{"collection":"myth-cosmogony","full_text_available":true,"graph_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/api/page/gutenberg_6803/graph","html_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/page/gutenberg_6803","id":"gutenberg_6803","license":"Public Domain (US)","rights_basis":"gutenberg_metadata_copyright_false","source":"gutenberg","source_url":"https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/6803","summary":null,"tags":["Algonquian Indians -- Legends","Algonquian mythology","Category: Mythology, Legends & Folklore","Folklore","Indians of North America -- Folklore","Legends -- New England","Native America"],"text":"Produced by Emily Ratliff, Juliet Sutherland, Charles Franks\nand the Online Distributed Proofreading Team.\nThis file was produced from images generously made available by\nthe Canadian Institute for Historical Microreproductions.\n\n\n\n\n\nTHE ALGONQUIN LEGENDS OF NEW ENGLAND\n\nOR\n\n_Myths and Folk Lore of the Micmac, Passamaquoddy, and Penobscot\nTribes_\n\nBY CHARLES G. LELAND\n\n\n\n\n[Frontispiece Illustration: MIK UM WESS THE INDIAN PUCK, OR ROBIN\nGOOD-FELLOW.\n\nFrom a scraping on birch bark by Tomak Josephs, Indian Governor at\nPeter Dona's Point, Maine. The Mik um wees always wears a red cap like\nthe Norse Goblin.]\n\n\n\nPREFACE.\n\nWhen I began, in the summer of 1882, to collect among the Passamaquoddy\nIndians at Campobello, New Brunswick, their traditions and folk-lore, I\nexpected to find very little indeed. These Indians, few in number,\nsurrounded by white people, and thoroughly converted to Roman\nCatholicism, promised but scanty remains of heathenism. What was my\namazement, however, at discovering, day by day, that there existed\namong them, entirely by oral tradition, a far grander mythology than\nthat which has been made known to us by either the Chippewa or Iroquois\nHiawatha Legends, and that this was illustrated by an incredible number\nof tales. I soon ascertained that these were very ancient. The old\npeople declared that they had heard from their progenitors that all of\nthese stories were once sung; that they themselves remembered when many\nof them were poems. This was fully proved by discovering manifest\ntraces of poetry in many, and finally by receiving a long Micmac tale\nwhich had been sung by an Indian. I found that all the relaters of this\nlore were positive as to the antiquity of the narratives, and\ndistinguished accurately between what was or was not pre-Columbian. In\nfact, I came in time to the opinion that the original stock of all the\nAlgonquin myths, and perhaps of many more, still existed, not far away\nin the West, but at our very doors; that is to say, in Maine and New\nBrunswick. It is at least certain, as the reader may convince himself,\nthat these Wabanaki, or Northeastern Algonquin, legends give, with few\nexceptions, in full and coherently, many tales which have only reached\nus in a broken, imperfect form, from other sources.\n\nThis work, then, contains a collection of the myths, legends, and\nfolk-lore of the principal Wabanaki, or Northeastern Algonquin, Indians;\nthat is to say, of the Passamaquoddies and Penobscots of Maine, and of\nthe Micmacs of New Brunswick. All of this material was gathered\ndirectly from Indian narrators, the greater part by myself, the rest by\na few friends; in fact, I can give the name of the aboriginal authority\nfor every tale except one. As my chief object has been simply to\ncollect and preserve valuable material, I have said little of the\nlabors of such critical writers as Brinton, Hale, Trumbull, Powers,\nMorgan, Bancroft, and the many more who have so ably studied and set\nforth red Indian ethnology. If I have rarely ventured on their field,\nit is because I believe that when the Indian shall have passed away\nthere will come far better ethnologists than I am, who will be much\nmore obliged to me for collecting raw material than for cooking it.\n\nTwo or three subjects have, it is true, tempted me into occasional\ncommenting. The manifest, I may say the undeniable, affinity between\nthe myths and legends of the Northeastern Indians and those of the\nEskimo could hardly be passed over, nor at the same time the identity\nof the latter and of the Shaman religion with those of the Finns,\nLaplanders, and Samoyedes. I believe that I have contributed material\nnot devoid of value to those who are interested in the study of the\nrelations of the aborigines of America with the Mongoloid races of the\nOld World. This is a subject which has been very little studied through\nthe relations of these Wabanaki with the Eskimo.\n\nA far more hazardous venture has been the indicating points of\nsimilarity between the myths or tales of the Algonquins and those of\nthe Norsemen, as set forth in the Eddas, the Sagas, and popular tales\nof Scandinavia. When we, however, remember that the Eskimo once ranged\nas far south as Massachusetts, that they did not reach Greenland till\nthe fourteenth century, that they had for three centuries intimate\nrelations with Scandinavians, that they were very fond of legends, and\nthat the Wabanaki even now mingle with them, the marvel would be that\nthe Norsemen had not left among them traces of their tales or of their\nreligion. But I do not say that this was positively the case; I simply\nset forth in this book a great number of curious coincidences, from\nwhich others may draw their own conclusions. I confess that I cannot\naccount for these resemblances save by the so-called \"historical\ntheory\" of direct transmission; but if any one can otherwise explain\nthem I should welcome the solution of what still seems to be, in many\nrespects, a problem.\n\nI am, in fact, of the opinion that what is given in this work confirms\nwhat was conjectured by David Crantz, and which is thus expressed in\nhis History of Greenland (London, 1767): \"If we read the accounts which\nhave been given of the most northerly American Indians and Asiatic\nTartars, we find a pretty great resemblance between their manner of\nlife, morals, usages, and notions and what has been said in this book\nof the Greenlanders, only with this difference: that the farther the\nsavage nations wandered towards the North, the fewer they retained of\ntheir ancient conceptions and customs. As for the Greenlanders, if it\nbe true, as is supposed, that a remnant of the old Norway Christians\nincorporated themselves and became one people with them, the\nGreenlanders may thence have heard and adopted some of their notions,\nwhich they may have new-modeled in the coarse mould of their own\nbrain.\"\n\nAmong those who have greatly aided me in preparing this work I deem it\nto be a duty to mention MISS ABBY ALGER, of Boston, to whom it is\ncordially dedicated; the REV. SILAS T. RAND, of Hantsport, Nova Scotia,\nwho lent me a manuscript collection of eighty-five Micmac tales, and\ncommunicated to me, with zealous kindness, much information by letter;\nand MRS. W. WALLACE BROWN, of Calais, Maine. It was through this lady\nthat I derived a great proportion of the most curious folk-lore of the\nPassamaquoddies, especially such parts as coincided with the Edda. With\nthese I would include MR. E. JACK, of Fredericton, New Brunswick. When\nit is remembered that there are only forty-two of the Hiawatha Legends\nof Schoolcraft, out of which five books have been made by other\nauthors, and that I have collected more than two hundred, it will be\nseen how these friends must have worked to aid me.\n\n\n\n\nAUTHORITIES.\n\n\nThe authorities consulted in writing this work were as follows:--\n\nPERSONS.\n\nTomah Josephs, Passamaquoddy, Indian Governor at Peter Dana's Point,\nMaine.\n\nThe Rev. Silas T. Rand, Baptist Missionary among the Micmac Indians at\nHantsport, Nova Scotia. This gentleman lent me his manuscript\ncollection of eighty-five stories, all taken down from verbal Indian\nnarration. He also communicated much information in letters, etc.\n\nJohn Gabriel, and his son Peter J. Gabriel, Passamaquoddy Indians, of\nPoint Pleasant, Maine.\n\nNoel Josephs, of Peter Dana's Point, alias _Che gach goch_, the\nRaven.\n\nJoseph Tomah, Passamaquoddy, of Point Pleasant.\n\nLouis Mitchell, Indian member of the Legislature of Maine. To this\ngentleman I am greatly indebted for manuscripts, letters, and oral\nnarrations of great value.\n\nSapiel Selmo, keeper of the Wampum Record, formerly read every four\nyears, at the kindling of the great fire at Canawagha.\n\nMarie Saksis, of Oldtown, a capital and very accurate narrator of many\ntraditions.\n\nMiss Abby Alger, of Boston, by whom I was greatly aided in collecting\nthe Passamaquoddy stories, and who obtained several for me among the\nSt. Francis or Abenaki Indians.\n\nEdward Jack, of Fredericton, for several Micmac legends and many\nletters containing folk-lore, all taken down by him directly from\nIndians.\n\nMrs. W. Wallace Brown. Mr. Brown was agent in charge of the\nPassamaquoddies in Maine. To this lady, who has a great influence over\nthe Indians, and is much interested in their folk-lore and legends, I\nam indebted for a large collection of very interesting material of the\nmost varied description.\n\nNoel Neptune, Penobscot, Oldtown, Maine.\n\nBOOKS, MANUSCRIPTS, ETC.\n\n_The Story of Glooskap._ A curious manuscript in Indian-English,\nobtained for me by Tomah Josephs.\n\n_The Dominion Monthly_ for 1871. Containing nine Micmac legends by\nRev. S.T. Rand.\n\n_Indian Legends._ (Manuscript of 900 pp. folio.) Collected among\nthe Micmac Indians, and translated by Silas T. Rand, Missionary to the\nMicmacs.\n\n_A Manuscript Collection of Passamaquoddy Legends and Folk-Lore._\nBy Mrs. W. Wallace Brown, of Calais, Maine. These are all given with\nthe greatest accuracy as narrated by Indians, some in broken\nIndian-English. They embrace a very great variety of folk-lore.\n\n_Manuscript Fairy Tales in Indian and English._ By Louis Mitchell.\n\n_Manuscript: The Superstitions of the Passamaquoddies._ In Indian\nand English.\n\n_A History of the Passamaquoddy Indians._ Manuscript of 80 pages,\nIndian and English. All of these were written for me by L. Mitchell,\nM.L.\n\n_Wampum Records._ Read for me by Sapiel Selmo, the only living\nIndian who has the key to them.\n\nDavid Cusick's _Sketches of Ancient History of the Six Nations._\nLockport, N.Y., 1848. Printed, but written in Indian-English.\n\n_Manuscript: Six Stories of the St. Francis or Abenaki Indians._\nTaken down by Miss Abby Alger.\n\nOsgood's _Maritime Provinces._ In this work there are seven short\nextracts relative to Glooskap given without reference to any book or\nauthor.\n\n\n\n\nCONTENTS\n\n\nINTRODUCTION\n\nGLOOSKAP, THE DIVINITY.\n\nOf Glooskap's Birth, and of his Brother Malsum, the Wolf\n\nHow Glooskap made the Elves and Fairies, and then Man of an Ash-Tree,\nand last of all the Beasts, and of his Coming at the Last Day\n\nOf the Great Deeds which Glooskap did for Men; how he named the\nAnimals, and who they were that formed his Family\n\nHow Win-pe, the Sorcerer, having stolen Glooskap's Family, was by him\npursued. How Glooskap for a Merry Jest cheated the Whale. Of the Song\nof the Clams, and how the Whale smoked a Pipe\n\nOf the Dreadful Deeds of the Evil Pitcher, who was both Man and Woman;\nhow she fell in Love with Glooskap, and, being scorned, became his\nEnemy. Of the Toads and Porcupines, and the Awful Battle of the Giants\n\nHow the Story of Glooskap and Pook-jin-skwess, the Evil Pitcher, is\ntold by the Passamaquoddy Indians\n\nHow Glooskap became friendly to the Loons, and made them his Messengers\n\nHow Glooskap made his Uncle Mikchich, the Turtle, into a Great Man, and\ngot him a Wife. Of the Turtles' Eggs, and how Glooskap vanquished a\nSorcerer by smoking Tobacco\n\nHow Glooskap sailed through the Great Cavern of Darkness\n\nOf the Great Works which Glooskap made in the Land\n\nThe Story of Glooskap as told in a few Words by a Woman of the\nPenobscots\n\nHow Glooskap, leaving the World, all the Animals mourned for him, and\nhow, ere he departed, he gave Gifts to Men\n\nHow Glooskap had a Great Frolic with Kitpooseagunow, a Mighty Giant who\ncaught a Whale\n\nHow Glooskap made a Magician of a Young Man, who aided another to win a\nWife and do Wonderful Deeds\n\nHow a certain Wicked Witch sought to cajole the Great and Good\nGlooskap, and of her Punishment\n\nOf other Men who went to Glooskap for Gifts\n\nOf Glooskap and the three other Seekers\n\nOf Glooskap and the Sinful Serpent\n\nThe Tale of Glooskap as told by another Indian, showing how the Toad\nand Porcupine lost their Noses\n\nHow Glooskap changed Certain Saucy Indians into Rattlesnakes\n\nHow Glooskap bound Wuchowsen, the Great Wind-Bird, and made all the\nWaters in the World stagnant\n\nHow Glooskap conquered the Great Bull-Frog, and in what Manner all the\nPollywogs, Crabs, Leeches, and other Water Creatures were created\n\nHow the Lord of Men and Beasts strove with the Mighty Wasis, and was\nshamefully defeated\n\nHow the Great Glooskap fought the Giant Sorcerers at Saco, and turned\nthem into Fish\n\nHow Glooskap went to England and France, and was the first to make\nAmerica known to the Europeans\n\nHow Glooskap is making Arrows, and preparing for a Great Battle. The\nTwilight of the Indian Gods\n\nHow Glooskap found the Summer\n\nTHE MERRY TAXES OF LOX, THE MISCHIEF-MAKER.\n\nThe Surprising and Singular Adventures of two Water Fairies who were\nalso Weasels, and how they each became the Bride of a Star. Including\nthe Mysterious and Wonderful Works of Lox, the Great Indian Devil, who\nrose from the Dead\n\nOf the Wolverine and the Wolves, or how Master Lox froze to Death\n\nHow Master Lox played a Trick on Mrs. Bear, who lost her Eyesight and\nhad her Eyes opened\n\nHow Lox came to Grief by trying to catch a Salmon\n\nHow Master Lox, as a Raccoon, killed the Bear and the Black Cats, and\nperformed other Notable Feats of Skill, all to his Great Discredit\n\nHow Lox deceived the Ducks, cheated the Chief, and beguiled the Bear\n\nThe Mischief-Maker. A Tradition of the Origin of the Mythology of the\nSenecas. A Lox Legend\n\nHow Lox told a Lie\n\nTHE AMAZING ADVENTURES OF MASTER RABBIT.\n\nHow Master Rabbit sought to rival Kecoony, the Otter\n\nHow Mahtigwess, the Rabbit, dined with the Woodpecker Girls, and was\nagain humbled by trying to rival them\n\nOf the Adventure with Mooin, the Bear; it being the Third and Last Time\nthat Master Rabbit made a Fool of himself\n\nRelating how the Rabbit became Wise by being Original, and of the\nTerrible Tricks which he by Magic played Loup-Cervier, the Wicked\nWild-Cat\n\nHow Master Rabbit went to a Wedding and won the Bride\n\nHow Master Rabbit gave himself Airs\n\nThe Young Man who was saved by a Rabbit and a Fox\n\nTHE CHENOO LEGENDS.\n\nThe Chenoo, or the Story of a Cannibal with an Icy Heart\n\nThe Story of the Great Chenoo, as told by the Passamaquoddies\n\nThe Girl-Chenoo\n\nTHUNDER STORIES.\n\nOf the Girl who married Mount Katahdin, and how all the Indians brought\nabout their own Ruin\n\nHow a Hunter visited the Thunder Spirits who dwell on Mount Katahdin\n\nThe Thunder and Lightning Men\n\nOf the Woman who married the Thunder, and of their Boy\n\nAT-O-SIS, THE SERPENT.\n\nHow Two Girls were changed to Water-Snakes, and of Two others that\nbecame Mermaids\n\nNe Hwas, the Mermaid\n\nOf the Woman who loved a Serpent that lived in a Lake\n\nThe Mother of Serpents\n\nOrigin of the Black Snakes\n\nTHE PARTRIDGE.\n\nThe Adventures of the Great Hero Pulowech, or the Partridge\n\nThe Story of a Partridge and his Wonderful Wigwam\n\nHow the Partridge built Good Canoes for all the Birds, and a Bad One\nfor Himself\n\nThe Mournful Mystery of the Partridge-Witch; setting forth how a Young\nMan died from Love\n\nHow one of the Partridge's Wives became a Sheldrake Duck, and why her\nFeet and Feathers are red\n\nTHE INVISIBLE ONE\n\nSTORY OF THE THREE STRONG MEN\n\nTHE WEEWILLMEKQ'\n\nHow a Woman lost a Gun for Fear of the Weewillmekq'\n\nMuggahmaht'adem, the Dance of Old Age, or the Magic of the Weewillmekq'\n\nAnother Version of the Dance of Old Age\n\nTALES OF MAGIC.\n\nM'teoulin, or Indian Magic\n\nStory of the Beaver Trapper\n\nHow a Youth became a Magician\n\nOf Old Joe, the M'teoulin\n\nOf Governor Francis\n\nHow a Chiefs Son taught his Friend Sorcery\n\nTumilkoontaoo, or the Broken Wing\n\nFish-Hawk and Scapegrace\n\nThe Giant Magicians\n\n\n\n\nLIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS.\n\n\nMIK UM WESS, THE INDIAN PUCK, OR ROBIN GOOD-FELLOW\n\nGLOOSKAP KILLING HIS BROTHER, THE WOLF\n\nGLOOSKAP LOOKING AT THE WHALE SMOKING HIS PIPE\n\nGLOOSKAP SETTING HIS DOGS ON THE WITCHES\n\nTHE MUD-TURTLE JUMPING OVER THE WIGWAM OF HIS FATHER-IN-LAW\n\nGLOOSKAP AND KEANKE SPEARING THE WHALE\n\nGLOOSKAP TURNING A MAN INTO A CEDAR-TREE\n\nLOX CARRIED OFF BY CULLOO\n\nTHE INDIAN BOY AND THE MUSK-RAT. SEEPS, THE DUCK\n\nTHE RABBIT MAGICIAN\n\nTHE CHENOO AND THE LIZARD\n\nTHE WOMAN AND THE SERPENT\n\n\n\n\nINTRODUCTION\n\n\nAmong the six chief divisions of the red Indians of North America the\nmost widely extended is the Algonquin. This people ranged from Labrador\nto the far South, from Newfoundland to the Rocky Mountains, speaking\nforty dialects, as the Hon. J. H. Trumbull has shown in his valuable\nwork on the subject. Belonging to this division are the Micmacs of New\nBrunswick and the Passamaquoddy and Penobscot tribes of Maine, who with\nthe St. Francis Indians of Canada and some smaller clans call\nthemselves the Wabanaki, a word derived from a root signifying white or\nlight, intimating that they live nearest to the rising sun or the east.\nIn fact, the French-speaking St. Francis family, who are known _par\neminence_ as \"the Abenaki,\" translate the term by _point du\njour_.\n\nThe Wabanaki have in common the traditions of a grand mythology, the\ncentral figure of which is a demigod or hero, who, while he is always\ngreat, consistent, and benevolent, and never devoid of dignity,\npresents traits which are very much more like those of Odin and Thor,\nwith not a little of Pantagruel, than anything in the characters of the\nChippewa Manobozho, or the Iroquois Hiawatha. The name of this divinity\nis Glooskap, meaning, strangely enough, the Liar, because it is said\nthat when he left earth, like King Arthur, for Fairyland, he promised\nto return, and has never done so. It is characteristic of the Norse\ngods that while they are grand they are manly, and combine with this a\npeculiarly domestic humanity. Glooskap is the Norse god intensified. He\nis, however, more of a giant; he grows to a more appalling greatness\nthan Thor or Odin in his battles; when a _Kiawaqu'_, or Jotun,\nrises to the clouds to oppose him, Glooskap's head touches the stars,\nand scorning to slay so mean a foe like an equal, he kills him\ncontemptuously with a light tap of his bow. But in the family circle he\nis the most benevolent of gentle heroes, and has his oft-repeated\nlittle standard jokes. Yet he never, like the Manobozho-Hiawatha of the\nChippewas, becomes silly, cruel, or fantastic. He has his roaring revel\nwith a brother giant, even as Thor went fishing in fierce fun with the\nfrost god, but he is never low or feeble.\n\nAround Glooskap, who is by far the grandest and most Aryan-like\ncharacter ever evolved from a savage mind, and who is more congenial to\na reader of Shakespeare and Rabelais than any deity ever imagined out\nof Europe, there are found strange giants: some literal Jotuns of stone\nand ice, sorcerers who become giants like Glooskap, at will; the\nterrible Chenoo, a human being with an icy-stone heart, who has sunk to\na cannibal and ghoul; all the weird monsters and horrors of the Eskimo\nmythology, witches and demons, inherited from the terribly black\nsorcery which preceded Shamanism, and compared to which the latter was\nlike an advanced religion, and all the minor mythology of dwarfs and\nfairies. The Indian _m'teoulin_, or magician, distinctly taught\nthat every created thing, animate or inanimate, had its indwelling\nspirit. Whatever had an _idea_ had a soul. Therefore the Wabanaki\nmythology is strangely like that of the Rosicrucians. But it created\nspirits for the terrible Arctic winters of the north, for the icebergs\nand frozen wastes, for the Northern Lights and polar bears. It made, in\nshort, a mythology such as would be perfectly congenial to any one who\nhas read and understood the Edda, Beowulf, and the Kalevala, with the\nwildest and oldest Norse sagas. But it is, as regards spirit and\nmeaning, utterly and entirely unlike anything else that is American. It\nis not like the Mexican pantheon; it has not the same sounds, colors,\nor feelings; and though many of its incidents or tales are the same as\nthose of the Chippewas, or other tribes, we still feel that there is an\nincredible difference in the spirit. Its ways are not as their ways.\nThis Wabanaki mythology, which was that which gave a fairy, an elf, a\nnaiad, or a hero to every rock and river and ancient hill in New\nEngland, is just the one of all others which is least known to the New\nEnglanders. When the last Indian shall be in his grave, those who come\nafter us will ask in wonder why we had no curiosity as to the romance\nof our country, and so much as to that of every other land on earth.\n\nMuch is allowed to poets and painters, and no fault was found with Mr.\nLongfellow for attributing to the Iroquois Hiawatha the choice exploits\nof the Chippewa demi-devil Manobozho. It was \"all Indian\" to the\nmultitude, and one name answered as well in poetry as another, at a\ntime when there was very little attention paid to ethnology. So that a\ngood poem resulted, it was of little consequence that the plot was a\n_melange_ of very different characters, and characteristics. And\nwhen, in connection with this, Mr. Longfellow spoke of the Chippewa\ntales as forming an Indian Edda, the term was doubtless in a poetic and\nvery general sense permissible. But its want of literal truth seems to\nhave deeply impressed the not generally over particular or accurate\nSchoolcraft, since his first remarks in the Introduction to the\nHiawatha Legends are as follows:--\n\n\"Where analogies are so general, there is a constant liability to\nmistakes. Of these foreign analogies of myth-lore, the least tangible,\nit is believed, is that which has been suggested with the Scandinavian\nmythology. That mythology is of so marked and peculiar a character that\nit has not been distinctly traced out of the great circle of tribes of\nthe Indo-Germanic family. Odin and his terrific pantheon of war gods\nand social deities could only exist in the dreary latitudes of storms\nand fire which produce a Hecla and a Maelstrom. These latitudes have\ninvariably produced nations whose influence has been felt in an\nelevating power over the world. From such a source the Indian could\nhave derived none of him vague symbolisms and mental idiosyncrasies\nwhich have left him as he is found to-day, without a government and\nwithout a god.\"\n\nThis is all perfectly true of the myths of Hiawat'ha-Manobozho. Nothing\non earth could be more unlike the Norse legends than the \"Indian Edda\"\nof the Chippewas and Ottawas. But it was not known to this writer that\nthere already existed in Northeastern America a stupendous mythology,\nderived from a land of storms and fire more terrible and wonderful than\nIceland; nay, so terrible that Icelanders themselves were appalled by\nit. \"This country,\" says the Abbe Morillot, \"is the one most suggestive\nof superstition. Everything there, sea, earth, or heaven, is strange.\"\nThe wild cries which rise from the depths of the caverned ice-hills,\nand are reechoed by the rocks, icebergs, or waves, were dreadful to\nEgbert Olafson in the seventeenth century. The interior is a desert\nwithout parallel for desolation. A frozen Sahara seen by Northern\nlightning and midnight suns is but a suggestion of this land. The sober\nMoravian missionary Crantz once only in his life rose to poetry, when\nmore than a century ago he spoke of its scenery. Here then was the\nlatitude of storm and fire required by Schoolcraft to produce something\nwilder and grander than he had ever found among Indians. And here\nindeed there existed all the time a cycle of mythological legends or\npoems such as he declared Indians incapable of producing. But strangest\nof all, this American mythology of the North, which has been the very\nlast to become known to American readers, is literally so nearly like\nthe Edda itself that as this work fully proves, there is hardly a song\nin the Norse collection which does not contain an incident found in the\nIndian poem-legends, while in several there are many such coincidences.\nThus, in the Edda we are told that the first birth on earth was that of\na giant girl and boy, begotten by the feet of a giant and born from his\narmpit. In the Wabanaki legends, the first birth was of Glooskap, the\nGood principle, and Malsum the Wolf, or Evil principle. The Wolf was\nborn from his mother's armpit. He is sometimes male and sometimes\nfemale. His feet are male and female, and converse. We pass on only\ntwelve lines in the Edda (Vafthrudnismal, 36) to be told that the wind\nis caused by a giant in eagle's plumage, who sits on a rock far in the\nnorth \"at the end of heaven.\" This is simply and literally the\n_Wochowsen_ or Windblower of the Wabanaki word for word,--not the\n\"Thunder-Bird\" of the Western Indians. The second birth on earth,\naccording to the Edda, was that of man. Odin found Ash and Elm \"nearly\npowerless,\" and gave them sense. This was the first man and woman.