I do.” And so + The Master paddled; ere long + The canoe passed o’er a whale. + A monster of a fish; + There was not his like in the sea. + But he who held the spear + Sent it down into the waves + As if ’twere a thunderbolt; + And as the handle rose + He snatched it up, and so + The mighty fish was caught; + And as Kitpûsâgunâû + Whirled it on high, the whale + Loud roaring touched the clouds; + Then taking it from the spear + He tossed it into the barque + As if it had been a trout. + And both the giants laughed; + And the sound of their laugh was heard + All over the land afar, + The Wabanaki land. + + So, being at home, the host + Took up a knife of stone + Splitting the whale in two, + And threw one half to his guest. + And they roasted each his piece, + Over the fire and ate it. + +[Illustration: =How Kulóskap Went Whale-Fishing=] + + Now the Master, having marked + The light which was in the heaven + Long after the sun went down, + Said, “The sky is red, and the night + I think will be bitter cold.” + And the other understood + That by his magic power + The Lord would bring a frost + And make it cold indeed; + So he made the Marten bring + All the wood that lay without, + With the fresh oil of a porpoise + Which he multiplied ten times + By sorcery; and then + They sat them down and smoked, + And sang old songs and told + Tales of the early time. + But ever the cold came on, + And at midnight, when the fire + And fuel were all burnt out, + The Marten froze to death, + And then the grandmother. + But still the giants smoked on, + And laughed and talked as before. + + Then the rocks all round without + Split with the awful cold. + The great trees in the forest + Were rent with frost, and the sound + Was like thunder above, but still + The Master and “He who was born + After his mother’s death.” + Kitpûsâgunâû, + Laughed on, and so they sat + Until the sun arose. + + And then Kulóskap said + Unto the grandmother: + “_Nugumích, nemchaase!_” + “O grandmother, arise.” + And then unto the boy + “_Abistaneûch, nemchaase!_” + “Marten, arise!” and both + Awoke to life once more. + + Then as the day was fair + They went into the woods + To seek for game, yet found + Full little. All they got + Was one small beaver, so + The Master said: “My friend, + You may keep all of that.” + Then Kitpûsâgunâû + Fastened it to his knee + Where it dangled like a mouse. + But as the giant went + On through the woods, and on, + The beaver ever grew + Larger and larger still, + Till ’twas of monstrous size; + Then he who bore it, took + A mighty sapling. This + He twisted to a withe + And with it, to his waist + He tied the beaver fast; + But still it grew apace + Till, trailing after him, + It tore down all the trees, + So that the giant left + A clean fair road behind. + + Then when the night came on + They fished for whales again, + And feasted as before + And had the cold again; + So, even as before, + The grandmother lay dead + Of cold, with Marten, too. + Then Kitpûsâgunâû + Yielded unto the spell, + And Kulóskap sat alone, + Alone as conqueror. + But when the sun arose + He brought them back to life; + And, laughing heartily, + Said merrily, “Good-bye!” + To Kitpûsâgunâû.[33] L. + + +FOOTNOTES: + +[32] Long ago Kulóskap came to Partridge Island. + +[33] The last nine lines of this poem were added by me conjecturally. L. + + + + + VIII + + KULÓSKAP AND WUCHOʿSEN, THE WIND-EAGLE + + [_Passamaquoddy_] + + _Wuchoʿsen nit kininagwʾsit + Kʾchî plakʾn potowatak pemlamsuk._[34] + + + Wuchoʿsen the Giant Eagle, + The Bird-Who-Blows-the-Winds, + Lives far away in the North, + Ever sitting on a rock + Which is at the end of the sky; + Because when he flaps his wings + The wind blows over the earth, + Men gave him the name of old. + + When Kulóskap lived among men, + He often in his canoe + Went forth to kill the wild-fowl, + Ducks or swans or brant, + Which swim upon the sea. + One day the tempest roared, + The waves were as high as hillocks, + Even Kulóskap the Lord + Cared not to face the storm; + So then he said to himself: + “Wuchoʿsen has made this mischief + And all to show his power, + So now he shall feel mine!” + + He turned him to the North, + It was long ere he came to the end; + There on a moss-grown rock + He found a great White Bird, + The Eagle of the Wind. + + “Grandfather!” said the God, + “Thou takest no compassion + Upon us Kosesak-- + That is, ’thy suffering children’-- + For thou hast raised this storm. + It is too terrible! + Be easier with thy wings!” + + The Giant Bird replied: + “Even from the earliest time, + And from the earliest days, + Ere aught beside on earth + Had ever uttered word, + I moved my wings and spoke + In Wind unto the World; + For mine was the first Voice + E’er heard in life or time, + Therefore I’ll ever speak, + And ever move my wings, + At freedom, as I will.” + + Then Kulóskap the God, + Arose in all his might, + Tremendous--for he rose + Up to the clouds above-- + And took the Giant Bird + As if he were a duck, + And, tying fast his wings, + Cast him afar, adown + Into a deep dark cleft + Between the splintered rocks, + And left him lying there. + + Then all the Indians + Could go in their canoes + As freely as they chose + For many days and months. + But then as time went by, + They noted day by day + That all the waters grew + So stagnant and so foul + That even the Master found + He could not row his bark; + All was so thick and dead, + And rottenness and slime + Crept into all the world. + And then he thought upon + The Giant Bird, and went + To find him, far away. + As he had left him, so + He found him, for the Bird, + The Spirit of Air, + Can never truly die. + + And so he picked him up, + And then with care untied + One single wing, but left + The other tightly bound. + And since that time the Wind + Has never been so wild + As ’t ever was of yore. L. + +[Illustration] + + +FOOTNOTES: + +[34] Wuchoʿsen, that is the great eagle which blows the winds. + + + + + =Canto Fourth= + + THE MASTER AND THE SORCERERS + + + I + + KULÓSKAP AND WINPE; OR, THE MASTER’S FIRST VICTORY + + [_Micmac_] + + _Piʾche ktagudimol._[35] + + + All in the olden time, + Or in the first of all, + Of all things here on earth, + Men were as animals + And animals as men. + But how this mystery was, + No one can understand, + Though some explain it thus: + As Man was made the first, + All creatures first were men, + But as they gave themselves + To this or that desire + Like that of animals, + And all their souls to it, + So were they changed to brutes. + + Yet ere this came to pass + There was a middle time + When they could change their forms + To beasts or men at will; + Yet more and more and more + Even as men, they showed + In all, the Animal. + + Then Kulóskap the Great + Lived on a wooded isle + With many Indians + Whose names and natures, too, + Were all of beasts and birds. + + These men, and most of all + The one called Pulowech, + The Partridge, had attained + To certain magic power. + These, as they found him great, + Grew jealous of the Lord, + He who was ever Man; + And so they all resolved + To leave him in the isle. + But with them take away + His grandmother, likewise + Marten, the boy, who served + The Master in his lodge. + In Micmac Marten’s name + Is Abistanēūch; he + Was of the Elfin kind, + One who could change his form + To what he pleased. For all + Relating to the Lord + Was wonderful and strange. + + This Marten ever ate + From a small dish of bark + Called Witchkwîdlakunchich. + Whene’er he left this plate + Kulóskap always knew + The place where it was laid, + And by a glance thereat + Could tell whate’er had happed + Unto his family. + Kulóskap had, beside, + A wondrous magic belt + Which gave him endless strength + And untold mystic power. + Yet to increase his might, + Even he, the Lord of Men, + Must often all alone, + Dwell in the wilderness, + And fast and pray and dream, + Until by penance strong + He gained once more his power. + + Among his enemies + Who dwelt upon the isle, + Was one named Winpe, who + Of all was terrible; + So he and all the rest, + With Marten as a slave, + Likewise the grandmother, + One day when Kulóskap + Was hunting in the North + Got into their canoes + With all their worldly gear, + And sailed, far, far away. + + Now when the Lord returned + And saw that all were gone, + He sought and found the dish + Which Marten had concealed, + And on it read the truth: + How he had been deceived + And whither all had fled. + + Now, it is said, the Lord + To gain tremendous power, + Or such grand mastery + As man had never won, + Went to the wilderness, + And there for seven years + So trained his mighty mind + By penance into will, + That when the time was o’er + He knew that he had won, + And that no thing on earth + No sorcerer nor fiend, + Giant nor devil grim, + Could now resist his power. + So when the time had come + He called his dogs, and went + Down to the shore and looked + Far o’er the rolling sea, + And sang the magic song + Which all the Whales obey. + Soon in the distance rose + A small dark spot, which grew + In size as it drew near. + ’Twas but a little whale; + It came unto the Lord, + But he was now a giant; + He stepped upon the whale. + It sank beneath his feet; + He laughed and said, “Begone! + Thou art too small for me!” + + He sang again the song, + But now with all his power; + And then there came the Queen + Of all the whales, and she + Was as a giantess + Even among her kind; + She bore him easily + Unto Kespūgitk, then + She paused and said, “O Lord! + I dare not further go, + For I shall run ashore.” + And this he wished because + He would not wet his feet, + And so he lied and said: + “The land is far away.” + So she went boldly on, + Till she beheld below, + The bottom of the sea + With many shells on it; + And then she said in fear: + “The land, does it not seem + To thee like a bow-string?” “No!” + He answered, “Land is far.” + + The water grew so shoal + That soon she heard the song + Of many Clams, who lay + Deep shelled below the sand. + They were the enemies + Of Kulóskap the Man, + Their only enemy, + And so they sang to her: + “Hasten and throw him off, + And drown him in the sea.” + But great Putúp the whale + Who did not know their tongue, + Asked what the words might mean? + And he replied in song + “They tell you to make haste; + _Nenagimk_, ’to hurry’; + To hurry, to hurry along, + Away--as fast as you can.” + + The whale like lightning flew + Until she found herself + High up upon the shore, + Then she, too, cried in woe: + “Alas, alas! Nujich! + My grandchild, you have been + My death at last--for now + I cannot leave the land; + I shall swim in the sea no more!” + + But Kulóskap answered her: + “Nʾgumi, have no fear! + You shall not suffer, for + You shall swim in the sea once more.” + Then with a push of his bow + Against her head, he sent + The whale into the sea, + Into the deep once more. + + And then the whale rejoiced, + But ere she went she said: + “O darling grandson mine! + O Master! Hast thou not + Tobacco in thy pouch, + Therewith a pipe to spare?” + And he replied, “Ah yes! + I see you want a smoke, + I have what you require.” + + He gave the whale a pipe, + Tobacco and a light + And so she sailed away + Rejoicing as she went, + A-smoking as she swam; + While Kulóskap, the Lord, + Leaning upon his bow + Beheld the long low cloud + Which trailed behind her, till + She vanished far away. + + So to this very day, + The Indians, when they see + A whale who blows, cry out: + “Behold, it smokes a pipe, + The pipe of Kulóskap.” + + And so the Lord went on, + Meeting at every step + Adventures wild and strange; + Witches and sorcerers + Sought to delay his steps, + Until at last he came + To Uktâkumkuk, or + Néwfoundland, where his foes + Had been, then fled away. + + Again he sang his song, + And once again a whale + Carried him far away, + Away unto the North; + And now he found indeed + That he had gained his end, + Since by the shore he saw + A wigwam, and therein + His sorrowing grandmother + And Marten well-nigh dead; + Winpe the sorcerer + Had treated them full ill. + Greatly did they rejoice + To see their Lord once more; + And then Kulóskap said: + “When Winpe shall return + Do all that’s in your power + To irritate the man + To make him mad with wrath; + So shall he lose his power, + For anger weakeneth will.” + + They did what he required + When Winpe came again, + Till in a roaring rage + He sought to take their lives; + When lo! before their eyes + The Master stood and gazed + In aspect terrible, + Upon his angry foe. + Winpe fell back a pace + To gain once more his power; + It came and it was great. + With all his evil will + The sorcerer raised his strength + And as it came he grew + In giant stature, till + His head was o’er the pines; + And truly in those days + The pines were higher far + Than those we have to-day: + +[Illustration: =Kulóskap and Winpe=] + + But Kulóskap the Great + The Lord of Men and Beasts, + Laughed as the thunder roars. + And grew until his head + Was far above the clouds, + Until he reached the stars, + And ever higher still, + Till Winpe seemed to be + A child beneath his feet. + + Then, holding him in scorn, + Kulóskap the great lord + Smote Winpe with his bow + As one might strike a dog; + Down fell the sorcerer dead! + + +FOOTNOTES: + +[35] I will tell you of long ago. + + + + + II + + HOW A WITCH SOUGHT TO CAJOLE THE MASTER + + [_Micmac_] + + _Kes saak._[36] + + + This is a story of the olden time. + It chanced that great Kulóskap met a witch, + An evil being who had made herself + Look like a fair young girl, and that so well + By all the deepest art of sorcery, + That she was sure the Lord could never see + Through her disguise--wherein she was a fool, + Because he read her at a single glance. + + She bade him take her out in his canoe; + So forth they sailed over a summer sea + With a sweet breeze. The witch upon the way + Sought to beguile the Lord with loving words + To which he made no answer, knowing well + What kind of passenger he had on board. + + And so she played all her cajoleries, + While he remained as grim as any bear, + Replying with a growl to loving words; + Till in a rage she changed her melody + Into the curse which raises up the storm + As if to show defiance of his power. + And it was terrible when the wind howled + Over the waves which madly rose and fell + Like great white wolves a-jumping while they run; + And the red lightnings flashed, while the great sea + Grew dark as if to show their fire the more. + + And then the Master was enraged indeed, + That a vile witch should dare to play such tricks + With him, the mighty Lord of Beasts and Men; + And, driving the canoe unto the beach, + He leaped ashore, and giving it a push + He sent it headlong out to sea again, + And cried: “Sail with the devil if you will, + But ne’er on earth again in human form!” + + Then she in terror cried: “What must I be? + Oh, Master, say what shape shall I assume?” + And he replied: “Whatever form you please-- + That grace alone I give thee.” In despair + She plunged into the deep and there became + The _wĕbĕtumekw_, a ferocious shark + Which has upon its back a mighty fin + Like a great sail when swimming in the sea. + + So the canoe and witch were changed as one + To the great evil fish, and to this day + The Indians when they see it, ever cry: + “Behold the girl, who in the olden time + Was punished by the Master.” That is all! L. + + +FOOTNOTES: + +[36] Of old time. + + + + + III + + HOW KULÓSKAP FOUGHT THE GIANT SORCERERS AT SACO + + [_Passamaquoddy_] + + _Yut nʾkani aknodʾmâgon uch Kulóskap._[37] + + + This is a tale of Kulóskap, + An old one. There was a father + Who had three sons and a daughter, + And all were Mteolinwuk, + That is, they were magicians + Of terrible power, and giants; + They ate men, women, and children; + Yea, they did everything + That was wicked and horrible; + And the land grew tired of them + And of all their abominations. + Yet when this family + Was young, Kulóskap had been + Ever and truly their friend; + He had made their father his father, + The brothers his brothers, the sister + His sister by adoption, + As Indians often do. + + But, as they all grew older, + And the Master began to hear + On every side of their sins. + He said: “I will go among them + And find if this be true; + If it be so, they shall die-- + I will not spare one of those + Who oppress and devour mankind, + I care not who he may be.” + + This evil family dwelt + Near the place that now is Saco, + Upon the sandy field + Which is in the Intervale, + Or the summer bed of the river, + Among the White Mountains, which lie + Between Kèzitwâzuch, + Or Mount Kearsarge the mighty, + And Kchibenabesk + The towering rock, and near + Wʾnâgʾmeswuk Wigît + The Home of the Water Elves. + + Now the old man, the father + Of all these evil sorcerers, + Had only one eye, and he + Was half gray like a stony mountain; + Then the Master made himself + Like to the hoary old fellow; + There was not between them + The difference of a hair. + So having taken this form + He entered into the wigwam + And sat by the agèd man. + + Then the murdering brothers + Who never spared a soul, + Hearing that some one was talking, + Peeped slyly in, and seeing + A stranger so like their father + That they knew not which was which, + Said: “This is a great magician, + But he shall be tried ere he goes, + And that right bitterly.” + + Then the giantess sister took + The tail of a whale, and cooked it, + And gave it to the stranger + That he might eat it, when + Just as it lay before him + On the platter, and on his knees, + The elder brother entered + And saying: “This is too good + For a beggar like you,” took it + Away to his own wigwam. + And then the Master said: + “That which was given to me + Is mine--so I take it again.” + And sitting still he _willed_ + Or wished for it to return. + And lo! the dish came flying + Again into his lap! + And he ate from it, undisturbed. + Then the brothers said: “This truly + Is a very great magician, + But he shall be tried ere he goes, + And that right bitterly!” + + When he had eaten, they brought + A mighty bone; the jaw + Of a whale, and the elder brother + With great ado, and using + Both arms and all his strength, + Bent it a little, and proudly + He held it to the Master + Who with the thumb and finger + Of his right hand alone, + Snapped it like a green twig, + And crumbled it to powder. + Then the brothers said again: + “This is truly a great magician, + But he shall be tried ere he goes, + And that right bitterly.” + + [Illustration: + Then they brought an enormous pipe + Full of the strongest tobacco;] + + Then they brought an enormous pipe + Full of the strongest tobacco; + No man, not even a sorcerer + Could have smoked such fearful stuff. + And as it was passed around + All of them smoked. The brothers + Blew the smoke through their nostrils + As if it were light as air. + But the Master filled it full + And, lighting it, burned all + The tobacco into ashes + At one puff, with a single pull! + Blowing all the smoke through his nose + Even as they had done. + Then they said and now in anger: + “This is truly a great magician; + But he shall be tried ere he goes”-- + They never said it again! + + Yet still they tried to smoke. + They shut the door of the wigwam + Hoping to smother him. + But he puffed and puffed away + As if he had been on the top + Of a mountain in a breeze, + Till one said: “This is idle, + Let us go and play at ball!” + + The place where they were to play + Was the sandy stony plain + Which lies on the bend of the river. + And so the game began. + Kulóskap discovered + That the ball with which they played + Was a hideous human skull, + A living thing which snapped at + His heels. Had the Master been + As other men, the monster + Would have bitten a foot away. + Then he laughed aloud, and said: + “So this is your style of foot-ball! + Well and good! But let us all play + With our own balls.” He stepped + Up to a tree by the river, + And broke off a hole or knot + And it turned to a living skull, + But one which was ten times greater, + And ten times more terrible + Than that which the sorcerers used. + And the three brothers ran + Before it as it chased them + As rabbits are chased by a lynx; + They were entirely beaten. + Then Kulóskap stamped in the sand, + And the waters rose and came rushing + Fearfully from the mountains + Adown the river bed; + The whole land rang with their roar. + Then the Master sang the song, + The magic song which changes + All creatures to other forms, + Which changed the Three and their father + Into the Chinames, + A fish which is long and broad + As a man, and they all went headlong + Down in the flood to the ocean + Where they must dwell forever + And are caught unto this day. + + These three magicians wore + Each one a collar of wampum + Of purple beads and white, + Wherefore the Chinames + Has exactly round its neck + Or below its head, the same, + Distinctly marked and clear; + They were mighty men in their day + And great Mteolinwuk, + But were tried before they went + And that most bitterly. + + Yes indeed, Nsîwes, my brother, + This story is really true, + For Kulóskap was very great + In his day--and a day will come + When I myself shall go to him. L. + + +FOOTNOTES: + +[37] This is an old story about Kulóskap. + + + + + IV + + HOW THE MASTER SHOWED HIMSELF A GREAT SMOKER + + [_Passamaquoddy_] + + _Piʿche Kulóskap kʾchî skitap._[38] + + + Kulóskap the Great, + Lord of Beasts and Men, + Was ever a boon companion + And a right valiant smoker. + In all the world was no man + Who loved a well-filled pipe + Of good and fragrant tobacco + So heartily as he did. + + Now in that happy time, + The sun shone warmer and brighter, + The summers were far longer + In the land of the Wabanaki + Than they truly are to-day. + And the Indians raised _tomáwe_, + That is to say, tobacco, + Far better than the best + Which ever is seen to-day. + And they found a mighty solace + In burning the gold-brown leaves. + + There came one day to the Master + A great and evil magician + Who sought to take his life, + As the Master at once perceived; + For he read the thoughts of men + As though they were strings of wampum-- + Seeing deep into every heart. + + Now this evil magician thought, + By first amazing the Master + Through some wonderful trick, to weaken + The will which gave him strength; + As they say a fish is frightened + When he sees that his foe swims faster, + And is too much alarmed to fight. + + So the sorcerer sat to smoke + With a pipe whose bowl was bigger + Than the head of any man, + With a stem full ten feet long; + But ever that of Kulóskap + Grew to the size of a pumpkin, + And then like the ten-foot boulder + Which lies on the beach at Rye; + And the smoke which rose from his puffing + Was like that of a forest fire. + + Then the sorcerer filled his pipe + Afresh with strong tobacco, + Such as would kill if they breathed it + A porcupine or a toad. + And at one pull he burned it + Leaving no spark behind; + And at one whiff he sent it + Out in one great round ball; + Then sat and looked at the Master. + And then the Lord Kulóskap, + Whose pipe was many times greater, + Also sent his tobacco + Out in a puff as round-- + Out in a mighty ball + As hard as any flint, + And, blowing it on the ground + Which was of granite rock, + Split it asunder, so + That a valley yawned between them. + Then they both sat in silence + Until the Master said: + “Do that--and then take my life.” + But the wizard could do no more, + And returned in shame and anger + To the evil ones who had sent him. L. + +[Illustration] + + +FOOTNOTES: + +[38] Long ago Kulóskap was a great man. + + + + +[Illustration] + + V + + KULÓSKAP AND THE WITCH + + [_Passamaquoddy and Micmac_] + + _Nequt Kulóskap meiaoet + Pechian kʾtakʾmikomnok. Nit kʾmʾtkinansnok + Neke bʾsʾnboek kʾchî Kiwaʿkwik._[39] + + + When Kulóskap the Master + Came into this world of ours, + Or the Land of the Wabanaki, + It was full of giants and monsters, + Sorcerers, dwarfs and demons, + Mighty beasts and men, + Fiends and the Indian devils, + And, worst of all, the witches, + And worst among them Pûjinskwes, + A word which means “The Pitcher.” + + She could be fair when she would, + Fair as a rosy sky + With stars still beaming in it + In very early dawn; + Or terrible as a storm, + When it howls among the mountains, + And lightens in the midnight. + + Now while the Master was young, + And had not gained the power + Which he won in riper age, + Pûjinskwes sought his love. + But he knew that she was evil, + So he fled away from her wooing, + And the wild-cat witch pursued him. + It was a dreadful flight, + Since to make their steps the longer + Both took the giant form, + Took it by magic power. + + It was an awful storm, + A terrible storm in winter + When the wind is chasing the clouds; + It was like a frightful tempest + In summer when the lightning + Chases after the thunder. + Deep lay the snow on the earth; + Therefore they both wore snow-shoes; + But, when they came to the shore, + Kulóskap leaped from the mainland + Over the sea between + To the island of Grand Manan; + And so he escaped from the sorceress; + For the shoes which the Master wore + Were round and out of the common; + While those of the witch were long, + Long it is said and pointed, + And the marks of the two are still + To be seen deep pressed in the rocks + By the shore to this very day. + + But for days and years thereafter + Pûjinskwes sought to slay him, + And she had terrible power, + The might of the Evil Witches + Which came from the early time. + + Now ’tis the greater part + Of the Indian art of magic + To know what our foes are planning, + Planning and plotting against us, + And all their tricks and devices + Which they scheme in the darkened paths, + The darkened paths of Evil. + In knowing this, Kulóskap + Was the greatest and the first, + And, knowing new arts of magic, + Went far beyond them all. + For before his time all sorcerers + Went every one his way + Unheeding the ways of others, + Even in wickedness. + But Kulóskap first of all + Threw out his soul unto others + To find what others knew. + + When the Lord was on the warpath + Seeking the sorcerer Winpe + Who had carried away his household, + He came to Ogomkeok + Where he found a great birch wigwam, + And, in the wigwam seated + Bending over a fire, + A strange old woman--a horror + Of all old hags and ugliest-- + Trembling in every limb, + As if death stood at her elbow, + Dirty, ragged and loathsome, + He never had seen the like. + + Then looking up at the Master + With bleared and pitiful stare, + She begged him to bring some fire-wood + Which he did indeed, while knowing + Who it was who was so disguised, + For he knew it was Pûjinskwes + And he laughed at her in his heart. + + Then she said to him, “O stranger, + As thou art a man of mercy, + Pray free me from the _waagûkw_ + From the monstrous terrible vermin + Which madden me by their bites!” + Now all the _waagûkw_ were devils, + The spirits of every poison, + Which she thought had such a power + As must even kill the Master. + + But he foreseeing this + Had taken as he came + Cranberries from a swamp, + And bidding her bend over, + He took the imps from her hair, + And every one as he took it + Turned into a porcupine, + Or else a terrible toad. + When she asked him, “Have you found one?” + And, “I have,” replied the Master; + Then, “Crush it,” was her answer, + So then he crushed a berry, + And Pûjinskwes, hearing the sound, + Thought to herself: “The poison + Which is now upon his fingers + Will soon be in his heart, + And death will follow after.” + + But Kulóskap put the devils + One by one as he found them + Under a wooden platter + Which was lying close beside him. + And as he did this he chanted + A song which put her to sleep, + A song of wonderful power. + So she slept until the morrow + And when she awoke, the Master + Was far away, and her devils, + Porcupines, toads and all, + Were swarming over the floor, + For they had upset the platter. + Then she was filled with fury + To think he despised her so + That he had not even cared + To kill her while a-sleeping. + Then she burst forth in madness, + Wild as the Indian devil + Forth in her own true figure + As beautiful as sin, + Wild as the wolverine; + And gathering up her imps, + And summoning all her power + Of magic by fiercer will, + Went forth to meet the Master. + + Onward he went to the North + Till he came to a pass in the hills. + It was a great ravine + Wherein two monstrous beasts + Waylaid all travellers + And tore them limb from limb. + Straight at his dogs they flew; + He did but touch the dogs, + And speak a word of power, + When up they grew to size + Stupendous, so they seized + The beasts e’en as the wolf + Seizes a rabbit. Then + The fight was at an end. + These dogs had been so trained + That when called off they fought + More fiercely than before, + And when told not to bite + They ever bit the more. + + Soon he came to the top + Of a high hill, and looking + Afar o’er all the land + Beheld, away in the distance, + A wigwam, and knew in his heart + That an enemy dwelt therein; + And coming to it he found + An old woman with two fair daughters. + But he knew at a glance that the mother + Was a witch among the witches, + And the one who sought his life. + + The girls came to him greeting + With fond and pleasing glances, + Asking if he was hungry, + And offering him a dainty: + The entrails of a bear + Which, when turned and smoked and seasoned, + Are deemed by all delicious. + They are a common gift + Of Indian girls to their lovers, + For, when cast around the neck + As a necklace, it means “I love you.” + But these had been enchanted, + Poisoned by magic spells; + Had the Master taken them then + He would have lost his power. + + Little they knew of the magic, + The new and wonderful magic + Of reading the thoughts of men, + Which the Lord had brought into the land, + Unknown to the witches of yore; + So as they came wooing round him + With smiles and wanton glances, + He smiled, as if all he wanted + Of them, was to be won! + So he took the gift which they offered, + But, instead of putting it on, + Cried out to his dogs, “_Cuss! cuss!_” + Which in Micmac means “Stop, stop!” + But which they had been trained to believe + Was, “Hie at them!” They flew at the witches + When both flashed up like fire + In the terrible form of devils, + As flaming female fiends. + Then came an awful tumult + Such as never before was seen + In the land of the Wabanâki; + All the earth and rocks around + Were rent in the dreadful tumult + And all the while the Master + Cried merrily to his dogs: + “Stop, stop! These are my sisters, + Let them alone! Be quiet!” + But the more he bade them be peaceful + The more they attacked the witches + And drove them at last away. + + Then the Master entered the wigwam + Where Pûjinskwes sat waiting, + Waiting for him as dead, + Waiting for him as food. + So he said to her while smiling, + “Grandmother, are you hungry? + Do you love the links of a bear? + Then here are some.” He threw them + Around her neck and she died, + Died and became a devil. + Yet the sorcerers when devils + Ever rise to life again; + Ever rise to work men mischief, + For evil can never die. + + Then the Master kept on his way + Till he met the giant Winpe-- + The evil sorcerer Winpe + Whom he slew in terrible battle. + This is the song of the Micmacs, + Of the Master’s earlier deeds. + + +FOOTNOTES: + +[39] When Kulóskap the Lord came into our land the country was full +of great giants. + + + + + VI + + KULÓSKAP AND THE WITCH CALLED “THE PITCHER” + + [_Passamaquoddy_] + + _Uskijinwi otenesis._[40] + + + There was an Indian village + Wherein dwelt many people, + Who were all of the Pogumʾk + Or of the Black Cat totem; + And wisest and bravest among them + Was Kulóskap the chief; + And when he went forth a-hunting + With the _tumʾhîgʾn_ (tomahawk), + The knife and bow and arrow, + He slew the moose and the bear; + So he gave meat to the poor, + So he fed all the tribe, + Yet, though he was chief of the Black Cats, + He was by his mother a Bear. + + Pûjinskwes the witch and devil + Was also one of the Black Cats; + She was woman or man as she listed, + But in those days she lived as a man; + And, because she hated the chieftain, + She thought how she might kill him, + And take his place in the tribe. + One day when all the people + Were packing to travel away + To another place for summer, + Pûjinskwes asked the chief + To go with him (or _her_, + As you may choose to take it), + Adown to the water side + To seek for the eggs of the gull. + Then both in a canoe + Went far away, and still farther, + Till they came to a lonely island. + And while Kulóskap was seeking + For eggs along the seaside + She stole away in silence, + Away in the _agwedʾn_ + That is, in the birch-canoe. + And as she paddled away + She sang in the Indian tongue: + “_Nikedha pogumʾk mʾneʿnuk + Petesinel sagʾmawiw!_”[41] + “I have left the Black Cat on an island, + I shall be the chieftain now.” + + So she returned to the village; + Next day they all departed, + There was not one of them left, + Save the one who was worth them all. + Then at night they camped, and expected + The chief who w’ould come to them, + And then the evil Pitcher + Ruled them as Sagamore. + + Now for thirty days Kulóskap + Who had well-nigh lost his power + Of magic, as all magicians + Are often all exhausted, + Remembered that his friend + The Fox was mteolin, + With all the strength of sorcery. + And still the mighty Master + Could sing the wonderful song + Which is heard to any distance, + Away over forests and mountains, + Over the rolling rivers. + So he sang and the Fox soon heard it, + And he travelled by night and day + Until he came to the ocean, + And swam to the lonely isle. + + “Now swim with me to the mainland,” + Said the Fox unto the Master. + “Brother, I cannot do it + For all my power is gone.” + “Hold to my tail” said the Fox, + “Be of good faith, my brother, + We soon shall gain the shore.” + + “But remember,” said the Fox, + “While we are in the water + Thou must keep thine eyes fast shut. + All depends upon that, + On that alone and thy faith.” + + So all went well for a time, + But anon the chief grew weary, + And opening one eye a little + It seemed to him that truly + They were not ten feet from the shore, + And being of little faith + He thought--for he spoke not aloud: + “We shall never get to land:” + But the Fox who read his thought, + Replied, “Do not believe it, + I _will_ that we reach the shore.” + + But the journey lasted long, + For what seemed unto the Master + To be ten feet, was really + Ten miles--and the wind was high, + And the waves were wild and beat them, + For the witch had raised a storm; + And it was late in the evening + Before they reached the land. + + “And now my elder brother,” + Said the Fox, “you may go your way.” + He went and came to the camp + Where he had left his people. + + There all was silent and sad, + The ashes were cold on the hearths, + In the deserted homes, + In the lonely, silent wigwams; + So he followed the tracks of the Indians, + And in a day came near them. + The first whom he overtook + Was his mother bearing his brother; + Nʾmokswes, that is the Sable, + Or as others say the Marten. + She bore him on her back, + The child’s back lay against her, + So that, while she looked forward, + He could only look behind. + As Kulóskap peered from a thicket, + Smiling to see the boy, + The Sable cried: “Oh, my brother + Is coming to us at last!” + And she turned her head, yet saw nothing, + For the Master hid his head + Quickly behind a tree. + But the infant cried again: + “Indeed and truly, mother, + I saw my brother there!” + And this time glancing quickly + She caught a sight of the Master, + And they all laughed for joy. + + Then the mother threw Nʾmokswes + Like a stick down into the leaves, + But the Master bade him rise + And run to the camp with speed. + “And when you are there,” he said, + “Build up a mighty fire, + A fire of hemlock bark, + And take the Pitcher’s babe, + Whom she so dearly loves, + And has given to you to tend, + And throw it into the fire; + Then run to me for your life, + For verily thou wilt be + In direst need to do it.” + + And as he had commanded + It was done. When the fire was hot + Nʾmokswes threw the imp, + The child of an evil mother, + Into the roaring flames, + And it was burned to death. + Then the sorceress who was maddened, + As you may well believe, + With rage, pursued the Sable, + Even as a starving wolf + Chases a rabbit in winter: + Nʾmokswes in great fear + Cried, “Oh my elder brother!” + And the sorceress yelled: “Call out! + Call loudly as you can! + For to save your life you must run + As far as the distant island + Where I left him long ago.” + But at the word the Master + Stepped forward, and as he faced her + Said: “He need not run so far.” + + Then, seeing him, fear came o’er her, + But laughing aloud to hide it, + She said: “I only chased him + In sport, for I truly love him.” + But the Master answered grimly, + “I know thee and thy love, + And also all thy tricks, + Thou who art truly a devil.” + Then feeling that his power + Of magic was returning, + He used his mighty will, + And the will awoke to might, + And before his breath the sorceress + Was driven backward lightly, + Like a leaf before the wind + Till her back was against a tree; + Then he said to her, “Remain + Ever attached to the bark,” + And so indeed she remained, + Though not as the Master meant. + + Then the Master and his brother + Together went to the camp; + Great was the joy when he came. + + The Pitcher had a hatchet, + And so with much ado + She cut herself (or himself), + In time away from the tree. + The Black Cats heard her chopping, + Pounding and chopping all night; + And wondered what it might be. + She came to them in the morning, + But a fragment from the tree + Ever adhered to her back: + So they laughed at her in scorn, + And sang together these words: + + “He who made the chief + Stay on a distant island, + Is now stuck by the chief + Fast with his back to a tree.” + + It is said she turned to a toad + Which bears to this day on its back + A hump, or the piece of wood + Which was carried away from the tree. + Though another legend has it + That, as during all her life + She had tormented men + With her insatiate longing, + She was changed to a mosquito + Which preys on them in the night, + The blood-thirsty stinging Tʾsiso + Ever a-stinging and singing: + “Give me thy life and blood.” + It is said it was at Fresh-Water, + After she left Bar Harbor, + That she changed into the insect + Which ever will bear her name. + + Pûjinskwes had many children + Whose fathers were giants and monsters, + Sorcerers and demons, + But, as they all were hideous, + She stole from the Indian women + Their fairest babes, and pretended + That they were all her own. + Among these was a comely youth, + And as he grew older he wondered + That most of his brothers and sisters + Were dark and like the devils + While he, and a few, were fair. + So one day he asked Pûjinskwes + Why it was? She answered laughing: + “The dark were born in the darkness, + But thou, my son, by day.” + + +FOOTNOTES: + +[40] There was an Indian village. + +[41] This couplet indicates the metre into which most of the original +can be resolved. + + + + + VII + + HOW KULÓSKAP SAILED THROUGH THE CAVERN OF DARKNESS + + [_Micmac_] + + _Nʾkani bʾmaoinnoak itmok niktuk iloiknuk wesisek + Kulóskap honichan uch negum + Naga honosokoan nihit Piliomeskasik ktakʾmigw._[42] + + + It is told in old traditions, + And even in them with a difference, + According to the nations + In which these songs are sung, + That “in these olden times,” + Kulóskap’s seven neighbors, + That is, seven beasts of the forest, + Stole his family from him + And that he long pursued them + Even to Néwfoundlánd. + + When he came there it was night, + And, finding Marten alone, + He took him into the forest, + Bidding him seek for game, + Putting his belt on the boy; + Which gave him such magic power + That he killed both moose and bear, + And brought all gayly home. + + Now it came to pass in the morning, + That old Dame Kâkâgûch, + The meddling and spying Crow, + Observed that meat was drying + In the smoke of the Master’s wigwam. + This news she spread abroad, + Adding that trouble was coming, + For the Master must have returned. + + Then a great fear came upon them, + They sat every man in his wigwam, + Waiting for death in silence + For they knew the Master had come. + But when he had slain Winpe + And saw them sitting in silence, + Frightened like so many rabbits + Before a hungry wild-cat, + He laughed aloud and forgave them; + For he was noble and generous, + And cared for no small foe. + And as they were very hungry, + For he had come in a time + When all of them were starving. + He fed them all with venison; + So sorrow left the wigwams. + But as they had left him of old, + He left them in turn and departed. + Ere they had known his power, + They had left him alone to die; + Now that they knew his power, + They feared they should die without him. + But he left them to go their path + And turned his steps toward others. + Then, having made a canoe, + The Master and his mother, + Dame Bear, and Marten, his brother, + Went forth on a mighty river + Which was in its beginning + Both broad and beautiful. + So they sailed away down the stream + Till they came to mighty cliffs + Which ever grew higher and closer, + Till they met in an arch overhead, + But the river ran on beneath them, + And ever far underground, + Deep into earth and deeper, + Till it dashed into roaring rapids + Among rocks and wild ravines; + Then under cataracts, + So horrible that death + Seemed to come and go as they darted + With every plunge and motion + Headlong in their canoe. + + [Illustration: + But the Master with silent soul + Ever sang the songs of magic.] + + Narrower grew the water, + More dreadful still the current, + And fear came over the mother + And then on the brother Marten, + Till of that fear they died. + But the Master with silent soul + Ever sang the songs of magic, + The awful incantations, + Till he had passed the darkness + And came again into sunlight, + The bright and beautiful day. + + He found upon the bank + A lonely deserted wigwam, + Therein he carried the dead, + And, laying them down, he said: + “_Nemchaase!_” that is, “Arise!” + And behold they both arose, + And thought they had only slept. + Then the Master found by this trial + He had gained his greatest power. L. + + +FOOTNOTES: + +[42] The old people say that seven beasts stole Kulóskap’s family +from him and that he followed them to Newfoundland. + + + + + VIII + + HOW THE MASTER FOUND THE SUMMER + + [_Passamaquoddy_] + + _Piche pamaosoinnoak wiwikitopʾnik + Mequatoekak ospassio._[43] + + +[Illustration] + + In the long time ago, + When people ever lived + In the red morning light + Or ever the day of man had come; + Before the sun had risen + And ere the Eastern land + Was peopled as to-day, + Kulóskap, the great lord, + Went far into the North + Where all was snow and ice. + + He came to a great lodge + Wherein he found a giant, + Truly a wondrous one + The greatest of his race, + For he was Winter. When + The Indian god came in, + He sat in silence down; + Then gave as welcoming + A pipe unto his guest; + And as they smoked, the host + Told stories to the chief-- + Tales of the olden time, + In the old giant tongue. + A charm was in the words, + The enchantment of the frost, + And so the giant talked on, + Freezing with every word, + Until Kulóskap fell + Into a sleep like death. + Six months he silent lay, + Even as the bear or toad + Lies quietly till spring: + + Then, when the charm was gone, + The Indian god awoke, + Woke with his might renewed. + Homeward he turned his way + Unto the glowing South. + At every step his foot + Met with the growing grass, + Warm breezes greeted him, + And many a forest flower + Rose up and talked in song. + + He came into a dell + Deep in the greenwood shade, + Where many little fays, + Fair little sun-ray elves, + Were dancing in their joy. + And their sweet fairy queen, + Bright Summer, led the round-- + Summer most beautiful + Of beings ever born. + He caught fair Summer up, + And, by a crafty trick, + He kept her as his own; + For, as he fled away, + And as the elves pursued, + He let behind him trail + A long and slender cord + Cut from a moose-hide. All + Pulled gayly at the end; + But as he ran, he let + The cord run out, and they + Were ever left behind, + Because by magic power + The moose-cord had no end! + Even so the Lord escaped + The Fairies of the Light, + The Ladies of the Dawn! + + Again as he returned + He came unto the lodge + Where grim old Winter lay, + Who gayly welcomed him, + Hoping to freeze the god + Again into sleep, and hold + Him very sternly there, + Forever in his power. + But hidden in his breast + Kulóskap held the charm + Of a great victory, + For he had Summer there; + Even as now to you + I sing the summer song! + + They sat them down and smoked. + This time the Master told + Tales of the ancient time + In the old giant tongue + Once spoken by the gods-- + Magic and wonder tales. + This time he had the power; + His spell was mightiest, + And his strange wizardry + The stronger of the two. + Ere long the hut grew warm + And then down Winter’s cheeks, + His cheeks of hard gray stone, + The melting ice-drops ran, + Till he and all his home + Fell down, and in a flood + As water rushed away + Adown between the rocks + Into the roaring sea! + + Then everything awoke. + The seeds and wildflowers grew. + The snow in rivers ran + Bearing away the leaves + Left from the Fall before; + The fairies all came out + And then Kulóskap turned + Again unto the South, + Leaving his captive there; + Summer was in the land. L. + + +FOOTNOTES: + +[43] Long ago people used to live in the red light of morning. + + + + + IX + + HOW KULÓSKAP LEFT THE WORLD + + [_Passamaquoddy and Micmac_] + + _Yut negum tan Kulóskap + Udelinaktamnes uskitkamigw._[44] + + +[Illustration] + + When the great Kulóskap, + The Lord of Beasts and Men, + By power, for all his people + And for the world, had subdued + All of the evil things + Which cursed the early time, + Giants and sorcerers, + Witches and devils dire, + Fiends and every horror, + All were silenced then. + The ice-hearted Kiwakʿw + Wandered no longer free + In the green wilderness, + And the mighty bird Kullû, + Great as a hundred eagles, + No longer scared the Indian + As it spread its mighty wings + Like a cloud ’twixt earth and the sun. + Evil beasts, devils and serpents + Were found no more in the land, + And the world at last knew peace; + For the Master had taught to man + All that should make him happy; + But all were in turn ungrateful, + And, while they feared the Master, + Grew every day more wicked, + Forgetting him in their hearts; + And sin roared in the land. + + Now when the ways of men + And of beasts became so evil, + So false, proud and ferocious, + Kulóskap as their lord + Was angered at their sin, + Yet bore it as a god + Till all his love was gone; + As oil spreads over the sea + Till all is thinned away. + Then he sent messengers forth + Inviting all to a feast, + The richest ever known + By the great Lake Minas shore, + On the silver water’s edge; + And all the beasts of the wood, + The fathers of all the tribes, + Came to the feast in state, + Came at the call, to revel; + But the Lord had little to say. + Solemn and grim was the banquet, + All knew that the chief was going, + And knew, too, why he would leave them. + + And when the feast was over, + Kulóskap, the Lord of all living, + Entered his great canoe + And sailed away over the water, + The shining waves of Minas; + And they looked in silence at him + Until they could see him no more. + Yet, after they ceased to behold him, + They still heard his voice in song, + The wonderful voice of the Master! + But the sounds grew fainter and fainter + And softer in the distance, + Till at last they died away. + + Then over them all was silence, + Till a wonder came to pass; + For all the beasts, who, before + Had spoken but one common language, + Now talked in different tongues; + Each with a tongue of his own + Understood the others no more. + + So they parted from one another + And fled to the sea or the forest; + And, since that day of the parting, + They never have met in council, + And never again will meet + Till the day when all sins and sorrows + Will be in full forgiven, + Forgiven and forgotten, + And their Lord the great Kulóskap + Shall return to restore to his children + The age of sunshine and plenty; + When all shall dwell together + In peace and joy forever; + Till then the world will mourn. + + And ’tis said that, when the Master + Had left Acadia, + The bird who most had loved him, + The great white Snowy Owl + Went far into the North, + Into the deep dark forest, + Where to this day his children + Sing to the night “_Kūkuʿskūūs!