\nAccording to the Indians of Maine, Glooskap made the first men from the\n_ash_-tree. They lived or were in it, \"devoid of sense\" till he\ngave it to them. It is to be observed that primevally among the Norse\nthe _ash_ alone stood for man. So it goes on through the whole\nEdda, of which all the main incidents are to be found among the sagas\nof the Wabanaki. The most striking of these are the coincidences\nbetween _Lox_ (lynx, wolf, wolverine, badger, or raccoon, and\nsometimes man) and Loki. It is very remarkable indeed that the only two\nreligions in the world which possess a devil in whom _mischief_\npredominates should also give to each the same adventures, if both did\nnot come from the same source. In the Hymiskvida of the Edda, two\ngiants go to fish for whales, and then have a contest which is actually\none of heat against cold. This is so like a Micmac legend in every\ndetail that about twenty lines are word for word the same in the Norse\nand Indian. The Micmac giants end their whale fishing by trying to\nfreeze one another to death.\n\nIt is to the Rev. Silas T. Rand that the credit belongs of having\ndiscovered Glooskap, and of having first published in the Dominion\nMonthly several of these Northern legends. After I had collected nearly\na hundred among the Passamaquoddy and Penobscot Indians, this\ngentleman, with unexampled kindness, lent me a manuscript of eighty-four\nMicmac tales, making in all nine hundred folio pages. Many were\nsimilar to others in my collection, but I have never yet received a\nduplicate which did not contain something essential to the whole.\nThough the old Indians all declare that most of their lore has\nperished, especially the more recondite mythic poems, I am confident\nthat much more remains to be gathered than I have given in this work.\nAs it is, I have omitted many tales simply because they were evidently\nCanadian French stories. Yet all of these, without exception, are half\nIndian, and it may be old Norse modified; for a French story is\nsometimes the same with one in the Eddas. Again, for want of room I\nhave not given any Indian tales or chronicles of the wars with the\nMohawks. Of these I have enough to make a very curious volume.\n\nThese legends belong to all New England. Many of them exist as yet\namong the scattered fragments of Indian tribes here and there. The\nPenobscots of Oldtown, Maine, still possess many. In fact, there is not\nan old Indian, male or female, in New England or Canada who does not\nretain stories and songs of the greatest interest. I sincerely trust\nthat this work may have the effect of stimulating collection. Let every\nreader remember that everything thus taken down, and deposited in a\nlocal historical society, or sent to the Ethnological Bureau at\nWashington, will forever transmit the name of its recorder to\nposterity. Archaeology is as yet in its very beginning; when the\nIndians shall have departed it will grow to giant-like proportions, and\nevery scrap of information relative to them will be eagerly\ninvestigated. And the man does not live who knows what may be made of\nit all. I need not say that I should be grateful for such Indian lore\nof any kind whatever which may be transmitted to me.\n\nIt may very naturally be asked by many how it came to pass that the\nIndians of Maine and of the farther north have so much of the Edda in\ntheir sagas; or, if it was derived through the Eskimo tribes, how these\ngot it from Norsemen, who were professedly Christians. I do not think\nthat the time has come for fully answering the first question. There is\nsome great mystery of mythology, as yet unsolved, regarding the origin\nof the Edda and its relations with the faiths and folk-lore of the\nelder Shamanic beliefs, such as Lapp, Finn, Samoyed, Eskimo, and\nTartar. This was the world's first religion; it is found in the\nso-called Accadian Turanian beginning of Babylon, whence it possibly\ncame from the West. But what we have here to consider is whether the\nNorsemen did directly influence the Eskimo and Indians. Let us first\nconsider that these latter were passionately fond of stories, and that\nthey had attained to a very high standard of culture as regards both\nappreciation and invention. They were as fond of recitations as any\nwhite man is of reading. Their memories were in this respect very\nremarkable indeed. They have taken into their repertory during the past\ntwo hundred years many French fairy tales, through the Canadians. Is it\nnot likely that they listened to the Northmen?\n\nIt is not generally noted among our learned men how long the Icelanders\nremained in Greenland, how many stories are still told of them by the\nEskimo, or to what extent the Indians continue to mingle with the\nlatter. During the eleventh, twelfth, and thirteenth centuries, says\nthe Abbe Morillot, \"there were in Greenland, after Archbishop Adalbert,\nmore than twenty bishops, and in the colony were many churches and\nmonasteries. In the Oestrbugd, one of the two inhabited portions of the\nvast island, were one hundred and ninety villages, with twelve\nchurches. In Julianshaab, one may to-day see the ruins of eight\nchurches and of many monasteries.\" In the fifteenth century all these\nbuildings were in ruins, and the colony was exterminated by the\npestilence or the natives. But among the latter there remained many\ntraditions of the Scandinavians associated with the ruins. Such is the\nstory of Oren'gortok, given by the Abbe Morillot, and several are to be\nfound in Rink's Legends. When we learn that the Norsemen, during their\nthree centuries of occupation of Greenland, brought away many of the\nmarvelous tales of the Eskimo, it is not credible that they left none\nof their own. Thus we are told in the Floamanna Saga how a hero,\nabandoned on the icy coast of Greenland, met with two giant witches\n(Troldkoner), and cut the band from one of them. An old Icelandic work,\ncalled the Konungs Skuggsjo (Danish, Kongespeilet), has much to say of\nthe marvels of Greenland and its monsters of the sea. On the other\nhand, Morillot declares that the belief in ghosts was brought to\nGreenland by the Icelanders and Scandinavians. The sagas have not been\nas yet much studied with a view to establishing how much social\nintercourse there was between the natives and the colonists, but common\nexperience would teach that during three centuries it must have been\nsomething.\n\nThere has always been intercourse between Greenland and Labrador, and\nin this latter country we find the first Algonquin Indians. Even at the\npresent day there are men among the Micmacs and Passamaquoddies who\nhave gone on their hunting excursions even to the Eskimo. I myself know\none of the latter who has done so, and the Rev. S. T. Rand, in answer\nto a question on the subject, writes to me as follows:--\n\n\"Nancy Jeddore, a Micmac woman, assures me that her father, now dead,\nused to go as far as the wild (heathen) Eskimo, and remained once for\nthree years among the more civilized. She has so correctly described\ntheir habits that I am satisfied that her statements are correct.\"\n[Footnote: The word _Eskimo_ is Algonquin, meaning to eat raw\nfish, _Eskumoga_ in Micmac, and people who eat raw flesh, or\n_Eskimook_, that is, _eski_, raw, and _moo-uk_, people.\nThis word recalls _in-noo-uk_, people, and spirits, in Eskimo,\n_Innue_, which has the same double meaning. This was all suggested\nto me by an Indian.]\n\nThese Eskimo brought from the Old World that primeval gloomy Shaman\nreligion, or sorcery, such as is practiced yet by Laplanders and\nTartars, such as formed the basis of the old Accadian Babylonian\ncultus, and such as is now in vogue among all our own red Indians. I\nbelieve that it was from the Eskimo that this American Shamanism all\ncame. In Greenland this faith assumed its strangest form; it made for\nitself a new mythology. The Indians, their neighbors, borrowed from\nthis, but also added new elements of an only _semi_-Arctic\ncharacter. Thus there is a series of steps, but every one different,\nfrom the Eskimo to the Wabanaki, of Labrador, New Brunswick, and Maine,\nfrom the Wabanaki to the Iroquois, and from the Iroquois to the more\nwestern Indians. And while they all have incidents in common, the\ncharacter of each is radically different.\n\nIt may be specially noted that while there is hardly an important point\nin the Edda which may not be found, as I have just shown, in Wabanaki\nlegends, there is very little else in the latter which is in common\nwith such Old World mythology as might have come to the Indians since\nthe discovery by Columbus. Excluding French Canadian fairy tales, what\nwe have left is chiefly Eskimo and Eddaic, and the proportion of the\nlatter is simply surprising. There are actually more incidents taken\nfrom the Edda than there are from lower sources. I can only account for\nthis by the fact that, as the Indians tell me, all these tales were\nonce _poems_, handed down from generation to generation, and\nalways sung. Once they were religious. Now they are in a condition\nanalogous to that of the German Heldenbuch. They have been cast into a\nnew form, but they are not as yet quite degraded to the nursery tale.\n\nIt may be objected that if the Norsemen in Greenland were Christians it\nis most unlikely that they would have taught the legends of the Edda to\nthe heathen; to which I reply that some scholar a few centuries hence\nmay declare it was a most improbable thing that Christian Roman\nCatholic Indians should have taught me the tales of Glooskap and Lox.\nBut the truth is, we really know very little as to how soon wandering\nVikings went to America, or how many were here.\n\nI would say in conclusion that, while these legends of the Wabanaki are\nfragmentary and incomplete, they still read like the fragments of a\nbook whose subject was once broadly and coherently treated by a man of\ngenius. They are handled in the same bold and artistic manner as the\nNorse. There is nothing like them in any other North American Indian\nrecords. They are, especially those which are from the Passamaquoddy\nand Penobscot, inspired with a genial cosmopolite humor. While Glooskap\nis always a gentleman, Lox ranges from Punch to Satan; passing through\nthe stages of an Indian Mephistopheles and the Norse Loki, who appears\nto have been his true progenitor. But neither is quite like anything to\nbe found among really savage races. When it is borne in mind that the\nmost ancient and mythic of these legends have been taken down from the\ntrembling memories of old squaws who never understood their inner\nmeaning, or from ordinary _senaps_ who had not thought of them\nsince boyhood, it will be seen that the preservation of a mass of prose\npoems, equal in bulk to the Kalevala or Heldenbuch, is indeed almost\nmiraculous.\n\n\n\n\nTHE ALGONQUIN LEGENDS OF NEW ENGLAND.\n\nGLOOSKAP THE DIVINITY.\n\n\n\n\n_Of Glooskap's Birth, and of his Brother Malsum the Wolf._\n\n\nNow the great lord Glooskap, who was worshiped in after-days by all the\nWabanaki, or children of light, was a twin with a brother. As he was\ngood, this brother, whose name was Malsumsis, or Wolf the younger, was\nbad. Before they were born, the babes consulted to consider how they\nhad best enter the world. And Glooskap said, \"I will be born as others\nare.\" But the evil Malsumsis thought himself too great to be brought\nforth in such a manner, and declared that he would burst through his\nmother's side. [Footnote: The reader of Rabelais cannot fail to recall\nhere the remarks of the author as to the extraordinary manner in which\nit pleased the giant Gargantua to come into the world. The Armenians\nbelieve that Christ was born through the right side of the Virgin. The\nBuddhists say the same of Buddha's birth. (Heth and Moab, London,\n1883.) Another and as I believe the correct account declares that\nMalsum the Wolf was born from his mother's armpit.] And as they planned\nit so it came to pass. Glooskap as first came quietly to light, while\nMalsumsis kept his word, killing his mother.\n\nThe two grew up together, and one day the younger, who knew that both\nhad charmed lives, asked the elder what would kill him, Glooskap. Now\neach had his own secret as to this, and Glooskap, remembering how\nwantonly Malsumsis had slain their mother, thought it would be\nmisplaced confidence to trust his life to one so fond of death, while\nit might prove to be well to know the bane of the other. So they agreed\nto exchange secrets, and Glooskap, to test his brother, told him that\nthe only way in which he himself could be slain was by the stroke of an\nowl's feather, [Footnote: There are different readings of this\nincident. In Mr. Band's manuscript the alleged means of Glooskap's\ndeath is described as being a cat-tail flag (_haw-kwee-usqu'_,\nPassamaquoddy), while a handful of bird's down is the bane of Malsum\nthe Wolf. The termination _sis_ is a diminutive, here meaning the\nyounger.] though this was not true. And Malsumsis said, \"I can only die\nby a blow from a fern-root.\"\n\nIt came to pass in after-days that Kwah-beet-a-sis, the son of the\nGreat Beaver, or, as others say, Miko the Squirrel, or else the evil\nwhich was in himself, tempted Malsumsis to kill Glooskap; for in those\ndays all men were wicked. So taking his bow he shot Ko-ko-khas the Owl,\nand with one of his feathers he struck Glooskap while sleeping. Then he\nawoke in anger, yet craftily said that it was not by an owl's feather,\nbut by a blow from a pine-root, that his life would end.\n\n[Illustration: Glooskap killing his brother the wolf]\n\nThen the false man led his brother another day far into the forest to\nhunt, and, while he again slept, smote him on the head with a pine-root.\nBut Glooskap arose unharmed, drove Malsumsis away into the woods,\nsat down by the brook-side, and thinking aver all that had happened,\nsaid, \"Nothing but a flowering rush can kill me.\" But the Beaver, who\nwas hidden among the reeds, heard this, and hastening to Malsumsis told\nhim the secret of his brother's life. For this Malsumsis promised to\nbestow on Beaver whatever he should ask; but when the latter wished for\nwings like a pigeon, the warrior laughed, and scornfully said, \"Get\nthee hence; thou with a tail like a file, what need hast thou of\nwings?\"\n\nThen the Beaver was angry, and went forth to the camp of Glooskap, to\nwhom he told what he had done. Therefore Glooskap arose in sorrow and\nin anger, took a fern-root, sought Malsumsis in the deep, dark forest,\nand smote him so that he fell down dead. And Glooskap sang a song over\nhim and lamented.\n\nThe Beaver and the Owl and the Squirrel, for what they did and as they\ndid it, all come again into these stories; but Malsumsis, being dead,\nwas turned into the Shick-shoe mountains in the Gaspe peninsula.\n\nFor this chapter and parts of others I am indebted to the narrative of\na Micmac Indian, taken down by Mr. Edward Jock; also to another version\nin the Rand MS. The story is, in the main-points, similar to that given\nby David Cusick in his History of the Six Nations, of Enigorio the Good\nMind, and Enigonhahetgea, Bad Mind, to which I shall refer anon.\n\nIt is very evident that in this tradition Glooskap represents the Good\nprinciple, and Malsumsis, the little wolf,--that is the Wolf who is the\nYounger, rather than little or small,--the Evil one. Malsum typifies\ndestruction and sin in several of these tales. He will arise at the\nlast day, when Glooskap is to do battle with all the giants and evil\nbeasts of olden time, and will be the great destroyer. Malsum is the\nWolf Fenris of this the true Indian Edda.\n\nFor a further comment on this birth of the twins and its resemblance to\na passage in the Edda, the reader is referred to the notes on the next\nchapter.\n\n\n\n\n_How Glooskap made the Elves and Fairies, and then Man of an Ash\nTree, and last of all, Beasts, and of his Coming at the Last Day._\n\n(Passamaquoddy.)\n\n\nGlooskap came first of all into this country, into Nova Scotia, Maine,\nCanada, into the land of the Wabanaki, next to sunrise. There were no\nIndians here then (only wild Indians very far to the west).\n\nFirst born were the Mikumwess, the Oonabgemessuk, the small Elves,\nlittle men, dwellers in rocks.\n\nAnd in this way he made Man: He took his bow and arrows and shot at\ntrees, the basket-trees, the Ash. Then Indians came out of the bark of\nthe Ash-trees. And then the Mikumwees said ... called tree-man....\n[Footnote: The relater, an old woman, was quite unintelligible at this\npoint.]\n\nGlooskap made all the animals. He made them at first very large. Then\nhe said to Moose, the great Moose who was as tall as Ketawkqu's,\n[Footnote: A giant, high as the tallest pines, or as the clouds.] \"What\nwould you do should you see an Indian coming?\" Moose replied, \"I would\ntear down the trees on him.\" Then Glooskap saw that the Moose was too\nstrong, and made him smaller, so that Indians could kill him.\n\nThen he said to the Squirrel, who was of the size of a Wolf, \"What\nwould you do if you should meet an Indian?\" And the Squirrel answered,\n\"I would scratch down trees on him.\" Then Glooskap said, \"You also are\ntoo strong,\" and he made him little. [Footnote: Another account states\nthat Glooskap took the Squirrel in his hands and smoothed him down.]\n\nThen he asked the great White Bear what he would do if he met an\nIndian; and the Bear said, \"Eat him.\" And the Master bade him go and\nlive among rocks and ice, where he would see no Indians.\n\nSo he questioned all the beasts, changing their size or allotting their\nlives according to their answers.\n\nHe took the Loon for his dog; but the Loon absented himself so much\nthat he chose for this service two wolves,--one black and one white,\n[Footnote: Dogs are used for beasts of burden, to draw sledges, in the\nNorth.] But the Loons are always his tale-bearers. Many years ago a man\nvery far to the North wished to cross a bay, a great distance, from one\npoint to another. As he was stepping into his canoe he saw a man with\ntwo dogs,--one black and one white,--who asked to be set across. The\nIndian said, \"You may go, but what will become of your dogs?\" Then the\nstranger replied, \"Let them go round by land.\" \"Nay,\" replied the\nIndian, \"that is much too far.\" But the stranger saying nothing, he put\nhim across. And as they reached the landing place there stood the dogs.\nBut when he turned his head to address the man, he was gone. So he said\nto himself, \"I have seen Glooskap.\"\n\nYet again,--but this was not so many years ago,--far in the North there\nwere at a certain place many Indians assembled. And there was a\nfrightful commotion, caused by the ground heaving and rumbling; the\nrocks shook and fell, they were greatly alarmed, and lo! Glooskap stood\nbefore them, and said, \"I go away now, but I shall return again; when\nyou feel the ground tremble, then know it is I.\" So they will know when\nthe last great war is to be, for then Glooskap will make the ground\nshake with an awful noise.\n\nGlooskap was no friend of the Beavers; he slew many of them. Up on the\nTobaic are two salt-water rocks (that is, rocks by the ocean-side, near\na freshwater stream). The Great Beaver, standing there one day, was\nseen by Glooskap miles away, who had forbidden him that place. Then\npicking up a large rock where he stood by the shore, he threw it all\nthat distance at the Beaver, who indeed dodged it; but when another\ncame, the beast ran into a mountain, and has never come forth to this\nday. But the rocks which the master threw are yet to be seen.\n\nThis very interesting tradition was taken down by Mrs. W. Wallace Brown\nfrom a very old Passamaquoddy Indian woman named Molly Sepsis, who\ncould not speak a word of English, with the aid of another younger\nwoman named Sarah.\n\nIt will be observed that it is said in the beginning that Glooskap\nproduced the first human beings from, the ash-tree. Ash and Elm in the\nEdda were the Adam and Eve of the human race. There were no intelligent\nmen on earth--\n\n  \"Until there came three\n  mighty and benevolent\n  Aesir to the world\n  from their assembly\n  nearly powerless,\n  Ash and Embla (Ash and Elm),\n  void of destiny.\n\n  \"Spirit they possessed not,\n  sense they had not,\n  blood nor motive powers,\n  nor goodly color.\n  Spirit gave Odin,\n  sense gave Hoenir,\n  blood gave Lodur,\n  and good color.\"\n[Footnote: _The Edda of Saemund_, translated by Benjamin Thorpe.\nLondon: Trubner & Co. 1866. Voluspa, v. 17, 18.]\n\nIt is certain, however, that the _ash_ was the typic tree of all\nlife, since the next verse of the Voluspa is devoted to Yggdrasil, the\ntree of existence, or of the world itself. It may be observed that in\nthe Finnish poem of Kalevala it is by the destruction of the great oak\nthat Wainamoien, aided by the hero of the sea, causes all things to\ngrow. The early clearing away of trees, as a first step towards\nculture, may be symbolized in the shooting of arrows at the ash.\n\nThe wolf, as a beast for the deity to ride, is strongly Eddaic.\n\n  \"Magic songs they sung,\n  rode on wolves,\n  the god (Odin) and gods.\"\n[Footnote: _Rognnir og regin._ Odin and the Powers. Note by B.\nThorpe to the _Hrafnagalar Odins_, in Edda, p.30.]\n\nWe have here within a few lines, accordingly, the elm as the parent of\nmankind, and wolves as the beasts of transport for the supreme deity,\nboth in the Indian legend and in the Edda.\n\nAs Glooskap is directly declared in one tradition to keep by him as an\nattendant a being who is the course of the sun and of the seasons, it\nmay be assumed that the black and white wolf represent day and night.\n\nAgain, great stress is laid in the Glooskap legend upon the fact that\nthe last great day of battle with Malsum the Wolf and the frost-giants,\nstone-giants, and other powers of evil, shall be announced by an\nearthquake.\n\n  \"Trembles Yggdrasil's\n  Ash yet standing,\n  groans that aged tree....\n  and the Wolf runs....\n  The monster's kin goes\n  all with the Wolf....\n  The stony hills are dashed together,\n  The giantesses totter.\n  Then arises Hlin's second grief\n  When Odin goes\n  with the wolf to fight.\"\n\nWord for word, ash-tree, giantesses, the supreme god fighting with a\nwolf, and falling hills, are given in the Indian myth. This is not the\nChristian Day of Judgment, but the Norse.\n\nIn this myth Glooskap has two wolves, one black and the other white.\nThis is an indication of day and night, since he is distinctly stated\nto have as an attendant Kulpejotei, who typifies the course of the\nseasons. In the Eddas (Ragnarok) we are told that one wolf now follows\nthe sun, another the moon; one Fenris, the other Moongarm:--\n\n  \"The moon's devourer\n  In a troll's disguise.\"\n\nThe magic arrows of Glooskap are of course worldwide, and date from the\nshafts of Abaris and those used among the ancient Jews for divination.\nBut it may be observed that those of the Indian hero are like the \"Guse\narrows,\" described in Oervarodd's Saga, which always hit their mark and\nreturn to the one who shoots them. [Footnote: _The Primitive\nInhabitants of Scandinavia._ By Svent Nilsson. Edited by Sir John\nLubbock, 1868.]\n\nIt is important here to compare this _old_ Algonquin account of\nthe Creation with that of the Iroquois, or Six Nations, as given by\nDavid Cusick, himself an Indian:--\n\n\"There was a woman who was with child, with twins. She descended from\nthe higher world, and was received on the turtle. While she was in the\ndistress of travail, one of the infants in her womb was moved by an\nevil desire, and determined to pass out under the side of the parent's\narm, and the other infant endeavored in vain to prevent his design.\nThey entered the dark world by compulsion, and their mother expired in\na few minutes. One of them possessed a gentle disposition, and was\nnamed Enigorio, the Good Mind. The other possessed an insolence of\ncharacter, and was called Enigonhahetgea; that is, the Bad Mind. The\nGood Mind was not content to remain in a dark situation, and was\ndesirous to create a great light in the dark world; but the Bad Mind\nwas desirous that the world should remain in its original state. The\nGood Mind, determined to prosecute his design, began the work of\ncreation. Of his mother's head he made the sun, of her body the moon.\nAfter he had made creeks and rivers, animals and fishes, he formed two\nimages of the dust of the ground in his own likeness, male and female,\nand by his breathing into their nostrils he gave them living souls, and\nnamed them _ea gwe howe_, that is a real people; and he gave the\nGreat Island all the animals--of game for the inheritance of the\npeople.... The Bad Mind, while his brother was making the universe,\nwent through the island, and made numerous high mountains and falls of\nwater and great steeps, and also created reptiles which would be\ninjurious to mankind; but the Good Mind restored the island to its\nformer condition. The Bad Mind made two images of clay in the form of\nmankind, but while he was giving them existence they became\n_apes_. The Good Mind discovered his brother's contrivances, and\naided in giving them living souls.\n\nFinding that his brother continually thwarted him, the Good Mind\nadmonished him to behave better. The Bad Mind then offered a challenge\nto his brother, on condition that the victor should rule the universe.\nThe Good Mind was willing. He falsely mentioned that whipping with\nflags [bulrushes] would destroy his _temporal_ life, and earnestly\nsolicited his brother to observe the instrument of death, saying that\nby using deer-horns he would expire. [This is very obscure in Cusick's\nIndian-English.] On the day appointed the battle began; it lasted for\ntwo days; they tore up the trees and mountains; at last the Good Mind\ngained the victory by using the horns. The last words uttered by the\nBad Mind were that he would have equal power over the souls of mankind\nafter their death, and so sank down to eternal doom and became the Evil\nSpirit.