_” + Which means in Indian, + “I am sorry, oh, I am sorry!” + And the loons who had been his huntsmen, + Go up and down by the waters, + Over the snow-topped mountains, + Across the rushing rivers, + Through dale and wood and valley, + Seeking in vain for their master, + The Lord whom they cannot meet; + Ever wailing, wailing sadly, + Because they find him not. L. + + +FOOTNOTES: + +[44] This is how Kulóskap left the world. + + + + + X + + THE MASTER AND THE FINAL DAY + + [_Passamaquoddy_] + + _Kulóskap mech pʾmaoso?_[45] + + + “Is Kulóskap living yet?” + Yes, far away, but no one knoweth where-- + Beyond the mountains or above the skies, + Where in the autumn’s lengthening twilight shades, + He smokes his _tūmʾhîgʾnpowâgon_, + His ancient tomahawk-pipe, + Making the brown air + Of the pleasant Indian summer. + Some say that he sailed away + In his marvellous stone canoe, + Afar beyond the sea, + To the country of the East; + Some that he went to the West; + And ’tis said that in days of old + There were men who knew where he dwelt, + And, making a pilgrimage + Could get from him what they sought. + And they say that, even now, + If you travel ever on, + Travel in perfect faith, + You’ll find at last the Kchi Sagem, + That is the great Sagamore + The greatest of all lords. + + “Is Kulóskap living yet?” + Yes, he lives in a very great wigwam, + A wigwam very long-- + That is, a council lodge-- + Where he always is making arrows; + And all one side of the lodge + Is full of arrows now, + All closely packed together, + Even as your fingers lie. + When all the lodge shall be full + The god will come forth to battle, + And till then no mortal being + May ever enter the wigwam. + + “On whom will war be made?” + He will make it on all mankind, + He will end all life that endures, + For the world will pass away + When that battle shall come to an end. + I know not when it will be, + To-morrow it may come + Or hundreds of years away. + + “Are any to be saved + By any one, in that hour?” + That is beyond my ken, + All I have heard is this: + That the world will pass away + In roaring fire and flame, + While all the sea will rise + Hot boiling into mist, + And that the good with it + Will rise on high to heaven; + It may perhaps be so; + I’ve only heard it told, + Just heard it--and no more. L. + +[Illustration] + + +FOOTNOTES: + +[45] Is Kulóskap alive yet? + + + + + PART SECOND + + =Witchcraft Lore= + + + + + WITCHCRAFT LORE + + + + + I + + THE WIZARD’S CHANT + + [_Passamaquoddy_] + + _Nil nolbin naga ntetlitemen pekholagon._[46] + + +[Illustration] + + I sit and beat the wizard’s magic drum; + And by its mystic sound I call the beasts. + From mountain lair and forest nook they throng; + E’en mighty storms obey the dreadful sound. + + I sit and beat the wizard’s magic drum; + The storm and thunder answer when it calls. + Aplasemwesit, mighty whirlwind, stops + To hearken to the mystic sound I make. + + I sit and beat the wizard’s magic drum; + And Chibelaʿkwe, night-air spirit, flies + To hearken to the mystic sound I make; + And old Wuʾchoʿsen, storm-bird of the North, + Rests his great pinions, causing calm to reign, + To hearken to the mystic sound I make. + + I sit and beat the wizard’s magic drum; + And Lumpeguin, who dwells beneath the wave, + Arises to the surface struck with awe, + To hearken to the mystic sound I make. + E’en Atwuskniges, armed with axe of stone, + Will cease his endless chopping, and be still + To hearken to the mystic sound I make. + + I sit and beat the wizard’s magic drum; + And Appodumken, with his long, red hair, + Ariseth from the depths, and draweth near + To hearken to the mystic sound I make. + + The lightning, thunder, storm and forest sprite, + The whirlwind, gale, and spirit of the deep, + The Chibelaʿkwe, loathly night-air ghost, + All come together, and with reverent mien + Will hearken to the mystic sound I make. P. + + +FOOTNOTES: + +[46] I sit and beat the magic drum. + + + + + II + + THE WOMAN AND THE SERPENT + + [_Passamaquoddy_] + + _Piʿchedog Laʿtogwesnuk._[47] + + + Far away, very far in the North, + There dwelt by a great fair lake + An Indian and his wife, + A very beautiful woman + Given to strange wild dreams; + Passion was in her blood. + + The lake was frozen over + For many months in the year; + One day, when she cut away + The ice, she saw in the water + A pair of wonderful eyes + Steadily gazing at her; + Bright eyes which charmed her so + That she could not move a hand; + Then she saw a handsome face + And a graceful slender young man, + Who rose from the glittering water, + And he himself, like it, + Glittered from head to foot; + On his breast were _nʾskemanul_, + Or shining silvery plates. + + He said, “I am Aʿtosis, + The King of all the Serpents”; + Little she cared for his nature, + She talked with him of love, + She returned his fond embraces; + Every day she came to meet him, + And often in the night. + + Her husband noticed that often + She strayed away from home, + And asked her, why she wandered? + She answered, “To get fresh air.” + + The weather grew ever warmer; + The ice from the lake had melted, + Grass, flowers and leaves were growing. + The woman patiently waited + Till her husband was asleep; + Then she stole away in silence + From the one whom she kissed no more + Unto her serpent lover + Whom she kissed with all her heart. + + The husband greatly suspecting, + Resolved to watch her wandering. + And so, to avert suspicion, + Said, “Stay here in the wigwam, + For I shall be gone three days + To hunt the deer in the forest.” + But at the end of the second + He came again to the wigwam, + And found that she was absent. + As he sat, re-kindling the fire, + She entered. He saw upon her + Bright shining silver scales; + He asked her what ’twas that glittered? + She answered, “My silver brooches.” + + He said. “I must go again + To be absent hunting to-morrow.” + He went to the top of a hill + Overlooking the lake, where he watched her. + She went and sat by the shore; + Then rose afar in the water + What seemed to his sight to be + A shining flake of ice, + But when it came to the shore + ’Twas a tall and slender man + All clad, as it seemed, in silver. + The woman leapt up and embraced him, + And gave him many kisses. + + The husband in awe and anger + Went forth to other people, + And left his wife forever; + But soon her father and mother + Came to her home to see her, + And dwelt with her many days. + And every day, when returning + From an absence they knew not whither, + She brought them furs and venison, + With fish and fowl in plenty. + + They asked her whence she had it? + She answered, “I have another, + A husband who suits me better + Than him whom first I married. + This one can give me all. + He is a better hunter.” + She sent them away with presents, + With many silver bracelets, + With many ear-rings and brooches + And said: “Do not return + Till the ice is here in winter.” + + When they returned they found her + White as a silver lily: + Her Indian hue had faded; + And soon she gave birth to offspring + But her children all were serpents. + Then the parents went away; + But even as they left her + She said: “When you come again + You will see me but never know me!” + + Years after three Indian hunters + Who had heard this wondrous story + Sought by the lake for the wigwam. + It was standing still, but empty, + But all the wood about it + Was full of great black serpents + Which from the grass uprising + Would look them in the face + Then glide away in silence. L. + + +FOOTNOTES: + +[47] Far away in the north. + + + + + III + + THE WIZARD SNAKE + + [_Abenaki_] + + _Noñwat nizwak noñkskwesizak._[48] + + + Long years ago, two lovely Indian girls + Were wont to leave their people every week, + Embarking secretly in birch canoe. + Their tribe knew neither why nor where they went. + One summer’s noon a hunter chanced to stray + Close to a well-hid pond in forest deep, + Where, puzzled by the sound of plashing spray, + He stole behind the alders for a peep. + There swam the damsels in abandoned glee, + Their hair all streaming with a loathly snake. + Then when they felt the hunter’s look of awe + Straightway they dived beneath the surface foul. + In horror, back the hunter made his way + And told the Indians what his eyes had seen. + Then, all together left the happy town + And struggling through the brush and tangled wood + Went straightway to that fearsome pool to save + The damsels from a fate too dread to tell. + But ah, when they drew near, they heard them sing, + All sad and woful in a wailing chant: + “No more, no more may we turn back again, + For mortal eye hath seen us in our sin.” P. + +[Illustration] + + +FOOTNOTES: + +[48] Long ago there were two maidens. + + + + + IV + + THE MEASURING WORM + + [_Abenaki_] + + _Noñwat alnoñbak liwʾlalmoñldamōk + Ali mʾdaulinʾwak aïdit._[49] + + + Long, long ago the Indians believed in witches’ power. + One day a man was hunting far from human sights and sounds, + Deep in the wildest forest glades, nor thought of magic wiles, + When suddenly he heard a voice which said to him: “Depart, + And come again to this same spot at earliest streak of dawn.” + Awestruck, the hunter at the hour appointed sought once more + To hear the mystic tones which came to him he knew not whence. + So at the morrow’s dawn he trod again the darksome glade; + And once again he heard the voice command him in this wise: + “Begone from here and seek the spot where yawns a precipice. + There on the earth thine eyes shall see a liver freshly cut + This eat and then depart; but come again, I’ll give thee strength.” + Then on the following day, he brought his bow and arrows sharp + And heard the voice command him: “Do thou shoot at yonder tree,” + He shot, and saw his arrow pass straight through the doomèd tree. + + Astonished beyond measure then, he bade his mother look. + “_O kini nikʾn_,” “mother, see,” he cried in wonder great. + His mother saw and straightway feared; began to watch the lad, + And marked that when he lay at night no sleep would come to him, + But always after little time he’d rise and steal away, + Till daylight dawned and then he would come creeping back to bed. + At last, all tortured by her pain and harrowed by her fears, + She questioned him and said: “My son, where hast thou been all + night?” + Quoth he: “My friend and I have played together in the wood.” + She asked once more: “My son, pray tell what is it that you do.” + “We have been killing serpents vile and eating them,” said he; + “A serpent’s liver eaten giveth magic gifts to man. + I am not as I was before, but have the power to move + And climb from ledge to ledge as doth a worm, upon my head. + My friend hath taught me how to pass through ways impassable + To all save us.” “Who is thy friend?” His mother asked of him. + “His name is Tatebákwunowat, which means ‘a Measuring Worm.’ + Of sport like this I never dreamed;” and yet the mother feared, + And told her agèd husband that their son was lost to them; + For he’d become _mʾdaulin_ and endowed with secret might. + Then spake the father: “This shall cease; I know a way to save + The foolish lad.” So when the evening came, he locked him in + And would not let him forth to roam in spite of all his prayers. + Then came the sound of some one walking heavily and hard, + The old man looked and saw a Thing of horror at his door, + Large eyes, short arms, short body and long legs of insect shape. + “Set free thy son thou foolish one,” the loathsome wizard cried. + “Not I,” replied the father, and at once let fall the flap + Before his wigwam door. The lad grew very ill and begged, + Entreated and implored that he might be allowed to roam + As he had done before, but only got the answer “No.” + + Yet once again when morning’s light shone whitely on the trees, + Another wizard slowly came before the wigwam door. + At his approach the leaves and shrubs all rustled as from wind. + “Why dost thou seek to keep thy son from getting magic power? + He hath the magic gift to be the greatest of the great + Among us men who practise arts unknown to thee and thine.” + So spoke the wizard scornfully; the father stern replied: + “I have no wish that son of mine should be like thee and thine.” + Then quoth the wizard: “Thou shalt see thy son die here to-night, + For we have taken him too far to let him back to thee.” + “I care not if he die or no,” the father answering said, + And moaning with an angry moan the wizard drew away + And soon was lost to sight amid the waving forest leaves. + + In awful agony the boy lay stretched upon the earth + Retching and crying out as one who soon must breathe his last. + Till suddenly he vomited a mass of serpent skins, + And then at last cast up the magic liver from his mouth. + This was the end of all his woe, for when that loathsome thing + Had left his body he arose all strong and purged and clean + And never more was known to seek to practise magic arts. P. + +[Illustration] + + +FOOTNOTES: + +[49] Long ago the Indians believed there were wizards. + + + + + V + + THE PʾMULA OR AIR-DEMON + + [_Abenaki_] + + _Noñwat agua ni alnoñbak pʾmigowak kʾpiwi._[50] + + +[Illustration] + + In days of yore some Indians were camping in the woods + And one of them when near a stream heard a strange sound o’erhead. + At once he looked and lo he saw a sprite of upper air, + Called by the Indians, Pʾmûla, alighting on a ledge. + + The demon took a piece of yellow metal from his lips + And bent himself to drink and then, restoring to his mouth + The metal, spread his spacious wings and, rising, soared away. + The man perceived that power to fly lay hidden in this charm, + And so at once decided he would steal the thing away. + It was not long before he heard again the rush of wings. + This time, though, when the demon had alighted, he ran forth, + And, snatching up the yellow charm, said, laughingly: “Ha, ha, + My friend, do thou lie there a while, and I will fly about!” + Then the Pʾmûla told the man: “If thou wilt let me go, + I’ll give to thee another charm which aye will bring thee luck.” + The Indian at once believed the demon’s given word + And gave him back the yellow charm which brings the power of flight. + Soaring aloft the Pʾmûla at once was lost to view + But after a brief period returned and gave the man + The two great eye-rings of a snake, and once again was gone. + No sooner had the hapless wight these eye-rings in his hands, + Than every kind of snake and beast that roam the northern woods + Surrounded him, till, terrified, he rushed to his canoe. + E’en there a giant serpent’s head confronted him agape. + Then, quite beside himself with fear, he fled to thickest wood, + And when at length all out of breath and weary with the chase + He had to pause, he saw that still a host of snakes was there. + Then suddenly he thought: “This dread comes from the magic rings.” + + So, raising up a heavy stone, he laid them safe beneath. + And there they lie unto this day all full of mystic power. + The Indian then ran away and saw no more strange sights, + But ever on his hunts abroad he killed sufficient food, + For all the forest creatures had no fear of him who once + Had had the serpent’s eye-rings from the demon of the air. P. + +[Illustration] + + +FOOTNOTES: + +[50] Long ago some Indians camped in the woods. + + + + + VI + + THE LITTLE BOY KIDNAPPED BY THE BEAR + + [_Penobscot_] + + _Nâwad agua eleʿkza niʿkwop kʾdado kéowun._[51] + + + I am going to tell you now what happened long ago. + Some Indians were camping with their children near a lake + And one fair morning started off to hunt the wary moose, + The children left alone in camp, as is the Indian way. + On that same day a little lad who scarce could walk unhelped, + Tottered and crawled away from camp until he lost the path + And passed the cold and bitter night afar out in the bush. + When morning dawned he thought he saw his mother drawing near + And, rushing to her side, he held her fast in firm embrace. + This was a she-bear, shaggy, great and strong as oxen twain. + She seized the lad and bore him off and fed him in her den. + When the old folk returned to camp they sought the boy in vain. + + [Illustration: + This was a she-bear, shaggy, great and strong as oxen twain, + She seized the lad and bore him off.] + + For ten full days, all day and night, they sought the boy in vain. + At last they broke up camp and, sorrowing, went back unto their + town. + All winter long the baby lay warmed by the sleeping bear + And drawing nourishment at need forth from her milky teats-- + A wonder this, and quite unlike the usual way of bears. + But this one was a wizard bear who wished to keep the lad. + When spring-time came, the wizard of the little Indian town + Took twenty men and started off to seek the long-lost lad. + He had found out by secret arts the way to his abode. + When they arrived, the furious bear rushed forth in anger dire + But met her death by magic shot, and thus the boy was saved; + He ran away, but soon was caught and to his kind restored, + But during many years that lad was wild as any bear. P. + + +FOOTNOTES: + +[51] I am going to tell you of what happened long ago. + + + + + VII + + THE WIZARD AND THE CHRISTIAN PRIEST + + [_Abenaki_] + + _Askua ali wigiidit waʿkasimigʾzowak + Salaʾki agua ni wijiganun kigamʾwinno._[52] + + + A priest of God came to an Indian town + And settled there to teach the people truth, + Which some received and others spurned with scorn. + Some hostile Mohawks fell upon that town, + Killing the folk, all save the Priest and one, + An Indian of many magic gifts. + + Late in the afternoon of that same day + The Mohawks reached their village with these two: + The holy Priest and Wizard skilled in craft. + The Mohawks held a council by the fire + Discussing how to torture best the twain, + So as to see their frenzy, and enjoy + With gloating satisfaction every pain. + They all agreed to heat two earthen pots + On fiery coals unto the whitest heat; + Then place these pots upon the head of each + And watch them dance about till life was spent. + + With merry whoop they started up the fires; + Began at once to heat the torture pots. + Soon, when they thought the glow was great enough, + They first of all laid hands upon the Priest. + Then he who had been taken with the Priest + At once brought all his magic arts to bear, + And burst his bonds asunder with a yell + That curdled every heart among the foe. + The Wizard cried in Indian tongue: “_Nda + Awâni niûna ndelima-- + Magahôûnana_,” which means: “My friends, + We shall not torture any one (to-day).” + And then he leapt upon the fiery coals + And danced and danced, until his feet did fry + And sizzle hot like bacon in a pan. + Then all the Indians were full of fear. + But when to crown the horror of the whole + They saw the wizard put the glowing pot + On his own head and leap about in glee, + They all took flight in terror to the woods. + Then spake the Wizard: “Father, now escape.” + + When they had reached all safe and sound their home, + The Priest said to the Wizard: “O my son, + Thou shouldst repent and turn thee from thine art + Unto God’s ways and ever keep the Faith.” + Then quoth the Wizard laughing: “Father mine, + Had I repented and mine art eschewed, + Then were we both of us dead men this day.”[53] P. + + +FOOTNOTES: + +[52] A priest came to where some families were camping. + +[53] This song is very interesting, as indicating a survival of the +old Indian faith in their magicians as superior to Christian power. +It is quite like the many indications in Italian tales, relating to +witches, in which the sorcerer conquers the priest.