\"\n\nContrasted with this hardly heathen cosmogony, which shows recent Bible\ninfluence throughout, the Algonquin narrative reads like a song from\nthe Edda. That the latter is the original and the older there can be no\ndoubt. Between the \"Good Mind,\" making man \"from the dust of the\nearth,\" and Glooskap, rousing him by magic arrows from the ash-tree,\nthere is a great difference. It may be observed that the fight with\nhorns is explained in another legend in this book, called the Chenoo,\nand that these horns are the magic horns of the Chepitch calm, or Great\nSerpent, who is somewhat like the dragon.\n\nIn the Algonquin story, two Loons are Glooskap's \"tale-bearers,\" which\noccasion him great anxiety by their prolonged absences. This is\ndistinctly stated in the Indian legend, as it is of Odin's birds in the\nEdda. Odin has, as news-bringers, two ravens.\n\n  \"Hugin and Munin\n  Fly each day\n  over the spacious earth.\n  I fear for Hugin\n  that he comes not back,\n  yet more anxious am I\n  for Munin.\"\n\nThe Loons, indeed, occasioned Glooskap so much trouble by absences that\nhe took wolves in their place. The ravens of the Edda are probably of\nbiblical origin. But it is a most extraordinary coincidence that the\nIndians have a corresponding perversion of Scripture, for they say that\nGlooskap, when he was in the ark, that is as Noah, sent out a white\ndove, which returned to him colored black, and became a raven. This is\nnot, however, related as part of the myth.\n\nThe Ancient History of the Six Nations, by David Cusick, gives us in\none particular a strange coincidence with the Edda. It tells us that\nthe Bad Mind, the principle of Evil, forced himself out into life, as\nCusick expresses it in his broken Indian-English, \"under the side of\nthe parent's arm;\" that is, through the armpit. In the Edda\n(Vafthrudnismal, 33) we are told of the first beings born on earth that\nthey were twins, begotten by the two feet of a giant, and born out of\nhis armpit.\n\n  \"Under the armpit grew,\n  't is said of the Hrimthurs,\n  a girl and boy together;\n  foot with foot begat,\n  of that wise Jotun,\n  a six-headed son.\"\n\nThere are in these six lines six coincidences with red Indian\nmythology: (1.) The Evil principle as a Jotun's first-born in the one\nand the Bad Mind in the other are born of the mother's armpit. (2.) In\none of the tales of Lox, the Indian devil, also a giant, we are told\nthat his feet are male and female. (3.) In both faiths this is the\nfirst birth on earth. (4.) The six-headed demon appears in a Micmac\ntale. (5.) There is in both the Eddaic and the Wabanaki account a very\nremarkable coincidence in this: that there is a Titanic or giant birth\nof twins on earth, followed by the creation of man from the ash-tree.\n(6.) The Evil principle, whether it be the Wolf-Lox, in the Wabanaki\nmyths, or Loki in the Norse, often turns himself into a woman. Thus the\nmale and female sex of the first-born twins is identified.\n\nAccording to the Edda, the order of births on earth was as follows:--\n\nFirst, two giants were born from the mother's armpit.\n\nSecondly, the dwarfs were created.\n\nThirdly, man was made from the ash-tree.\n\nAccording to the Wabanaki, this was the order:--\n\nFirst, two giants were born, _one_ from his mother's armpit.\n\nSecondly, the dwarfs (Mikumwessuk) were created from the bark of the\nash-tree.\n\nThirdly, man was made from the _trunk_ of the ash.\n\nThe account of the creation of the dwarfs is wanting in the present\nmanuscript.\n\n\n\n\n_Of the Great Deeds which Glooskap did for Men; how he named the\nAnimals, and who they were that formed his Family._\n\n(Passamaquoddy.)\n\n\n_Woodenit atbk-hagen Gloosekap_: [Footnote: Passamaquoddy.] this\nis a story of Glooskap. It is told in traditions of the old time that\nGlooskap was born in the land of the Wabanaki, which is nearest to the\nsunrise; but another story says that he came over the sea in a great\nstone canoe, and that this canoe was an island of granite covered with\ntrees. When the great man, of all men and beasts chief ruler, had come\ndown from this ark, he went among the Wabanaki. [Footnote: This part of\nthe legend is from a very singular and I may add almost unintelligible\nmanuscript, _Storey about Glooscap_, written in English by a\nPassamaquoddy Indian. The word _ark_ which occurs in it reminds me\nthat the Indian from whom I obtained it once asked me if I did not\nthink that Glooskap was the same as Noah. This sentence is as follows\nin the Indian-English of the original: \"Gloosecap hat left from ark\ncome crosse even wiht wabnocelel.\"] And calling all the animals he gave\nthem each a name: unto the Bear, _mooin_; and asked him what he\nwould do if he should meet with a man. The Bear said, \"I fear him, and\nI should run.\" Now in those days the Squirrel (_mi-ko_) was\ngreater than the Bear. Then Glooskap took him in his hands, and\nsmoothing him down he grew smaller and smaller, till he became as we\nsee him now. In after-days the Squirrel was Glooskap's dog, and when he\nso willed, grew large again and slew his enemies, however fierce they\nmight be. But this time, when asked what he would do should he meet\nwith a man, Mi-ko replied, \"I should run up a tree.\"\n\nThen the Moose, being questioned, answered, standing still and looking\ndown, \"I should run through the woods.\" And so it was with Kwah-beet\nthe Beaver, [Footnote: This is very obscure in the original manuscript.\nIt reads \"Herask beaber did do anything just look behager.\"] and\nGlooskap saw that of all created beings the first and greatest was Man.\n\nBefore men were instructed by him, they lived in darkness; it was so\ndark that they could not even see to slay their enemies. [Footnote:\nThis was read to me by an Indian from a wampum record, now kept at\nSebayk. I do not think I am mistaken in the phrase. It probably refers\nto ignorance of warlike weapons.] Glooskap taught them how to hunt, and\nto build huts and canoes and weirs for fish. Before he came they knew\nnot how to make weapons or nets. He the Great Master showed them the\nhidden virtues of plants, roots, and barks, and pointed out to them\nsuch vegetables as might be used for food, as well as what kinds of\nanimals, birds, and fish were to be eaten. And when this was done he\ntaught them the names of all the stars. He loved mankind, and wherever\nhe might be in the wilderness he was never very far from any of the\nIndians. He dwelt in a lonely land, but whenever they sought him they\nfound him. [Footnote: This is from the Rand manuscript. The writer\nremarks that these expressions were the very words of a Micmac Indian\nnamed Stephen Flood, \"who had no idea that he was using almost the\nidentical expressions of Holy Writ with reference to God.\"] He traveled\nfar and wide: there is no place in all the land of the Wabanaki where\nhe left not his name; hills, rocks and rivers, lakes and islands, bear\nwitness to him.\n\nGlooskap was never married, yet as he lived like other men he lived not\nalone. There dwelt with him an old woman, who kept his lodge; he called\nher Noogumee, \"my grandmother.\" (Micmac.) With her was a youth named\nAbistariaooch, or the Martin. (M.) And Martin could change himself to a\nbaby or a little boy, a youth or a young man, as befitted the time in\nwhich he was to act; for all things about Glooskap were very wonderful.\nThis Martin ate always from a small birch-bark dish, called\n_witch-kwed-lakun-cheech_ (M.), and when he left this anywhere\nGlooskap was sure to find it, and could tell from its appearance all that\nhad befallen his family. And Martin was called by Glooskap Uch-keen (M.),\n\"my younger brother.\" The Lord of men and beasts had a belt which gave\nhim magical power and endless strength. And when he lent this to\nMartin, the younger brother could also do great deeds, such as were\nonly done in old times.\n\nMartin lived much with the Mikumwess or Elves, or Fairies, and is said\nto have been one of them.\n\n\n\n\n_How Win-pe the Sorcerer, having stolen Glooskap's Family, was by him\npursued, and how, Glooskap for a Merry Jest cheated the Whale. Of the\nSong of the Clams, and how the Whale smoked a Pipe._\n\n(Micmac.)\n\n\n_N'kah-ne-oo_. In old times (P.), in the beginning of things, men\nwere as animals and animals as men; how this was, no one knows. But it\nis told that all were at first men, and as they gave themselves up to\nthis and that desire, and to naught else, they became beasts. But\nbefore this came to pass, they could change to one or the other form;\nyet even as men there was always something which showed what they were.\n\nNow Glooskap lived on an island named Aja-lig-un-mechk, and with him\nwere many Indians with the names and natures of animals and birds.\n\nThese men, but most of all Pulowech, the Partridge, having acquired\npower themselves, became jealous of Glooskap, and made up their minds\nto depart when he was away, taking with them Martin and the\ngrandmother. For they had great hope that Glooskap, being left alone on\nthe island, would perish, because they knew not his power. There is\nanother story which says that he was living at the mouth of the\nOolostook, at a place called Menogwes (St. John, N. B.), and went away\ninto the forest as far as Goolwahgik (Juan), and had been gone six\nweeks, when he returned home and found the old woman, whose name was\nMooinarkw, [Footnote: Mr. Rand translates this Micmac word as Mrs.\nBear.] and Martin had been taken away. Following their tracks to the\nshore he saw one of his greatest enemies, a terrible sorcerer named\nWin-pe, just pushing off in his canoe. And with him were his wife and\nchild and Dame Bear and Martin. They were still within call, and\nGlooskap cried from the shore to the grandmother to send back his dogs,\nwhich were not larger than mice, and, as some stories tell us, were\nsquirrels. So she took a _woltes-takun_, which is a small wooden\nplatter, and on such Indian dice are tossed. This she put in the water,\nand placed the dogs on it, and it floated to the shore, and Glooskap\ntook it up. Win-pe with his family and prisoners pushed on to\nPassamoogwaddy (M.), and thence to Grand Manan; and after remaining\nthere a while he crossed over to Kes-poog-itk (Yarmouth), and so went\nslowly along the southern coast through Oona-mahgik (Cape Breton), and\nover to Uktukkamkw (Newfoundland), where he was slain.\n\nNow whether it was to gain magical power, or to weaken that of Win-pe,\nor to chasten the others by suffering, who knows? But Glooskap rested\nseven years alone before he pursued the enemy, though some say it was\nseven months. And when the time had come, he took his dogs and went to\nthe shore, and looked far out to sea over the waves, and sang the magic\nsong which the whales obey. [Footnote: In the _Tales and Traditions\nof the Eskimo_, by Dr. Henry Rink, we are told in the story of\nAkigsiak that an old man taught the hero a magic lay for luring a whale\nto him. In another, Katersparsuk sings such a song to the walrus.] Soon\nthere rose in the distance a small whale, who had heard the call, and\ncame to Glooskap; but he was then very great, and he put one foot on\nthe whale to test his weight, and the fish sank under him. So he sent\nit away.\n\nThen the lord of men and beasts sang the song again, and there came the\nlargest, a mighty female, and she bore him well and easily over to\nKes-poog-itk. But she was greatly afraid of getting into shoal water,\nor of running ashore, and this was what Glooskap wished her to do that he\nmight not wet his feet. So as she approached she asked him if land were\nin sight. But he lied, and said \"No.\" So she went on rapidly.\n\nHowever, she saw shells below, and soon the water grew so shoal that\nshe said in fear, \"_Moon-as-taba-kan-kari-jean-nook_? (M.) Does\nnot the land show itself like a bow-string?\" And he said, \"We are still\nfar from land.\"\n\nThen the water grew so shoal that she heard the song of the Clams as\nthey lay under the sand, singing to her that she should throw him off\nand drown him. For these Clams were his deadly enemies. But Bootup the\nWhale did not understand their language, so she asked her rider--for he\nknew Clam--what they were chanting to her. And he replied in a song:--\n\n  \"They tell you to hurry (_cussal_) (M),\n  To hurry, to hurry him along,\n  Over the water,\n  Away as fast as you can!\"\n\nThen the Whale went like lightning, and suddenly found herself high on\nthe shore. Then she lamented and sang:--\n\n  \"Alas, my grandchild (_noojeech_),\n  Ah, you have been my death;\n  I can never leave the land,\n  I shall swim in the sea no more.\"\n\nBut Glooskap sang:--\n\n  \"Have no fear, _noogumee_,\n  You shall not suffer,\n  You shall swim in the sea once more.\"\n\n[Illustration: GLOOSKAP LOOKING AT THE WHALE SMOKING HIS PIPE]\n\nThen with a push of his bow against her head he sent her off into deep\nwater. And the Whale rejoiced greatly. But ere she went she said, \"Oh,\nmy grandson, _K'teen pehabskwass n'aga tomawe_?\" (P.). \"Hast thou\nnot such a thing as an old pipe and some tobacco?\" He replied,--\n\n  \"Ah yes.\n  You want tobacco,\n  I behold you.\"\n\nSo he gave her a short pipe and some tobacco, and thereunto a light.\nAnd the Whale, being of good cheer, sailed away, smoking as she went,\nwhile Glooskap, standing silent on the shore, and ever leaning on his\nmaple bow, beheld the long low cloud which followed her until she\nvanished in the far away.\n\nIn a Passamaquoddy tale of Pook-jin-skwess the Witch, the Clams sing a\nsong deriding the hero. The words are:--\n\n  \"Mow chow nut-pess sell\n  Peri marm-hole wett.\"\n\nThese words are not Indian, but they are said to mean,--\n\n  You look very funny with your long hair streaming in the wind,\n  And sailing on a snail's horn.\n\nThe large Clams sing this in a bass voice, the small ones in falsetto.\nThe gypsies say that a Snail, when put on a pie, utters four cries, or\nsqueaks; hence in Germany the Romany call it _Stargoli_: that is,\n_shtor-godli_, four cries.\n\n\n\n\n_Of the Dreadful Deeds of the Evil Pitcher, who was both Man and\nWoman, and how she fell in love with Glooskap, and, being scorned,\nbecame his Enemy. Of the Toads and Porcupines, and the Awful Battle of\nthe Giants._\n\n(Passamaquoddy.)\n\n\nWhen Glooskap came into the world it abounded in giants, monsters,\nsorcerers and witches, fiends and devils. Among the witches there was,\none whom the Passamaquoddy call Pook-jin-skwess, or the Pitcher.\n[Footnote: It is not impossible that this well-known Indian witch gave\nher name to Moll Pitcher, the famous fortune-teller of Lynn.] And they\nhave a legend that she once fell in love with Glooskap when he was\nyoung and had not gained the power of his riper age. He fled before\nher, and she pursued him. It was a dreadful flight, since to make rapid\nsteps both took the form of giants by their _m'-te-oulin_ (P.), or\nmagic power. It was like an awful storm in winter, the wind chasing the\ncloud; it was like a frightful tempest in summer, the lightning chasing\nthe thunder. As the snow lay deep, both had snow-shoes on. When they\ncame to the shore Glooskap leaped from the main-land to the island of\nGrand Manan, [Footnote: A leap of about nine miles.] and so escaped\nher. Now the snow-shoes of Glooskap were _sams'ook_ (P.), or\nround, while those of Pook-jin-skwess were long and pointed, [Footnote:\nThe Penobscots give the long shoes to Glooskap.] and the marks of them\nas they jumped are to be seen deep in the rocks to this day.\n\nWhen Glooskap came to the camp, which was at Ogumkegeak (M.), now called\nLiverpool, he found no one. But there lay the _witch-kwed-lakun-cheech_\n(M.), or birch-bark dish of Martin, and from it, or, as another legend\nstates, from an old man and woman who dwelt hard by, he learned that\nWin-pe and the families had been gone for seven years, along a road\nguarded by wicked and horrible beings, placed by Win-pe to prevent the\nGreat Master from finding him. For it was a great triumph for him to\nkeep Glooskap's friends as slaves, and all the land spoke thereof.\n\nAnd these monsters were Pook-jin-skwess, or the Evil Pitcher herself,\nin many forms; for she could be man or woman, [Footnote: In the\n_Tales and Traditions_ of the Eskimo, we are told that a woman\nnamed Arnakuak, being apparently gifted by magic with the ability to\nchange her sex, had her daughter-in-law; Ukuamak, for a wife, and,\nhaving eloped with her, was followed and killed by her own son. As this\nis almost immediately followed by a story of a man who gave birth to a\nchild, it would appear that the idea was common to both Eskimo and\nIndians. Only the wicked magicians in Indian tales change their sex,\nlike Loki in the Edda.] or many of them, and also several girls, when\nshe willed it. Now it is a great part of Indian _m'teoulin_ (P.)\nto know what one's enemies are planning and plotting, and all their\ntricks and darkened paths; and in this Glooskap went beyond them all,\nfor before his time every one went his own way, even in wickedness. But\nGlooskap first of all threw out his soul unto others.\n\nAnd when he came to Ogumkeok he found a hut, and in it, seated over a\nfire, the ugliest old hag he had ever seen, trembling in every limb, as\nif near death, dirty, ragged, and loathsome in all ways. Looking up at\nhim with bleared eyes, she begged him to gather her a little firewood,\nwhich he did. And then she prayed him to free her from the _wah\ngook_(M.), or vermin, with which she was covered, and which were\nmaddening her with their bites. These were all devils in disguise, the\nspirits of foul poison, such as she deemed must kill even the Master.\nNow Glooskap, foreseeing all this, had taken with him, as he came, from\na bog many cranberries. And bidding Pook-jin-skwess bend over, he began\nto take from her hair the hideous vermin, and each, as he took it,\nbecame a horrid porcupine or toad. [Footnote: In the Eskimo mythology,\n_Arnarkuagsak_, the old woman of the sea, is tormented by vermin\nabout her head. These are really the souls of still-born or murdered\ninfants, who have become imps. The first thing which the _angakok_\nor sorcerer, who visits her must do is to free her from these pests.\nThe descent of the sorcerer to this mother of all the monsters of the\nsea, who are at the same time _giants_, when they choose to assume\nthe human form, recalls that of Odin to Hela. Both make this journey to\nhell, not for themselves, but in the interests of mankind.] Then the\nhag asked, \"Have you found one?\" \"I have,\" replied the Master.\n\"_Basp_!\" (M.) \"Crush it!\" was her answer, and Glooskap crushed a\ncranberry; and she, hearing the noise, thought that he had done as she\nbid, and that the poison on his fingers would penetrate to his life.\nBut he put the imps, one by one, under the wooden platter, which lay\nbefore him. As this went on he put the witch to sleep. When she awoke\nhe was gone. The foul porcupines and toads were swarming all over the\nground, having upset their hive. And filled with fury at being made a\njest of, since it was a great despite that he had not even found it\nworth while to kill her when asleep, she burst out into her own form,\nwhich was beautiful as sin, wild as the devil, and gathering up all her\nimps, and making herself far more magical by fiercer will, went onward\nto encounter him again.\n\nThen Glooskap came to a narrow pass in the hills. Here were two\nterrible beasts, as one story has it, or two monstrous dogs, [Footnote:\nThe Indians had dogs before the coming of the whites. They were\nwolf-like.] as it is told in another. And they attacked him; but he set\nhis own at them, and they, growing to tremendous size, killed the others.\nHis dogs were so trained that when called to come off they went on, and\nthe more they were bid to be quiet the more they bit.\n\nSoon he came to the top of a high hill, and looking thence over all the\nland saw afar off a large wigwam, and knew in his heart that an enemy\ndwelt therein. And coming to it he found an old man and his two\ndaughters. [Footnote: In another account, an old sorceress and her\ndaughters; also an old man and his wife and daughters. According to two\nversions, these are all separate wizards, but the whole spirit of the\nPassamaquoddy legends make them Pook-jin-skwess alone.] Now the girls\ncame out greeting [Footnote: In the story of the Rabbit and Lusifee the\nsorcerer singly twice assumes the form of an old man and his two\ndaughters. There is yet another story, in which a magician thus triples\nhimself with two daughters. It is, I believe, Eskimo, but I cannot\ndistinctly remember as to this.] him with very pleasant glances, wooing\nsoftly and sweetly; they offered him a string of sausages, such as the\nIndians make from the entrails of the bear by only turning them inside\nout. For the fat, which clings to the outside, fills the skin. When\nthese are washed and dried and smoked, many deem them delicious. But\nthese which the girls offered, as girls do, to show their love, by\ncasting the string round the neck of the favored youth, were enchanted,\nand had they once put the necklace upon him he would have been\noverpowered. However, they knew not of this new magic which the Master\nhad brought into the land, by which one can read the heart; so, as they\nsidled up unto him with smiles and blandishments, waving in the wind as\nthey danced their garlands of enchanted sausages, he looked as if he\nwanted to be won. And when his dogs growled at them he cried,\n\"_Cuss_!\" (M.), which means _Stop_! but which the dogs only\nknew as \"Hie, at them!\" So they flew at the witches, and these flashed\nup like fire into their own dreadful forms of female fiends. Then there\nwas a terrible tumult, for never before in the land of the Wabanaki had\nthere been such a battle. All the earth and rocks around were torn up.\nAll the while the Master cried to the dogs, \"Stop! These are my\nsisters. Come off, ye evil beasts! Let them alone! Cease, oh cease!\"\nYet the more he exhorted them to peace the more they inclined to war,\nand the more fiercely they fought, until the witches fled.\n\n[Illustration: GLOOSKAP SETTING HIS DOGS ON THE WITCHES]\n\nThen he entered the wigwam where the old sorcerer sat, waiting for him\nas food. And the Master said, \"Are you hungry? Or do you love sausages?\nHere they are!\" Instantly casting the links around his neck, he was\ntaken, and Glooskap slew him with one blow.\n\nThen, going on, he reached the Strait of Camsoke [Footnote: Camsoke\nmeans, \"There is a high bluff on the opposite side of the river.\"--S.\nT. Rand.] (M.), or Canso, and to cross over again sang the song which\nwins the whales, and one of these rising, carried him to the opposite\nshore. Thence he made the circle of Oona-mah-gik, keeping round by the\nsouthern coast, and coming to the old camps where his enemy had been.\nFrom the _witch-kwed-lakun-cheech_, or birch-bark dish, left by\nMartin, he learned how long they had been gone. [Footnote: As the gypsy\nleaves his _patteran_, or sign, so the Indian makes marks which\nset forth clearly enough how long he has camped at any place, and how\nmany were in the party, etc. It may be supposed that Martin, not daring\nto attract Win-pe's attention, effected this by a few secret scratches.\nThus three lines and a crescent or moon would mean three nights.] When\nhe came to Uk-tu-tun (M., Cape North) he found they had rowed to\nUk-tuk-amqw (M., Newfoundland), and had left three days before.\n\nThen again he sang, and once more a whale carried him over. And now he\nknew that he was indeed coming to what he sought, for in the deserted\ncamp he found the embers of a fire, still smoking. Advancing rapidly,\nhe saw near the next camp Martin, seeking wood to burn. The youth and\nthe old Dame Bear had been most cruelly treated by Win-pe, and they\nwere nearly starved, but Martin's clothes were good. [Footnote: There\nis a reason for this singular detail. Nancy Jeddore, the Indian from\nwhom Mr. Rand learned one version of this legend, informed him that the\nMartin, thin at all times, always has a fine fur, however starved he\nmay be. Dying with hunger, he is always well dressed.] And Martin was\nso sunk in sorrow that he did not hear Glooskap call him, and not till\nthe Master threw a small stick at him did he look up, and even then he\nthought it had fallen from a tree. Then, seeing him, he cried out with\njoy; but Glooskap, who was hiding in the woods, bade him be silent.\n\"Wait till it is dark,\" he said, \"and I will go to your wigwam. Now you\nmay go home and tell your grandmother.\"\n\nIn the other story (M.) it is narrated that as Martin with the\ngrandmother were on the road, and Dame Bear bore him as almost a babe\non her back, he turned his head and saw Glooskap following them, and\ncried out,--\n\n  \"Where, oh where,\n  Where is my brother?\n  He who fed me often\n  On the marrow of the moose!\"\n\nAnd she replied,--\n\n  \"Alas for thee, boy!\n  He is far, far away;\n  You will see him no more.\"\n\nBut the little fellow, seeing him again, sang as before, and Dame Bear,\nturning her head and beholding her Master, was so moved that she\nfainted and fell to the ground. Then Glooskap raised her in his arms,\nand when she had recovered she related how cruelly they had been\ntreated by Win-pe. And Glooskap said, \"Bear with him yet a little\nwhile, for I will soon pay him in full for what he has done.\"\n\nThen the Master bade the old woman go back to the camp with Martin, and\nsay nothing. It was the youth's duty to go for water and tend the baby\nin its swinging cot. And Glooskap told him all that he should do. When\nhe should bring water he must mix with it the worst filth, and so offer\nit to Win-pe, the sorcerer.\n\nAnd even as he ordered it was done, and Martin meekly offered the foul\ndrink to the evil man, who at the smell of it cried aloud, \"_Uk\nsay_!\" (M., Oh, horror!) and bade him bring a cleaner cup. But\nMartin, bearing the babe, threw it into the fire, and, running to the\nspot where Glooskap hid, cried out, \"_Nse-sako! nse-sako_!\" (M.,\nMy brother! my brother!) Win-pe, pursuing him, said, \"Cry out to him;\nyour brother cannot help you now. He is far away from here, on the\nisland where I left him. Cry out well, for now you must die!\" All this\nhad been done that Win-pe's power might be put to sleep by anger, and\nhis mind drawn to other things. And the Master rose before him in all\nhis might, and stepped forward, while Win-pe drew backward a pace to\nrecover his strength. And with great will the Master roused all the\nmagic within him, and, as it came, he rose till his head was above the\ntallest pine; and truly in those days trees were giants beyond those of\nthis time. But the lord of men and beasts laughed as he grew till his\nhead was far above the clouds and reached the stars, and ever higher,\ntill Win-pe was as a child at his feet. And holding the man in scorn,\nand disdaining to use a nobler weapon, he tapped the sorcerer lightly\nwith the end of his bow, like a small dog, and he fell dead.\n\n\n\n\n_How the Story of Glooskap and Pook-jin-skwess, the Evil Pitcher, is\ntold by the Passamaquoddy Indians_. [Footnote: In this story\nGlooskap is called Pogumk, the Black Cat or Fisher, that is, a species\nof wild cat, while Martin is a N'mockswess, sable. There seems to be no\nsettled idea as to what was the _totem_ or innate animal nature of\nthe lord of men and beasts. I have a series of pictures scraped on\nbirch-bark illustrating these myths, executed by a Passamaquoddy, in\nwhich Glooskap and the adopted grandmother in the stone canoe are\nrepresented as wood-chucks, or ground-hogs. (Mon-in-kwess, P.)]\n\n(Passamaquoddy.)\n\n\nThere was a village of Indians who were all Black Cats, or Po'gum'k.\nOne of them, the cleverest and bravest, went forth every day with bow\nand arrow, tomahawk and knife, and killed moose and bear, and sent meat\nto the poor, and so he fed them all. When he returned they came to him\nto know where his game lay, and when he had told them they went forth\nwith toboggins [Footnote: Toboggin, a sled made very simply by turning\nup the ends of one or more pieces of wood to prevent them from catching\nin the snow.] and returned with them loaded with meat. And the chief of\nthe Black Cats was by his mother the son of a bear. [Footnote: A\nconfused but important point in all these myths.]\n\nPook-jin-skwess, the Witch, was a Black Cat. She was a woman or a man\nas she willed to be; but in these days she was a man. And she, being\nevil, hated the chief, and thought long how she could kill or remove\nhim, and take his place. Now, one day when all the camp had packed what\nthey had, being about to travel, Pitcher asked the chief to go with\nhim, or with her, as you may will, down to the water-side to gather\ngulls' eggs. And then they went far out in a canoe, and very far, and\nstill farther, till they came to an island, and there they landed, and\nwhile Pogumk (who was Glooskap) sought for eggs, the false-hearted\nPitcher stole away in the _akweden_ (P., canoe), and as she\npaddled she sang a song--\n\n  \"Nikhed-ha Pogumk min nekuk,\n  Netswil sagamawin!\" (P)\n\n  \"I have left the Black Cat on an island,\n  I shall be the chief of the Fishers now!\"\n\nSo she came to the village, and the next day they all departed through\nthe woods; there was not one of them left save the one who was worth\nthem all. And at night they camped, expecting every day that the chief\nwould come to them, and till then Pitcher was in his place.\n\nNow on the thirtieth day the chief remembered his friend the Fox, who\nhad _m'teoulin_ (P.), or magic power. And he sang a song, and the\nFox heard it, although he was miles away, beyond forests and mountains.\nAnd thus knowing all, he went to the shore and swam to the island,\nwhere he found the chief. At this time the Black Cat could not swim\nsuch a distance, [Footnote: The most powerful _manitous_, or\nmagicians, in the Chippeway tales, as well as in all others of the\nIndians, may exhaust their power and be forced to depend on that of\ninferiors in the great art. In this tale Glooskap is decidedly under a\ncloud.] but the Fox offered to take him to the mainland. Then they\nwaded into the water, and the Fox said, \"Close thine eyes and hold fast\nto my tail as tightly as thou canst, and be of good faith, oh, my elder\nbrother, and we shall soon gain the shore.\" Saying this, he swam away\nand his friend followed. And it went well with them, but the chief grew\nweary, and he opened one eye a little, and saw that they were not ten\nfeet from the shore. And being of little faith he thought, for he spoke\nnot aloud, \"We shall never get to land.\" But the Fox replied, \"Do not\nbelieve it.\" But the journey lasted long, for what seemed to Pogumk to\nbe ten feet was ten miles, and the wind was high and the waters were\nwild, for Pitcher had called forth a storm. So they swam all day and\nall the evening before they landed. \"And now, my elder brother,\" said\nthe Fox, \"you may go your way.\" And he went to the camp of the Black\nCats.\n\nWhen he came to the camp it was cold, and there were only ashes, for\nthe people had gone on. So he followed them, and in one day came near\nthem. And the first whom he overtook was his mother, bearing his\nyounger brother Sable ('Nmmok-swess, P.) on her back, so that while she\nlooked forward he looked behind. And as Pogumk peeped out from among\nthe leaves, Sable saw him, and said, \"Here comes my brother!\" And she\nturned, but saw nothing, for the chief suddenly hid himself behind a\ntree. Then they went on, and Sable cried again, \"Indeed, mother, I\nbehold my elder brother!\" And this time the mother, glancing quickly,\ncaught him, and they all laughed for joy, and she threw Sable down in\nthe leaves, like a stick. Then the chief bade Sable run to the camp.\n\"And when you are there,\" he said, \"build up a great fire of hemlock\nbark, and take Pitcher's babe, even the babe which she loves, and which\nyou tend, and throw it into the fire, and run to me as fast as you can,\nfor verily thou wilt be in dire need to do so.\"\n\nAnd as he commanded it was done; and when the fire was hot, Sable threw\nthe babe into it, and it was burned to death. And Pitcher, being, as\none may well believe, maddened at such a sight, pursued him as a\nstarving wolf pursues a rabbit. Then Sable, in great fear, cried aloud,\n\"Oh, my elder brother, my brother!\" And Pitcher screamed, \"Call aloud\nto him, for you must run as far as the island where Pogumk is, to save\nyourself!\" And at that word Pogumk stepped forward and confronted her,\nand said, \"Truly, she need not run so far.\"\n\nAnd seeing him and hearing this, fear came upon her; but she laughed\naloud to hide it, and said, \"I did but chase him in sport, for I love\nSable.\" But Pogumk replied grimly, \"I know thee and thy tricks, thou\nthe evil one.\" Then, as his magic had come to him, he used his power,\nand put Pitcher with her back against a tree; and there she stayed,\nstuck to it, unable to get away. But the chief and Sable went to the\ncamp. Now Pitcher had a hatchet and wedge, and with much ado she cut\nherself away, and the Black Cats heard her pounding and chopping all\nnight long. And in the morning she came to them, and there was a great\npiece of wood sticking to her back, and they laughed her to scorn, and\nsang at her,--\n\n  \"He who made the chief\n  Stay on a distant island,\n  He is stuck by the chief\n  Fast with his back to a tree.\"\n\nNow Pitcher the Witch, being mad with shame and spite, fled from the\nface of man, and ran through the woods like a wild wolf. And so she\ncame to Bar Harbor (Pes'sonkqu', P.), and sat down on a log, and said,\nwith her heart full of bitterness and malice, \"I would that I could\nbecome something which should torment all men.\" And as she said this\nshe became a mosquito (T'sis-o, P.), and so it came to pass that\nmosquitoes were made. And to this day men see that wherever the Black\nCat is, there too is the Sable not far away. [Footnote: The\nPassamaquoddy version relates that Pitcher in her flight pursued a\nmoose to Bar Harbor, where, having killed him and drawn out the\nentrails, she petrified him. A Penobscot woman told me she had often\nseen the moose rock there, and the \"inments.\" But she attributed the\ndeed to Glooskap, to whom it properly belongs, his petrified moose and\ndogs and the print of his bow, etc., being still shown in Nova Scotia;\nand it is also said that it was at Freshwater, after returning from Bar\nHarbor (Maine), that Pitcher was changed into a mosquito. Another story\nstates that Pook-jin-skwess, having pursued young men all her life,\nchanged into a mosquito that she might continue to prey on them.]\n\nOf this Pook-jin-skwess it was said that she had children of her own,\nbegotten by sorcerers and giants and monsters; but as they were all\nugly she stole from the Indian women their fairest babes, and brought\nthem up as if they were her own, that she might not be entirely put to\nshame because of her children. And once she had thus stolen a boy, and\nwhen he grew up some one said to him that he should not believe that\nshe was his mother, but should question her as to it. Now the youth,\nreflecting on this, observed that his brothers and sisters were all as\nugly as evil beasts and no better behaved, while he himself was comely\nand good. Then he asked her what this might mean. And she replied,\nlaughing, \"Because they were all begotten (or born) in the night-time,\nbut you are a child of the day and of light.\" [Footnote: There is\nprobably an allusion in this to the Wabanaki, or Children of Light;\nthat is, the Algonquin. This story was told me by Noel Josephs, a\nPassamaquoddy. I have been told by an old Passamaquoddy woman that the\ndescendants of Pook-jin-skwess were the 'Nmmok-skwess. This stealing\nthe white boy is related in another tale more folly. It may refer to\nthe early dark Eskimo.]\n\n\n\n\n_How Glooskap became friendly to the Loons, and made them his\nMessengers._\n\n(Micmac.)\n\n\nWhen Glooskap was pursuing Win-pe, he one day on Uktukamkw saw from\nafar flying over water the Kwe-moo (M.), or Loons. And thrice did their\nchief make the circle of the lake, coming near to the land of men and\nbeasts every time, as if he would fain seek somewhat. Then Glooskap\nasking him what he wanted, Kwe-moo replied that he would be his servant\nand friend. So Glooskap taught him a strange long cry like the howl of\na dog, and when the loons were in need of him or would pray to him they\nwere to utter this cry.\n\nAnd it came to pass that when he was in Newfoundland he came to an\nIndian town, and they who dwelt therein were all Kwee-moo-uk, or Loons.\nAnd they, as men, were exceeding glad to see their lord, who had\nblessed them as birds, and did their best to please him. So he made\nthem his huntsmen and messengers, and in all the tales of Glooskap the\nKweemoo ever appears as faithful to him. Whence to this day, when the\nIndians hear the cry of the Loon, they say, \"_Kwemoo el-komik-too-ajul\nGloocapal_\" (He is calling upon Glooskap).\n\n\n\n\n_How Glooskap made his Uncle Mikchich the Turtle into a Great Man,\nand got him a Wife. [Footnote: This legend of the tortoise is carefully\ncompiled from six different versions: the narration of Tomah Josephs, a\nPassamaquoddy; the Anglo-Indian manuscript, already cited; two accounts\nin the Rand manuscript; the author quoted without credit in _The\nMaritime Provinces_; and one by Mrs. W. Wallace Brown. As the totem\nof the Tortoise was of the highest rank among the Algonquins, this\naccount of its origin is of corresponding interest. Having employed an\nold Indian to carve the handle of a war or scalping knife for me, such\nas was used by his Passamaquoddy ancestors, he carved on it a tortoise.\nIt was especially the totem of the Lenni-Lenape, called by the\nPassamaquoddies _Lel-le-mabe_, \"the people.\"] Of Turtles' Eggs,\nand how Glooskap vanquished a Sorcerer by smoking Tobacco._\n\n(Micmac and Passamaquoddy.)\n\n\nNow when Glooskap left Uktukamkw, or Newfoundland, it was in a canoe,\nand he came to Piktook (M. for Pictou), which means the bubbling up of\nair, because there is much bubbling in the water near that place. And\nhere there was an Indian village, and in that place the Master met with\na man whom he loved all his life.\n\nAnd this was not because this man, whose name in Micmac is Mikchich and\nin Passamaquoddy Chick-we-notchk, meaning the Turtle, was great, or\nwell favored, or rich. For truly he was none of these, being very poor\nand lazy, no longer young, and not very clever or wise in any way. It\nis said that he was indeed Glooskap's uncle, but others think that this\nwas by adoption. However, this old fellow bore all his wants with such\ngood nature that the Master, taking him in great affection, resolved to\nmake of him a mighty man. Which came to pass, and that in a strange\nmanner, as we shall see.\n\nFor coming to Piktook, where there were above a hundred wigwams,\nGlooskap, being a very handsome, stately man, with the manner of a\ngreat chief, was much admired, and that not a little by all the women,\nso that every one wished to have him in the house. Yet he gave them all\nthe go-by, and dwelt with his old uncle, in whose quaint ways and\nold-time stories he took great delight. And there was to be a great\nfeast with games, but Glooskap did not care to go, either as a guest\nor a performer in the play.\n\nStill he inquired of Mikchich if he would not take part in it, telling\nhim that all the maidens would be there, and asking him why he had\nnever married, and saying that he should not live alone. Then the uncle\nsaid: \"Poor and old and plain am I; I have not even garments fit for a\nfeast; better were it for me to smoke my pipe at home.\" \"Truly, if that\nbe all, uncle,\" replied Glooskap, \"I trow I can turn tailor and fit you\nto a turn; and have no care as to your outside or your face, for to him\nwho knows how, 't is as easy to make a man over as a suit of clothes.\"\n\"Yes; but, nephew,\" said Mikchich, \"how say you as to making over the\ninside of a mortal?\" \"By the great Beaver!\" answered the Master, \"that\nis something harder to do, else I were not so long at work in this\nworld. But before I leave this town I shall do that also for you; and\nas for this present sport, do but put on my belt.\" And when he had done\nthat, Mikchich became so young and handsome that no man or woman ever\nsaw the like. And then Glooskap dressed him in his own best clothes,\nand promised him that to the end of his days, whenever he should be a\nman, he would be the comeliest of men; and because he was patient and\ntough, he should, as an animal, become the hardest to kill of all\ncreatures on the face of the earth, as it came to pass.\n\nSo Mikchich went to the feast. Now the chief of Piktook had three\nbeautiful daughters, and the youngest was the loveliest in the land.\nAnd on her he cast his eyes, and returning said, \"I have seen one whom\nI want.\" Now all the young men in Piktook desired this girl, and would\nkill any one who would win her.\n\nSo the next day Glooskap, taking a bunch of _wawbap_ (P., wampum),\nwent, to the chief and proposed for Mikchich, [Footnote: All invitations\nto festivals, or formal ceremonies, proposals of marriage, etc., were\npreceded among these tribes by a gift of wampum.] and the mother at\nonce said \"Yes.\" So the girl made up a bed of fresh twigs and covered\nit with a great white bear-skin, and went to Mikchich, and they\nreturned and had dried meat for supper. So they were married.\n\nNow Turtle seemed to be very lazy; and when others hunted he lounged at\nhome. One day his young wife said to him that if this went on thus they\nmust soon starve. So he put on his snow-shoes and went forth, and she\nfollowed him to see what he would do. And he had not gone far ere he\ntripped and fell down, and the girl, returning, told her mother that he\nwas worthless. But the mother said, \"He will do something yet. Be\npatient.\"\n\nOne day it came to pass that Glooskap said to Mikchich, \"To-morrow\nthere will be a great game at ball, and you must play. But because you\nhave made yourself enemies of all the young men here, they will seek to\nslay you, by crowding all together and trampling upon you. And when\nthey do this it will be by your father-in-law's lodge, and to escape\nthem I give you the power to jump high over it. This you may do twice,\nbut the third time will be terrible for you, and yet it must be.\"\n\nAll this happened as he foretold; for the young men indeed tried to\ntake his life, and to escape them Mikchich jumped over the lodge, so\nthat he seemed like a bird flying. But the third time he did this he\nwas caught on the top of the tent-poles, and hung there dangling in the\nsmoke which rose from below.\n\n[Illustration: THE MUD TURTLE JUMPING OVER THE WIGWAM OF HIS\nFATHER-IN-LAW.]\n\nThen Glooskap, who was seated in the tent, said, \"Uncle, I will now\nmake you the _sogmo_, or great chief of the Tortoises, and you\nshall bear up a great nation.\" Then he smoked Mikchich [Footnote: In a\nverbal Passamaquoddy narrative (John Gabriel), and in one given in\n_The Maritime Provinces_, this was effected by Glooskap with\ntobacco-smoke from his pipe. In Mr. Rand's manuscript it is the smoke\nof the tent-fire. The Passamaquoddy narrations are invariably more\nspirited and _humorous_ than the Micmac.] so long that his skin\nbecame a hard shell, and the marks of the smoke may be seen thereon to\nthis day. And removing his entrails he destroyed them, so that but one\nshort one was left. And he cried aloud, \"_Milooks_! (M.) My\nnephew, you will kill me!\" But the nephew replied, \"Not so. I am giving\nyou great life. From this time you may roll through a flame and never\nfeel it, and live on land or in the water. And though your head be cut\noff, it will live for nine days, and your heart, even, shall beat as\nlong when taken from your body.\" So Mikchich rejoiced greatly.\n\nAnd this came betimes, for he soon had need of it all. For the next day\nall the men went on a hunt, and the Master warned him that they would\nseek to slay him. Now the young men went on before, and Turtle lingered\nbehind; but all at once he made a magic flight far over their heads,\nunseen, and deep in the forest he slew a moose. Then he drew this to\nthe snow-shoe track or road, and when his foes came up there he sat\nupon the moose, smoking, and waiting for them. Now Glooskap had told\nthem that they would see some one come out ahead of them all that day,\nand when this came to pass they were more angered in their hearts than\never.\n\nSo they plotted to kill Turtle, and his nephew, who was about to leave,\ntold him how it would be. \"First of all, they will build a mighty fire\nand throw you in it. But do thou, O uncle, go cheerfully, for by my\npower thou wilt in nowise suffer. Then they will speak of drowning, but\nthou must beg and pray that this may not be; and then they will the\nmore seek to do so, and thou shalt fight them to the bitter end, and\nyet it shall be.\"\n\nAnd as he said, so it came to pass; and Mikchich, being of good cheer,\nbade farewell to his nephew. [Footnote: This is amusingly, though not\nvery clearly, set forth in the Indian manuscript as follows: \"Make\nbelieve but you dond want be trown. So he shaken hands witt is nuncel\nkick hororch good by do him. Tell is uncle you--I shall not be kill and\nI am going Lever (to live)--we may meet again.\"] And they seized him\nand threw him into a great fire, but he turned over and went to sleep\nin it, being very lazy; and when the fire had burnt out he awoke, and\ncalled for more wood, because it was a cold night.\n\nThen they seized him yet again, and spoke of drowning. But, hearing\nthis, he, as if he were in mortal dread, begged them not to do this\nthing. And he said they might cut him to pieces, or burn him, as they\nwould, but not to throw him into the water. [Footnote: This in the\noriginal is extremely like Brer Rabbit's prayer not to be thrown into\nthe brier-bush. As this legend is one of the oldest of the Algonquin,\nand certainly antedating the coming of the whites, I give it the\npriority over the negro.] Therefore they resolved to do so, and dragged\nhim on. Then he screamed horribly and fought lustily, and tore up trees\nand roots and rocks like a madman; but they took him into a canoe and\npaddled out into the middle of the lake (or to the sea), and, throwing\nhim in, watched him sink as he vanished far down below. So they thought\nhim dead, and returned rejoicing.\n\nNow the next day at noon there was a hot sunshine, and something was\nseen basking on a great rock, about a mile out in the lake. So two\nyoung men took a canoe and went forth to see what this might be. And\nwhen they came to the edge of the rock, which was about a foot high,\nthere lay Mikchich sunning himself; but seeing them coming to take him,\nhe only said, \"Good-by,\" and rolled over plump into the water, where he\nis living to this day. In memory whereof all turtles, when they see any\none coming, tip-tilt themselves over into the water at once.\n\nAnd Turtle lived happily with his wife, and she had a babe. New it\nhappened in after-days that Glooskap came to see his uncle, and the\nchild cried. \"Dost thou know what he says?\" exclaimed the Master.\n\"Truly, not I,\" answered Mikchich, \"unless it be the language of the\nMu-se-gisk (P., Spirits of the Air), which no man knoweth.\" \"Well,\" replied\nGlooskap, \"he is talking of eggs, for he says '_Hoo-wah! hoo-wah_!'\nwhich methinks is much the same as '_Waw-wun, waw-wun_.' And\nthis in Passamaquoddy means egg.\" \"But where are there any?\" asked\nMikchich. Then Glooskap bade him seek in the sand, and he found many,\nand admired and marveled over them greatly; and in memory of this, and\nto glorify this jest of Glooskap, the Turtle layeth eggs even to this\nday.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nThe great Glooskap was a right valiant smoker; in all the world was no\nman who loved a pipe of good tobacco so much as he. In those days the\nsummers were longer in the land of the Wabanaki, the sun was warmer,\nand the Indians raised _tomawe_ (tobacco, P.), and solaced\nthemselves mightily therewith. [Footnote: I have met with an old Indian\nwoman in New Brunswick who told me that her grandmother remembered to\nhave seen tobacco raised there by the Passamaquoddy.] And there came to\nGlooskap a certain evil-minded magician, who sought to take his life,\nas the Master very well knew, for he read the hearts of men as if they\nhad been strings of wampum. And this _m'teoulin_ (P., magician),\nbelieving himself to be greatest in all things, thought to appall\nGlooskap by outdoing him at first in something at which he excelled;\nfor a fish is frightened when another swims faster, but not till then.\n\nAnd the man sat down to smoke with an exceeding long pipe with a great\nbowl, but that of Glooskap grew to be much greater. Then, having filled\nhis pipe, the sorcerer exhausted and burnt it out at one pull, and then\nblew all the smoke out of his nose at one puff. So he sat and looked at\nthe Master. But Glooskap, whose pipe held ten times as much tobacco,\ndid the same, and blowing it out split the rocky ground, so that a\ngreat chasm opened before them. Then they were silent awhile, till the\nMaster said, \"If you can do that you may kill me.\" But he could not,\nand so went back with shame to those who had sent him. [Footnote: In\nthis \"tale of tobacco,\" told me by John Gabriel, the evil-minded\nmagician is described as a Black Cat. This is probably an error, as\nGlooskap himself appears as chief of the Black Cats in another tale. It\nmay be, however, that this was Pook-jin-skwess in disguise.]\n\n\n\n\n_How Glooskap sailed through the great Cavern of Darkness._\n\n(Micmac.)\n\n\nNow it is told in another tradition--and men tell even this\ndifferently--that _pitche_, in these old times (P.) Glooskap's\nseven neighbors, who were all so many different animals, took away his\nfamily, and that he followed them, even as it has been written, unto\nNewfoundland. And when he came there it was night, and, finding Marten\nalone, he took him forth into the forest to seek food, putting his belt\non the boy, which gave him such power that he hunted well and got much\nmeat.\n\nSo it came to pass that the next morning Dame Kah-kah-gooch, the\nCrow, [Footnote: _Kah-kah-gooch_, Micmac, _Kah-kah-goos_,\nPassamaquoddy. The Crow is represented in several stories as always\npeeping, spying, begging, pilfering, and tale-bearing about a town. The\nPassamaquoddy Indians hare peculiar superstitions as regards killing\nthe crow.] observed that Marten was drying meat on his wigwam. And this\nshe spread abroad. But when the people learned that the child had done\nthis, a great fear came upon them all, and they sat every man in his\nlodge and awaited death, for they knew that the Master had come.\n\nAnd he indeed came; but when he saw them all as frightened as rabbits\nbefore the wild-cat, he laughed aloud and forgave them, for he was\nnoble and generous. And as they were hungry--for he had come in hard\ntimes--he gave them much venison, and sorrow departed from their\nwigwams. But as they had left him of old, he now left them. When they\nknew him not they left him to die; now that they knew him they feared\nlest they should perish without him. But he turned his steps towards\nother paths.