--C. G. L. + + + + + VIII + + WIZARD WARFARE + + [_Abenaki_] + + _Noñwat nd-odananok + Mʾsalok mdaulinʾwak._[54] + + + Long, long years ago + When wizards were not few + There happened near our town + A war of which I’ll tell. + One day a wizard wise + Sought counsel from the gods, + And entered in the hut + They knew as _petegwîgun_-- + A round-house made of bark, + With opening above; + No door nor window there + Save only at the top + Through which the wizard climbed, + And, lying there in trance, + Saw all the foemen’s wiles. + Then, singing magic songs, + Forth from that hut he came + And ordered all the tribe + To rise and meet the foe, + The cruel Mohawk foe, + Encamped not far away. + So all the Indian braves + Embarked in their canoes, + Went down one stream, then up + Another, paddling soft, + Avoiding any sound. + At last they saw a smoke + Arising far away. + Then spake the wizard thus: + “Do ye all wait me here + And I will go and spy + The numbers of the foe, + Taking with me but one; + Another Indian brave + Who hath the magic gift.” + These wizards then withdrew + Into a thicket’s shade, + Whence suddenly emerged + In beaver’s guise the one, + In muskrat form his friend. + When they drew very near + The island where the foe, + The cruel Iroquois, + Were feasting on a moose, + The beaver and the rat + Dived deep beneath the stream, + Causing that sudden plash + Which even to this day + Makes many a hunter jump. + Among the Iroquois + Another wizard sat + And when he heard the plash + Quoth he: “The foe is there, + The fierce Abenakis.” + Then, grasping in his hand, + The legbone of a moose, + He flung it straight and far + To where the muskrat swam + And struck him on the head. + The beaver seized his friend + And drew him ’neath the stream + And held him till he drowned, + In order that his pains + And struggle for his life + Should not alarm the foe. + The Iroquois then rose + And danced around the fire + Thinking in hideous glee + Of how when morrow came + They’d torture all their foes. + + [Illustration: + The beaver seized his friend + And drew him ’neath the stream.] + + They then lay down to sleep. + At once the beaver swam + To shore to their canoes + And gnawed with his sharp teeth + Great holes in the birch bark + Of which these craft were made. + The wizard beaver then + Swam back to his own folk + To whom he said: “Arise, + Come, quickly hunt them out.” + The fierce Abenakis + Came stealthily and still + And landed on the isle + Where lay the Iroquois. + Then, whooping with the cry + Of war which chills the soul, + The fierce Abenakis + Awoke the Iroquois + Who, paralyzed with fright, + Rushed straight to their canoes + Which sank in mid-stream all-- + The work of wizard teeth. + + Then the Abenakis + Swooped down with horrid cries + And then slew all their foes + Save only two. I’ll tell + What ’twas they did to them. + Of all their slaughtered foes + They first cut off the heads + And stuck them up on stakes + All over that fair isle. + Then to their prisoners + Whom they had saved alive, + They gave a little thought. + So first they bound them fast + Then pried with cruel sticks + Their mouths till open wide; + Cut off their lower lips, + Showing the grinning teeth, + Then severing half their ears + And half their noses too, + They said to them in scorn: + “_Kdihleba nda mina + Ni nojimigahakw_:” + “We warn you now, my friends, + Do not attempt again + To come against us here.” + This was the way they marked + The prisoners in old days. + + Then they gave them food + Enough to give them life + Upon the journey home, + In order that these maimed + And harshly usèd foes + Should tell the Iroquois + In northern forest far + That the Abenakis + Were mightier than they. + + That island to this day + Is called the Place of Skulls, + Wdupsek in our tongue. P. + + +FOOTNOTES: + +[54] Long ago there were many wizards in our town. + + + + + IX + + THE WIZARD’S HUNTING + + [_Abenaki_] + + _Noñwat mʾzi mʾdaulinowak nadialoldowak._[55] + + + In ancient days when wizard power was great + There were two mighty men who knew these arts + And understood full well unholy skill. + Once on a time it chanced that these great twain + Did quarrel for a certain hunting ground. + The one had set up deadfalls in the paths + Where run the timid deer, all ignorant + Of man, and man’s desire to slaughter them. + The other wizard straightway came along + And, ruthless, snapped these deadfalls every one, + To irritate his fellow wizard’s heart. + Twice did the mischief-maker do this deed, + Till, finally, the injured man bethought + Him that he must consult the secret powers + How he should catch and punish well the foe. + So crawling into _petegwîgun′s_ shade-- + This was the magic round-house where the gods + Give wisdom unto man--he lay in trance + Until he saw a cruel wolverine, + Which he at once knew well to be the foe. + Then, leaping from the house of magic arts, + He followed fast the trail of Wolverine + Who was the evil-hearted enemy. + This mischief-making wizard straightway knew + That he was being followed, so he changed + Himself into a hooting, snowy owl + That wakes the echoes of the forest night. + Thus he escaped and forthwith went again + And full of glee the other’s deadfalls broke. + At last the injured wizard in despair + Went to consult his uncle in the glade + Where hang the alders drooping by the stream. + “O Uncle, aid me in my direst need + And find for me this rascal foe,” he cried, + “Who changes into every living thing, + And thus escapes my burning righteous wrath.” + His uncle was a wizard full of power, + So he at once departed for a time + And then, returning, said: “I’ve found thy foe, + He lives within thy shanty in the woods, + He’s taken his abode within the cracks + Where thou hast sewn the bark upon thy roof.” + “How then shall I be able to outwit + A foe so wily and so full of skill?” + The nephew asked. The uncle told him all. + And then the injured wizard went his way + Unto his barken shanty in the woods. + + When he was sitting by the fire that night + An evil bat of monstrous size flew forth + From underneath the shanty’s sloping roof. + Straightway the wizard seized and held the bat + So close unto the glowing fiery coals + That all his filthy, vermin-reeking hair + Was clean consumed--then let him fly away, + Feeling that vengeance had been wreaked full well. + No more thereafter was there mischief wrought + And all his hunting met with fortune fair. + Then later in the year the wizard came + Home to the village laden down with spoils + And trophies of the chase, and there he saw + A man he knew with skin all scarred and burned. + Quoth this one to the wizard: “O my friend + I have been duly punished for my sin. + Do thou now heal me quickly and forgive + That I have caused thee trouble in the chase.” + The wizard then took pity on his foe + And healed his burns and made him whole again. P. + + +FOOTNOTES: + +[55] Long ago all the wizards used to hunt. + + + + + X + + SIX SHORT TALES OF WITCHCRAFT + + [_Passamaquoddy_] + + _Kʾchi Joe Benoit mʾdeaulin + Kʾchi kʾnokwchil pohégunul._[56] + + + Old Joe Benoit, a friend of mine, + Was full of all unholy skill and power. + He quarrelled with a man who like himself, + Was wizard and a guileful, crafty foe. + A giant turtle’s form Joe Benoit took; + The other changed himself into a snake; + The twain then met and fought in combat dire + Within the waters of a little lake + Which since that time has ever borne the name + Of Neʿseyik, which means “the muddy lake,” + Because their strife had stirred up all the soil + And weeds, and roiled the waters of that pool. + Joe Benoit slew his foe, the giant snake. + + * * * * * + + Old Lacote was a wizard made a trap, + A deadfall trap for bear off in the woods. + When he had set the trap all fast and firm, + He crawled within to test the prop-stick stout. + But by the magic arts of wizard foe + Through old Sabatis’ guile who owed him hate, + The prop-stick fell and let the great bear-trap + Drop full upon old Lacote’s head and back. + His son was there and dragged the old man forth. + But Lacote knew to whom he owed ill-luck. + + * * * * * + + When I was fifteen years I saw a man + Who had become a demon of the wood, + A Miʿkumwess with power to change his size + And art to sink into the rocky soil + Up to his ankle-joints or knees as though ’twere sand. + I saw myself the tracks where he had sunk + Into a soil all full of rocks and roots. + + * * * * * + + My father was a wizard and had power + To call unto his partner miles away. + I’ve often heard him singing in the night + All low and weird, and when the morning dawned, + He’d tell me what his partner’s luck had been. + I never knew his magic skill to fail. + + * * * * * + + My brother told me, many years ago, + Some wizards had a quarrel, and they slew + One of their number, took his corpse away + And ate it on the isle of Grand Manan, + Sitting upon a ledge above the sea. + + * * * * * + + Two men were hunting on an inland lake + When suddenly they heard a fearful whoop + As of a man in agony, who ran + Adown the lake along the farther shore. + They went out in their barque and there they saw + Him come right up to where their shanty lay. + Returning to the shore they begged him then: + “Pray stay and eat,” but he, with accents wild, + Cried: “Nay, I may not stop in this warm place. + I must away, away unto the North, + Where ice and snow shall cool my bounding blood.” + This man was a Kiwaʿkw, a demon ghoul, + Ice-giant--of that race which loves to prey + Upon the tender flesh of man and babe. P. + +[Illustration] + + +FOOTNOTES: + +[56] Old Joe Benoit the wizard changed himself to a great turtle. + + + + + XI + + A DELAWARE YOUTH AND HIS UNCLE + + [_Delaware_] + + _Weekwaum lawee kohpee + Weekena withkeelno wauk wʾsheetha._[57] + + + Afar in the midst of the forest + Dwelt a youth and his uncle, + His uncle of many summers. + Once on a time the old man + Was sick unto death with an illness + Whose cause was unknown to himself + And his nephew, his fond loving nephew. + So, thinking the light of his being + Was soon to go out, the old uncle + Called to his bedside the young man + To hear his last words of affection. + The loving nephew grievèd, + Grieved in the depths of his heart, + Then thought to himself: “My dear uncle, + At least shall not die on bare earth. + I’ll make for him now a great basket + And line it with soft, downy feathers. + So shall he die in all comfort.” + He worked all the night at the basket + And then, when the morrow dawned, + Presented his work to his uncle + Who wept tears of gladness and said: + “Dear nephew--how great is thy kindness!” + The old man then lay in the basket + And to him came a vision of dread; + He stretched forth his hand to his nephew, + A gesture to draw his attention, + And then told the youth of his vision. + Quoth: “Some one is coming at midnight + From whom thou shalt shrink with great trembling, + But fear not, take courage, my nephew, + Although he shall come to our wigwam + At midnight when all things are sleeping.” + + That night, long after their supper, + The youth sat him down by the fire, + On the further side of the fire,[58] + And waited to see what was coming. + Then all of a sudden a creature + Too awful to tell of was with him, + A wizard of hideous presence + Who dropped through the smoke-hole a-shrieking: + “Give up to me, youth, thine old uncle + I wish to devour his lean flesh.” + The youth gave not way to his terror + But leapt to his feet and said boldly: + “Foul being, mine uncle remains here + And ne’er shall be eaten by thee.” + Howled the wizard, the cannibal wizard: + “When I come here once more have him ready, + Rash lad, or thou dearly shalt rue it.” + + Thought the youth in his heart: “He is awful. + It must be that my uncle shall leave me. + I will journey afar toward the sunset + If perchance I may find there some people + Who shall aid me in this my dire need.” + Then the young man took leave of his uncle + And said to him: “Fear not, beloved, + I go to seek aid for thy sickness, + Soon I’ll return to thy side.” + + After journeying days through the forest + He passed a small curious wigwam + From which came a lad who addressed him: + “Hail, stranger, how fareth thine uncle?” + The youth was amazed beyond measure + That one who appeared but an infant + Should know all about his affairs, + But he passed on in silence and wonder. + Soon after he came to a wigwam + Near which stood a great, kindly wizard, + Who saw from the face of the traveller + That he was in fear for his uncle. + + Then when he heard how the nephew + Had met with the terrible being, + He said: “This in truth is Muttóntoe, + Muttóntoe, the spirit of evil, + Who yearns for the flesh of thy kinsman. + But fear not, my lad, I will aid thee, + I’ll tell thee the way to o’ercome him.” + + When the nephew had heard all the wisdom + And learned how to conquer Muttóntoe, + He went back at once to his uncle. + Then after they’d eaten that evening, + He swept up the dirt from the wigwam + And placed in his own bed the uncle. + Then _he_ lay himself in the basket, + Where he felt himself filled full of magic + And power to conquer Muttóntoe. + At the dead hour of midnight + Once more in the midst of the wigwam + The monster dropped down through the smoke-hole. + “Awake, lad,” quoth he, “I’m Muttóntoe. + Bring forth thine old uncle, I want him.” + Then out from the basket the nephew + Stept boldly, all covered with feathers. + A terrible sight to Muttóntoe, + Who leapt with a shriek through the smoke-hole + And never returned to that wigwam, + Where the youth and his uncle, still living, + Dwell happily in the dark forest. P. + + +FOOTNOTES: + +[57] In a wigwam in the forest dwelt a youth and his uncle. + +[58] The fire is in the middle of the wigwam. + + + + + XII + + THE DANCE OF OLD AGE + + [_Passamaquoddy_] + + _Piʾche uskichinwi utenesizek._[59] + + + All in the early time + In an inland village + Many Indians lived, + Of two of them I’ll tell: + One was a handsome man, + Young, brave, a great hunter; + The other, a beautiful girl. + + What might be her name?-- + Malikakusquess? + Or Kaliwahdasi? + I do not remember + Which of the two it was. + But she was very proud, + Fierce as she was fair, + And through and through revengeful. + And, what was worst of all, + She was an awful witch, + Seven witches in one, + Like seven devils united + But this she hid from all; + Only the Wʾnagʾmeswuk, + The singular silent spirits, + Who are ever flitting around us, + Knew of this terrible secret. + + She wanted the youth to wed her, + But he at that time was busy, + Very busy in getting ready + To go on his autumn hunt, + Which would last far into the winter; + And he had no time for wooing, + As he very plainly told her. + + Truly he must have spoken + Very plainly indeed; + For her heart shrunk up in anger + Until ’twas hard as a flint + With sharply cutting edges, + And thus she cut in reply: + “You may go afar to the North, + You may go if you like on your hunt + But you never will return + The same as when you departed; + Remember me when the change + Comes over you in the forest.” + + He gave no heed to her words, + He cared not for her, nor feared her, + So he went away with his brother, + And for many days together + They hunted in the North, + Hunted the deer and moose; + The girl was all forgotten. + + But one day when deep in the woods, + And very far in the North, + In the mid winter gloom, + The youth went raging mad, + For the witch had struck him sore, + Though far and far away, + Struck him with sorcery. + + The elder brother with him + Was a brave among the braves, + A fierce and terrible man + Who had no dream of fear: + And as he could do naught else + He did the most desperate deed + Which the wildest of the warriors + Among the Wabanaki + Has ever dared to do; + For he went down to the river + At midnight and alone, + And sang the terrible song + Which calls the Wîwilmekw, + The Demon of the Worm, + Even to devils a terror. + + _Nil nʾwikwima Wîwilmekw + Nil nʾwikwima chipinaʿkwsit + Nit besq weshʾmʾwit + Nil npechikinapin nekmomeswelas_ + + “I call on the Wîwilmekw, + I call on the Terrible One, + On the One with the Horns, + I dare him to appear!” + + It came in all its horrors, + Its eyes were like deep red fire, + Its horns rose sharp and high. + It asked him, what he would have? + He answered that his brother + Had lost himself in madness, + And he fain would cure the youth. + + “I will give you what you want,” + Answered the Wîwilmekw, + “If you are not afraid.” + + “I have no fear at all,” + The Indian replied, + “Of anything that lives.” + + “Hast thou no fear of me?” + The Demon Worm inquired. + + “No more of thee than I + Have of the Michihant, + Who is the Devil of all.” + + “If you dare take me by + My horns,” the fiend replied, + “And scrape them with your knife, + And lay the scrapings by, + Then you may have your wish.” + + In truth this Indian was + As savage, wild and brave, + As was the Devil himself; + He had great need indeed + To be all that he was; + For the Wîwilmekw, + Most terrible to see, + Grew fiercer than before, + Yet the man drew out his knife + And boldly scraped away, + Until the Demon said: + “Now hold! You have enough.” + + “And now go seek your camp, + Put half the scrapings then + Into a cup half full + Of water from the spring, + And bid your brother drink!” + “And with the other half?” + The Indian inquired. + “Keep that till you return, + Then give it to the girl + Who made the trouble--she + Needs medicine as well.” + + So the man returned to camp + And made his brother well. + And when the hunt was o’er + They turned them to their home. + + There they arrived at night; + A great festivity + Was stirring all the town, + Torches were everywhere, + And everywhere the scent + Of _mskîkwul wʾli-mhaskil_, + Which is the perfumed grass + Burning intensely sweet. + + The dance was going on, + So, many were athirst. + And this the hunter knew, + The younger of the pair; + So he had made a drink + Cool, and with honey sweet, + Fragrant with pleasant herbs-- + A dainty drink indeed-- + But, mingled with it all, + There lurked a subtle life, + The powder from the horn + Of the Wîwilmekw. + So thirsty was the witch + As she from dancing came, + So warm that, when the youth + Held out to her the cup, + She seized and drank it dry + All without giving heed + As to what hand had held + The cool, refreshing draught; + Then turning to the one + Who was her partner, she + Went on into the dance, + And then a wondrous thing + Was seen by all therein: + For lo! at every turn + The maiden older grew, + One year for every round; + Beginning as a girl + In all her freshest youth + She at the lodge’s end, + Seemed fifty years of age, + And still, as she danced on, + Added unto her age, + Till just as she returned + Unto the very place + Whence she had come, she fell + All dead upon the floor, + A little dried-up thing, + A wrinkled, wizened squaw, + A thing of the last old age + Or of a hundred years. + + [Illustration: + She seized and drank it dry + All without giving heed + As to what hand had held + The cool, refreshing draught.] + +There is another Passamaquoddy version of this poem which is hardly +less striking in its ending. The brother, having obtained the +scrapings of the horn, merely touches with them a large green beech +tree which becomes dead in an instant and then falls to the ground, +actually rotten as if it were a century old. And, when the same +powder is given to the witch, + + She grew older in an instant, + She became very old indeed: + A pale color rippled + All over her face. She fell, + Looking a hundred years, + Dead upon the floor. + Shrivelled and dried as she fell, + Then dropped to powder--“She + Will trouble you no more.” + Then said the conjurer; + “Her dance is over now.” L. + +[Illustration] + + +FOOTNOTES: + +[59] Long ago in an Indian village. + + + + + XIII + + A TALE OF THE RIVER-ELVES + + [_Abenaki_] + + _Noñwat Manoñuamasak + Udainoñ kwaʿliwi kd-odana-na._[60] + + + Long ago some River-elves were living near our town. + These Elves would always work at night along the river shore, + And fashion little wheels of clay and leave them on the bank. + When these small cakes of clay were fresh some Indians there were + Who learned to eat them and to take great pleasure in their taste. + In ancient times--this is the tale which oft was told to me-- + An Indian and squaw were out afar in bark canoe + When in the current’s swirling waves they right before them saw + A wee canoe in which there sat two children, as they thought. + Now these were hideous River-elves, and when they had beheld + The Indians, they called to them: “O ye of fairer face + And better looks go back,” and then tipped over their canoe, + Which, as it rolled, the Indians perceived to be of stone, + And nevermore thereafter did they see the River-elves, + Who when the loud-voiced Whites had settled all the country-side, + Withdrew far up the rushing stream where no canoe may pass + Save only stone ones. Nor again did ever Indian find + Those wheels of clay which he of old so dearly loved to eat.[61] + P. + +[Illustration] + + +FOOTNOTES: + +[60] Long ago the River-elves were around our town. + +[61] This song clearly indicates “earth-eating” among the Indians. It +still exists among negroes in the United States. + + + + + PART THIRD + + =Lyrics and Miscellany= + + + + + LYRICS AND MISCELLANY + + + + + I + + THE SONG OF LAPPILATWAN, THE SINGER IN THE DUSK + + _Piʿche Lappilatwan mechimiu-olamto + Wʾtagwsiu-ut msiu sipsis._[62] + + + Lappilatwan, fair tree-fungus, + From days of old, + The ever good-natured, + Of all the birds cousin. + Dwelt on the birch-tree; + All the birds of the forest, + Even the little insects, + Even the little worms, + Crawled up the great birch + To see their good friend. + + Thus always at sunset + They heard him singing: + _Lappilatwan + Wappilatwan + Wechkutonébit_, + “Fair tree-fungus, + Fair tree-fungus, + Sits with mouth open,” + The signal song + Unto all wood birds, + Worms and insects, + To go to sleep; + So that all the birds, + Little worms, little insects, + When they heard + _Lappilatwan + Wappilatwan_ + Knew he was silent + For all the night + There where he hung + In the cold birch tree, + Cold, rough and damp, + All night, all day! + All through the year. + But when the day dawns + His song rings again; + _Lappilatwan + Wechkutonébit_, + “Fair tree-fungus + Fair tree-fungus + Sits with mouth open.” + Then every bird + Every small insect, + All creeping things + Who heard his song, + Knew there was coming + A beautiful day: + “Let us arise! + The daylight is breaking!” + They rose at his call. + + One bright fresh morning, + Lively Sexkâtû + The flying squirrel + Climbed the great birch-tree, + And there he found + Lappilatwan + From a branch hanging, + And he thus spoke; + “Tell me how long + Have you dwelt here?” + “I have lived in this tree + Since your great grandfather + _Kʾchî Kʾmûsums_ + Was born on that cedar + From which you came + Early this morning.” + + “But tell me truly, + Lappilatwan, + How long will you + Dwell in this birch-tree?” + + “While the birch-tree + Sends forth its leaves, + While its trunk stands, + I will dwell in its branches.” + Sexkâtû the squirrel + Wanted that birch-tree + For his own home: + He would be nesting + In that same place. + Thus he then answered: + “You have been here + Long--and far _too_ long. + It is time for you + To yield to another: + Let me come here!” + + Lappilatwan + Answered him quietly: + “_Noses_, ‘my grandchild:’ + I cannot go hence. + If I should do so + Birds and the insects + Could not hear me call. + Could not hear my songs + From another tree; + You, who are so clever, + Far quicker than I am. + You can make your home + All over the forest.” + + “You must go!” said Sexkâtû, + Then he gnawed at the branch; + There was the nest + Of the Hamw[´ĕ]sŭk, + Of the stinging wasps, + Who came swarming out + From their little wigwam; + More than a hundred, + Flew at Sexkâtû + Clung to his back + Madly they stung him, + Till stunned with their stinging + Saucy Sexkâtû + Fell to the ground. + Well nigh a-dyin, + With stings and with bruises. + + Ere long the news spread, + Soon all the squirrels + Said: “_Sexkâtûwuk + Kʾputwusin_,” + “Let us take council.” + Red squirrels, gray squirrels, + Striped squirrels, flying ones, + Came running together, + Then they cried out: + “Lappilatwan + Must leave his tree, + And if it may be, + Be put to death!” + + All in a band + They went to the birch-tree, + Then they observed that + In one way only + Could they approach + Lappilatwan. + Straight up the trunk + Not many together. + +[Illustration] + + The news spread afar, + Soon there came flying + The wasps and the hornets, + The bees and the black flies, + The angry mosquitoes: + Even the midges, + The little Chessúyek + Came to the rescue + Of Lappilatwan. + The chief of the squirrels + Gave out the order: + “Let the battle begin!” + The squirrels rushed onward + They rushed to the birch-tree: + Yet only a few + At once together + Could climb up the trunk: + Musesaaqua, the horse-fly, + Was brave in that battle. + Mosquitoes and midges + Like gallant warriors + Rushed on the squirrels, + With their sharp spears. + Ere the first squirrel + Was half-way up the birch-tree, + He and his followers + Fell to the ground + Wounded and dying. + + Lappilatwan + High up on the birch-tree + Saw the battle rage, + But was ever silent, + Silent till sunset; + Then his loud song + Rang through the forest: + “_Lappilatwan + Wechkûtonébit_.” + “Fair tree-fungus + Sits with mouth open.” + + Soon as they heard it + All of the warriors, + Squirrels and insects + Valiant mosquitoes, + Humble hornets, + Bold bumble-bees, + Wild whizzing wasps, + Gallant merry midges + Went to their wigwams. + Lappilatwan + Had faith in his warriors: + Truly he trusted + That they could defend him. + + When in the morning + They heard the signal, + The song of awaking, + Ring from the birch-tree, + The mighty armies + Again assembled; + The chiefs held council; + Thus spoke Sexkâtû + While all were silent: + + “Listen, oh squirrels! + Last night in dreaming + This was revealed to me: + If in the battle + One of your warriors + Can touch for an instant + Lappilatwan + Ever so lightly, + Before he sings us + The summons to sleep, + Then we shall conquer; + Failing to touch him + Ere we hear ringing + ‘_Lappilatwan + Wappilatwan_’ + We are defeated. + Now you have heard me, + On to the birch-tree!” + + The angry flies + Sharpen their spears; + Dip them in poison; + Loud was their buzz! + + As they went to battle, + Terrible slaughter + Followed their onrush; + Desperate squirrels + Heedless of death + Clung to the birch-tree + Wingèd warriors + By many thousands + Swarmed on the foe; + Many a horse-fly + Beheld no more + His wife and children; + Many a hornet + Sat no more + By the fire of his wigwam; + The dying bumble-bee + Chanted his death song. + + Dire was the slaughter, + Full thrice greater + Than on the first day; + Still they rushed onward, + Fiercer for battle, + Giving no heed + That the day was ending; + Never observing + The sun down-sinking, + When over the forest + Rang loud the summons: + “_Lappilatwan + Wappilatwan_.” + + All was over. + High on the birch-tree + Untouched by a foeman-- + Sat the watchman-- + The flies were victorious! + +This poem is like Homer’s Batrachomyomachia, the battle of the frogs +and mice, as sung by some Icelandic bard. The humor is as Greek as +the form is Norse. L. + + +FOOTNOTES: + +[62] Long ago, Lappilatwan, always good-natured, was cousin of all +the birds. These lines indicate the measure to which the whole was +sung; _i.e._, they are a “staff-rhyme.” + + + + + II + + THE STORY OF NIPON THE SUMMER + + [_Passamaquoddy_] + + _Piʿche weligit ēpit + Liwiha Nipon + Metchimiû wikos + Kwihio kizosek._[63] + + + In the far old time + Lived near the sun + A beautiful woman, + Nipon her name. + Green were her garments + All of fresh leaves. + And with green leaves + And beautiful flowers + She covered her wigwam. + + She had a grandmother, + Kʾmēwun, the rain, + Who dwelt far away. + But when she came + To visit her grandchild + One thing she ever + Said ere she left her: + “One thing I bid thee + With hardest warning, + To one thing I bind thee + With a strong will: + Look that thou never + Seek in thy wandering + The Laʿtogwesnuk, + The land of the North: + For there dwells Pûn, + Pûn, the winter; + A deadly foe + Thou wilt surely find him. + Should thy feet fall + In the Laʿtogwesnuk + Thy beauty will leave thee, + Thy green dress fade, + Hair turning gray + Thy strength become weakness.” + + Little heed + And scant attention + Gave Nipon + To Kʾmēwun, the rain. + One fair morning + She sat by her wigwam + In the bright sunshine, + And looking afar + At the Laʿtogwesnuk + All that she saw + Seemed strangely lovely + As if enchanted. + No human being + Was in the Northland, + But o’er it all + Was beautiful sunshine; + There she beheld + At a long distance + A wonderful land: + Broad shining lakes, + High blue mountains, + Bright rolling rivers + All strange and sweet. + Something came over her, + She knew not what; + A dream or a voice; + There was no help, + She must rise and go. + Must go to the land + Of Laʿtogwesnuk + Unto the Northland. + + Up rose Nipon + Unto the North + Wending her way, + When she heard a voice, + The voice of the Rain + (Though she could not see her), + Kʾmēwun, a-wailing: + “Bide, my daughter! + If thou goest + Unto the Northland + Pûn the winter + Will surely kill thee!” + She heard nothing + Of all the warning, + She could not stay + For a spell was on her; + Ever onward + She went to the North. + + For many days, + For many moons, + Still the sun shone, + Still she saw + The beautiful country + Of mountains and rivers, + Until one day + Nipon noted + That as she followed, + The land went onward, + And as she travelled, + It travelled before her. + + All around her + Was nothing but sunshine. + Stopping a little + To think of the wonder, + She heard a whisper, + The voice of the Rain: + “Stay, my daughter!” + It made her wilful, + She still went onward; + On to the North. + +[Illustration] + + Still the far country + Went on before her, + And something she never + Had known came o’er her-- + She felt the cold! + An unseen power + Now drove her onward; + Will had departed, + Still the mountains + Went on before her; + The green leaves + Of her beautiful garment + Grew yellow and faded, + And were blown away + By the grim wind; + Her long hair + Turned gray and white; + The sun grew dim + And then shone no more; + She was very weak; + The beautiful mountains + Were heaps of snow; + The beautiful rivers + And lakes were of ice-- + All in the North. + + Kʾmēwun, the Rain, + Was sad in her soul. + She looked afar + No smoke was rising + From Nipon’s wigwam: + “She has not returned,” + Said the Rain-mother, + So in her fear + She went to the wigwam. + + All was silent, + The boughs and the flowers + Which covered the wigwam + Were yellow and faded: + “My child!--my child! + Thou art caught at last + By the icy Pûn, + By the wicked winter! + Afar in the North.” + + Straight she called for + Her bravest warriors. + The ever-unseen. + These were their names: + Saunésen the south wind, + Wchîpi the east wind, + With Sĕnusóktun + The warming breeze. + Quickly she cried: + “Hasten away + To the Laʿtogwésnuk, + Fight like heroes, + Use all your power + To rescue Nĭpon + From Pûn, the winter, + Fly to the North!” + + The wind warriors, + The unseen by man, + Flew like lightning + On their long journey. + As they entered + The Laʿtogwesnuk + Pûn the winter + Felt ill at ease; + He called his chieftains: + Great Laʿtogwĕsin + The terrible north wind, + And the wild north-wester, + The chill north-east wind, + With all the frosts + Sleet-spirits, snow-spirits, + And every child + Of the killing cold + Who dwell in the North. + + “Fly!” he cried, + “For our foes are coming! + Up from the Southland, + The home of Summer!” + Even as he spoke + The sweat dropped from him + His face grew thin, + His feet seemed smaller: + “I feel them coming! + Fly to the battle!” + + The mighty wind-giants + Flew to the fight, + Great snow-flakes + And heavy hail-stones + Met and melted + With the great rain-drops; + Winds were loud roaring, + Thunder pealing, + Tempest fighting tempest, + Storm against storm; + The drops of sweat + Grew ever bigger + On Pûn’s cheeks; + On Nipon’s head + The hair grew whiter; + Louder and louder + The winds were blowing, + Snow was falling, + Thicker and thicker, + But the driving rain + And the mild south winds + Were ever warmer + And bigger the drops + Grew on Pûn’s face; + His strength had left him. + Down he fell + And in his falling + A leg was broken: + + “Lo, I must perish + If this lasts longer, + Set Nipon free! + She it is + Who has brought this trouble + And made this battle. + By my own prisoner + I have been conquered. + Set Nipon free!” + + At the word spoken, + Even in the instant, + The winds were silent. + Snow and rain ceased. + Turning her back + To the Laʿtogwesnuk + And Pûn the winter, + Weary Nipon + Set out on her journey. + Old she was, old + As she bore from the North + In her white hair + The hue of its snows, + In her tottering weakness + Its chilling frosts. + Many moons passed, + Still she travelled; + The sun grew warmer, + Days and shadows + Were ever longer; + The air was softer; + Greener and greener + Grew the mountains; + Freer from ice + Rivers were rushing; + Lakes were shining + In the sunlight; + Flowers were unfolding + To the warm breezes. + + Weary Nipon + Was weary no longer; + Her heart grew lighter, + Her hair grew darker, + Her face was fairer, + Brighter and younger, + Thus becoming + All she had been + In her early beauty. + + Then the butterflies + Knew her again, + And fluttered round her, + And all the flowers + Greeted with perfume + In scent-voices + As she went past. + + On she went + To the grandmother’s wigwam, + To old Kʾmēwun. + As she drew near + The clouds grew thicker; + Rain-winds were blowing, + Rain-drops falling, + Showers pelting, + Torrents pouring, + Thunder roaring round: + Still she went on, + Her path lit + By wild lightning, + Till in the midst + Where the clouds were darkest + She found the wigwam + And entered the door. + There as if dying + Lay Kʾmēwun + The ancient Rain-mother, + Weaker and older, + And worn and weary. + + “Thou, my daughter!” + She said to Nipon, + “Hast well-nigh killed me! + By disobedience + Thou hast brought suffering + On me and all things. + But for my battle + With Pûn the winter + All life had perished: + Never again though, + While life is in me + Can I venture + On such a struggle! + Be this thy warning! + Else will Pûn, + The cruel winter, + Conquer all things + And ice and snow + For ever and ever + Cover the world.” L. + + +FOOTNOTES: + +[63] Long ago a fair woman named Nipon always lived near the sun. + + + + + III + + THE SCARLET TANAGER AND THE LEAF + + [_Passamaquoddy_] + + _Piche yut kʾchî wachok nit wigit welitasit mipis._[64] + + +[Illustration] + + In the earliest time on the greatest mountain + Lived merry Mĭpis, the Little Leaf; + When spring is coming and sunlight is shining + He climbs a tree, and there, all summer, + Dressed in green he rocks in the branches, + Listens all day to the birds and the breezes, + And goes to sleep to the song of the owl. + + When fall is coming and days are shorter, + Mĭpis dresses himself in scarlet; + Glad and gay in the Indian Summer; + But as the nights grow cold and longer, + He puts on a coat of brown or yellow, + Curls himself up like a bear for winter, + Lets go his hold and falls to the ground; + There he sleeps, all under the snow-drift + Till he hears in the spring the blue-bird calling, + And the stream fighting its enemy ice-- + Carrying proudly in pieces as prisoners + The foe which kept it a frozen captive, + All the winter under its wigwam. + Then little Mĭpis, the Leaf, awaking, + Dresses in green and climbs in the sunshine, + Up through a tree, and upon the branches, + Lives as he did the summer before. + + Merry Mĭpis on a bright May morning + Was stretching himself in the warm sunshine + When he heard afar a wonderful music, + A sound like a flute and the voice of a maiden, + Rippling melodies melting in one. + Never before had he heard such singing; + Then looking up he beheld before him + A beautiful merry little bird-girl, + Dressed in garments of brilliant scarlet, + Just like his own in the Indian Summer. + “O fairest of small birds!” said merry Mĭpis; + “Who are you, and what is your name?” + Thus she answered: “I am Squʿtes: + The Little Fire. When I fly in the forest + And meet in my way a bar of sunshine, + I look as I enter and leave the shadow + Like a red flame which leaps up in darkness, + And then falls asleep in the night again. + I have lived in the deep green forest, + Even as you have, for many ages, + Singing my songs to Kʾmûsomsʾn + Unto our Father the mighty mountain, + And because he well loved my music, + For a reward he sent me hither + To seek a youth whose name is Mĭpis, + Whom he wills that I should wed. + And as I think, and hope as I think it, + You are truly the one whom I seek.” + + Little Leaf listened in silence + Being by nature very cunning, + Trained to suspicion from his childhood; + Thus his grandmother ever taught him: + “My child--beware of all living creatures, + Even the very smallest insect + May eat your life out. A worm so little + That it can pass through the prick of a needle + Even as a rabbit runs through a valley, + Or as a fish swims free up a river, + May cut your stem or blight your beauty; + Anything living may be your death.” + + So to Squʿtes, Mĭpis listened, + Charmed with her beauty yet still mistrusting, + Liking her look yet deeply doubting, + Wondering whether this lovely creature + Was truly a friend or a false-hearted foe. + + Beautiful Squʿtes, never heeding + What the Leaf thought, began to warble; + Pouring out in the pleasant sunshine + Her morning song. As Mĭpis listened + To the melodious trill, he melted; + For the sweet tune filled all the forest, + Every leaf on the tree was listening, + Branches were waving in keeping cadence, + Even the busy ants stopped running, + The butterfly sat on a flower to hear; + And as the music grew tender and stronger, + And as in one long soft note it ended, + Little Leaf said to her: “Be my own!” + + So in the greenwood they lived together; + Other singers often assembled, + Other birds were often about them, + Coming to see the beautiful stranger, + Longing to try with hers their voices, + But at every trial the Little Fire + Flew in her melody far above them, + Even as she went beyond them in beauty. + One morning Squʿtes sang to the Leaf: + “Let us go and visit Kʾmûsomsʾn + Our mighty grandfather--the Mountain: + He made us happy--let us thank him!” + So the little Squʿtes and Mĭpis + Went like a flame through the shades of the forest, + Till they came to the cave of the grandsire. + Glad the grandfather was when he saw them! + Thus he spoke unto them--“_Nosesak!_ + Grandchildren! Heed well what I tell you! + While you live never leave the mountain! + While you are here you are always in safety: + But when away from it, ever in danger + From one who is ever seeking to kill you: + The little Indian boy Monimques, + Who, armed with a terrible bow and arrows, + Shoots all the little birds of the forest, + And carries them home to old Monimques, + Who roasts them all in the fire and eats them. + Even worse is another foeman, + A dreadful little boy who is flying + All the time over rivers and valleys, + Aplasemwesit, the Little Whirlwind, + Who never rests. He is always trying + To blow the leaves away from the branches, + And drives them headlong, in flocks together, + To his grandfather the terrible Tempest, + The great wild Whirlwind who kills them all.” + + Taking the Leaf in her bill, the Red Bird + Flew through the forest among the branches + To the great tree which grew secluded + In the safest place in all the mountain. + On its topmost branch they built a wigwam; + Bad little Indians never came near them + Hunting for birds with their bows and arrows, + Nor the wicked whirlwind looking for leaves. + There they lived and were perfectly happy, + Nothing but kind words passed between them, + Only kind words and favorite songs.[65] + + Leaves like men are never contented, + When all’s for the best they never know it; + So it came to pass that Mĭpis one morning + Saw far away in the pleasant sunlight + A land of beautiful lakes and mountains, + Lovelier far than the place they lived in; + And felt in his heart an earnest longing + To wander away. So he said to the Red Bird: + “Look, my dear, at that beautiful country! + There we are sure to be perfectly happy: + I can no longer live here on the mountain!” + + Taking the Leaf in her little bill, + The Red Bird flew over rock and river, + Till she came to the beautiful country; + Again on a tree they built their wigwam, + And Squʿtes sat and sang on the branches: + The little Indian boy Monimques + Never had heard such beautiful singing, + Never beheld such wonderful feathers; + Amazed he stood for a while and listened, + Then bending his bow let fly an arrow. + Down fell the Red Bird, sorely wounded, + And proud of his prey the boy ran homeward. + Then another foe came rushing after, + Aplasemwesit the Little Whirlwind, + Seeing the Red Leaf soon he seized it, + Took it in triumph unto his grandsire + The mighty Storm; when the chief beheld it, + “This,” he said, “is no common capture, + This is the Leaf of the Leaves, my grandson! + He shall not die. I will keep him a prisoner: + He has come from afar. We must guard him with care.” + + Greatly the Storm Chief fears the Mountain + Who stops the wind in its wildest flight. + That night there came a dream to Kʾmûsomsʾn + And he learned that the Leaf had been taken prisoner, + By Aplasemwesit and kept as captive. + Waking in anger he called to his son: + “Go to the chief of the storms and tell him + To send me the Leaf!” His son departed + And when he came to the mighty Whirlwind + Said: “Give me the Leaf! Else, ere the evening + All of our tribe will be on the war path.” + Gladly the Whirlwind gave up his captive, + And the son of the Mountain carried him home. + + Soon the Leaf was safe in his wigwam + On the great tree. He lived in sorrow, + And when the notes of a bird came ringing + Out of the forest, his grief was greater; + His life was gone with the Little Fire, + And the fire of his life was all in ashes. + + Thus it fared with the beautiful Red Bird; + When the old Monimques beheld her, + Long he was silent, then said: “My grandson! + This is truly no common capture! + Well it is that thou didst not kill it! + Let the bird live in peace in our wigwam! + But take good care lest it escape!” + + Day after day the Red Bird grew better + And soon her color was as bright as ever, + Until one morning when least expected, + Her voice broke forth like a brook into sunshine. + These were her words: “Could the Wind but hear me, + I should not long be kept a captive, + Soon he would carry the news to the Mountain! + Soon the Mountain would send a warrior, + Soon the warrior would give me freedom! + Soon I should be with the Leaf again!” + + As the old Monimques heard her singing: + His heart at the words grew weak with fear: + “Truly it was a bad beginning + That ever my grandson shot this singer, + And truly, ’twould have a woful ending, + If the Mountain should learn she is here! + It is madness to keep her a captive, + But certain death if we let her go free!” + + While he thought it over his grandson returned + Bringing a burden of birds of the forest, + And little singers who live by the rivers: + And when they were cooked, and the chief had eaten, + Down by the fire he lay on a bear skin, + Smoking himself into silent sleep. + The door was closed, nor was there a crevice + Through which the Red Bird could creep to freedom + When all at once she thought of the opening + Through which the smoke from the fire ascended + Ever upward so densely pouring + Nobody deemed she would dare to pass it. + + As the head of Monimques drooped on his shoulder + And as the pipe stem dropped from his fingers + And as the little Wʾnagʾmeswuk + The tiny fairies who tap the eyelids, + Soothed him into deepest slumber, + Softly the Red Bird rose and taking + A birchen bucket, filled it with water. + Dipping her wing in the water she sprayed it + Little by little upon the fire; + Little by little the fire, like Monimques + Sunk to sleep, and the bright red flame + Lay down to rest in the dull gray ashes. + Out of the smoke-hole, in careful silence + Flitted Squʿtes, and when far from the wigwam, + In the fresh air and the beautiful sunshine, + Heard other song-birds far beneath her. + As she went flying over the forest, + Leaving death behind, with love before her, + She had never been half so happy. + And what was her joy when she reached the mountain + And saw from afar on the great tree rising + A bright Red Leaf which shone in the sunset; + Straight was her flight as that of an arrow, + Fast as an arrow, when she beheld him. + And the Red Leaf leapt as if smit by an arrow, + When all in an instant her arms were round him. + Then without an instant’s warning + All his darkness was turned to daylight, + And the Red Wing burst into tears of rapture. + + It was long ago, even in the morning + Of the first moons that this all happened; + Trees had not mouldered as yet in the valleys, + To the cold depths of many a river + Fishes as yet had not found their way, + And all the secret roads of the forest + Had not been learned by the bear or woodchuck; + But even then the Squʿtes and Mĭpis + Lived all the summer upon the mountain, + Sung in its shadows and shone in the sunshine + Still as of yore they are singing and shining; + And so it will be while the mountain is there. L. + + +FOOTNOTES: + +[64] Long ago on the big mountain lived the happy little leaf. + +[65] In the original Indian-English version this line is given +as--“Only kind words and popular songs.” + + + + + V + + THE BLIND BOY + + A VERY OLD SONG + + [_Passamaquoddy_] + + _Nit neke epit pʾiche nitwechi moskesits + Poskaniknikok mechinechik etli-poskʿnot._[66] + + + There was a woman, long, long ago, + She came out of a pit + In which dead people were buried; + She made her home in a tree; + She was dressed in leaves; + All long, long ago. + When she walked among the dry leaves, + Her feet were so covered + That they could not be seen; + She walked in the woods + Singing all the time: + “I want company: I am lonesome!” + All long, long ago! + + From afar o’er the lakes and mountains + A wild man heard her cry; + He came to her, she saw him, + Saw him and was afraid; + She tried to flee away, + For he was clothed with the rainbow, + Color and light were his garments. + She ran and he pursued her, + Pursued her rapidly, + Unto the foot of a mountain. + He spoke in a strange language, + She could not understand him. + He would make her tell where she dwelt. + They married and had two children + One of them was a boy, + A boy who was blind from his birth. + But he frightened his mother by his sight; + He could tell