\n\nNow having made a canoe, the Master, with Marten and Dame Bear, went\nupon a mighty river. As the story says, it was broad and beautiful at\nfirst, and so they sailed away down towards its mouth. Then they came\nto great cliffs, which gathered round and closed over them. But the\nriver ran on beneath these, and ever on far underground, deeper and\ndeeper in the earth, till it dashed headlong into rapids, among rocks\nand ravines, and under cataracts which were so horrible that death\nseemed to come and go with every plunge of the canoe. And the water\ngrew narrower and the current more dreadful, and fear came upon Marten\nand the woman, so that they died. But the Master sat with silent soul,\nthough he sang the songs of magic, and so passed into the night, but\ncame forth again into sunlight. And there was a lonely wigwam on the\nbank, into which he bore Marten and the grandmother, and saying,\n\"_Numchahse_! arise!\" lo, they arose, and deemed they had only\nslept. And now Glooskap had gained the greatest power. [Footnote: This\nincident of the passage underground is deeply suggestive of Wabeno\nmystery and initiation. It will strike every student of classic lore as\nalmost identical with much that he has read. If it has not the same\nsymbolical meaning here, it has apparently none whatever.]\n\nThis incident of passing through darkness, on a roaring stream in a\nfrail bark, before emerging to sunlight or illumination, was not only\nin the ancient heathen myths. We are reminded of it by the storm\nthrough which Jesus passed with the disciples. That it made a great\nimpression upon the Indians is shown by its being told of Pulewech, the\nPartridge, who is a type of Glooskap, and who, like him, makes war on\nthe powers of evil, set forth in the Porcupines. The Indians, who\nimagined and selected so many wild and terrible tests to form the\nShaman, or sorcerer, as well as the warrior, would hardly neglect that\nof _de profundis clamari_, the storm, the waves, darkness, and the\nroaring flood.\n\nIf there is really any Norse influence in this tale, this river must be\nthe one mentioned in the Vafthrudnismal,--\n\n  \"Ifing the stream is called\n  which earth divides between\n  the Jotuns and the gods.\n  Open it shall run\n  throughout all time.\n  On that stream no ice shall he.\"\n\nIt will be observed that, having gone down or across this stream,\nPulewech finds himself in the country of the Evil sorcerers; that is,\nJotunheim. To conquer a river among the Norse, in a dream, was a sign\nof victory; to be carried away by one was a terrible omen.\n\n  \"Methought a river ran\n  Through the whole house,\n  that it roared violently,\n  rushed over the benches,\n  brake the feet of yon\n  brothers twain;\n  Nothing the water spared;\n  Something that will portend.\"\n\n  (Atlamal, in Groenlewzku, 25.)\n\n\n\n\n_Of the Great Works which Glooskap made in the Land._\n\n(Micmac, Passamaquoddy, Penobscot.)\n\n\nOver all the Land of the Wabanaki there is no place which was not\nmarked by the hand of the Master. And it is to be seen on hills and\nrivers and great roads, as well as mighty rocks, which were in their\nday living monsters.\n\nFor there is a very wonderful highway from Cwesowra legek [Footnote:\nHardwood Point, Fort Cumberland.] to Parrsborough, running parallel\nwith the river now called Hebert, and this road is called by Indians\nOu-wokun, the Causeway, but by white men, or the Iglesmani, the Boar's\nBack. For it is said that he meant to visit Partridge Island and Cape\nBlomidon, but they who were with him had got tired of the sea, and\nwished to cross over by land. And while they were resting and getting\nready for their trip across, the Master, raising his magic power to a\ngreat deed to be spoken of forever, went away a little time, and cast\nup a great and beautiful level ridge, throwing it over bogs and\nstreams; and on this they traveled, rejoicing, and, having reached the\nisland, awaited him.\n\nAnd yet again the Master did a mighty deed. It came to pass in those\ndays that the Beavers had built a dam across from Utkoguncheek, or Cape\nBlomidon, to the opposite shore, and thereby made a pond that filled\nall the valley of Annapolis. Now in those times the Beavers were\nmonstrous beasts, and the Master, though kind of heart, seems to have\nhad but little love for them ever since the day when Qwah-beetsis, the\nson of the Great Beaver, tempted Malsum to slay his brother. Now the\nbones of these Beavers may be found to this day, and many there are on\nOonamahgik, and their teeth are six inches across, and there are no\nsuch _qwah-beet_ to-day. [Footnote: Both Mr. Rand and myself have\nbeen solemnly assured by Indians who had seen these antediluvian\nremains that they are the petrified relics of Glooskap's victims.] And\nthese are the remains of the Beavers who built the dam at Cape Blomidon\nand forded the Annapolis Valley. Now Glooskap would have a hunt and do\na deed which should equal the great whale-fishing of Kit-pooseeog-unow.\nSo he cut the great dam near the shore, and bade Marten watch; for he\nsaid, \"I mistrust that there is a little Beaver hiding hereabouts.\" And\nwhen the dam was cut from where it joined the shore there was a mighty\nrush of many waters, so that it swung round to the westward, yet it did\nnot break away from the other shore. Therefore the end of it lodged\nwith a great split therein when the flood had found a free course, and\nthe whole may be seen there still, even to this day, and may be seen by\nall of those who pass up the bay; and this point, or Cape Split, is\ncalled by the Micmacs Pleegun, which, being interpreted, means the\nopening of a beaver dam.\n\nThen, to frighten the Beaver, Glooskap threw at it a few handfuls of\nearth, and these, falling somewhat to the eastward of Partridge Island,\nbecame the Five Islands. And the pond which was left was the Basin of\nMinas.\n\nAnd yet another tradition tells that, after cutting the dam, Glooskap\nsat and watched, but no beaver came out; [Footnote: This is the\nAnglo-Indian manuscript, already referred to.] for _Qwah-beet_\nhad gone out of a back door. So he took a rock and threw it afar,\n[Footnote: \"He took Rock tructed 150 miles ip River to sker beaber\nbock down, but beaber has gone ober granfalls.\"]--one hundred and\nfifty miles,--to scare the Beaver back again; but the Beaver had gone\nover the Grand Falls, and the stone remaineth there even to this day.\n\n\n\n\n_The Story of Glooskap as told in a few Words by a Woman of the\nPenobscots._\n\n\n\"Glus-gahbe gave names to everything. He made men and gave them life,\nand made the winds to make the waters move. The Turtle was his uncle;\nthe Mink, _Uk-see-meezel_, his adopted son; and _Monin-kwessos_,\nthe Woodchuck, his grandmother. The Beaver built a great dam, and\nGlus-gahbe turned it away and killed the Beaver. At Moose-tchick he\nkilled a moose; the bones may be seen at Bar Harbor turned to stone.\nHe threw the entrails of the Moose across the bay to his dogs, and they,\ntoo, may be seen there to this day, as I myself have seen them; and there,\ntoo, in the rock are the prints of his bow and arrow.\" [Footnote: Many a\nplace is pointed out as the locality of the same legend. In addition to\nthose in New Brunswick and Bar Harbor, Thoreau found another in Maine,\nwhich he thus describes:--\n\n\"While we were crossing this bay\" (that is, the mouth of Moose River),\n\"where Mount Kineo rose dark before us, within two or three miles, the\nIndian repeated the tradition respecting this mountain's having been\nanciently a cow-moose,--how a mighty Indian hunter, whose name I\nforget, succeeded in killing this queen of the moose tribe with great\ndifficulty, while her calf was killed somewhere among the islands in\nPenobscot Bay; and to his eyes this mountain had still the form of the\nmoose in a reclining posture, its precipitous side presenting the\noutline of her head. He told this at some length, though it did not\namount to much, and with apparent good faith, and asked us how we\nsupposed the hunter could have killed such a mighty moose as that; how\nwe could do it. Whereupon a man-of-war to fire broadsides into her was\nsuggested, etc. An Indian tells such a story as if he thought it\ndeserved to have a good deal said about it, only he has not got it to\nsay; and so he makes up for the deficiency by a drawling tone,\nlong-windedness, and a dumb wonder which he hopes will be contagious.\"\n\nThis concluding criticism is indeed singularly characteristic of Mr.\nThoreau's own nasal stories about Nature, but it is as utterly untrue\nas ridiculous when applied to any Indian storytelling to which I have\never listened, and I have known the near relatives of the Indians of\nwhom he speaks, and heard many of them tell their tales. This writer\npassed months in Maine, choosing Penobscot guides expressly to study\nthem, to read Indian feelings and get at Indian secrets, and this\naccount of Glooskap, whose name he forgets, is a fair specimen of what\nhe learned. Yet he could in the same book write as follows: \"The\nAnglo-American can indeed cut down and grub up all this waving forest,\nAnd make a stump and vote for Buchanan on its ruins; but he cannot\nConverse with the spirit of the tree he fells, he cannot read the\npoetry and mythology which retires as he advances.\"\n\nIf Mr. Thoreau had known the Indian legend of the spirit of the fallen\ntree--and his guide knew it well--he might have been credited with\nspeaking wisely of the poetry and _mythology_ which he ridicules\nthe poor rural Yankees for not possessing.\n\nSuch a writer can, indeed, peep and botanize on the grave of Mother\nNature, but never evoke _her_ spirit.\n\nThe moving the island is evidently of Eskimo origin, since Crantz\n(_History of Greenland_) heard nearly the same story of some\nmagician-giant. It was probably suggested by the very common floating\naway of ice-islands.]\n\n\n\n\n_How Glooskap, leaving the World, all the Animals mourned for him,\nand how, ere he departed, he gave Gifts to Men._\n\n(Micmac.)\n\n\nNow Glooskap had freed the world from all the mighty monsters of an\nearly time: the giants wandered no longer in the wilderness; the\n_cullo_ terrified man no more, as it spread its wings like the\ncloud between him and the sun; the dreadful Chenoo of the North\ndevoured him not; no evil beasts, devils, and serpents were to be found\nnear his home. And the Master had, moreover, taught men the arts which\nmade them happier; but they were not grateful to him, and though they\nworshiped him they were not the less wicked.\n\n\"Now when the ways of men and beasts waxed evil they greatly vexed\nGlooskap, and at length he could no longer endure them, and he made a\nrich feast by the shore of the great Lake Minas. All the beasts came to\nit, and when the feast was over he got into a great canoe, and the\nbeasts looked after him till they saw him no more. And after they\nceased to see him, they still heard his voice as he sang; but the\nsounds grew fainter and fainter in the distance, and at last they\nwholly died away; and then deep silence fell on them all, and a great\nmarvel came to pass, and the beasts, who had till now spoken but one\nlanguage, were no longer able to understand each other, and they fled\naway, each his own way, and never again have they met together in\ncouncil. Until the day when Glooskap shall return to restore the Golden\nAge, and make men and animals dwell once more together in amity and\npeace, all Nature mourns. And tradition says that on his departure from\nAcadia the Great Snowy Owl retired to the deep forests, to return no\nmore until he could come to welcome Glooskap; and in those sylvan\ndepths the owls even yet repeat to the night _Koo-koo-skoos_!\nwhich is to say in the Indian tongue, 'Oh, I am sorry! Oh, I am sorry!'\nAnd the Loons, who had been the huntsmen of Glooskap, go restlessly up\nand down through the world, seeking vainly for their master, whom they\ncannot find, and wailing sadly because they find him not.\" [Footnote:\nThis passage is one of seven on the subject of Glooskap, cited in\nOsgood's _Maritime Provinces_, without giving either the name of\nthe author or the book from which they were taken.]\n\nBut ere the Master went away from life, or ceased to wander in the ways\nof men, he bade it be made known by the Loons, his faithful messengers,\nthat before his departure years would pass, and that whoever would seek\nhim might have one wish granted, whatever that wish might be. Now,\nthough the journey was long and the trials were terrible which those\nmust endure who would find Glooskap, there were still many men who\nadventured them. [Footnote: There is a great embarrassment of riches,\nor rather a great wealth of embarrassment, as regards this chapter. In\nthe Rand manuscript there are three histories of the adventures of the\npilgrims who sought Glooskap. Another and very different was given to\nme by John Gabriel. In one account there are three travelers, in\nanother four; others speak of seven and twelve. Finally, there are many\nincidents which apparently belong to this part of the Glooskap cycle,\nscattered here and there in different disconnected legends.\n\nMrs. W. Wallace Brown was told by the Passamaquoddy Indians that when\nGlooskap departed he took with him the king of each of the different\nkinds of animals; so that the wolves, loons, etc., mourn not only for\nthe lord, but for their masters.]\n\nNow ye shall hear who some of these were and what happened to them. And\nthis is the first tale as it was told me in the tent of John Gabriel,\nthe Passamaquoddy.\n\nWhen all men had heard that Glooskap would grant a wish to any one who\nwould come to him, three Indians resolved to try this thing; and one\nwas a Maliseet from St. John, and the other two were Penobscots from\nOld Town. And the path was long and the way was hard, and they suffered\nmuch, and they were seven years on it ere they came to him. But while\nthey were yet three months' journey from his dwelling, they heard the\nbarking of his dogs, and as they drew nearer, day by day, it was\nlouder. And so, after great trials, they found the lord of men and\nbeasts, and he made them welcome and entertained them.\n\nBut, ere they went, he asked them what they wanted. And the eldest, who\nwas an honest, simple man, and of but little account among his people,\nbecause he was a bad hunter, asked that he might excel in the killing\nand catching of game. Then the Master gave him a flute, or the magic\npipe, which pleases every ear, and has the power of persuading every\nanimal to follow him who plays it. And he thanked the lord, and left.\n\nNow the second Indian, being asked what he would have, replied, 'The\nlove of many women.' And when Glooskap asked how many, he said, \"I care\nnot how many; so that there are but enough of them, and more than\nenough.\" At hearing this the Master seemed displeased, but, smiling\nanon, he gave him a bag which was tightly tied, and told him not to\nopen it until he had reached his home. So he thanked the lord, and\nleft.\n\nNow the third Indian was a gay and handsome but foolish young fellow,\nwhose whole heart was set on making people laugh, and on winning a\nwelcome at every merry-making. And he, being asked what he would have\nor what he chiefly wanted, said that it would please him most to be\nable to make a certain quaint and marvelous sound or noise, [Footnote:\nPedere, crepitare.] which was frequent in those primitive times among\nall the Wabanaki, and which it is said may even yet be heard in a few\nsequestered wigwams far in the wilderness, away from men; there being\nstill here and there a deep magician, or man of mystery, who knows the\nart of producing it. And the property of this wondrous sound is such\nthat they who hear it must needs burst into a laugh; whence it is the\ncause that the men of these our modern times are so sorrowful, since\nthat sound is no more heard in the land. And to him Glooskap was also\naffable, sending Marten into the woods to seek a certain mystical and\nmagic root, which when eaten would make the miracle the young man\nsought. But he warned him not to touch the root ere he got to his home,\nor it would be the worse for him. And so he kindly thanked the lord,\nand left.\n\nIt had taken seven years to come, but seven days were all that was\nrequired to tread the path returning to their home, that is, for him\nwho got there. Only one of all the three beheld his lodge again. This\nwas the hunter, who, with his pipe in his pocket, and not a care in his\nheart, trudged through the woods, satisfied that so long as he should\nlive, there would always be venison in the larder.\n\nBut he who loved women, and had never won even a wife, was filled with\nanxious wishfulness. And he had, not gone very far into the woods\nbefore he opened the bag. And there flew out by hundreds, like white\ndoves, swarming all about him, beautiful girls, with black burning eyes\nand flowing hair. And wild with passion the winsome witches threw their\narms about him, and kissed him as he responded to their embraces; but\nthey came ever more and more, wilder and more passionate. And he bade\nthem give way, but they would not, and he sought to escape, but he\ncould not; and so panting, crying for breath, smothered, he perished.\nAnd those who came that way found him dead, but what became of the\ngirls no man knows.\n\nNow the third went merrily onward alone, when all at once it flashed\nupon his mind that Glooskap had given him a present, and without the\nleast heed to the injunction that he was to wait till he had reached\nhis home drew out the root and ate it; and scarce had he done this ere\nhe realized that he possessed the power of uttering the weird and\nmystic sound to absolute perfection. And as it rang o'er many a hill\nand dale, and woke the echoes of the distant hills, until it was\nanswered by the solemn owl, he felt that it was indeed wonderful. So he\nwalked on gayly, trumpeting as he went, over hill and vale, happy as a\nbird.\n\nBut by and by he began to weary of himself. Seeing a deer he drew an\narrow and stealing silently to the game was just about to shoot, when\ndespite himself the wild, unearthly sound broke forth like a demon's\nwarble. The deer bounded away, and the young man cursed! And when he\nreached Old Town, half dead with hanger, he was worth little to make\nlaughter, though the honest Indians at first did not fail to do so, and\nthereby somewhat cheered his heart. But as the days went on they\nwearied of him, and, life becoming a burden, he went into the woods and\nslew himself. And the evil spirit of the night-air even Bumole,\n[Footnote: For an account of Bumole, or Pamola, see the chapter on\nSupernatural Beings. Bumole seems to have been the personification\nof the night-hawk.] or Pamola, from whom came the gift, swooped down\nfrom the clouds and bore him away to 'Lahmkekqu', the dwelling place of\ndarkness, and he was no more heard of among men.\n\nAs regards the destruction of the giants by Glooskap, it may be\nobserved that the same tradition exists among the Six Nations. Cusick\ntells us that about 1250 years before Columbus discovered America a\npowerful tribe called Otne-yar-heh, that is, Stone Giants, who were\nravenous cannibals, overran the country, and nearly exterminated the\ninhabitants. These Stone Giants practiced, themselves in rolling on the\nsand; by this means their bodies became hard. Then Tas-enyawa-gen, the\nHolder of the Heavens, came to earth as a giant, and being made their\nchief, led them into a hollow, where he overwhelmed them with rocks.\nOnly one escaped to the far North. The reader will recognize in these\nthe Chenoos, or Kewahqu', who cover themselves with pitch and roll on\nthe ground. But no one can deny that, while that which Cusick narrates\nhas much in common with the mythology of the Wabanaki, it is much less\nlike that of the Edda; that Indian grotesqueness has in it greatly\nperverted an original: and finally, that it certainly occupies a\nposition midway between the mythology of the Northeastern Algonquins\nand that of the Chippewas, Ottawas, and other Western tribes.\nExamination shows this in every story. Thus the Wabanaki warrior makes\nhis bow infallible in aim by stringing it with a cord made of his\nsister's hair. This is Norse, as it was of old Latin. But in the\nIroquois the young man \"adorns his arms with the hairs of his sister.\"\nHere the tradition has begun to weaken.\n\nIt may be interesting to visitors to Niagara to know that the army of\nStone Giants crossed the river during their journey just below the\nFalls.\n\n\n\n\n_How Glooskap had a great Frolic with Kitpooseagunow, a Mighty Giant\nwho caught a Whale._\n\n(Micmac.)\n\n\n_N'kah-nee-oo_. In the old time (P.) Glooskap came to Pulewech\nMunegoo (M., Partridge Island), and here he met with Kitpooseagunow,\n[Footnote: _Kitpooseagunow_, \"one born after his mother's death,\" is\na magician-giant, who plays in the Algonquin mythology a part only inferior\nto that of Glooskap, whom he in every way resembles. Both are benevolent,\nboth make war on wicked sorcerers and evil wild beasts, and both, finally,\nare much like Gargantua and Pantagruel in their sense of humor. They are\nsometimes made the heroes of the same adventure in different stories. The\ntrue origin of the name, according to Mr. Rand, is as follows: \"After a\ncow moose or caribou has been killed, her calf is sometimes taken out\nalive, and reared by hand. As may be supposed, the calf is very easily\ntamed. The animal thus born is called _Kitpooseagunow_, and from\nthis a verb is formed which denotes the act.\"--_Legends of the Mic Macs,\nOld Dominion Monthly_, 1871.\n\nThis giant was also called the Protector of the Oppressed. He probably\nrepresents the Glooskap myth in another form.] whose mother had been\nslain by a fearful cannibal giant. And it was against these that he\nmade war all his life long, as did Glooskap. Whence it came to pass\nthat they loved one another, which did not at all hinder them from\nhaving a hearty and merry encounter, in which they missed but little of\nkilling one or the other, and all in the best natured way in the world.\n\n[Illustration: Glooskap and Keanke spearing the whale]\n\nNow, having come to Pulewech Munegoo, the lord of men and beasts was\nentertained by Kitpooseagunow. And when the night came, he who was born\nafter his mother's death said to his guest, \"Let us go on the sea in a\ncanoe and catch whales by torchlight;\" to which Glooskap, nothing loath,\nconsented, for he was a mighty fisherman, as are all the Wabanaki of\nthe seacoast. [Footnote: Glooskap would seem to have been the prototype\nof the giant fisher so well known in song:--\n\n  \"His rod was made of a sturdy oak,\n  His line, a cable, in storms ne'er broke;\n  He baited his hook with a dragon's tail,\n  And sat on a rock and bobbed for whale.\"\n\nA fabulous monster, apparently identical with the dragon, is common in\nMicmac stories.]\n\nNow when they came to the beach there were only great rocks, lying here\nand there; but Kitpooseagunow, lifting the largest of these, put it on\nhis head, and it became a canoe. And picking up another, it turned to a\npaddle, while a long splinter which he split from a ledge seemed to be\na spear. Then Glooskap asked, \"Who shall sit in the stern and paddle,\nand who will take the spear?\" Kitpooseagunow said \"That will I.\" So\nGlooskap paddled, and soon the canoe passed over a mighty whale; in all\nthe great sea there was not his like; but he who held the spear sent it\nlike a thunderbolt down into the waters, and as the handle rose again\nto sight he snatched it up, and the great fish was caught. And as\nKitpooseagunow whirled it on high, the whale, roaring, touched the\nclouds. Then taking him from the point, the fisher tossed him into the\nbark as if he had been a trout. And the giants laughed; the sound of\ntheir laughter was heard all over the land of the Wabanaki. And being\nat home, the host took a stone knife and split the whale, and threw one\nhalf to the guest Glooskap, and they roasted each his piece over the\nfire and ate it.\n\nNow the Master, having marked the light, which was long in the heaven\nafter the sun went down, said, \"The sky is red; we shall have a cold\nnight.\" And his host understood him well, and saw that he would make it\ncold by magic. So he bade Marten bring in all the fuel he could find,\nand all there was of the oil of a porpoise; and this oil he so\nmultiplied by magic that there was ten times more of it. And they sat\nthem down and smoked, and told tales of old times; but it grew ever\ncolder and colder. And at midnight, when all was burnt out, Marten\nfroze to death, and then the grandmother, but the two giants smoked on,\nand laughed and talked. Then the rocks out-of-doors split with the\ncold, the great trees in the forest split; the sound thereof was as\nthunder, but the Master and he who was born after his mother's death\nlaughed even louder. And so they sat until the sun rose. Then Glooskap\nsaid to the dead woman, \"_Noogume, numchahse_!\" (M.) \"Grandmother,\narise!\" and to his boy, \"_Abistanooch numchahse_!\" \"Marten,\narise!\" and they arose, and went about their work.\n\nAnd the morning being bright, they went forth far into the forest to\nfind game. But they got very little, for they caught only one small\nbeaver, and Glooskap gave up his share of this to Kitpooseagunow. And\nhe, taking the skin, fastened it to his garter, whence it dangled like\nthe skin of a mouse at the knee of a tall man. But as he went on\nthrough the woods the skin grew larger and larger and larger, till it\nbroke away by its own weight. Then the giant twisted a mighty sapling\ninto a withe, and fastened it around his waist. But it still grew apace\nas he went on, till, trailing after, it tore down all the forest,\npulling away the trees, so that Kitpooseagunow left a clean, fair road\nbehind him. [Footnote: Many of these stories have received later\nadditions, which can be detected by their occurring only in single\nversions of them. In the story of Kitpooseagunow (Rand's manuscript)\nthe giants arrive at a \"large town,\" and go to a \"store,\" where they\nsell the skin for all the money, goods, houses, and lands which, the\nmerchant possesses. \"And the skin was so heavy that it took the greater\npart of the day to weigh it.