her what was coming: + What was coming from afar, + What was near he could not see. + He could see the bear and moose, + Far away beyond the mountains; + He could see through everything. + + The father was a great being, + He was a mighty hunter; + His wife had magic gifts. + A boy was born to them + Alas, the boy was blind! + In time his sight returned, + He said that he could see. + The mother did not believe it, + She thought it was magic sight. + So one day she bade her husband + Put on him certain things + Which no one could behold + Who saw them not with eyes + As every one could see them. + And then she asked the boy + “What is it that your father + Uses to pull his sled?” + Promptly the child replied + “The rainbow.” Then she said: + “What has he for a bow-string?” + To which his answer was + “It is Ketaksuwauʿt + That is the Spirits’ Road” + (Meaning the Milky Way). + Yet once more she inquired: + “What has he on his sled?” + “A beaver,” he replied; + She knew that he could see. + +It would appear from collateral indications of other songs in +different tribes that this song is of very great antiquity. The +first portion of it was chanted to Mrs. W. Wallace Brown by an old +Indian woman; the remainder was recovered from the Passamaquoddy +Thomas Josephs or Tamaquah. There appears to be in the myth, for +such it undoubtedly is, a refinement of philosophic or theosophic +speculation. This is shown in the conception of the young magician, +or poet, so gifted though _blind_ that his mother could not determine +whether he saw all things by _clairvoyance_ or natural vision. L. + + +FOOTNOTES: + +[66] Long ago there was a woman who came out of a pit where dead +people are buried. + + + + + V + + PASSAMAQUODDY LOVE SONG + + ORIGINAL TEXT + + + Anigowanotenu! + Boski ktabin elmi nelemwik + Elmi papkeyik; boski ktlabin, + Anigowanotenu! + + Neket mpesel etli-nemiotyikw. + Etuchi wlinakwben sebayi sibuk; + Etuchi wli baquasketen. + Kʾmachtina nolithasiben. + Mechinoltena keppithamʾl. + Anigowanotenu! + + Boski ktlabin elmi nelemwik + Elmi papkeyik; boski ktlabin, + Anigowanotenu! + + Negetlo he eli-alnisukmekwben + Sibayi guspenik + Etuchi welanakwsititben wuchowek + He eli-machip klamisken mipisel. + Anigowanotenu! + + Anigowanotenu! + Nittloch apch eli-alnisuknukw tan etuch apachyaie; + Tan etuch boski pʾkesik mipisel + Yut pemden nit kʾtlaskuyin. + Anigowanotenu! + Boski kʾtlabin elmi nelemwik + Elmi papkeyik; + Boski kʾtlabin, + Anigowanotenu! + +[Illustration] + + + + + V + + PASSAMAQUODDY LOVE SONG + + + Anigowanotenû! + Oft these lonely days thou look’st + On beauteous river and down shining stream. + Oft thou look’st and sighest deep, + Anigowanotenû! + + With me thy lover by thy side + How fair that stream did bubble on! + How lovely was the silver moon! + Thy heart now tells thee of that joy. + E’en unto death I think of thee. + Anigowanotenû! + + Oft these lonely days thou look’st + On beauteous river and down shining stream. + Oft thou look’st and sighest deep. + Anigowanotenû! + + When we in birch canoe did glide + Together on that glistening lake, + How fair the hills and how we watched + The _red_ leaves whirling in the breeze. + Anigowanotenû! + + Anigowanotenû! + We’ll rove once more in bark canoe + And watch the _green_ leaves swirl on high + When spring smiles on the mountain tops. + Anigowanotenû! + Oft these lonely days thou look’st + On beauteous river and down shining stream. + Oft thou look’st and sighest deep. + Anigowanotenû! P. + +[Illustration] + + + + + VI + + THE SONG OF THE STARS + + [_Passamaquoddy text_] + + + Nilun pesazmuk elintaquik. + Ntʾlintotebin kʾpesaukhenmâgonok. + Nilun sipsizuk squʿtek; + Kʾpʾmitoiapon pissokiqs + Kʾpesaukhenmagon pesazum. + Kʾtʾlintoanen âût niwesquok; + Otâût Kʾchî-Niwesq + Koitchimkononnoak nohowok katonkewinoak, + Nosokoat moinial + Nit mesq tepnaskwiewis + Mesq katonketitiq + Ketlapinen pemtenikek + Yot lintoakʾn pemtenikek. + +[Illustration] + + + + + VI + + THE SONG OF THE STARS + + + We are the stars which sing. + We sing with our light. + We are the birds of fire + We fly across the heaven, + Our light is a star. + We make a road for Spirits, + A road for the Great Spirit. + Among us are three hunters + Who chase a bear: + There never was a time + When they were not hunting; + We look down on the mountains. + This is the Song of the mountains. L. & P. + +[Illustration] + + + + + VII + + HOW THE INDIANS LOST THEIR POWER + + [_Penobscot_] + + _Uskichinwi pilskwessis muiso Ktatnok + Naya kamach okiwachitahasin._[67] + + + All of the olden time! + Once as an Indian girl + Was gathering blue-berries, + On Mount Katahdin’s side, + She felt a strange loneliness, + And said unto herself: + “I would that I were wed + Unto some brave great man!” + And, seeing the great mount + In glory rising high + E’en as ’twere to heaven + (White the red sunlight shone + Upon the very head), + She said: “A man indeed, + Like great Katahdin there! + High rising over all, + That were the man for me.” + This she was heard to say + Ere she went further on + Up to the mountain top-- + Three years then passed away + Ere she was seen again, + And then when she returned + ’Twas with a charming child, + The fairest in the land; + Only one thing was strange: + His eyebrows were of stone. + + She had been wed in truth, + To Mount Katahdin’s self; + The Spirit of the Mount + Had ta’en her to himself, + And when she greatly longed + To see her folk again, + He said: “Then go in peace.” + But one thing he forbade + With terrible command: + That she should ever tell + To any mortal soul + Who ’twas had married her. + + The boy had wondrous gifts; + The sages of the tribe + Said he was soon to be + A mighty sorcerer; + For when he did but point + His finger at the moose, + Or anything which ran, + At once it would drop dead, + Killed by his magic will; + And, when in a canoe + He pointed at the ducks, + The wild fowl swam no more, + And all the water round + Was full of floating game + Which all might gather in, + As freely as they would. + And so it came to pass + That through that wondrous Boy + The mother and her tribe + Had ever food enough. + + Now this is all the truth, + And ’twas a wondrous thing, + As ever yet was told. + Katahdin the great lord + Of the Wabanaki; + The children of the Light, + Or of the Break of Day; + Had wed him to the girl + That she might have a child + Who should raise up the tribe, + And make them great once more + Even a mighty race, + The Lords of all the land. + And so to her he said: + “Declare unto thy folk + That they shall never ask + Of thee, who was the sire + Of this brave lad, our son; + They’ll know it all right well + If they but see his face, + And thou shalt not be teased + By questions and by talk + From fools who fain would know + The by-ways of a god.” + + And so she made it known + That none should question her, + And gave them all their food, + And bade them let her be! + + And truly this was like + The casting oil on fire, + And men and women all + Were raging to inquire + About the mystery, + And ask the wife herself + Who might her husband be? + Though everybody knew + In all the country round. + And though it had been said + That life and death and all + Hung on her telling naught. + + Though what were life or death + To any woman born, + Likewise to many a man, + Compared unto the joy + Of learning that which is + None of their business-- + And tattling it abroad? + + And so they pressed her sore, + Still teasing her to tell, + And giving her no rest + As fools are wont to do. + Until one day, enraged, + She thought: “This passes strength + And I’ll bear it no more. + Truly my lord was right, + These people are too vile, + Too petty and too mean, + For subjects to my son, + He ne’er shall lead them on + To glorious victory! + They are not of the kind + To make a mighty race: + With them it shall be o’er!” + + And as they still kept on + Tormenting, teasing her. + She spoke and said: “Ye fools! + Who fain would kill yourselves + By your own folly, ye + Mud-wasps who sting the hands + Which fain would pluck you forth + When drowning in the pool. + Why will ye trouble me + To tell you what ye know? + When ye keep asking me + ‘Who my boy’s father was?’ + Can ye not plainly see + Katahdin in his brows? + Now it shall be indeed + To your great woe and pain, + And abject misery, + That ever ye did ask + Of what concerned you not. + So now from this day forth, + Ye all may feed yourselves; + For now my boy no more + Will lend his help to you.” + + So she arose and went + Her way into the woods + And up the mountain side, + Leading her little son; + And from that day and hour + Was seen on earth no more. + + And since that time our tribe + With all the Indian folk + Who once might have become + A great and glorious race, + Have dwindled down into + A very little folk. + For when our minds grow small + And gossip is our god, + We must diminish too. + Truly it had been wise + For them of olden time, + And for us too, indeed, + Could they have held their tongues. L. + + +FOOTNOTES: + +[67] Long ago an Indian girl was walking on Katahdin and she felt +very lonesome. + + + + + VIII + + THE PARTRIDGE AND THE SPRING + + [_Passamaquoddy_] + + _Uskitap iaqu bamose kʾchikok + Etuchi nodak metetaguak kequ pichikok._[68] + + +[Illustration] + + A man was walking the woods + When he heard afar a noise + As of footsteps beating the ground. + With a cry as of merry singing; + So he sought to find the people; + ’Twas a week before he found them. + + ’Twas a man and his wife a-dancing + About a tree; on its summit + There sat a great Raccoon, + And by their constant treading + They had worn a trench in the ground-- + Yea, in it, up to their waists. + + And when the stranger in wonder + Asked of them, “What are you doing?” + They answered that being hungry + They were trying to fell the tree, + And bring it down by dancing. + + The stranger said to them: + “Know ye not that another, + A newer and better way + Of felling trees more quickly, + Has come into the land?” + They asked him how it might be. + + Then, while they greatly wondered, + Taking his axe, he showed them + How to cut down trees in a hurry; + But made it a condition + That when the Raccoon should be taken + They might have his meat and eat it, + But the pelt should be his portion. + + So, when the tree had fallen, + And the game became their booty, + The woman tanned the skin + Which was strangely large and glossy + And gave it to the Indian + Who took it and went away. + + Then afar in a path in the forest + He met with another man, + And was greatly amazed at the sight, + Because the other was bearing + A very large birch wigwam, + A dwelling with many rooms. + He never had seen the like, + And at first was in a fright, + But the man, putting down the house, + Burst into a fit of laughter, + And shook him by the hand, + Seeming in faith to be + A downright honest fellow. + Then, while they smoked and laughed, + The man of the house beheld + The skin which the other bore + Of Espuns, the Raccoon, + And said with curious air: + “_He kekw nit?_” “What have you there + The skin of magic power?” + Then the other answering told + How he met the man and his wife + Who danced around the tree: + Whereat the man of the house + Offered to buy the skin + At any price at all, + And offered the house for it. + + Then the other looked it through + And truly he was amazed + To find how many rooms + Were all contained in it, + And what a wondrous store + Of furniture and arms + And kettles and the like + Were stored in every room. + “But oh and alack,” he cried, + “I could never carry this house + As you do, on your head.” + + “You can do it with ease,” replied + _Pilowî wʾskichin_, + That is “the stranger man;” + “Just put it on your head.” + He tried and found it as light + As a _kchi bʾsnŭd_, or + A basket made of birch. + + And so he went his way, + Bearing the magic house + Lightly upon his head, + Till he came to a hard-wood ridge + In which was a bubbling spring; + And here he said: “I will live.” + So searching he found a room + In which there was a bed; + A better he ne’er had seen, + All covered with the skin + Of a snow-white northern bear. + So he laid him down to sleep. + + In the morning when he awoke + What was his wonderment + To see above his head, + All hanging to the beams, + Good food of every kind, + All dainties known to man. + For there were venison, + Bear hams and many ducks, + Buckets of maple sugar, + Others of cranberries, + And many golden ears + Of drying Indian corn. + But as in his delight + He stretched out both his hands + To grasp the tempting food, + The bear-skin, melting fast, + As water ran away-- + For it was but the snow + Which all the winter long + Had gathered o’er his nest. + And as he stretched his arms, + Lo! they were changed to wings! + And up he flew to the food, + Which was the early buds + Of the birch on which they hung. + He was in truth himself + A Partridge who had been + Wintering beneath the snow, + And who in joy came forth + To greet the pleasant spring. L. + + +FOOTNOTES: + +[68] A man was walking in the woods and he heard something far off. + + + + + IX + + LOX, THE INDIAN DEVIL + + [_Passamaquoddy_] + + _Laks uskiehinwi Wahant + Nekŭm mechikit wesis kchikok._[69] + + + Lox the Wolverine, + Is of all the beasts of the forest + Crafty and most ferocious, + Cunning and utterly given + To every kind of mischief. + In all the world of the wood + There is none so utterly evil, + And therefore he is called + By right, the Indian Devil. + + Now it happened on a time, + That Lox, or the Wolverine, + Who had many a time been killed, + And as often rose from the dead + By his sheer force of will-- + The one great gift he had-- + Found himself down in luck, + Yea, very deeply down. + Crossing in bitter winter + A wide and dismal region + Very poorly supplied + For travel of any kind, + The cold wind blew like knives, + Snow fell with sleet and frost, + And hail and pelting rain + All in bad company + Came on him all in one. + + And yet this evil soul + Was reckless through it all + And jolly, for he had + With every devilish vice + One virtue, as I said, + One saving gift, and that + Was, that of all the beasts + Who in the forest dwelt, + Or devils in Hʿlamkîk + (That is the Indian hell), + He had the hardest heart, + Toughest, as all allowed, + And most unconquerable. + He was the first to fight + And last one to give in + (Indeed, he never did + Give in, nor meant to do), + From which it came that he + Was specially admired + By all the blackguard beasts + Who prowled about the woods; + Wherein they differed little + From many among men. + + Now, as of all the rogues, + Rowdies and rascal roughs, + The Wolves are just the worst, + You may right well believe + That ’twas with wondrous joy + Lox heard, as night came on, + Afar a long sad howl, + Betokening the presence + Of a pack of these pleasant folk; + It was music to the ears + Of the Indian Devil, Lox. + + So he lifted up his voice + All in the Wolfish tongue; + For he was deeply learned + In many languages; + And soon was in the midst + Of a score of howling beasts + Of lupine land-loafers, + Who danced and rolled and screamed, + Biting each other for joy + At seeing him again-- + The Indian Devil, Lox. + + And then the eldest wolf + The Sagem or the chief, + Said unto him: “I hope + Thou’lt camp with us to-night; + For truly it is ill + For any gentleman + To be alone where he + Might meet with vulgar beasts!” + And Lox replied as if + He did a favor, all + With condescending air; + And ate their best dried meat, + And took the highest place + Beside their fires, and smoked + The chief’s best _tomawe_, + That is tobacco, from + The chieftain’s choicest pipe; + While all the others grinned + At his tremendous cheek, + To see him put it on-- + The Indian Devil, Lox. + + And when they laid them down + To sleep, the Sagamore + Said to the younger wolves: + “Be sure and cover up + The stranger with your tails.” + But Lox, who thought it was + A blanket made of fur, + Soon threw the cover off, + And then the chief and all + Admired the plucky guest + Who seemed to have no care + Of cold, or for their care; + And little did he care-- + The Indian Devil, Lox. + + Then in the early morn + When he would wend his way, + The Sagem of the Wolves + Said to the Wolverine: + “Oh Uncle--thou hast yet + Before thee three long days + All in a land where there + Is neither house nor hearth, + And thou wilt find it hard + To camp without a fire; + Now by good luck I have + An admirable spell + By which thou canst have fires, + And only three--yet they + Will serve thee to the end-- + This is the way ’tis done: + Build up a pile of sticks, + And then jump over it, + Even as children do, + And thou wilt see it blaze. + This is a sacred charm + Of great antiquity + A secret ’mong the wolves. + Thou art the very first, + Not of our holy race, + To whom it hath been given; + No Gentile knoweth it.” + And so he bade farewell + To the Indian Devil Lox. + + So Lox went trudging on, + Away unto the West; + And, as he went, he thought + Of the great gift of the + Peculiar pious race, + And, wondering to himself + If ’twere not all a flam, + Since ’twas his nature to + Suspect all kinds of deeds, + As he had ne’er done one + Save to some evil end, + And being curious + And very anxious to + Behold some strange new thing, + He said unto himself: + “Tush! I will try it now.” + So piling up some sticks + He bounded over them; + They burst into a blaze. + So all had come to pass + As the Wolf prophesied: + Which greatly did amaze + The Indian Devil Lox. + + So having warmed himself + He went his way with joy, + But very soon observed + That it grew cold again. + The wind blew sharp and shrill, + The snow began to fall, + And Lox began to think + How very nice ’twould be, + And pleasant, to be _warm_. + Now ’tis a curious truth + All very wicked men + Have always _one_ weak spot, + So Lox the Wolverine + Without reflection piled + More sticks together; then + Jumped over them at once. + Up leaped a jolly blaze + As if to dance with him; + This was the second fire + And he had still three nights + Of bitter killing cold, + Ere he could reach his home-- + The Indian Devil Lox! + + And yet this Wolverine + Who was wise in all that’s bad, + Wicked and witty in sin, + Had not indeed gone far + Or out-walked the afternoon, + Before he began to think, + As he shivered and cursed the cold, + Of lighting another fire. + “Ah--hem!” he said, “who knows + But the weather may take a turn + To a thaw, and give us a night + Which _may_ be rather warm! + _Hum! ha!_ Methinks by the look + Of the clouds that the wind may be + South-westerly! I think + I have heard my grandmother say: + That a color such as I see, + Of red in the sky, means something-- + I forget what it is--but it may be + A change for the better--or worse! + Well, I’ll take the chance.” Thus saying, + He piled up the sticks again, + And had a third fire--although + The first night had not come. + But he warmed himself and was happy-- + The Indian Devil Lox! + + [Illustration: + Then gayly jumping over + Awaited the cheerful blaze.] + + Then as it grew dark and darker, + As the coals and sticks grew blacker, + When a fire is dying away, + He came to his camping place, + And then it grew cold in earnest, + A cold to split a flint. + However, Lox the Believing, + Said, “What is good for once + Must surely be good for ever,” + And made up a pile of sticks, + Then gayly jumping over + Awaited the cheerful blaze. + But all in vain, not a sparkle, + Not a hint of anything burning, + Not even a tiny crackle + Came from the silent wood. + But as Lox was persevering, + He hopefully kept on jumping, + Till after some thirty efforts + There arose a little smoke + Which came as if it were angry + At being so frequently called, + And then returned no more. + But Lox to himself repeating + “All smoke has fire behind it,” + Kept bravely at his leaping + Until the Indian Devil + Of madness and desperation + Awoke within his soul, + And he swore by it that he ever + Would keep straight on with his jumping + Till something blazed--or burst! + He himself was almost blazing-- + The Indian Devil Lox. + + So he kept on a-leaping, + But to him there came no comfort, + Not even the glow of a spark; + And being at last aweary + He fell in a swoon on the wood-pile, + And so he froze to death, + And that was the last that winter, + Which was heard of him in the land. + Yet I think in time he recovered, + For since then, he very often + Has appeared among the people-- + Lox, The Indian Devil, + The Indian Devil Lox. L. + + +FOOTNOTES: + +[69] Lox, the Indian Devil, is the worst beast in the woods. + + + + + =L’Envoi= + + + + + L’ENVOI + + + O happy sylvan hours and days of yore! + O quaint old speech which echoes in our ears! + From you we learn our country’s early lore, + The forest people’s sorrows, joys and fears. + So pass in peace, ye simple woodland race! + We may no longer hope to bid you live. + In our mad turmoil ye can have no place, + But we have taken what ye have to give. P. + +[Illustration] + + + + + APPENDIX + + =The Passamaquoddy Wampum Records= + + + + +[Illustration] + + APPENDIX + + THE PASSAMAQUODDY WAMPUM RECORDS + + [This is an emendation of the text published by me in + Proceedings of the American Philosophical Society, xxxvi., pp. + 479 ff. P.] + + +Mechi mieu begokni tohocioltowuk kʾchi ya wioo wʾskitap epitjik +wasisek nespi wʾsikyojik yot mechi mipniltimkil; nit etuch +alit-huswinook negmaoo tepit-hodmotit chewi kegw layoo kegusitch +eliyoek chewi layoo tech na neksayiu. Nit etuchi mʾsioo sise +pʾchittaketil kinwetaswinoo mʾsitte elipitt wʾskichin anquotch +elquiyik sownisnook anquotch wʾchipenook ketkik snoot segdenook +ketkik kʾski yasnook. Pechiote pechiyik Wabnakik.[70] Kʾmach +wʾsipkikmʾn yaka keswook naga wewʾchiyanya nitta tama wejiwetit +wʾtiyawa wʾskichunoo kepechip-tolnen wʾliagnotmagʾn. Nit +ettlowsittgw-ton kisipootwusoo likislootemook. Mʾsitte tekepitt +wʾskichin kinwetto nit kʾchi lagootwagʾn kitwitasso. Mʾsioo +wʾskichin nootek aknoomagʾn mʾsioo wʾlitt-hasoo. Mʾsioo wʾsiwatch +yogonyalkatkisilet tekowmʾk maltnitin. Nit mʾsioo kesookmik +sittobjitakan opootwuswinoom. Mʾsioo kesookmik sittopetchitakan +nissoo kessena agwamʾk opootwuswinoom natchiwitchitagwik kʾchi +lagootwagʾn kessena kʾchi mawopootwuswagʾn. + +Nit mʾsioo kisma wewsettil nit omache tipit-hodmʾnya ta nʾteh +wʾtelook-hʾdinya. Stepal mʾsioo siwatch yokotit eli wʾabli +pemowsittit; yokt kʾchi sogmak wʾtiyana-kʾt kihee yot elapimʾk +asittwechosyokw kʾnʾmittunen elipegak naptwuk kenemittonenwul +kesek ewablikil yotʾl pegaknigil temʾhigʾnsisʾl to (?) naga tapyik +tepakw-yil chewi pooskenoswul oskemioo nitte mʾsioo wʾtlkislootmʾnya +wʾtlagootinya; nit otaginwipoonmʾnya kisook etuchi pootwusitit. + +Nit liwettasoo chikte wigwam. Yot wʾkesekmenya etasikiskakil katama +loo-wen-kelosioo mʾsitte pootwuswin chewitpit-hasoo tanetch wʾtitmʾn. +Tan etuchi littootit tebaskuswagʾnʾl mʾsitte wʾtipithodmʾnya tanetch +likisi-chenetasso manʾtimʾk guni chikpultowuk topemlokemkil. + +Apch etuchi apkw-timootit wigwam liwitassoo mʾsittakw-wen tlewestoo +nitt na guni omache pootwuswinya; mʾsioo potwooswin wʾtoknootmʾn +elipipyaks naga mech matnuttitit mʾsioo eli wʾsikyoltotitits +guenipnʾltimʾk; nittlo alteketch tepnasko yotipit-hatosoo naga +kʾtemakitt-haman wʾtepittemowa wʾtowasismowa naga mamatwikoltijik; +mechi mieu yokli-wʾsikyaspenik tahalote saglit-hat wʾsikap +naga mʾtappeguin. Nit mʾsioo mitte westotitit. Nit likisloomuk +wʾtlitonia kʾchi lakalosnihagʾn naga tochioo opoomʾnya epasioo +kʾchi wigwam tebagalosneoo; na wʾtlitunia ebiss oponmoonya +omittakw-sowall nit wen pelestowat nit etuch eshemhoottam yotʾl +eyilijil wʾnijanʾl tebakalusneoo. Mʾsitte na wʾtachwiyik settswawall +naga na mejimioo wʾmʾtutwatmʾn wʾkchi squt wa wechi skanekaswenook. +Yot wechi mach-hak wababi tebaskuswagʾnʾl. + +Nit lagalosnihagʾnʾl etli-nʾsettwasik spemek nit nitmame +lagootwi-kislootmewagʾn mʾsitte kesigpesitt wʾskichin newanko +kesookinito kenooklo kechayami milijpesw. Mʾsitte yokteke +wʾskichinwuk wʾtachwi elyanya naga wiginya tebagaloosneoo teketch wen +kegw liwableloket chiwisemha wʾnikikowal wʾtesemhogol; nit ebis kisi +mawettasiks nittlo tane teppo wigit tebakalosneoo chejik sʾtʾmenal +tan eyigil tebaskuswagʾnʾl kessena essemha. Nit wigwam ettlinwasik +tabakalosneoo hidmowioo mʾsitte kesitt wʾskichin kesittakw chewi +sanke wipemowsoo. Katama apch chigawi yotoltiwun chewi lipemowsowuk +tahalo wesi westoltijik witsegesotoltijik opeskon wenikicowa. +Nittlo kʾchi squt etli wʾsittwasik wigwamek hidmowiw mʾsitte ta wut +kiswichitakw wʾskichin nittetch ettlositit squtek wela manch skat +apch teke yiwibmes-honwal. Nittlo wenikigowal ettlin mʾsitt woot +wigwamek nit kʾchi Sagem Kanawak. Nitte lakaloshigʾn naga hibis +hidmowiw wababi tebaskuswagʾnl. Tan woot pelsetek chewi mawe sagyawal +etli nʾsettwojik nit mʾsigekw kisittpiyak. + + * * * * * + +Nitte apch omach elok-hʾdinya hʾnʾwʾtlitunia apsegiguil +wʾtebaskuswagʾnowal. Mʾsioo yotʾl tebaskuswagʾnʾl chewi-littaswul +wababik. Wechich kiskittasik tan teppo elikimwittpiyak elnogak +mʾsittech yo naga elimilichpegek wapap. Yot wapap elyot sagmak naga +mʾitapeguinwuk naga nipwultimkil. Elok-hʾdimek tan etuchi metchmete +sagem naga elipuskenoot eli-mʾtakittmowatil mʾsitte wʾskichinwuk. +Wulasikowdowi wapap; wigwamkewi wapap. + + + + + [Illustration] + + APPENDIX + + THE WAMPUM RECORDS IN ENGLISH + + +Many bloody fights had been fought, many men, women and children had +been tortured by constant and cruel wars until some of the wise men +among the Indians began to think that something must be done, and +that whatever was to be done should be done quickly. They accordingly +sent messengers to all parts of the country, some going to the +South, others to the East, and others to the West and Northwest. +Some even went as far as the _Wabanaki_. It was many months before +the messengers reached the farthest tribes. When they arrived at +each nation, they notified the people that the great Indian nations +of the Iroquois, Mohawks and others had sent them to announce the +tidings of a great _Lagootwagon_ or general council for a treaty of +peace. Every Indian who heard the news rejoiced, because they were +all tired of the never-ending wars. Every tribe, therefore, sent +two or more of their cleverest men as representatives to the great +council. + + * * * * * + +When all the delegates were assembled they began to deliberate +concerning what was best to do, as they all seemed tired of their +evil lives. The leading Chief then spoke as follows: “As we look back +upon our bloodstained trail, we see that many wrongs have been done +by all of our people. Our gory tomahawks, clubs, bows and arrows must +undoubtedly be buried for ever.” It was decided, therefore, by all +concerned to make a general _Lagootwagon_ or treaty of peace, and a +day was appointed when they should begin the rites. + +For seven days, from morning till night, a strict silence was +observed, during which each representative deliberated on the speech +he should make and tried to discover the best means for checking the +war. This was called the “Wigwam of Silence.” + + * * * * * + +After this they held another wigwam called _mʾsittakw-wen +tlewestoo_, or “Wigwam of Oratory.” The ceremonies then began. Each +representative recited the history of his nation, telling all the +cruelties, tortures and hardships they had suffered during their wars +and stating that the time had now come to think of and take pity +on their women and children, their lame and old, all of whom had +suffered equally with the strongest and bravest warriors. When all +the speeches had been delivered, it was decided to erect an extensive +fence and within it to build a large wigwam. In this wigwam, they +were to make a big fire and, having made a switch or whip, to place +“their father” as a guard over the wigwam with the whip in his hand. +If any of his children did wrong he was to punish them with the whip. +Every child of his within the enclosure must therefore obey his +orders implicitly. His duty also was to keep replenishing the fire in +the wigwam so that it should not go out. This is the origin of the +Wampum laws. + +The fence typified a treaty of peace for all the Indian nations who +took part in the council, fourteen in number, of which there are +many tribes. All these were to go within the fence and dwell there, +and if any should do wrong they would be liable to punishment with +the whip at the hands of “their father.” The wigwam within the fence +represented a universal house for all the tribes, in which they +might live in peace, without disputes and quarrels, like members +of one family. The big fire (_ktchi squt_) in the wigwam denoted +the warmth of the brotherly love engendered in the Indians by their +treaty. The father ruling the wigwam was the Great Chief who lived at +Caughnawaga. The whip in his hand was the type of the Wampum laws, +disobedience to which was punishable by consent of all the tribes +mentioned in the treaty. + + * * * * * + +After this, they proceeded to make lesser laws, all of which were +to be recorded by means of wampum, in order that they could be read +to the Indians from time to time. Every feast, every ceremony, +therefore, has its own ritual in the wampum; such as the burial and +mourning rites after the death of a chief, the installation of a +chief, marriage, etc. There were also salutation and visiting wampum. + + + + + ELOK-HʾDIMʾK TAN ETUCHI MECHMETE SAGEM + +Tan etuchi mechinet sagem omutlʾwaqulmʾnʾl chewi temitaha naga +nʾkikw-wakw-san. Mʾsitte tan kesiyit wʾtowegaknul wʾtchapyil +wʾtumhigen naga wʾmutewagʾn w’skichinwnk wʾnittagitmowawal +enguchi gʾdunweyin. Tan etuchi tepnasgoyak wʾskichinwuk wikwmania +pootwuswinoowo pootwuswinia wateplomania pili sagmal negootekmi +kataina wʾkislomowyil sagnial. Nitte eli kisi-mawekislootmootitits +nit opechitakaya kinwetaswinoo newunol kessena kaniachin begwitnol +hesgun elye Mikmakik, Kebeklo, Panwapskek Welastogok sagem teli +mechinet Pastemogatiek. Tan etuchi pechiyatit kinwettasijik +elyatit Mikmakik nitte mʾmittutil wechkiyak eguidin metenegnahasik +wʾkisin-setumenya kegw itmowio nitte sagem wʾmoweman oskmaknesum +wʾtiyan nit wechkoyak kegw nikt kinwut wechipechijik. Nit mʾsitte wen +wasisek naga epijik wʾskittapyik mʾtappyataswook wenachi asikwenya +malemte eguayik. Nitte peskw wʾgapetasin natuchio wʾthntowatmun +nʾskawewinto-wagʾnʾl. Nit wʾtali esui nʾskawan elamkigap wiyalit. +Malemte mechintoo nitte na yok wechiyojik peskw littposwin omilawiyan +nit na negum wʾtasitetunan wʾsiwesul na negum wʾwuskawan. + +Malemte mʾsioo mechi nʾskaw-hʾtimek naga tuchioo omach yapasinya +imye-wigwamʾk wʾnaji-mawehimyanya. Malemtech apch kisi-myawletwuk +naga tuchioo lippan tanpunote wigwamʾk. Nit m’sioo wen pejit epijik +wasisek mʾsioo wʾtlapasinya wʾnaji-wʾlasikwawa sʾsikiptinenawa naga +na opummunya mʾtewegon tesagioo wigwamʾk etli wechiwetit nit naga +tojio hchi-yawiwul wʾskichin wutakewagʾnl. + +Elukemkil etchwi kisetuchil meskw kisi sepyatikw nit amskwas +welaguiwik ehʾli wulit-has soeltowegw pemgowlutwuk. Nit apch +wespasagiwik yokt mejiwejik opetchitaganya pesgowal oskittapemwal +sagma-wigwamʾk wutiyanya sagmal opawatmunia mʾsitte wʾunemyanya +oskittapi gwandowanek. Nitte sagem wʾtakinwettuwan oskittapemomaweman +gwandowanek naga apch wʾtaginwettuwan yohote wechi-welijihi. Nit +na kisi kusyapasitit naga tojoo omoosketunia wapapyil naga tojoo +egitoso neget elikislotmotits. Nit ettlowsit Pestumagatiek wʾkuskatam +wʾkʾchi-wʾskinosismowow; nitlo kʾpawatmagʾnkil yot ettlowsiyan +kʾnajiwichi kehman eliat-kʾchi w’skinosismul. Malemte naga kisi +westoltitit yokt wechiwejik nit na sagem onakisinn na wutelewestoon +wʾtiyan wʾpemowsowinoom nit negum holithodmun wenajiwi-chakekemiw +wicho keman wʾsiwesul kipnael. Nit apch yokt wechiwejik onagesin +wʾteleweston olasweltumʾn kisi-weleyet sagman eliwulmatulit napch +okisiyinya naga tojoo onestomʾnya kisookch etuchiweswesittit. + +Wechiyowitit nittech apch liwitasso eldagemk ekelhoochin malemte +kisachwuk weswesinya. Wechiyawitit nit sagem wʾtokinwettuwan +oskittapem nikt kʾsiwesnowook kisachwuk weswesinya katama +kiseltumwownewin toji neksayiu omach-honya. Napch moskettaso wapap +kelhodwei naga wʾtegitmunya wʾtiyawa: nit yot etlowsit Mikmakik +epit wasis wʾskittap kʾpowatmagon kʾchenesin apch wagisook nio nit +kigwusin katagonkuthagʾn kʾmachkulit-hookowa. Nit ittmowioo katama +okiseltumwawun omach-halin. + +Nit apch elok-hʾdimʾk liwitasso nʾskowhʾdin. Nit apch sagem +opechitagon oskittapem onachi-ketonkatinya kʾchikook nit appi +kʾtunkatitit nit wʾtelogwsumnia tan eli pechputit mʾsioo weyesis +nepahatijihi malem-te mʾsioo kegw kisogwew. Nit mʾsioo macheptaso +gwandowanek nit etli kitimawemittsoltitit naga kinwetowan +nojikakolwet (_or_ notgudmit) wʾtalqueminowticook kʾwaltewall (_or_ +wikw-poosaltin). Nit mʾsioo wen wʾnastowan. Elque milit nitte +na wʾquaskoltinya wasisek epitjik wʾskitapyik pemip-hatijihi waltewa +mosque weya malemte pechik sikowlutwuk gwandowanek. Nitte mʾsioo +tʾholpiyanya pemkemigek nit yokt nojitophasijik otephemwan yayate +elapesit. Yot nit elwittasik elok-hʾdimʾk egelhodwi wikw-paltin; nit +kisapeseltitit omach yapasinya. Nitte apch neksayiu appat aptdoowuk. +Nit naga tochio hʾnskowhʾdin nit apch yokt wechiwejik onakisin peskw +wʾtlintowatmʾnhichi eleyiks elittotits omesomsowuk peskwun kessena +nisnol elintowatkil. Nit na sagem wut wechi yot wenaskawan-na. + +Malemte nit mechintotimʾk nit sagem holpin eppasio gwandowanek +kelnek pegholagnesis naga epesis nitte omache kʾtumosin omachetemun +opekholagʾn naga otlintowatmun kʾtumaswintowagʾnʾl. Nit miswen +onayinyan opemkan wʾskittapyik epitjik pechiote wasisek nit omikmow +powlʾtinya. + +Nit malemte mechit piye apch naga tojoo apch otakinwipunmunia +etuchi mach-hatit. Apch kisatchitit nit apch sagem nimwul-kʾdʾminya +hilelok-hʾdimkil. Anquotch metch nichi kesspemi minwukelhak yot +nit eldakewagʾn anquotch metch nihilente kessena te peskw kisoos +etasi-welaquiwigil pemkak; nit quenni wechi yot. + + + CEREMONIES CUSTOMARY AT THE DEATH OF A CHIEF + +When the chief of a tribe died, his flag-pole was cut down and +burnt, and his war-like appurtenances, bows and arrows, tomahawk and +flag, were buried with him. The Indians mourned for him one year, +after which the _Pwutwusimwuk_ or leading men were summoned by the +tribe to elect a new chief. The members of one tribe alone could not +elect their own chief; according to the common laws of the allied +nations, he had to be chosen by a general wigwam. Accordingly, +after the council of the leading men had assembled, four or six +canoes were dispatched to the Micmac, Penobscot and Maliseet tribes +if a Passamaquoddy chief had died.[71] These canoes bore each a +little flag in the bow as a sign that the mission on which the +messengers came was important. On the arrival of the messengers at +their destination, the chief of the tribe to which they came called +all his people, children, women and men, to meet the approaching +boats. The herald, springing to land, first sang his salutation song +(_nʾskawewintuagun_), walking back and forth before the ranks of the +other tribe. When he had finished his chant the other Indians sang +their welcoming song in reply. + +As soon as the singing was over they marched to some _imyewigwam_ +or meeting house to pray together. The visiting Indians were then +taken to a special wigwam allotted to their use over which a flag was +set. Here they were greeted informally by the members of the tribe +with hand-shaking, etc. The evening of the first day was spent in +entertaining the visitors. + +On the next day the messengers sent to the chief desiring to see all +the tribe assembled in a _gwandowanek_ or dance hall. When the tribe +had congregated there, the strangers were sent for, who, producing +their strings of wampum to be read according to the law of the big +wigwam, announced the death of the chief of their tribe, “their +eldest boy” (_kʾchi wʾskinosismowal_), and asked that the tribe +should aid them to elect a new chief. The chief of the stranger tribe +then arose and formally announced to his people the desire of the +envoys, stating his willingness to go to aid them, his fatherless +brothers, in choosing a new father. The messengers, arising once +more, thanked the chief for his kindness and appointed a day to +return to their own people. + +The ceremony known as _Kelhoochun_ then took place. The chief +notified his men that his brothers were ready to go, but that they +should not be allowed to go so soon. The small wampum string called +_kellhoweyi_ or prolongation of the stay was produced at this point, +which read that the whole tribe, men, women and children, were glad +to see their brothers with them and begged them to remain a day or +two longer; that “our mothers” (_kigwusin_), _i.e._, all the tribal +women, would keep their paddles yet a little while. This meant that +the messengers were not to be allowed to depart so soon. + +Here followed the ceremony called _Nʾskuhudin_. A great hunt was +ordered by the chief and the game brought to the meeting-hall and +cooked there. The _noochila-kalwet_ or herald went about the village +crying _wikw-poosaltin_, which was intelligible to all. Men, women +and children immediately came to the hall with their birch-bark +dishes and sat about the game in a circle, while four or five men +with long-handled dishes distributed the food, of which every person +had a share. This feast was called _kelhootwi-wikw-poosaltin_. When +it was over the Indians dispersed, but returned later to the hall +when the messengers sang again their salutation songs in honor of +their forefathers, in reply to which the chief of the tribe sang his +song of greeting. + + * * * * * + +When the singing was over, the chief seated himself in the midst of +the hall with a small drum in one hand and a stick in the other. To +the accompaniment of his drum he sang his _kʾtumasoointawagunul_ or +dance songs, which was the signal for a general dance, followed by +another feast. + +The envoys again appointed a day to return, but were deterred in the +same manner. As these feasts often lasted three weeks or a month, a +dance being held every night, it was frequently a long time before +they could go back to their own tribe, because the chief would detain +them whenever they wished to return. Such was the custom. + + + + + ELOK-HʾDIMʾK TAN ETUCHI ELYOOT SAGEM + +Malemte mʾsigekw mitnaskiyi nit naga toji sankiyiw omajahapanya +malemtech nikt pechiyik elyatit wecheyawitit nitte na omawemania +opemowsowinomwa wʾteginwetowania eli kisi-kiwkenitit eli pekwatotit +wichoketwagʾn. Miyawal te nikt na ketkik otapch-yanya ki +wʾkenitsepenik. Nit wʾchi-mach-yiw otaskowalmunia wechiyan nachiwichi +sakmakatenik. Malemte pechiyik omʾsioo nit me (?) elok-hʾdimkil-lelan +nach sekeptin ewan nut pemkemek. Pechiyatil odenesisek kisi-pemkatil +kisi-nʾskowhʾditit. + +Malemte tama nisook nekiwik naga omache hel-yanya mʾtewagemʾl +nit sagem kitwi yotomʾtewagwemul. Malemte kisachit otemepelanya +hʾnit peskw sagmak oponmowan naga wʾnasettowan omannimʾl naga na +onas-hewhotlanya pileyal elequotewagʾnʾl. Nit peskw sagem onestomowan +yohot sagmal kisiyajik wutege kʾchi-wʾskinosismowa kʾtachwi-elokepa +tan eli kisi-wu-lasweyekw naga na kʾtachicbik sitʾwania nekemch +na elookil tan wechi miyawil wahod opemowsowinoom. Yotʾl na echwi +elokejil sagem wʾtachiwi-sagitonel mʾsioo tan yootʾl nekachikil. +Wʾtachwi-klamanel chikow yootʾl timkil matnʾtoltimkil wʾtachwi na +kig-ha opemowsowinoom. Chikate wʾpemowsowagʾn lawutik. + + * * * * * + +Napch omach yot asinya gwandowanek wʾnachmoyo-wagʾnya. Napch sagem +wʾkutomasin naga wisek-han sagmal sagmaskw wisekhod pili sagmal naga +kiska-mek. + + * * * * * + +Apch wespasakiwik naga okeptinen teboloman el-wigʾnʾk keswuk +nihitanke yachihi wʾtliteboloma wataholoteh elitebolomoot sagem. +Peskw na elipemket wut eli wisek-hot. Eli miloot oʾmanimwa aguami +sagleyowal katik sagem napch wut piliwi sagem oskowiman naga +onestomowan kesich pigak wutlokewagʾnowal miyawal tena okisajin +otewepoosan mʾtewaguem. Nittle metewagʾn-mel osagmamwal nikt gaptinek +wiwunik apwihtowatijil ya te chikihigʾnʾl kelnajit ayat na tan teppo +yot kegus ewabligik quasijik kemenia pekusek wʾtachwi pekiyawal. Yot +nit itmowin wʾtachiwi wulankeyowwowwal tan te quenowsiltil +pemowsowagʾnawa te wʾtlipoonmʾnia. Wʾtachwi lipoonmenia opokenoom ya +hotankeyowa tich-hi nihitanke yatgotachihi tan etuchi nesa naguak +pechyamkotit. Chewi noteyik gaptinek woot sagem kislomot kitama +kiseltumwawun wichipnusin ansa teppo wʾtankeyowa opemowsowinoom naga +wʾnote genekmen tan gekw-nesanaguak pechiyak. Nit woot sagem naga +otelitepsowinoom okisitpesotinia. + +Nit apch ketkil elok-hʾdimkil malemte nit welaguiwik nit yaka +opemkanya tegio te apch echeguak enitespatek wʾtenkamhedoltinia. +Enowdoltowuk epeskum-hʾdinya wʾkisik-apwelanya metewagwemel. Nit +mʾsioo tan elitowtoltitit ek-hodasik tan woot neglo-wechik niktech +wikw-nekik niltelkisek hodasikil. Nit elok-hʾdimʾk anquoch queneket +nihi sente kessena te pes-kisoos. + + + THE CEREMONY OF INSTALLATION + +When they reached home, however, and the embassies from the other +_Wabanaki_ tribes had also returned, the people of the bereaved tribe +were summoned to assemble before the messengers, who informed them +of the success of their mission. When the delegates from the other +tribes, who had been appointed to elect the chief, had arrived and +the salutation and welcome ceremonies had been performed, an assembly +was called to elect the chief. + +This took place about the second day after the arrival of the +other _Wabanaki_ representatives. A suitable person, a member +of the bereaved tribe, was chosen by acclamation for the office +of chief. If there was no objection to him, a new flag-pole was made +and prepared for raising, and a chief from one of the kindred tribes +put a medal of wampum on the chief-elect, who was always clothed in +new garments. The installing chief then addressed the people, telling +them that another “eldest boy” had been chosen, to whom they owed +implicit obedience. Turning to the new chief, he informed him that he +must act in accordance with the wishes of his people. The main duties +of a chief were to act as arbiter in all matters of dispute, and to +act as commander-in-chief in case of war, being ready to sacrifice +himself for the people’s good if need were. + +After this ceremony they marched to the hall, where another dance +took place, the new chief singing and beating the drum. A wife of one +of the other chiefs then placed a new deer-skin or bear-skin on the +shoulders of the new chief as a symbol of his authority, after which +the dance continued the whole night. + +The officers of the new chief (_geptins_) were still to be chosen. +These were seven in number and were appointed in the same manner and +with the same ceremonies as the chief. Their duties, which were much +more severe, were told them by the installing chief. The flag-pole, +which was the symbol of the chief, was first raised. The _geptins_ +stood around it, each with a brush in his hand, with which they were +instructed to brush off any particle of dust that might come upon it. +This signified that it was their duty to defend and guard their chief +and that they should be obliged to spill their blood for him, in case +of need and in defence of the tribe. All the women and children and +disabled persons in the tribe were under the care of the _geptins_. +The chief himself was not allowed to go into battle, but was expected +to stay with his people and to give orders in time of danger. + +After the tribal officers had been appointed, the greatest +festivities were carried on; during the day they had canoe races, +foot races and ball-playing, and during the night, feasting and +dancing. The Indians would bet on the various sports, hanging the +prizes for each game on a pole. It was understood that the winner of +the game was entitled to all the valuables hung on this pole. The +festivities often lasted an entire month. + + + + + NIBOWE ELDAKEWAGʾN NʾKANSOSWEI + +Tan etuchi wʾskinoos pewatek oniswitijil en wʾtakin-wetowan wʾnikigo +naga tan yotʾl pawatgil nika nio nitaskowtitiesil netch woot +kʾtakw-hemoos wʾtakinwetuwan wʾtelnapem nit skawen waplithodmuk +nittech tekw-chetunia. Nit woot kʾtakw-kʾmoosimilan kelwasilipil +pileyal mowinewiyul kessena odook kessena quabitewiyul. Nutch woot +oskinoos omachep-hon odeneksonel yot nackskw wikowak netch nitponan +woot neksonel nowtek wigwamek; yote ebonel nisnol naga nowtek +naga kʾsoshone. Nit elichpi milipitasik elawigwam nit kisekelat +wʾdoneksonel. Woot loo nackskw omitakwsel otakin-wetuwan otelnapem +malemte kisi-mowemat wʾnestowan eliwisilit wʾskinosel pechipowat +matonijanel wʾniswinya. Nit skawen wablitthodmuk nittech woot +kitakw-pʾmoos wʾtelkiman wʾtusel nowtek pemekpit eneksone nittech nit +kisit piye nipwoltin nitan elikwusitasik wigopaltin mawemitsoltin +ayot pemkamik neskow hʾdimʾk. Anquotch quenatkʾt pemlokemkil. + + + THE MARRIAGE CEREMONY + + _The Ancient Rite_ + +It was the duty of the young Indian man who wished to marry to inform +his parents of his desire, stating the name of the maiden. The young +man’s father then notified all the relatives and friends of the +family that his son wished to marry such and such a girl. If the +friends and relations were willing, the son was permitted to offer +his suit. The father of the youth prepared a clean skin of the bear, +beaver or deer, which he presented to his son. Provided with this, +the suitor went to the wigwam of his prospective bride’s father and +placed the hide at the back of the wigwam or _nowteh_. The girl’s +father then notified his relations and friends, and if there was no +objection, he ordered his daughter to seat herself on the skin, as +a sign that the young man’s suit was acceptable. The usual wedding +ceremonies were then held, viz., a public feast, followed by dancing +and singing, which always lasted at least a week. + + + + + NIBOWE ELDAKEWAGʾN YOT PILIOO YOT KISI MAWETASIK + +Tan etuchi wʾskinoos ketwakatek wʾtachwich na kinwettwa wʾnikiko +wʾnestowan nackskwyil powatkil. Netch woot kʾtakw-hemoos omaweman +wʾtelnapemwa nit skatwen waplit-hodmuk. Nitch wʾdakinwettowania +nojikelol welijil nitch omacheptunia nequotatkeyi wapap nittech nit +milatit woot nackwesk omitakw-sel naga tan te kisikesitit kesosejihi +najichik lutkig