\"]\n\nAnd when the night came on they fished again, as they had done before;\nand again it was said, but this time by the host, \"The sky is red; we\nshall have a cold night.\" So they heaped up wood more than the first\ntime, but now it was far colder. And soon the boy was dead, and the\ngrandmother also lay frozen. But when the sun rose the Master brought\nthem back to life, and, bidding good-by to Kitpooseagunow, went his\nway. [Footnote: It is possible that there is a version of this story in\nwhich Glooskap kills his friend with frost, and then revives him. In\none story it is a _frozen stream_, incarnate as a man, which\nattempts in vain to freeze Glooskap. The extraordinary manner in which\nhost and guest, or even intimate friends, endeavor to _kill_ one\nanother in the most good-natured rivalry, is of constant occurrence in\nthe Eskimo legends. It is not infrequent among our own backwoods or\nfrontier-men.\n\nThe stone-canoe occurs in Eskimo legends (_vide_ Rink), as it does\nin those of all American Indians.]\n\nThe most striking feature, however, of this legend is its Norse-like\nbreadth or grandeur and its genial humor, which are very remarkable\ncharacteristics for the fictions of savages. Its resemblance to the\nScandinavian tales is, if accidental, very remarkable. The two heroes\nare, like Thor and Odin, giant heroes who make war on Jotuns and\nTrolls; that is, giant-like sorcerers. It is their profession; they\nlive in it. No one can read Beowulf or the Eddas without being struck\nby the great resemblance between Grendel, the hideous, semi-human night\nprowler, and the Kewahqu', a precisely similar monster, who rises from\nthe depths of waters to wantonly murder man. I do not recall any two\nbeings in any other two disconnected mythologies so strangely similar.\nThe fishing for the whale recalls that which is told in the Older Edda\n(Hymiskrida, 21), where Hymir succeeds in hooking two of these fish:--\n\n\"Then he and Hymir rowed out to sea. Thor rowed oft with two oars, and\nso powerfully that the giant was obliged to acknowledge they were\nspeeding very fast. _He himself rowed at the prow_.\"\n\nIf the reader will compare this account of the Edda with the Micmac\nstory, he cannot fail to be struck with the great resemblance between\nthem. It is even specified in both that the hero, though a guest,\npaddles. And in both instances the host catches a whale. Now compare\nwith this the legend of Manobozho-Hiawatha, who merely catches the\ngreat sunfish, and is swallowed by it. Does it not seem as if the\nWestern Indians had here borrowed from the Micmacs, and the Micmacs\nfrom the Norse? Whether this was done directly or through the Eskimo is\nas yet a problem. It may also be noted that both in the Edda and in the\nMicmac story, it is declared that one of the giants picked up the boat\nand carried it.\n\nIt may be observed that most of these Indian traditions were originally\npoems. It is probable that all were sung, while they still retained the\ncharacter of serious mythical or sacred narrative. Now they are in the\ntransition state of heroic tales. But they unquestionably still retain\nmany passages of very great antiquity, and it is not impossible that\nEskimo and even Norse songs are still preserved in them. In this tale\nthe following coincidences with passages in the Elder Edda (Hymiskrida)\nare remarkable. In both the host asks his guest to go with him to catch\nwhales, to which the latter assents.\n\n  \"'We three to-morrow night\n  Shall be compelled\n  On what we catch to live.'\n  Thor said he would\n  On the sea row.\"\n\nKitpooseagunow picks up the heavy canoe, with its oars and a spear, and\ncarries them.\n\n  \"Thor went,\n  grasped the prow\n  quickly with its hold-water,\n  lifted the boat\n  together with its oars\n  and scoop;\n  bore to the dwelling\n  the curved vessel.\"\n\nGlooskap asks which of the two shall take the paddle, and which sit in\nthe stern. Hymir inquires,--\n\n  \"Wilt thou do\n  half the work with me?\n  either the whales\n  home to the dwelling bear,\n  Or the boat\n  fast bind?\"\n\nKitpooseagunow drew up a whale.\n\n  \"The mighty Hymir,\n  He alone\n  two whales drew\n  up with his hook.\"\n\nAfter this whale-fishing, the Scandinavian giants at home have a trial\nof strength and endurance. Thor throws a cup at Hymir. This cup can\nonly be broken on Hymir's head, which is of ice, and intensely hard.\n\n  \"That is harder\n  than any cup.\"\n\nThis is therefore an effort on the part of Thor to overcome Cold. Hymir\nis the incarnation of Cold itself.\n\n  \"The icebergs resounded\n  as the churl approached;\n  the thicket on his cheeks\n  was frozen.\n  In shivers flew the pillars\n  At the Jotun's glance.\"\n\nThat is, the frost cracks the stones and rocks. In the Indian tale the\ntwo giants try to see which can freeze the other. In both there is\ndistinctly a contest. In the Norse tale Strength or Heat fights Frost;\nin the American, Frost is battled with by Frost as a rival.\n\nIt may be observed that the Indian tale is far from being perfect, and\nthat in all probability the whole of it includes a fishing for the\nsea-serpent.\n\nIt is plainly set forth in the Edda that Cold may be overcome by a\nmagic spell. Thus Groa (Grougaldr, 12) promises her son a rune to\neffect this:--\n\n  \"A seventh (charm) I will sing thee:\n  If on a mountain high\n  frost should assail thee,\n  deadly cold shall not\n  thy body injure,\n  nor draw it to thy limbs.\"\n\n\n\n\n_How Glooskap made a Magician of a Young Man, who aided another to\nwin a Wife and do Wonderful Deeds_.\n\n(Micmac.)\n\n\nIt is well known unto all Indians who still keep the true faith of the\nolden time that there are wondrous dwellers in the lonely woods, such\nas elves and fairies, called by the Micmacs _Mikumwessos_, and by\nthe Passamaquoddies _Oonahgawessos_. And these can work great\nwonders, and also sing so as to charm the wildest beasts. From them\nalone come the magic pipes or flutes, which sometimes pass into\npossession of noted sorcerers and great warriors; and when these are\nplayed upon, the woman who hears the melody is bewitched with love, and\nthe moose and caribou follow the sound even to their death. And when\nthe _Megumawessos_ are pleased with a mortal they make him a\nfairy, even like themselves.\n\n_N'Karnayoo_. In old times there was an Indian village, and in it\nwere two young men, [Footnote: According to another Micmac version of\nthis legend, the elder of these pilgrims was Keekwahjoo, the Badger,\nand the younger Caktoogwasees, or Little Thunder.] who had heard that\nGlooskap, ere he left the world, would bestow on those who came to him\nwhatever they wanted. So they went their way, an exceeding long\npilgrimage, until they came to a great island, where he dwelt. And there\nthey first met with Dame Bear and Marten, and next with the Master\nhimself. Then they all, sitting down to supper, had placed before them\nonly one extremely small dish, and on this there was a tiny bit of\nmeat, and nothing more. But being a bold and jolly fellow, the first of\nthe pilgrims, thinking himself mocked for sport, cut off a great part\nof the meat, and ate it, when that which was in the dish grew in a\ntwinkling to its former size; and so this went on all through the\nsupper, every one eating his fill, the dish at the end being as full as\never.\n\nOf these two, one wished to become a Mikum-wess, and the other to win a\nvery beautiful girl, the daughter of a great chief, who imposed such\ncruel tasks on all who came for her, that they died in attempting them.\n\nAnd the first was taken by Glooskap; and after he had by a merry trick\ncovered him with filth and put him to great shame, he took him to the\nriver, and after washing him clean and combing his hair gave him a\nchange of raiment and a hair string of exceeding great magic virtue,\nsince when he had bound it on he became a Mikumwess, having all the\npower of the elfin-world. And also because he desired to excel in\nsinging and music, the Master gave him a small pipe, and it was that\nwhich charmed all living beings; [Footnote: The identity of these\nincidents with those of \"classic\" times is worth noting. There is a\nlustration and the clothing the neophyte in a new garment, and he\nreceives the magic fillet, as in the Mysteries of the old world. Nor is\nthe resemblance of the pipe to that of Orpheus less striking. In many\nrespects this is the most remarkable old Indian myth I have ever met\nwith.] and then singing a song bade him join in with him. And doing\nthis he found that he could sing, and ever after had a wondrous voice.\n\nNow to seek the beautiful girl it was necessary to sail afar over the sea;\nand during this adventure the Mikumwess was charged to take care of the\nyounger pilgrim. So he begged the Master to lend him his canoe. And\nGlooskap answered, \"Yes, I will do this for thee, if thou wilt honestly\nreturn it when thou needest it no more. Yet in very truth I did never\nyet lend it to mortal man but that I had to go after it myself.\"\n[Footnote: One of the traits of _bonhomie_ and common humanity\nwhich continually occur in the Glooskap tales, even in the most serious\nsituations and solemn myths. In this respect the resemblance of the\nNorthwest Algonquin tales to the Norse is truly striking. The canoe is\namong all Indians, even in Central America, exactly what the umbrella\nis in civilized society. With all his immense originality Glooskap had\na number of \"old Joes,\" of which he never seems to have tired. One was\nthe inexhaustible dish, and another the giant skunk set upon end to salute\nhis visitors, and this of the canoe was probably the commonest of all.\nHe is a true Indian divinity, shining like the lightning and striking\nonly when there is a storm, but appearing like the Aurora Borealis, or\neven the Robin Goodfellow-Will-o'-the-Wisp at others.]\n\nThereupon the young man promised most faithfully that he would indeed\nreturn the canoe, and with this they got them ready for the journey.\nBut when they came to the bay there was no canoe, and they knew not\nwhat was to be done. But Glooskap pointed to a small island of granite\nwhich rose amid the waves, and it was covered with tall pine-trees.\n\"There is my canoe!\" said he; [Footnote: Another standard \"piece of\nwitt\" with the incorrigible joker. Glooskap's \"floating island\" was\nserved up as a dessert to all guests, and I doubt not that if the\ndouble meaning of the word had been known to him, they would have had\nthat too.] and when he had taken them unto it, it became a real canoe,\nwith masts, and they set sail on it, rejoicing.\n\nSo they came in time to a very large island, where they drew up the\ncanoe and hid it in the bushes. Then they went forward to seek for\npeople, and found a village in which dwelt the chief who had the\nbeautiful daughter, in seeking whom so many had lost their lives.\n\nAnd having found him, they went into his wigwam, and were placed on the\nseat of honor. Now when an Indian seeks a wife, he or his mutual friend\nmakes no great ado about it, but utters two words, which tell the whole\nstory. And these are _Sewin-coadoo-gwah-loogwet_', which mean--in\nMicmac, \"I am tired of living alone.\" And the chief, hearing this,\nconsented that the young man should marry her whom he sought; but on\none condition: and this was that he should slay and bring unto him the\nhead of a certain horned dragon, called in Micmac _Chepichealm_.\n[Footnote: Vide \"Supernatural Beings.\" The _Chepichealm_ (M.) is\nan immense horned serpent or wingless dragon. It is probably identical\nwith the Wiwillmekq' (P. and Pen.), which is a singular horned worm\nfound on trees or by water. It is believed to be capable of assuming a\nvast size and to be gifted with supernatural powers.] So this was\nagreed upon, and the two strangers went to the wigwam which was\nassigned them.\n\nNow in the night he that was Mikumwess arose and went alone and afar\nuntil he came to the den of the dragon, and this was a great hole in\nthe ground. And over this he laid a mighty log, and then began the\nmagic dance around the den. So the serpent, or the great Chepichcalm,\nhearing the call, came forth, putting out his head after the manner of\nsnakes, waving it all about in every way and looking round him. While\ndoing this he rested his neck upon the log, when the Indian with a blow\nof his hatchet severed it. Then taking the head by one of the shining\nyellow horns he bore it to his friend, who in the morning gave it to\nthe chief. And the old man said to himself, \"This time I fear me I\nshall lose my child.\"\n\nYet the young man had more to do; for the chief said, \"I would fain see\nmy son coast down yonder hill on hand-sled.\" Now this lull was an\nexceeding high mountain; the sides thereof were ragged with rocks and\nterrible with trees and ice. Then two toboggins [Footnote: Toboggin: a\nsled or sledge.] were brought out, one of them for the two strangers,\nand this he that was Mikumwess was to direct. And on the other were two\npowerful men, and these were both _boo-oinak_, [Footnote:\nMagicians, the original of _pow-wow-in_. It is apparently the same\nin meaning as the _angakok_ of the neighboring Eskimo.] who hoped\nto see the former soon fall out, and then to run over them. And at the\nword they went flying fearfully down the mountain, and yet ever faster,\nas if to death. And soon he that sought the girl went whirling headlong\nfrom the sled, and the two _boo-oinak_ gave a loud hurrah; for\nthey knew not that this had been done with intent by the Mikumwess,\nthat he might get them before him. So he put forth his hand, and,\nseizing the younger man, turned a little aside, but in an instant went\non after; and erelong the sled of the _boo-oinak_ stopped, but the\nother, bounding upwards from a mighty wall of ice, flew far over their\nheads onwards; nor did it stop in the valley, but, running with\ntremendous speed up the opposite hill and into the village, struck the\nside of the chief's wigwam, ripping it up from end to end ere it\nstopped. And the old man, seeing this, said, \"This time I have lost my\ndaughter!\"\n\nYet the young man had more to do; for the chief said, \"There is here a\nman who has never been beaten in running, and thou must strive with him\nin that and overcome him, to win thy wife.\" And the race was appointed;\nbut ere it came off he that was Mikumwess lent to his friend the magic\npipe to give him power. [Footnote: It may be observed that Indian magic\ndepends on fetich, or objects having innate power. Glooskap himself\nrelies on his belt, and when he lends it to Marten, the boy becomes\n\"manitoo,\" as the more Western Indians term it. There is in the early\nred Indian mythology really no God; only more or less powerful\nmagicians.] And when he that was the racer of the village met the young\nman, the youth said, \"Who art thou?\" and he replied, \"I am Wey-ad-esk\"\n(the Northern Lights, M.); \"but who art thou?\" And he answered, \"I am\nWosogwodesk\" (the Chain Lightning). And they ran. In an instant they\nwere no longer in sight; they were far away over the most distant\nhills. Then all sat and waited, and ere it was noon he that was the\nChain Lightning returned, and he was not out of breath, nor weary, and\nhe had gone round the world. And at evening they saw the Northern\nLights return, and he trembled and quivered with fatigue; yet for all\nthat he had not been round the world, but had turned back. And the old\nchief, seeing him beaten, exclaimed, \"This time I shall lose my child!\"\n\nAnd yet there was another trial of the young man ere he could win her\nwhom he wanted. For the chief had a man whom no one could overcome in\nswimming and diving, and it was chiefly in this last thing that he\nexcelled. And the young man must strive with him. And when they met he\nasked the man of the village his name, and he replied, \"I am an\n_Ukchigumooech_\" (a Sea Duck, M.); \"but who are you?\" And he\nanswered, \"I am a _Kweemoo_\" (a Loon, M.). So they dived, and\nafter a time the Sea Duck rose again for breath, but those who waited\nwaited long indeed ere they saw the Loon. And an hour passed, and he\ncame not, and yet another ere they beheld him; but when he at last rose\nthe old chief said, \"This is the end of all our weary work, for this\ntime truly I have lost my child.\"\n\nYet it was not the end of the wonderful deeds which were done in that\nvillage by the power of the great Glooskap. For the Mikumwess, at the\ngreat dance which was held that evening at the wedding, astonished all\nwho beheld him. As he danced around the circle, upon the very hard\nbeaten floor, they saw his feet sink deeper at every step, and ever\ndeeper as the dance went on; ploughing the ground up into high, uneven\nridges, forming a trench as he went, until at length only his head was\nto be seen. [Footnote: This is very characteristic of the true\nmagician, both in the Algonquin and Eskimo folk-lore. \"The\n_angakok_,\" or sorcerer of Greenland, \"after meeting with\n_tomarsuk_, or guardian spirits, sometimes manifested it by his\nfeet sinking into the rocky ground _just as if in snow_.\" (Rink.)\nThis phrase indicates the Northern origin of the idea, which occurs in\nmany Indian stories. I have been assured in all faith that there is a\nPassamaquoddy _m'teoulin_, or sorcerer, now living, who can walk\nup to his knees in a floor or in the paved street, and an honest and\ntrustworthy Indian assured me that he had seen him do it.]\n\nAnd this ended the dancing for that night, since the ground was no\nlonger to be danced upon by anybody except wizards and witches.\n\nThen the young man and his wife and the Mikumwess entered their canoe\nand sailed _boosijk_ (homewards, M.). And yet their trials were\nnot over. [Footnote: These subsequent trials were not inflicted by the\nold chief, but were, as appears by comparison with other legends,\nsimply jokes played by the incorrigible Glooskap. It is most probable\nthat in its original form this remarkable myth was all _maya_,\nor illusion, and the whole a series of illusions, caused by the\narch-conjurer, typifying natural phenomena.] For they had not gone\nfar ere they saw an awful storm coming to meet them; and he that had\nthe Elfin spells knew that it was raised by _boo-oin_, or sorcery,\nsince these storms are the worst of all. Then, without fear, he rose,\nand, filling his lungs and puffing his cheeks, he blew against the\ntempest, wind against wind, until he blew the wind away, and the great\nwater was '_aoobuneak_', as calm and smooth as before.\n\nSo they sailed on over the sunlit sea, but it was not long before the\nElf-gifted saw rising among the waves far before them a dark mass,\nwhich soon proved to be a tremendous Beast coming to attack them. And\nas he drew near they saw it was Quahbeet, the giant beaver, and his eyes\nwere angry. [Footnote: From the beginning, when _Quahbeetsis_,\nthe son of the Beaver, inspired Malsumsis with hatred of Glooskap, this\nquadruped appears as an enemy.] But the Mikumwess, seeing this, steered\nstraight to meet the monster, and, coming to him, said, \"I am the great\nhunter of beavers; lo, I am their butcher; many a one has fallen by my\nhand.\" [Footnote: This is oddly like the speech of the beaver-killer in\n_The Hunting of the Snark_.] Now the Beaver had placed himself\nunder water, with his tail out of it and rising upwards, that he might\nsink the canoe with a blow thereof; for the Beaver strikes mightily in\nsuch wise, as is his wont. But he of the magic power, with one blow of\nhis tomahawk, cut the tail from the body, and sailed onward.\n\nYet they had not gone far ere, on rounding a point, they saw before\nthem another animal of giant size, who likewise had his tail in the\nair, waiting to overcome them, and this was A-bekk-thee-lo (M.), the\nSkunk. Yet ere he made his hideous attack the Mikumwess, ever on the\nwatch, caught up his spear, and, hurling it, pierced A-bekk-thee-lo,\nwho did but kick two or three times ere he died. And, stepping ashore,\nhe who had slain him took a pole, a long dead pine, which lay upon the\nsand, and, transfixing the Skunk, lifted him high in air, and, planting\nthe tree on the ground, left him, saying scornfully, as he left,\n\"_Lik cho je nain_!\" which, being interpreted, meaneth, \"And now\nshow your tail there!\" [Footnote: The Skunk is here a parody on the\nBeaver.]\n\nSo they returned safely. And Glooskap met them at the landing, and his\nfirst words were, \"Well, my friends, I see that you have brought back\nmy canoe.\" And they answered, \"We have, indeed.\" Then he inquired,\" Has\nall gone well with ye?\" And they replied that it had. Then Glooskap,\nlaughing, let them know that in all they had experienced he had been\nbusy, and that in all their triumphs he had had a hand. And to the\nMikumwess he said, \"Go now thy ways, thou and these, and ever lead\nhappy lives: thou amid the Elfin, they among mankind. And be sure of\nthis, that if danger or trouble should come to you, you have but to\nthink of me, and verily aid will come.\" So they rose and went to their\nwigwams. [Footnote: In its earlier form this must have been a very\nremarkable narrative, or poem. That the two combatants in the race were\noriginally the personified Northern Lights and Lightning, and that\nthese were _not_ merely names assumed for boasting, is shown by\nthe incident that the Lightning actually _passed round the world_,\nwhile the Aurora Borealis only covered a portion of it. The diving is\neither a later addition, or it represents the same stupendous spirits\ntaking on the appearance of mastering the element of water as well as\nthat of fire. Without carrying the Solar myth theory to extremes, it\ncannot be denied that Glooskap appears in several of these stories as\nSpring, or as the melter of ice, the conqueror of the frozen stream and\nof the iceberg. In this narrative he is active and creative Nature\nitself, directing and sporting with the warring elements. His vast\npractical joking cannot fail to remind the reader yet again of the\nNorse deities and their jovial household godhood.\n\nThis tradition is Micmac, and taken almost entirely from Mr. Rand's\nmanuscript. It should be borne in mind that it is not from a single\nstory of this collection, but from a careful analysis and comparison of\nthem all, that their entire value is to be ascertained.\n\nCertain incidents in this tale deserve special attention. The young men\ngo to a land of evil sorcerers, of _boo-oin_. When one is required\nto run a race he conquers because he is really the Lightning. When Thor\nvisits Utgard Loki, there is also a race, in which Hugi wins, because\nhe is _Thought_ disguised as a man. Glooskap has a canoe, which is\nsometimes immensely large, but which at other times shrinks to a very\nsmall size. In the Edda, Odin is said to have had made for him by the\ndwarfs a boat, Skidbladnir, which, like Glooskap's bark, expanded or\ndiminished. Sigurd, in the New Edda, is obliged to kill a dragon, and\nit is very remarkable that he does it by a special previous\npreparation. That is to say, he digs a little ditch, and when the\ndragon crawls over it the hero pierces him with his sword. In this\nstory the Indian lays a log over the dragon's hole, to enable him to\nchop his head off. The dragon, or horned snake, is an old-time\ntradition in America, or pre-Columbian.]\n\n\n\n\n_How a Certain Wicked Witch sought to cajole the Great and Good\nGlooskap, and of her Punishment._\n\n(Micmac.)\n\n\n_N'karnayoo_, of old time. Once it came to pass that Glooskap met\nwith an evil witch, and she had made herself like unto a fair young\ngirl, and believed that he could not know who she was. And she asked\nhim to take her with him in his canoe. So they sailed out over a summer\nsea: and as they went the witch sought to beguile him with sweet words;\nbut he answered naught, for he wist well what kind of passenger he had\non board. And as they went on she played her cajoleries, but he\nremained grim as a bear. Then she, being angry, showed it, and there\narose a great storm. The wind howled over the waves as they rose and\nfell, like white wolves jumping while they run, the first lightnings\nflashed, and the sky grew dark as night. The Master was angered that so\nmean a creature dared to play him such tricks, and, paddling the canoe\nto the beach, he leaped ashore. Then giving the bark, with the witch in\nit, a push out to sea, he cried to her, \"Sail thou with the devil! But\nnever be in human form again, O she-beast!\"\n\nThen she, being frightened, said, \"Master, what wilt thou that I\nbecome?\" And he replied, \"Whatever thou wilt; that grace alone I give\nthee.\" And in despair she plunged into the waters, and became a\n_keegunibe_, a ferocious fish, which has upon its back a great\nfin, which it shows like a sail when swimming through the water. So the\ncanoe and the witch became one in the evil fish, and the Indians to\nthis day when they see it, cry, \"See the witch, who was punished by the\ngreat Master!\"\n\nNow of sinful men, evil beasts, foul sorcerers, witches, and giants,\nthere were in those days many who sought to do great harm to Glooskap;\nbut of them all there did not escape any; verily, no, not one.\n[Footnote: A Micmac story, from the Rand manuscript. I believe that the\nfish here spoken of is a shark.]\n\n\n\n\n_Of other Men who went to Glooskap for Gifts_.\n\n(Micmac.)\n\n\n_N'karnayoo: wood-enit-atokhagen Glooskap_. Of the old times: this\nis a story of Glooskap. Now there went forth many men unto Glooskap,\nhearing that they could win the desires of their hearts; and all got\nwhat they asked for, in any case; but as for having what they wanted,\nthat depended on the wisdom with which they wished or acted.