wapap egitasik nibowei. Liwitasso kʾlelwewei yotech +wʿtetlegitmʾn elgitnuwik wʾnestowalch na eli-wisilit oskinosel nit +pawatek nitʾl nackskwuyil oniswinya. Nittech nit metewestakw nittech +weswi yapasinia yot wʾskinoos wigek. Nittech-et-laskowasooltitit +tegio asittemoot. Nittech na woot nackskw omitakw-sel omaweman +otelnapemwʾl nittech skatwen wablithamagw nitʾl pechi kelolwelijil +nittlowen kegw kʾchi chitwat ewabligik wʾmestomʾnch. Nittech +sagesso kʿtinipwooltimkepn. Nittlo mʾsioo li wulit-hodmotit nit +etepkisitpiye. Nit neke oskichinwuk kisi papatmotit nitch patlias +onipwik-han. + +Nittech nittʾl nibowe eldakewagʾnʾl elok-hʾdim. Wutech wʾskinoos +omilwan pileyal elquootewagʾnʾl nit kissewett woot pilkatek +netch omach-yapasinia oniswitijil wigwek netch wʾnatlasikwan +wʿniswitijil wenachi sekeptinenan wʾniswitijil naga kesosejihi. Yot +nit eliwittasik eldakewagʾn wulisakowdawagʾn. Nit weswesit wikwak +nutch nut holpiyanya yohot na pechi kesosejihi quesquesoos naga +pilskwessis naga gana wʾskittapyik. Wutech na wʾskinoos na onagʾnl +makeslasikasijihi nittech omach-yapasinia wʾnachi-sekeptinenya. +Malemtech metlasikowdoltin. Nittech uletonya kʾchi mawepoltimek +wutech nackskw towipootpoonek liwitass natpoonan oskittapyik epijik +pechi te wasisek. Wutech na wʾskinoos soksagw kotch meketch tlagw-te +mijwagʾn malemch kisakwtek. Nit wikopaltinya netch wʾgagalwaltinya +kʾwaltewall. Mʾsitte wen wʾnestem nit. + + * * * * * + +Nit omache-guaskoltinia natchi teppam wan wikopalan. Mechte +nibowattimek meskw metekto. Nitte otlas-hewhodlusooltinya naga +omach-yapasinia gwandowanek. Malemte pachaswook gwandowanek pechi +kesosejihi. Nitte kes yapasitit nitte pesgowat peskutenil ech-wechi +kʾchich yot lusoweskw eliyit kis gwandowanek. Nit ne oskinoo-lusoo. +Ena negum omach-yapasinia kesooswechihi malemte petapaswuk +kesyapasittit nit apch peskw-tay peskowat. Nitte gaptin omachep-han +omachi-ostook kegania oniswitijil. + + * * * * * + +Malemte epasitpokak en-onatpoon-hʾdinya kiste wulaquipwagʾn. +Nitt etli-mikomoot yokt kisiniswijik nit yotʾl lusowesquiwil +omache-kesoosanya kʾchi epitjik. Otasohonel na onespiptonial. + + + METEGUT. + + + THE MARRIAGE CEREMONY IN LATER DAYS. + +After the adoption of the wampum laws the marriage ceremony was much +more complicated. + +When the young man had informed his parents of his desire to marry +and the father had secured the consent of the relations and friends, +an Indian was appointed to be the _Keloolwett_ or marriage herald, +who, taking the string of wampum called the _Kelolwawei_, went to +the wigwam of the girl’s father, generally accompanied by as many +witnesses as cared to attend. The herald read the marriage wampum +in the presence of the girl and her father, formally stating that +such and such a suitor sought his daughter’s hand in marriage. The +herald, accompanied by his party, then returned to the young man’s +wigwam to await the reply. After the girl’s father had notified his +relatives and friends and they had given their consent, the wedding +was permitted to go on. + +The usual ceremonies then followed. The young man first presented +the bride-elect with a new dress. She, after putting it on, went +to her suitor’s wigwam with her female friends, where she and her +company formally saluted him by shaking hands. This was called +_wulisakowdowagon_ or salutation. She then returned to her father’s +house, where she seated herself with her following of old women and +girls. The groom then assembled a company of his friends, old and +young men, and went with them to the bride’s wigwam to salute her +in the same manner. When these salutations were over a great feast +was prepared by the bride, enough for all the people, men, women and +children. The bridegroom also prepared a similar feast. Both of these +dinners were cooked in the open air and when the food was ready +they cried out _kʾwaltewall_, “your dishes.” Every one understood +this, which was the signal for the merrymakers to approach and fall +to. + +The marriage ceremonies, however, were not over yet. The wedding +party arrayed themselves in their best attire and formed two +processions, that of the bride entering the assembly wigwam first. In +later times it was customary to fire a gun at this point as a signal +that the bride was in the hall, whereupon the groom’s procession +entered the hall in the same manner, when a second gun was fired. +The _geptins_ of the tribe and one of the friends of the bride then +conducted the girl to the bridegroom to dance with him. At midnight, +after the dancing, a supper was served, to which the bride and groom +went together and where she ate with him for the first time. The +couple were then addressed by an aged man (_nojimikokemit_) on the +duties of marriage. + +Finally, a number of old women accompanied the newly made wife to +her husband’s wigwam, carrying with them her bed-clothes. This final +ceremony was called _natboonan_, taking or carrying the bed. P. + + + THE END. + + +FOOTNOTES: + +[70] According to Indian tradition, six Iroquoian tribes united in a +confederation in the interests of peace. This was the famous league +of the six nations: Onondagas, Mohawks, Oneidas, Senecas, Cayugas +and Tuscaroras. The first five of these completed their league as +early as the middle of the fifteenth century under the Onondaga chief +Hiawatha. The object of the federation was to abolish war altogether +(see Brinton, “The American Race,” pp. 82, 83). It is evident that +the Passamaquoddy tradition embodied in this part of the Wampum +Records refers to these proposals made by their Iroquois neighbors. + +[71] From here on the recorder mentions only the neighboring +Algonkin tribes as belonging to the federation which he has in +mind. The northern Algonkin tribes were very probably in a loose +federation with the Iroquois merely for purposes of intertribal +arbitration. These Algonkin clans themselves, however, seem to have +been politically interdependent, as one clan could not elect a chief +without the consent of all the others. + + + + + =Glossary= + + + + + Glossary[72] + + [72] A.=Abenaki; P.=Passamaquoddy; Pen.=Penobscot; M.=Micmac. + + + Âbâznōdâ, “basket” (A. and P.); cognitive of _abazi_, “tree,” + _i.e._, something made of wood. Cf. P. _bʾsnŭd_. + + Âbĭstânēûch, “marten” (M.); probably cognitive with A. _âpânâkĕs_ + and _panakos_, “marten.” + + Ãbŭkchĕlû, “skunk” (M.); cf. P. _âpîchîlû_. The A. word is + _segoñgw_, “skunk,” from a cognitive of which, viz., Ojibwe, + [_=ž_]_ikág_, is derived the English “skunk,” and the city-name + “Chicago,” “place of skunks”! + + Âklîbĭmô, “bull frog” (P.); cf. M. _ăblîgĕmû_, “bull-frog.” + + Ăgŭnōdămâkŭn, “story” (P.); cf. _kt-ăgʾnōdʾmŭl_, “I will tell + thee”; _ăgŭnôdŭmaak′_, “one relates.” The A. stem _oñdoka_, + “tell,” is clearly a metathesis of the same root. + + Agwē′dʾn, “birch canoe” (P.); see M. _kwēdŭn_. + + Alsigontegw = _Arsikantekw_ is composed of the elements _arsi_, + “empty”; _kan_, an infix which signifies “cabin”; and the suffix + -_tekw_, which always means “river”; cf. _tego_, “wave.” The + modern form of the word is _Alsigontekw_, which the Indians + wrongly connect with _als_, “shell,” and translate “river where + shells abound.” _Als_ appears, however, as _ess_ in the older + language. See on this subject, GILL, _Notes sur les Vieux + Manuscrits Abenakis_, pp. 13 ff, Montreal, 1886. + + Ămwĕ′sŭk, “wasps” (P.); cf. M. _amuĕs′_, “a wasp.” + + Aplasemwesitt, “whirlwind” (P.); M. _pĭptōgōgwââsik_, A. + _pĕtĕgwîlômsĕn_. + + Appodumken, like the _Lumpeguin_ (both P.), dwelt under the water. + He had long red hair and was the favorite bugaboo used by + Indian mothers to frighten the children away from the water. + _Appodumken_ is identical with A. _Waodumkenowat_, who plugs + the eyes, ears, and nostrils of drowned corpses with mud. + + Aʿtosis, “snake” (P.); in M. _mtaaskum_, clearly not cognate. + + Atwusknigess, a Pass. invisible being who occasionally fells trees + with a single blow of his stone axe. This accounted for the fall + of an apparently healthy tree. + + Âûkōgēgĕ′chk, Blomidon; “Dogwood grove” (M.): also called + _utkogunchîchk_, “bark doubled and sewed together.” + + Awasos, See Mūūin. + + Awesos, See Mūūin. + + Bʾsnŭd, “basket” (P.); see _abaznoda_. + + Bûsîjĭk, “they sailed off” (P.); 3 p. pl. participle. The singular + is _bûsit_, “one who embarks.” + + Bûʾûin, “a wizard” (M.) = P. _mʾdeolin_ in meaning. The English + powwow is a derivative from the Mass. Narragansett cognitive of + this word; _powwâ_, “medicine man”; cf. Roger Williams, “Key to + the Indian Language,” Providence, 1827, p. 111. + + Chessuyek, “mosquitoes” (P.). The singular is _chîsu_ or _tʾsîso_, + _q.v._ This has no connection with M. _pijegunjit_ and A. + _pegues_, “mosquito.” + + Chibelaʿkwe, “night air sprite,” a monster consisting solely of + head and legs, without a body. It was always seen sitting in the + crotch of a tree. + + Nʾchigunum, “my younger brother” (M.). + + Chikwenochk, “turtle” (P.). + + Chinames, “a fish as long and broad as a man” (M.?). + + Chînu, a Micmac equivalent of P. _Kiwaʿkw_, _q.v._ + + Chipi′chkâm, “horned dragon”, really a huge wizard snake (M.). + + Elkomtûejul, “he is calling him,” with obviative ending -_ul_ (M.). + + Ēpīt, “woman”; pl. _ēpījĭk_ (P.); cf. M. _ēbit_. + + Etuchi, “so,” “thus” (P.); cf. A. _adoji_. + + Hămwĕsŭk, See _Amwĕsŭk_. + + Hʾlâmkîk, “hell” (P.); lit., “the lower land,” from _hʿlâm_, + “below,” and _ki_, “land,” + locative -_k_. Cp. A. _Alômki_. + + Î, excl., “oh!” (P.). + + Kt-iyi-pʾn, “we have” (P.). This is the _inclusive_ we, _i.e._, + thou and I. The exclusive form would be _nt-iyi-pʾn_. + + Kâk′âguch, “crow” (M.). In P. _kâkâgos_. + + Kâktûgwāās, “thunder” (M.); really “young thunder,” a common proper + name. + + Kaktugwāāsĭs, “little thunder” (M.); a further diminutive (ending + = _is_) of _Kâktûgwāās_, “little thunder.” _Kâktûgwāāsĭs_ means + properly, “son of Little Thunder.” + + Kaliwahdasi, “female proper name” (P.). + + Kʾchî, “big,” “large” (P.); also A. and Penobscot. + + Kchî-benabesk, “large rock” (P.). + + Kĕjû, “O mother” (M.); voc. of _nkĕ′ch_, “my mother.” Cp. A. + _nikʾn_, voc. of _nigawes_. + + Kĕkwâjû, “badger” (M.); cogn. with Ojib., _missá-kak-wijis_. + + Kekw? “what?” (P.); cp. A. _kagui?_ M. _kogūē?_ “what?” + + Kespugitk, “a place name.” + + Kes saak, “long ago” (M.). + + Ketaksuwâûʿt, “spirits’ road” (P.); a combination of _ketākw_, + “spirit,” and _âûʿt_, “road.” + + Kezitwâzuch, “Kearsarge” (Pen.). + + Kitpusâgʾnâû, Pass. proper name (?). A mythical being. + + Kiwaʿkw, “giant ghoul” or “ice-giant” (P.); cp. A. _kiwaʿkwa_, a + mythical being, similar in form to a man, who inhabited the + snows of the far north. + + Kʾmewun, “rain” (P.); cf. P. _kʾmēĭn_, “it is raining.” + + Koʿkoʿkhas, “owl” (P.); cp. M. _kûkûgwĕs_, A. _kokokhas_. + + Kuhkw, “earthquake” (M.). + + Kukuʿskûûs, “snowy owl,” a P. word, undoubtedly of onomatapoetic + origin. + + Kullû, “a fabulous bird of gigantic size” (M. and P.). + + Kulpujot, “one rolled over with handspikes” (M.); a fabulous being + supposed to be connected with the changes of season. + + Kwâbît, “beaver” (P.); cf. M. _kobet_. + + Kwabîtsis, “little beaver” (P.); diminutive of _kwâbît_. + + Kwĕdŭn, “canoe” (M.). See Ăgwē′dŭn. + + Kwîmû, “loon” (M.); cp. P. _ŭkwîn_. + + Lappilatwan, Pass. name of a small bird which sings from sunset + until quite dark. _Lappilatwan_ properly means a tree-fungus, + but the word is applied to this bird because it sits in the + branches without moving. See _Wappilatwan_ and _Wechkutonébit_. + + Laʿtogwesnuk, “Northland” (P.). + + Lenni Lenâbe, “Delawares” (P.); clearly a loan word from Minsi, + _Linni Linâpe_, “the men” (_par excellence_). Cp. Prince, “Proc. + Amer. Philos. Soc.,” 1899, p. 186; “Amer. Journ. Philol.,” p. + 295, n. 1. + + Lisignigen, “breastwork” (P.); M. _lŭtkŭdāāgŭn_, “hedge.” + + Lox, “wolverine” (P.); cogn. with A. _alaskan_, “wolverine.” Note + the metathesis. + + Lumpeguin, “water demon” (P.); see _Appodumken_. + + Malikakwsquess, Pass. female name. + + Malsum, “wolf” (P.); cp. A. _moñlsem_. + + Malsumsis, “little wolf” (P.), the diminutive of the above. + + Manoñgamasak, “river elves” (A.). + + Mʾdeolin, “wizard,” “witchcraft”; pl. _mʾdeolinʾwuk_, P. and + _mʾdaulinōwak_, (A. and Pen.). Cf. Ojibwe, _medewin_, + “witchcraft.” It probably means originally “one who drums.” Cp. + Old Delaware, _meteú_, “a medicine doctor”; also a turkey cock, + from the drumming of its wings. + + Michihant, “devil” (P.); a combination of _michi_, “bad” = A. + _maji_ + _hant_, the same stem seen in A. _Madahoñdo_, “demon.” + + Mikchik, “turtle” (P.); cp. M. _mikchikch_. + + Miʿko, “squirrel” (P.); cp. A. _miʿkowa_. + + Miʿkumwess, “wood devil”; pl. _miʿkumwessuk_; a small spirit + normally, which has the power, however, of increasing its + stature at will. + + Mĭpis, “little leaf” (Pass. diminutive); pl. _mĭpyĭl_. Cp. M. + _nebe_, “leaf.” + + Mʿskikwul wuli-mʾhaskil, “perfumed grass” (P.). Cp. M. _Mskegûl_, + “grass,” and _welemaak_, “fragrant”; A. _mʾskikoal_, “grass.” + + Monimquess, “woodchuck” (P.). See M. _munumkwech_. + + Munumkwech, “woodchuck” (M.); see P. _monimquess_. + + Mûs, “moose” (P.); see M. _Teâm_. The English moose is undoubtedly + a loanword from Pass. _mûs_; cp. Pen. _mûñs_; A. _moñz_. + + Mūschik, “place name” (P.). + + Mūsesaaqua, “horse fly” (P.); cp. M. _msusók_. + + K-musums, “thy grandfather”; _k-musomsʾn_, “our grandfather” (P.); + cp. A. _nʾmahom_, “my grandfather.” + + Mūūin, “bear” (M.) and P. In A. and Pen. we find _awasos_ and + _awesos_ respectively. + + Naga, “and” (P.); M. _ak_; A. _ta_. + + Nʾgŭmĭch, “my grandmother” (M.); cp. A. _nōkĕmĕs_. + + Nekmʾkila, “I am big” (P.). + + Nemchaase, “arise” (M.). + + Nenagimk, “hurry up!” (M.). + + Neʿs[´ē]yik, Pass, place-name = “the muddy lake.” + + Nikʾn, “O mother” (A.); dim. voc. of _nigawes_, “my mother.” + + Nĭl, “I” (P. and M.). + + Nipon, “summer” (P.); also _niben_ in Abenaki. + + Nit, “that” (P.). + + Nʾmokkswess, “sable” (P.); see M. _abistaneuch_. + + Noñwat, “long ago” (A.); cp. Pen. _nâwad_. + + Nowut Kemaganek, a Pass. place-name. + + Nsk[´ē]manul, “silver plates” (P.). + + Nŭgŭmĭch, “my grandmother” (M.). See _Nʾgŭmĭch_. + + Nujich, “my grandchild” (M.). + + Nulūks, “my nephew” (M.). + + Ogomkeok, place-name (M.). + + Onwokun, place-name (M.); “a causeway”; cp. A. _ondawahanik_, “a + divide.” + + N-osesak, “my children” (P.). + + Piʿche, “long ago” (P.). + + Piliomeskasik kʾtakʾmigw, “Newfoundland” (P.). This is a literal + translation of the English name. See _Uktâkŭmkûk_. + + Pilowi, “strange” (A. Pen. Pass.). + + Piktuk, place-name (M.). + + Plîgun, “Cape Split” (P.); M. plekteok, “large handspikes for + breaking open a beaver dam.” + + Pʾmûla, “night-air demon” (A.). This word occurs also in + Passamaquoddy and Penobscot as the name of a flying malevolent + sprite. + + Pogumʾk, “black-cat” (P.); an animal of the mink tribe, sometimes + called “fisher.” + + Pûjinskwess, “pitcher.” Pass. word denoting an evil witch; cp. M. + _Pikchimskwesû_. + + Pulowech, “partridge” (M.). + + Puloweche munigu, “Partridge Island” (M.). + + Pûn, “winter” (P.); cp. A. _pon_. + + Putup, “whale” (P.); M. bûtŭp. + + K-putwusin, “let us take council” (P.); cp. A. _podawazina_, both 1 + p. pl. inclusive. + + Saak; see _kes_. + + Sagem, “chief” (P.); cp. A. _Soñgmoñ_. English sagamore is a + loanword from this. + + Sâkskâdu, “squirrel” (M. and P.). See _Sexkâtu_. + + Saŭnesen, “south wind” (P.); cp. A. _soñwanaki_, “the southland.” + + Sĕnap, “man” (P.); cp. A. _sanoñba_; Pen. _sĕnōbē_. + + Senusoktun, “warming breeze” (P.). + + Sexkâtu, “squirrel”; see _sâkskâdu_. + + Nsiwes, “my brother” (P.). + + Skitap, “man” (P.); cp. old Pass. _wusketomp_. + + Squʿtes, “little fire” (P.); dim. of _squt_, “fire”; cp. A. + _skweda_. + + Teâm, “moose” (M.); See _Mûs_. + + Tiakēûch, “mink” (M.); cp. P. _chiâkes_. + + Tomâwē, “tobacco” (P. and M.). + + Tsîso, “mosquito”; see _chessuyek_. + + Tumʾhîgen, “axe” (P.); cp. A. _tamahigan_. + + Tumʾhîgenpowâgon, “tomahawk-pipe” (P.). + + Ukchigʾmuech, “sea duck” (M.). + + Uktâkŭmkûk, “Newfoundland” (M.); lit., “the mainland.” + + Uktukâmkw, “Newfoundland” (P.); the usual form is _piliomeskasik + kʾtakʾmigw_, _q.v._ + + Unamagik, “otters” (P.); cp. A. _unegigw_, “otter.” A place name. + + Upsinai, “medicine-bag” (M.). + + Uskichin } “Indian” (P.). + Uskijin } + + Waaguʿkw, “lice” (M.). + + Wâbab, “wampum” (P.); lit., “something white,” from the color of + the shells. In A. _skwōñzo_. + + Wabanaki, “the land of the dawn, or east” (P. and Pen.); in A. + _Woñbanaki_, from _woñban_, “dawn” (lit., “whitening”) + _aki_, + “land.” This also means “an Eastlander.” + + Wahwun, “egg” (P.); M. _wâû_; A. _woñwan_. + + Wappilatwan, “toadstool” (P.); punningly applied as an epithet to + _Lappilatwan_, _q.v._ See _wechkutonébit_. + + Waʿsis, “child” (P.); cp. A. _awoñsis_. + + Wʾchipi, “East wind” (P.). + + Webetumekw, “shark” (M.). + + Wechkutonébit, “he sits with his mouth open” (P.); parti., 3 p., + singular. See _Lappilatwan_ and _Wappilatwan_. + + Wegadusk, “northern lights” (M.). + + Wʾnagʾmeswuk, “fairies” (P.); small beings in human form of a + benevolent character. + + Wichkwîdlakunchich, “small dish of bark” (P.). + + Wîgît, “he, they live or lives” (P.); parti., 3 p., sing. and + plural. The stem _wig_, “dwell, live,” is common to all the + Algic idioms. Cp. _wigwâm_, “a house.” + + Wiguladumuch, “elves”; pl. -_uk_ (M.). + + Winpe, a Pass. evil spirit, perhaps cogn. with M. _Winsit_, “devil.” + + Wîwĭlmekw, a Pass. horned monster, living in the water. + + Wuchoʿsen, “north wind” (P.). This word denotes a fabulous eagle + which causes the wind by the motion of his wings. + + Wut, “that” (P.). + + Owing to lack of space, this Glossary contains only the most + important Indian words which appear in the English text. + No attempt has been made to explain the Indian headings + grammatically, nor the text of quoted poems. P. + + + + + OTHER WORKS BY + CHARLES GODFREY LELAND + + + The Poetry and Mystery of Dreams, 1850 + Hans Breitmann’s Ballads, 1868 + The English Gypsies and Their Language, 1872 + English Gypsey Ballads, 1873 + Life of Abraham Lincoln, 1881 + The Minor Arts, 1881 + The Gypsies, 1883 + The Algonquin Legends of New England, 1884 (2d edition 1885) + Dictionary of Jargon and Slang (in collaboration with Prof. Barrère), + 1891 + Gypsey Sorcery, 1891 + Legends of Florence, 2d series, 1895–6 + Hans Breitmann in Tyrol, 1895 + Songs of the Sea and Lays of the Land, 1895 + Mending and Repairing, 1896 + One Hundred Profitable Arts (issued as a series of handbooks) + Legends of Virgil, 1899 + The Gothic Mother Goose (in preparation) + Flaxius (in preparation) + + + + + OTHER WORKS BY + + JOHN DYNELEY PRINCE + + + Notes on the Language of the Eastern Algonkin Tribes, in the American + Journal of Philology, ix. pp. 310–316, 1888 + Archæology in Turkey, in the New York Independent, Dec. 6, 1888 + The Linguistic Position of the Osmanli Turkish, in Johns Hopkins + University Circular, April, 1891 + MENE MENE TEKEL UPHARSIN, an historical study of the Fifth Chapter of + Daniel, with translation of the Cyrus Cylinder and the Annals of + Nabonidus, Baltimore, 1893 + The Syntax of the Assyrian Preposition Ina, in the Proceedings of the + American Oriental Society, April, 1895, pp. ccxviii-ccxxvi + The Book of Psalms, English Translation of Wellhausen’s Notes, in the + Polychrome Edition of the Old Testament, Leipzig, 1895 + Brasluniau o Bagdad, in the Drych (Welsh Newspaper), March 5, 1896 + The Passamaquoddy Wampum Records, in the Proceedings of the American + Philosophical Society, pp. 479–495, 1897 + Old Testament Notes, in the Journal of Biblical Literature, xvi. pp. + 175–6, 1897 + The Syntax of the Assyrian Preposition Ana, in Journal of the American + Oriental Society, xviii. pp. 355–6, 1897 + Some Passamaquoddy Documents in the Annals of the New York Academy of + Science, xi. nr. 15, pp. 369–377, 1898 + On Daniel viii. 11–12, in Journal of Biblical Literature, xvii. pp. 203 + ff. 1898 + Assyrian Prepositional Usage, Journal of the American Oriental Society, + xx. pp. 1–11, 1899 + A CRITICAL COMMENTARY on the Book of Daniel, Leipzig, 1899 + On Psalm ii. 12, in Journal of Biblical Literature, xix. pp. 1–4, 1900 + Forgotten Indian Place-Names in the Adirondacks, Journal American + Folklore, 1900, pp. 123–128 + Some Passamaquoddy Witchcraft Tales, in Proceedings of the American + Philosophical Society, xxxviii. pp. 181–189, 1900 + The Unilingual Inscriptions K. 138 and K. 3232 translated from the + Sumerian, Journal of the American Oriental Society, xxi. pp. 1–22, + 1900 + Notes on Passamaquoddy Literature, in Annals of the New York Academy of + Science, xiii. pp. 381–386, 1901 + Notes on the Modern Minsi Delaware Dialect, American Journal of + Philology, xxi. pp. 295–302, 1901 + The Modern Dialect of the Canadian Abenakis, in Miscellanea Linguistica + in Onore di Graziodio Ascoli, pp. 343–362, 1901 + + + + + FLAXIUS, + OR LEAVES FROM THE LIFE OF AN IMMORTAL + + BY + CHARLES GODFREY LELAND, F.R.S.L., + A.M. (Harvard) &c. + + Published by P. WELLBY, LONDON. + + +“It is not so much the spirit of Breitmann which animates these pages +as that of Pantagruel. From the President of the United States, +Roosevelt, he goes to Hamlet and resolves to visit Hades. The tale of +Flaxius and the Were-wolf is a brilliant narrative.... Flaxius breaks +a lance for Jezebel and also for Herodias with graceful impartiality. +The chapter on the Bookseller is among the most charming in the +work.... It is quite certain that many readers will welcome Flaxius +as a philosopher seeking _la vraie verité_, a philosopher whose +sympathy is very human, and who has in spite of all his erudition ... +something of the naïve spontaneous pen of his Teutonic rival, Hans +Breitmann.” + +Condensed from a review of 150 lines in the _London Academy_. + +“The prose which is nearly all the book is a continued delight and +surprise in its humorous ideas, as well as in its more pitiful and +thoughtful moods.” “The whole is a literary entertainment of a rare +and delicate kind. Truly it is one of the daintiest, quaintest, +most frolicsome, and at the same time most spiritual of _jeux +d’esprit_.”--The (London) _Free Lance_. + +“An extremely pleasant and agreeable book.... No one who cares for +curious customs presented in a quaint and entrancing manner will miss +‘Flaxius: Leaves from the Life of an Immortal.’”--_Pall Mall Gazette._ + + + + +Transcriber’s Note: + +Words and phrases in italics are surrounded by underscores, _like +this_. Chapter and Canto headings, printed in gothic font, are +surrounded by equal signs, =like this=. Letters that have both an +accent and macron are shown within brackets, like this: [´ē]. Words +may have inconsistent hyphenation and use of diacriticals. + +Footnotes were renumbered sequentially; except for the Glossary, +footnotes were moved to the end of the chapter. Partially printed +punctuation and diacriticals were completed. Misspelled words were +not corrected. The word ‘a’ was added to ‘... in a pickle ...’ In the +Appendix, the English translation was moved to follow the related +section of Native language. + + +*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 78673 *** |