\n\nThe good Glooskap liked it not that when he had told any one evenly and\nplainly what to do, that man should then act otherwise, or double with\nhim. And it came to pass that a certain fool, of the kind who can do\nnothing unless it be in his own way, made a long journey to the Master.\nAnd his trials were indeed many. For he came to an exceeding high\nmountain in a dark and lonely land, where he heard no sound. And the\nascent thereof was like a smooth pole, and the descent on the other\nside far worse, for it hung over the bottom. Yet it was worse beyond,\nfor there the road lay between the heads of two huge serpents, almost\ntouching each other, who darted their terrible tongues at those who\nwent between. And yet again the path passed under the Wall of Death.\nNow this wall hung like an awful cloud over a plain, rising and falling\nat times, yet no man knew when. And when it fell it struck the ground,\nand that so as to crush all that was beneath it.\n\nBut the young man escaped all these trials, and came to the island of\nthe Great Master. And when he had dwelt there a certain time, and was\nasked what he would have, he replied, \"If my lord will, let him give me\na medicine which will cure all disease.\" More than this he asked not.\nSo the Master gave him a certain small package, and said, \"Herein is\nthat which thou seekest; but I charge thee that thou lettest not thine\neyes behold it until thou shalt reach thy home.\" So he thanked the\nMaster, and left.\n\nBut he was not far away ere he desired to open the package and test the\nmedicine, and, yet more, the truth of the Master. And he said to\nhimself, \"Truly, if this be but a deceit it was shrewdly devised to bid\nme not open it till I returned. For he knew well that once so far I\nwould make no second journey to him. Tush! if the medicine avail aught\nit cannot change in aught.\" So he opened it, when that which was\ntherein fell to the ground, and spread itself like water everywhere,\nand then dried away like a mist. And when he returned and told his\ntale, men mocked him.\n\nThen again there were three brothers, who, having adventured, made\nknown their wishes. Now the first was very tall, far above all his\nfellows, and vain of his comeliness. For he was of those who put bark\nor fur into their moccasins, that they may be looked up to by the\nlittle folk and be loved by the squaws; and his hair was plastered to\nstand up on high, and on the summit of it was a very long turkey-tail\nfeather. And this man asked to become taller than any Indian in all the\nland. [Footnote: This story has been told to me in three different\nforms. I have here given it with great care in what I conceive to be\nthe original. In one version it is the pine, in another the cedar-tree.]\n\nAnd the second wished that he might ever remain where he was to behold\nthe land and the beauty of it, and to do naught else.\n\nAnd the third wished to live to an exceeding old age, and ever to be in\ngood health.\n\nNow the three, when they came to the island, had found there three\nwigwams, and in two of these were dwellers, not spoken of in other\ntraditions. In one lived _Cool-puj-ot_, a very strange man. For he\nhas no bones, and cannot move himself, but every spring and autumn he\nis _rolled over with handspikes_ by the order of Glooskap, and\nthis is what his name means in the Micmac tongue. And in the autumn he\nis turned towards the west, but in the spring towards the east, and\nthis is a figure of speech denoting the revolving seasons of the year.\nWith his breath he can sweep down whole armies, and with his looks\nalone he can work great wonders, and all this means this weather,--\nfrost, snow, ice, and sunshine. [Footnote: Mr. Rand (manuscript, p.\n471) says that all of this explanation was given _verbatim_ by a\nMicmac named Stephen Flood, who was a \"very intelligent and reliable\nIndian.\" Cool-puj-ot is almost identical with Shawandasee, the guardian\nof the South. \"He is represented as an affluent, plethoric old man, who\nhas grown unwieldy from repletion, and seldom moves. He keeps his eyes\nsteadfastly fixed on the north. When he sighs in autumn, we have those\nbalmy southern airs, which communicate warmth and delight over the\nnorthern hemisphere, and make the Indian summer.\" The \"affluence\" and\n\"grown unwieldy from repletion,\" in this account, are probably due to\nSchoolcraft's florid style. (_Hiawatha Legends_.) Shawandasee is\nidentical with Svasud of the Edda. (Vafthrudnisnal, 27.)]\n\nAnd in the other wigwam dwelt _Cuhkw_ (M.), which means\nEarthquake. And this mighty man can pass along under the ground, and\nmake all things shake and tremble by his power.\n\nNow when Glooskap had heard what these visitors wished for, he called\nEarthquake, and bid him take them all three and put them with their\nfeet in the ground. And he did so, when they at once became three\ntrees: as one tradition declares, pines; and another, cedars.\n\nSo that he that would be tall became exceeding tall, for his head rose\nabove the forest; and even the turkey-feather at the top thereof is not\nforgotten, since to this day it is seen waving in the wind. And he who\nwill listen in a pine-wood may hear the tree murmuring all day long in\nthe Indian tongue of the olden time,--\n\n  \"Ee nil Etuchi nek m'kilaskitopp\n  Ee nil Etuche wiski nek n'kil ooskedjin.\"\n  [Footnote: Passamaquoddy.]\n\n  Oh, I am such a great man!\n  Oh, I am such a great Indian!\n\nAnd the second, who would remain in the land, remains there; for while\nhis roots are in the ground he cannot depart from it.\n\nAnd the third, who would live long in health, unless men have cut him\ndown, is standing as of yore. [Footnote: In another version of this\ntale, Glooskap transformed him into an old gnarled and twisted cedar,\nwith limbs growing out rough and ugly all the way from the bottom.\n\"There,\" he said to the cedar-tree, \"I cannot say how long you will\nlive; only the Great Spirit above can tell that; but you will not be\ndisturbed for a good while, as no one can have any object in cutting\nyou down. You are yourself unfit for any earthly purpose, and the land\naround you is useless for cultivation. I think you will stand there for\na long while.\" (Rand manuscript.)\n\nIt should be added that in one version we are told that the seeds from\nthese cedars or pines were blown by the wind, and so spread forth all\nover the earth. The planting of the cedar by Earthquake possibly\nindicates the storms by which seeds are blown afar.]\n\n\n\n\n_Of Glooskap and the Three Other Seekers_.\n\n(Micmac.)\n\n\nOf old time. Now when it was noised abroad that whoever besought\nGlooskap could obtain the desire of his heart, there were three men who\nsaid among themselves, \"Let us seek the Master.\" So they left their\nhome in the early spring when the bluebird first sang, and walked till\nthe fall frosts, and then into winter, and ever on till the next\nmidsummer. And having come to a small path in a great forest, they\nfollowed it, till they came out by a very beautiful river; so fair a\nsight they had never seen, and so went onward till it grew to be a\ngreat lake. And so they kept to the path which, when untrodden, was\nmarked by blazed trees, the bark having been removed, in Indian\nfashion, on the side of the trunk which is _opposite_ the place\nwhere the wigwam or village lies towards which it turns. So the mark\ncan be seen as the traveler goes towards the goal, but not while\nleaving it.\n\n[Illustration: GLOOSKAP TURNING A MAN INTO A CEDAR-TREE]\n\nThen after a time they came to a long point of land running out into\nthe lake, and, having ascended a high hill, they saw in the distance a\nsmoke, which guided them to a large, well-built wigwam. And, entering,\nthey found seated on the right side a handsome, healthy man of middle\nage, and by the other a woman so decrepit that she seemed to be a\nhundred years old. Opposite the door, and on the left side, was a mat,\nwhich seemed to show that a third person had there a seat.\n\nAnd the man made them welcome, and spoke as if he were _weleda'asit\nkesegvou_ (M.)--well pleased to see them, but did not ask them\nwhence they came or whither they were going, as is wont among Indians\nwhen strangers come to their homes or are met in travel. Erelong they\nheard the sound of a paddle, and then the noise of a canoe being drawn\nashore. And there came in a youth of fine form and features and well\nclad, bearing weapons as if from hunting who addressed the old woman as\n_Kejoo_, or mother, and told her that he had brought game. And\nwith sore ado--for she was feeble--the old dame tottered out and\nbrought in four beavers; but she was so much troubled to cut them up\nthat the elder, saying to the younger man _Uoh-keen_! (M.), \"My\nbrother,\" bade him do the work. And they supped on beaver. So they\nremained for a week, resting themselves, for they were sadly worn with\ntheir wearisome journey, and also utterly ragged. And then a wondrous\nthing came to pass, which first taught them that they were in an\nenchanted land. For one morning the elder man bade the younger wash\ntheir mother's face. And as he did this all her wrinkles vanished, and\nshe became young and very beautiful; in all their lives the travelers\nhad never seen so lovely a woman. Her hair, which had been white and\nscanty, now hung to her feet, dark and glossy as a blackbird's breast.\nThen, having been clad in fine array, she showed a tall, lithe, and\ngraceful form at its best.\n\nAnd the travelers said to themselves, \"Truly this man is a great\nmagician!\" They all walked forth to see the place. Never was sunshine\nso pleasantly tempered by a soft breeze; for all in that land was fair,\nand it grew fairer day by day to all who dwelt there. Tall trees with\nrich foliage and fragrant flowers, but without lower limbs or\nunderbrush, grew as in a grove, wide as a forest, yet so far apart that\nthe eye could pierce the distance in every direction.\n\nNow when they felt for the first time that they were in a new life and\na magic land, he that was host asked them whence they came and what\nthey sought. So they said that they sought Glooskap. And the host\nreplied, \"Lo, I am he!\" And they were awed by his presence, for a great\nglory and majesty now sat upon him. As the woman had changed, so had\nhe, for all in that place was wonderful.\n\nThen the first, telling what he wanted, said, \"I am a wicked man, and I\nhave a bad temper. I am prone to wrath and reviling, yet I would fain\nbe pious, meek, and holy.\"\n\nAnd the next said, \"I am very poor, and my life is hard. I toil, but\ncan barely make my living. I would fain be rich.\"\n\nNow the third replied, \"I am of low estate, being despised and hated by\nall my people, and I wish to be loved and respected.\" And to all these\nthe Master made answer, \"So shall it be!\"\n\nAnd taking his medicine-bag (_Upsakumoode_, M.) he gave unto each\na small box, and bade them keep it closed until they should be once\nmore at home. [Footnote: In this version (Rand manuscript) there is a\nfourth Indian introduced,--he who would fain be tall and long-lived,\nand is changed to a tree. As it is precisely the same tale as that of\nthe three who became cypresses or pines, I have not repeated it.] And\non returning to the wigwam he also, gave to each of them new garments;\nin all their lives they had never seen or heard of such rich apparel or\nsuch ornaments as they now had. Then when it was time to depart, as\nthey knew not the way to their home, he arose and went with them. Now\nthey had been more than a year in coming. But he, having put on his\nbelt, went forth, and they followed, till in the forenoon he led them\nto the top of a high mountain, from which in the distance they beheld\nyet another, the blue outline of which could just be seen above the\nhorizon. And having been told that their way was unto it, they thought\nit would be a week's journey to reach it. But they went on, and in the\nmiddle of the afternoon of the same day they were there, on the summit\nof the second mountain. And looking from this afar, all was familiar to\nthem--hill and river, and wood and lakes; all was in their memory. \"And\nthere,\" said the Master, pointing unto it,--\"there is your own village!\"\nSo he left them alone, and they went on their way, and before the sun had\nset were safe at home.\n\nYet when they came no one knew them, because of the great change in\ntheir appearance and their fine attire, the like of which had never\nbeen seen by man in those days. But having made themselves known to\ntheir friends, all that were there of old and young gathered together\nto gaze upon and hear what they had to say. And they were amazed.\n\nThen each of them, having opened his box, found therein an unguent,\nrich and fragrant, and with this they rubbed their bodies completely.\nAnd they were ever after so fragrant from the divine anointing that all\nsought to be near them. Happy were they who could but sniff at the\nblessed smell which came from them.\n\nNow he who had been despised for his deformity and weakness and\nmeanness became beautiful and strong and stately as a pine-tree. There\nwas no man in all the land so graceful or of such good behavior.\n\nAnd he who had desired abundance had it, in all fullness, his wish. For\nthe moose and caribou came to him in the forest, the fish leaped into\nhis nets, all men gave unto him, and he gave unto all freely, to the\nend.\n\nAnd he that had been wicked and of evil mind, hasty and cruel, became\nmeek and patient, good and gentle, and he made others like himself. And\nhe had his reward, for there was a blessing upon him as upon all those\nwho had wished wisely even unto the end of their days. [Footnote: This\nbeautiful story, in its original simplicity, reminds one of the\ntenderest biblical narratives. There is in it nothing reflected or\nsecond-hand; it is a very ancient or truly aboriginal tale. I can but\nsincerely regret my utter inability to do justice to it. The pen of a\ngreat master would be required to describe the fairyland freshness and\nlight of Glooskap's home as it is _felt_ in the original by men\nfar more familiar with the forest in all its loveliness at all seasons\nthan any white writer can be. The _naivete_ or simplicity of the\npilgrims is as striking as that of the narrator or poet, to whom fine\nclothes--a Homeric trait--are as wonderful as all the deeds of magic\nwhich he describes.\n\nIn this and other tales a man is represented as being punished by being\nturned into a tree, so that he can never leave a certain spot. This is\na kind of imprisonment. In the Edda the Ash Yggdrasil is the prison of\nIduna.\n\n  \"She ill brooked\n  her descent\n  under the hoar tree's\n  trunk confined.\"\n\n  (_Hrofnagaldr Odins_, 7.)\n\nIt is to keep a man or a woman in a certain place, as prisoner, that\nthe characters described in the Indian and Norse myths are put into\ntrees.\n\nThis was related to Mr. Rand by Benjamin Brooks, a Micmac.]\n\n\n\n\n_Of Glooskap and the Sinful Serpent._\n\n(Passamaquoddy.)\n\n\nOf old time it befell that Glooskap had an enemy, an evil man, a sinful\nbeast, a great sorcerer. And this man, after trying many things, made\nhimself a great serpent, hoping so to slay the Master.\n\nOf old time Glooskap met a boy whose name was _'Nmmokswess_, the\nSable. [Footnote: Evidently no other than Marten, or the Abistanooch of\nthe Micmac mythology.] And the boy had a flute: whoever played on it\ncould entice unto him all the animals. And once, when the Master was\nafar, the boy broke the flute, and in his great sorrow he would not\nreturn home, but wandered away into the wilderness. Now Glooskap knew\nin his heart that the flute was broken: he who is a magician knows at\nonce of a great evil. And coming home, he asked of the grandmother\nwhere the boy was, and she could only weep. Then the Master said,\n\"Though I roam forever, yet will I find the boy.\" So he went forth, and\nhe tracked him in the snow for three days; and on the third night he\nheard some one singing in a hollow; and it was a magic song, that which\nthe _m'teoulin_ sings when he is in dire need and death is near.\nAnd making a circle round about the place, Glooskap looked down and saw\na wigwam, and heard the voice more distinctly as he drew nearer; and it\nwas the voice of the boy, and he was singing a song against all of the\nsnake kind. And he was wandering about the wigwam, seeking a straight\nstick.\n\nThen Glooskap understood all the thing, and how the boy had been\nenticed into the wilderness by the evil arts of At-o-sis, the Snake,\nand that the Great Serpent was in the wigwam, and had sent him out to\nseek a straight stick. Then Glooskap, singing again softly, bade him\nget a very crooked one, and told what more to do. So the boy got an\nexceedingly crooked one; and when he entered, the Snake, seeing it,\nsaid, \"Why hast thou got such a bad stick?\" And the boy, answering,\nsaid, \"Truly, it is very crooked, but that which is crookedest may be\nmade straightest, and I know a charm whereby this can be done; for I\nwill but heat this stick in the fire, and, then I will make it quite\nstraight, as you shall see.\" Now At-o-sis was very anxious to behold\nthis wonderful thing, and he looked closely; but the boy, as soon as\nthe end of the stick was red-hot, thrust it into his eyes and blinded\nhim, and ran forth. Yet the Snake followed him; but when he was without\nthe wigwam he met the Master, who slew him out of hand. [Footnote: This\ncurious legend is suggestive of Ulysses and the Cyclops. The enemies of\nGlooskap are all cannibals; the boy is sent out for a straight stick to\nserve as a spit to roast him on. It is not impossible that the Snake,\nin some perfect version of the tale, has but a single eye since many of\nthe evil creatures of red Indian mythology are half stone lengthwise.\nBut the whole story is full of strange hints. It was told me by Tomah\nJosephs, at Campobello, N. B.]\n\nOf old times. This is an end of the story.\n\n\n\n\n_The Tale of Glooskap as told by another Indian. Showing how the Toad\nand Porcupine lost their Noses._\n\n(Micmac.)\n\n\nIn the old time. Far before men knew themselves, in the light before\nthe sun, Glooskap and his brother were as yet unborn; they waited for\nthe day to appear. Then they talked together, and the youngest said,\n\"Why should I wait? I will go into the world and begin my life at\nonce.\" Then the elder said, \"Not so, for this were a great evil.\" But\nthe younger gave no heed to any wisdom: in his wickedness he broke\nthrough his mother's side, he rent the wall; his beginning of life was\nhis mother's death.\n\nNow, in after years, the younger brother would learn in what lay the\nsecret of the elder's death. And Glooskap, being crafty, told the truth\nand yet lied; for his name was the Liar, yet did he never lie for evil\nor aught to harm. So he told his brother that the blow of a ball, or\nhandful of the down of feathers, would take away his life; and this was\ntrue, for it would stun him, but it would not prevent his returning to\nlife. Then Glooskap asked the younger for his own secret. And he, being\ndetermined to give the elder no time, answered truly and fearlessly, \"I\ncan only be slain by the stroke of a cat-tail or bulrush.\"\n\nAnd then the younger, having gathered the down of bird's feathers,\nstruck the elder, so that he fell dead, and therein he told the truth.\nBut he soon recovered, and in that was his deceit. Howbeit it was well\nfor the world and well for him that he then gathered bulrushes and\nsmote his younger brother, so that he died. But the plant never grew\nthat could harm the Master, wherefore he is alive to this day.\n\nWho was his mother? The female Turtle was his mother.\n\nThe Master was the Lord of Men and Beasts. Beasts and Men, one as the\nother, he ruled them all Great was his army, his tribe was All. In it\nthe Great Golden Eagle was a chief; he married a female Caribou. The\nTurtle was Glooskap's uncle; he married a daughter of the Golden Eagle\nand Caribou. Of all these things there are many and long traditions.\nOur people tell them in the winter by the fire: the old people know\nthem; the young forget them and the wisdom which is in them.\n\nWhen the Turtle married, the Master bade him make a feast, and wished\nthat the banquet should be a mighty one. To do this he gave him great\npower. He bade him go down to a point of rocks by the sea, where many\nwhales were always to be found. He bade him bring one; he gave him\npower to do so, but he set a mark, or an appointed space, and bade him\nnot go an inch beyond it. So the Turtle went down to the sea; he caught\na great whale, he bore it to camp; it seemed to him easy to do this.\nBut like all men there was in him vain curiosity; the falsehood of\ndisobedience was in him, and to try the Master he went beyond the mark;\nand as he did this he lost his magic strength; he became as a man; even\nas a common mortal his nerves weakened, and he fell, crushed flat\nbeneath the weight of the great fish.\n\nThen men ran to Glooskap, saying that Turtle was dead. But the Master\nanswered, \"Cut up the Whale; he who is now dead will revive.\" So they\ncut it up; (and when the feast was ready) Turtle came in yawning, and\nstretching out his leg he cried, \"How tired I am! Truly, I must have\noverslept myself.\" Now from this time all men greatly feared Glooskap,\nfor they saw that he was a spirit.\n\nIt came to pass that the Turtle waxed mighty in his own conceit, and\nthought that he could take Glooskap's place and reign in his stead. So\nhe held a council of all the animals to find out how he could be slain.\nThe Lord of Men and Beasts laughed at this. Little did he care for\nthem!\n\nAnd knowing all that was in their hearts, he put on the shape of an old\nsquaw and went into the council-house. And he sat down by two witches:\none was the Porcupine, the other the Toad; as women they sat there. Of\nthem the Master asked humbly how they expected to kill him. And the\nToad answered savagely, \"What is that to thee, and what hast thou to do\nwith this thing?\" \"Truly,\" he replied, \"I meant no harm,\" and saying\nthis he softly touched the tips of their noses, and rising went his\nway. But the two, witches, looking one at the other, saw presently that\ntheir noses were both gone, and they screamed aloud in terror, but\ntheir faces were none the less flat. And so it came that the Toad and\nthe Porcupine both lost their noses and have none to this day.\n\nGlooskap had two dogs. One was the Loon (Kwemoo), the other the Wolf\n(Malsum). Of old all animals were as men; the Master gave them the\nshapes which they now bear. But the Wolf and the Loon loved Glooskap so\ngreatly that since he left them they howl and wail. He who hears their\ncries over the still sound and lonely lake, by the streams where no\ndwellers are, or afar at night in the forests and hollows, hears them\nsorrowing for the Master.\n\nI am indebted for this legend to Mr. Edward Jack, of Fredericton, N. B.\n\"I give it to you,\" he writes, \"just as it came from an Indian's lips,\nas he sat before the fire in my room this evening, smoking his tobacco\nmixed with willow bark. He has an endless store of Indian lore.\" It may\nbe observed that this story gives a far more ingenious reason for\nGlooskap's telling his brother what would be his bane than appears in\nthe other version. For he tells him what would indeed deprive him of\nlife, but not forever.\n\nNo one can compare the story of Glooskap with that of Manobozho-Hiawatha\nand the like, as given by Schoolcraft or Cusick, and not decide that the\nlatter seems to be a second-hand version of the former. In one we have\nthe _root_ of the bulrush,--not the light, feathery rush itself. In\nthis story, as in that of Balder and Loki, it is the very apparent\nharmlessness of the bane which points the incident. Manobozho's father\n_says_ that a black rock will kill him; but it does not, although\nhe flies before it. Glooskap declares that a handful of down will cause\nhis death. The _double entendre_ of the swoon is entirely wanting\nin the Western tale, as is the apparent harmlessness of the medium of\ndeath. In the Edda the mistletoe, the softest, and apparently the least\ninjurious, of plants, kills Balder; in the Wabanaki tale it is a ball of\ndown or a rush. The Chippewas change it, like savages, to a substantial\nroot and a black rock, thereby manifesting an insensibility to the point\nof the original, which is that the most trifling thing may be the cause\nof the most terrible events.\n\n\n\n\n_How Glooskap changed Certain Saucy Indians into Rattlesnakes_\n\n(Passamaquoddy.)\n\n\nYou know At-o-sis, the Snake? Well, the worst of all is Rattlesnake.\nLong time ago the Rattlesnakes were saucy Indians. They were very\nsaucy. They had too much face. They could not be put down by much, and\nthey got up for very little.\n\nWhen the great Flood was coming Glooskap told them about it. They said\nthey did not care. He told them the water would come over their heads.\nThey said that would be very wet. He told them to be good and quiet,\nand pray. Then those Indians hurrahed. He said, \"A great Flood is\ncoming.\" Then they gave three cheers for the great Flood. He said, \"The\nFlood will come and drown you all.\" Then these Indians hurrahed again,\nand got their rattles, made of turtle-shells, in the old fashion,\nfastened together, filled with pebbles, and rattled them and had a\ngrand dance. Afterwards, when the white men brought cows and oxen into\nthe country, they made rattles of horns.\n\nYes, they had a great dance. The rain began to fall, but they danced.\nThe thunder roared, and they shook their rattles and yelled at it. Then\nGlooskap was angry. He did not drown them in the Flood, however, but he\nchanged them into rattlesnakes. Nowadays, when they see a man coming,\nthey lift up their heads and move them about. That's the way snakes\ndance. And they shake the rattles in their tails just as Indians shake\ntheir rattles when they dance. How do you like such music?\n\nA Passamaquoddy tale related by an old woman to Mrs. W. Wallace Brown.\nThese Indians still keep up a very curious snake-dance.\n\n\n\n\n_How Glooskap bound Wuchowsen, the Great Wind-Bird, and made all the\nWaters in all the World Stagnant._\n\n(Passamaquoddy.)\n\n\nThe Indians believe in a great bird called by them _Wochowsen_ or\n_Wuchowsen_, meaning Wind-Blow or the Wind-Blower, who lives far\nto the North, and sits upon a great rock at the end of the sky. And it\nis because whenever he moves his wings the wind blows they of old times\ncalled him that.\n\nWhen Glooskap was among men he often went out in his canoe with bow and\narrows to kill sea-fowl. At one time it was every day very windy; it\ngrew worse; at last it blew a tempest, and he could not go out at all.\nThen he said, \"Wuchowsen, the Great Bird, has done this!\"\n\nHe went to find him; it was long ere he reached his abode. He found\nsitting on a high rock a large white Bird.\n\n\"Grandfather,\" said Glooskap, \"you take no compassion on your\n_Koosesek_, your grandchildren. You have caused this wind and\nstorm; it is too much. Be easier with your wings!\"\n\nThe Giant Bird replied, \"I have been here since ancient times; in the\nearliest days, ere aught else spoke, I first moved my wings; mine was\nthe first voice,--and I will ever move my wings as I will.\"\n\nThen Glooskap rose in his might; he rose to the clouds; he took the\nGreat Bird-giant Wuchowsen as though he were a duck, and tied both his\nwings, and threw him down into a chasm between deep rocks, and left him\nlying there.\n\nThe Indians could now go out in their canoes all day long, for there\nwas a dead calm for many weeks and months. And with that all the waters\nbecame stagnant. They were so thick that Glooskap could not paddle his\ncanoe. Then he thought of the Great Bird, and went to see him.\n\nAs he had left him he found him, for Wuchowsen is immortal. So, raising\nhim, he put him on his rock again, and untied one of his wings. Since\nthen the winds have never been so terrible as in the old time. The\nreader will find the main incident of this story repeated in\n\"Tumilkoontaoo, the Broken Wing,\" from the Micmac, in which there is no\nmention of Glooskap. This of _Wuchowsen_ is from the Passamaquoddy\nmanuscript collection by Louis Mitchell. It is unquestionably the\noriginal. Glooskap, as the greatest magician, most appropriately\nsubdues the giant eagle of the North, the terrible god of the storm.\n\nNo one who knows the Edda will deny that Wuchowsen, or the Wind-blower,\nas he appears in the Passamaquoddy tale, is far more like the same bird\nof the Norsemen than the grotesque Thunder Bird of the Western tribes.\nHe is distinctly spoken of by the Indians of Maine as a giant and a\nbird in one, sitting on a high cliff at the end of the sky, the wind--not\nthunder--coming from his pinions:--\n\n  \"Tell me ninthly,\n  Since thou art called wise,\n  Whence the wind comes,\n  That over ocean passes,\n  Itself invisible to man.\n\n  \"Hraesvelg he is called\n  Who at the end of heaven sits,\n  A Jotun (giant) in eagle's plumage:\n  From his wings comes,\n  It is said, the wind.\n  That over all men passes.\"\n\n  (The Lay of Vafthrudnir. The Edda, trans. by B. Thorpe.)\n\n\n\n\n_How Glooskcap conquered the Great Bull-Frog, and in what Manner all\nthe Pollywogs, Crabs, Leeches, and other Water Creatures were\ncreated._\n\n(Passamaquoddy and Micmac.)\n\n\n_N'karnayoo_, of old times, there was an Indian village far away\namong the mountains, little known to other men. And the dwellers\ntherein were very comfortable: the men hunted every day, the women did\nthe work at home, and all went well in all things save in this. The\ntown was by a brook, and except in it there was not a drop of water in\nall the country round, unless in a few rain-puddles. No one there had\never found even a spring.\n\nNow these Indians were very fond of good water. The brook was of a\nsuperior quality, and they became dainty over it.\n\nBut after a time they began to observe that the brook was beginning to\nrun low, and that not in the summer time, but in autumn, even after the\nrains. And day by day it diminished, until its bed was as dry as a dead\nbone in the ashes of a warm fire.\n\nNow it was said that far away up in the land where none had ever been\nthere was on this very stream another Indian village; but what manner\nof men dwelt therein no one knew. And thinking that these people of the\nupper country might be in some way concerned in the drought, they sent\none of their number to go and see into the matter.\n\nAnd after he had traveled three days he came to the place; and there he\nfound that a dam had been raised across the rivulet, so that no water\ncould pass, for it was all kept in a pond. Then asking them why they\nhad made this mischief, since the dam was of no use to them, they bade\nhim go and see their chief, by whose order this had been built.\n\nAnd when he came to him, lo, there lay lazily in the mud a creature who\nwas more of a monster than a man, though he had a human form. For he\nwas immense to measure, like a giant, fat, bloated, and brutal to\nbehold. His great yellow eyes stuck from his head like pine-knots, his\nmouth went almost from ear to ear, and he had broad, skinny feet with\nlong toes, exceeding marvelous.\n\nThe messenger complained to this monster, who at first said nothing,\nand then croaked, and finally replied in a loud bellow,--\n\n  \"Do as you choose,\n  Do as you choose,\n  Do as you choose.\n\n  \"What do I care?\n  What do I care?\n  What do I care?\n\n  \"If you want water,\n  If you want water,\n  If you want water,\n  Go somewhere else.\"\n\nThen the messenger remonstrated, and described the suffering of the\npeople, who were dying of thirst. And this seemed to please the\nmonster, who grinned. At last he got up, and, making a single spring to\nthe dam, took an arrow and bored a hole in it, so that a little water\ntrickled out, and then he bellowed,--\n\n  \"Up and begone!\n  Up and begone!\n  Up and begone!\"\n\nSo the man departed, little comforted. He came to his home, and for a\nfew days there was a little water in the stream; but this soon stopped,\nand there was great suffering again.\n\nNow these Indians, who were the honestest fellows in all the world, and\nnever did harm to any one save their enemies, were in a sorry pickle.\nFor it is a bad thing to have nothing but water to drink, but to want\nthat is to be mightily dry. And the great Glooskap, who knew all that\nwas passing in the hearts of men and beasts, took note of this, and\nwhen he willed it he was among them; for he ever came as the wind\ncomes, and no man wist how.\n\nAnd just before he came all of these good fellows had resolved in\ncouncil that they would send the boldest man among them to certain\ndeath, even to the village which built the dam that kept the water\nwhich filled the brook that quenched their thirst, whenever it was not\nempty. And when there he was either to obtain that they should cut the\ndam, or do something desperate, and to this intent he should go armed,\nand sing his death-song as he went. And they were all agog.\n\nThen Glooskap, who was much pleased with all this, for he loved a brave\nman, came among them looking terribly ferocious; in all the land there\nwas not one who seemed half so horrible. For he appeared ten feet high,\nwith a hundred red and black feathers in his scalp-lock, his face\npainted like fresh blood with green rings round his eyes, a large\nclam-shell hanging from each ear, a spread eagle, very awful to behold,\nflapping its wings from the back of his neck, so that as he strode into\nthe village all hearts quaked. Being but simple Indians, they accounted\nthat this must be, if not Lox the Great Wolverine, at least Mitche-hant,\nthe devil himself in person, turned Wabanaki; and they admired\nhim greatly, and the squaws said they had never seen aught so lovely.\n\nThen Glooskap, having heard the whole story, bade them be of good\ncheer, declaring that he would soon set all to rights. And he without\ndelay departed up the bed of the brook; and coming to the town, sat\ndown and bade a boy bring him water to drink. To which the boy replied\nthat no water could be had in that town unless it were given out by the\nchief. \"Go then to your chief,\" said the Master, \"and bid him hurry,\nor, verily, I will know the reason why.\" And this being told, Glooskap\nreceived no reply for more than an hour, during which time he sat on a\nlog and smoked his pipe. Then the boy returned with a small cup, and\nthis not half full, of very dirty water.\n\nSo he arose, and said to the boy, \"I will go and see your chief, and I\nthink he will soon give me better water than this.\" And having come to\nthe monster, he said, \"Give me to drink, and that of the best, at once,\nthou Thing of Mud!\" But the chief reviled him, and said, \"Get thee\nhence, to find water where thou canst.\" Then Glooskap thrust a spear\ninto his belly, and lo! there gushed forth a mighty river; even all the\nwater which should have run on while in the rivulet, for he had made it\ninto himself. And Glooskap, rising high as a giant pine, caught the\nchief in his hand and crumpled in his back with a mighty grip. And lo!\nit was the Bull-Frog. So he hurled him with contempt into the stream,\nto follow the current.\n\nAnd ever since that time the Bull-Frog's back has crumpled wrinkles in\nthe lower part, showing the prints of Glooskap's awful squeeze.\n\nThen he returned to the village; but there he found no people,--no, not\none. For a marvelous thing had come to pass during his absence, which\nshall be heard in every Indian's speech through all the ages. For the\nmen, being, as I said, simple, honest folk, did as boys do when they\nare hungry, and say unto one another, \"What would you like to have, and\nwhat you?\" \"Truly, I would be pleased with a slice of hot venison\ndipped in maple-sugar and bear's oil.\" \"Nay, give me for my share\nsuccotash and honey.\" Even so these villagers had said, \"Suppose\n_you_ had all the nice cold, fresh, sparkling, delicious water\nthere is in the world, what would _you_ do?\"\n\nAnd one said that he would live in the soft mud, and always be wet and\ncool.\n\nAnd another, that he would plunge from the rocks, and take headers,\ndiving into the deep, cold water, drinking as he dived.\n\nAnd the third, that he would be washed up and down with the rippling\nwaves, living on the land, yet ever in the water.\n\nThen the fourth said, \"Verily, you know not how to wish, and I will\nteach you. I would live in the water all the time, and swim about in it\nforever.\"\n\nNow it chanced that these things were said in the hour which, when it\npasses over the world, all the wishes uttered by men are granted. And\nso it was with these Indians. For the first became a Leech, the second\na Spotted Frog, the third a Crab, which is washed up and down with the\ntide, and the fourth a Fish. Ere this there had been in all the world\nnone of the creatures which dwell in the water, and now they were\nthere, and of all kinds. And the river came rushing and roaring on, and\nthey all went headlong down to the sea, to be washed into many lands\nover all the world. [Footnote: This was told by Tomah Josephs. It is\ngiven much more imperfectly in the tale of Kitpooseagunow in the Rand\nmanuscript, and in the Anglo-Indian \"Storey of Glooscap.\" I have taken\nvery great pains in this, as in all the tales written down from verbal\nnarration, to be accurate in details, and to convey as well as I could\nthe quaint manner and dry humor which characterized the style of the\nnarrator. Even white men do not tell the same story in the same way to\neverybody; and if Tomahquah and others fully expressed their feelings\nto me, it was because they had never before met with a white man who\nlistened to them with such sympathy. It may be observed that the\nIndians commonly say that wherever the bull-frog is to be found in\nsummer there is always water. It is not to be understood, in this tale,\nthat the bull-frog is supposed to have merely drunk up the river. It is\nthe river which has become incarnate in him. It is the ice of winter\npenetrated by the spear of the sun; that is, Glooskap. Thus, in another\ntale, a frozen river tries, as a man, to destroy the hero, but is\nmelted by him. The conception of _the hour_ when all wishes are\ngranted, and the abrupt termination of the whole in a grand\ntransformation scene, are both very striking. There is something like\nthe former in Rabelais, in his narrative of the golden hatchet; as\nregards the latter, it is like the ending of a Christmas pantomime.\nIndeed, the entire tale is perfectly adapted to such a \"dramatization.\"\n\nI have been told by an old Passamaquoddy woman that the name of the\nmonster who swallowed the stream was _Hahk-lee-be-mo_.]\n\n\n\n\n_How the Lord of Men and Beasts strove with the Mighty Wasis, and was\nshamefully defeated._\n\n(Penobscot.)\n\n\nNow it came to pass when Glooskap had conquered all his enemies, even the\n_Kewahqu'_, who were giants and sorcerers, and the _m'teoulin_,\nwho were magicians, and the _Pamola_, who is the evil spirit of the\nnight air, and all manner of ghosts, witches, devils, cannibals, and\ngoblins, that he thought upon what he had done, and wondered if his\nwork was at an end.\n\nAnd he said this to a certain woman. But she replied, \"Not so fast,\nMaster, for there yet remains One whom no one has ever conquered or got\nthe better of in any way, and who will remain unconquered to the end of\ntime.\"\n\n\"And who is he?\" inquired the Master.\n\n\"It is the mighty _Wasis_,\" she replied, \"and there he sits; and I\nwarn you that if you meddle with him you will be in sore trouble.\"\n\nNow _Wasis_ was the Baby. And he sat on the floor sucking a piece\nof maple-sugar, greatly contented, troubling no one.\n\nAs the Lord of Men and Beasts had never married or had a child, he knew\nnaught of the way of managing children. Therefore he was quite certain,\nas is the wont of such people, that he knew all about it. So he turned\nto Baby with a bewitching smile and bade him come to him.\n\nThen Baby smiled again, but did not budge. And the Master spake sweetly\nand made his voice like that of the summer bird, but it was of no\navail, for Wasis sat still and sucked his maple-sugar.\n\nThen the Master frowned and spoke terribly, and ordered Wasis to come\ncrawling to him immediately. And Baby burst out into crying and\nyelling, but did not move for all that.\n\nThen, since he could do but one thing more, the Master had recourse to\nmagic. He used his most awful spells, and sang the songs which raise\nthe dead and scare the devils. And Wasis sat and looked on admiringly,\nand seemed to find it very interesting, but all the same he never moved\nan inch.\n\nSo Glooskap gave it up in despair, and Wasis, sitting on the floor in\nthe sunshine, went _goo! goo!_ and crowed.\n\nAnd to this day when you see a babe well contented, going _goo!\ngoo!_ and crowing, and no one can tell why, know that it is because\nhe remembers the time when he overcame the Master who had conquered all\nthe world. For of all the beings that have ever been since the\nbeginning, Baby is alone the only invincible one. [Footnote: I am\nindebted for this \"marchen\" to Maria Saksis, a very intelligent\nPenobscot woman, a widow of a former governor, whom I met at North\nConway, in the White Mountains, N. H. In her dialect Glooskap is\ninvariably called _Glus-gah-be_. She told it with that admirable\ndry drollery, characteristic of a good story-teller in a race where\nthere are no bad ones. The exquisite humor and humanity of this little\nlegend, placed as a pendant to the stupendous successes of the giant\nhero, are such as to entitle its Indian author to rank as a genius. I\nhave frequently asserted that these Wabanaki or Northeastern Algonquin\ntales bore to those of the West the apparent relation of originals to\npoor copies. Let the reader compare this, which is given as nearly word\nfor word as was possible from the Indian narrative, with that of\nManobozho-Hiawatha's effort to compete with a baby. The Cherokee\naccount is that, seeing an infant sucking its own toe, he tried to do\nthe same, and failed. It is in accounting for the unaccountable crowing\nof Baby that the point of the Penobscot story lies. Of this there is no\nmention made in the Western tale, which is utterly wanting in any\nfeeling as to the power of childhood or its charm over the strongest. A\nreal Indian tale may always be assumed to be ancient when it is told to\nset forth an _origin_. This gives the origin of a baby's crowing.]\n\n\n\n\n_How the great Glooskap fought the Giant Sorcerers at Saco, and\nturned them into Fish._\n\n(Penobscot.)\n\n\n_N'karnayoo_, of old times: _Woodenit atok hagen_\n_Glusgahbe_. This is a story of Glooskap (P.) There was a father\nwho had three sons and a daughter: they were _m'teoulin_, or\nmighty magicians; they were giants; they ate men, women, and children;\nthey did everything that was wicked and horrible; and the world grew\ntired of them and of all their abominations. Yet when this family was\nyoung, Glooskap had been their friend; he had made the father his\nadopted father, the brothers his brothers, the sister his sister.\n[Footnote: The Indians make formal adoptions of relatives of every\ngrade, and in addition to this use all the terms of relationship as\nfriendly greetings. This is in fact made apparent in all the stories in\nthis collection.] Yet as they grew older, and he began to hear on every\nside of their wickedness, he said: \"I will go among them and find if\nthis be true. And if it be so, they shall die. I will not spare one of\nthose who oppress and devour men, I do not care who he may be.\"\n\nThis family was at _Samgadihawk_, or Saco, on the sandy field\nwhich is in the Intervale or the summer bed of the Saco River, in the\nEl-now-e-bit, the White Mountains, between Geh-sit-wah-zuch [Footnote:\n_Geh-sit-wah-zuch_, \"many mountains\" (Pen.). Mount Kearsarge, so\ncalled from the several lesser peaks around it.] and K'tchee penahbesk,\n[Footnote: _K'tchee penabesk_, \"the great rock,\" a much more\nsensible and appropriate name than that of \"Cathedral Rocks,\" which has\nbeen bestowed upon it; also _chee penabsk_.] and near Oonahgemessuk\nweegeet, the Home of the Water Fairies. [Footnote: Also called from a\nlegend, _Oonahgemessuk k'tubbee_, the Water Fairies' Spring. This\nappropriate and beautiful name has been rejected in favor of the\nridiculously rococo term \"Diana's Bath.\" As there is a \"Diana's Bath\"\nat almost every summer watering place in America, North Conway must of\ncourse have one. The absolute antipathy which the majority of Americans\nmanifest for the aboriginal names, even in a translation, is really\nremarkable.] Now the old man, the father of the evil magicians and his\nadopted father, had only one eye, and was half gray. [Footnote: This would\ndirectly connect him with the beings which are half stone, like the\nOonahgemessuk, or water-goblins, the dwellers in Katahdin, and the Eskimo\nelves. This will be referred to again.] And Glooskap made himself like\nhim,--there was not between them the difference of a hair; and having\nthis form, he entered the wigwam and sat down by the old man. And the\nbrothers, who killed everybody, not sparing one living soul, hearing a\ntalking, looked in slyly, and seeing the new-comer, so like their father\nthat they knew not which was which, said, \"This is a great magician. But\nhe shall be tried ere he goes, and that bitterly.\"\n\nThen the sister took the tail of a whale, and cooked it for the\nstranger to eat. But as it lay before him, on the platter and on his\nknees, the elder brother entered, and saying rudely, \"This is too good\nfor a beggar like you,\" took it away to his own wigwam. Then Glooskap\nspoke: \"That which was given to me was mine; therefore I take it\nagain.\" And sitting still he simply _wished_ for it, and it came\nflying into the platter where it was before. So he ate it.\n\nThen the brothers said, \"Indeed, he is a great magician. But he shall\nbe tried ere he goes, and that bitterly.\"\n\nWhen he had eaten, they brought in a mighty bone, the jaw of a whale,\nand the eldest brother, with great ado, and using both his arms and all\nhis strength, bent it a little. Then he handed it to Glooskap, who with\nhis thumb and fingers, snapped it like a pipe-stem. And the brothers\nsaid again, \"Truly, this is a great magician. But he shall for all that\nbe tried ere he goes, and that bitterly.\"\n\nThen they brought a great pipe full of the strongest tobacco; no man\nnot a magician could have smoked it. And it was passed round: every one\nsmoked; the brothers blew the smoke through their nostrils. But\nGlooskap filled it full, and, lighting it, burnt all the tobacco to\nashes at one pull, and blew all the smoke through his nostrils at one\npuff. Then the brothers said again in anger, \"This is indeed a great\nmagician. Yet he shall be tried again ere he goes, and that bitterly.\"\nBut they never said it again.\n\nAnd they still tried to smoke with him, and the wigwam was closed; they\nhoped to smother him in smoke, but he sat and puffed away as if he had\nbeen on a mountain-top, till they could bear it no longer. And one\nsaid, \"This is idle; let us go and play at ball.\" The place where they\nwere to play was on the sandy plain of Samgadihawk, or Saco, on the\nbend of the river. [Footnote: I have an Indian stone pestle, or hominy\npounder, which I picked up on the site of this ball-play.] And the game\nbegun; but Glooskap found that the ball with which they played was a\nhideous skull; it was alive and snapped at his heels, and had he been\nas other men and it had bitten him, it would have taken his foot off.\nThen Glooskap laughed, and said, \"So this is the game you play. Good,\nbut let us all play with our own balls.\" So he stepped up to a tree on\nthe edge of the river-bed and broke off the end of a bough, and it\nturned into a skull ten times more terrible than the other. And the\nmagicians ran before it as it chased them as a lynx chases rabbits;\nthey were entirely beaten. Then Glooskap stamped on the sand, and the\nwaters rose and came rushing fearfully from the mountains adown the\nriver-bed; the whole land rang with their roar. Now Glooskap sang a\nmagic song, which changes all beings, and the three brothers and their\nfather became the _chinahmess_, a fish which is as long and large\nas a man, and they went headlong down on the flood, to the deep sea, to\ndwell there forever. And the magicians had on, each of them, a wampum\ncollar; wherefore the _chinahmess_ has beneath its head, as one\nmay say, round its neck, the wampum collar, as may be seen to this day.\nAnd they were mighty _m'teoulin_ in their time; but they were\ntried before they went, and that bitterly.\n\nYes, _seewass_, my brother, this is a true story. For Glus-gah-be\nwas a great man in his day, and the day will come when I shall go to\nhim and see him. [Footnote: This legend is from a single authority,\nMaria Saksis.]\n\n\n\n\n_How Glooskap went to England and France, and was the first to make\nAmerica known to the Europeans_.\n\n(Passamaquoddy.)\n\n\nThere was an Indian woman: she was a Woodchuck (Mon-in-kwess, P.). She\nhad lost a boy; she always thought of him. Once there came to her a\nstrange boy; he called her mother.\n\nHe had a pipe with which he could call all the animals. He said,\n\"Mother, if you let any one have this pipe we shall starve.\"\n\n\"Where did you get it?\"\n\n\"A stranger gave it to me.\"\n\nOne day the boy was making a canoe. The woman took the pipe and blew\nit. There came a deer and a _qwah-beet_,--a beaver. They came\nrunning; the deer came first, the beaver next. The beaver had a stick\nin his mouth; he gave it to her, and said, \"Whenever you wish to kill\nanything, though it were half a mile off, point this stick at it.\" She\npointed it at the deer; it fell dead.\n\nThe boy was Glooskap. He was building a stone canoe. Every morning he\nwent forth, and was gone all day. He worked a year at it. The mother\nhad killed many animals. When the great canoe was finished he took his\n(adopted) mother to see it. He said that he would make sails for it.\nShe asked him, \"Of what will you make them?\" He answered, \"Of leaves.\"\nShe replied, \"Let the leaves alone. I have something better.\" She had\nmany buffalo skins already tanned, and said, \"Take as many as you\nneed.\"\n\nHe took his pipe. He piped for moose; he piped for elk and for bear:\nthey came. He pointed his stick at them: they were slain. He dried\ntheir meat, and so provisioned his great canoe. To carry water he\nkilled many seals; he filled their bladders with water.\n\nSo they sailed across the sea. This was before the white people had\never heard of America. The white men did not discover this country\nfirst at all. Glooskap discovered England, and told them about it. He\ngot to London. The people had never seen a canoe before. They came\nflocking down to look at it.\n\nThe Woodchuck had lost her boy. This boy it was, who first discovered\nAmerica (England?). This boy could walk on the water and fly up to the\nsky. [Footnote: This tale was taken down in very strange and confused\nEnglish. The first part is in my notes almost unintelligible.] He took\nhis mother to England. They offered him a large ship for his stone\ncanoe. He refused it. He feared lest the ship should burn. They offered\nhim servants. He refused them. They gave him presents which almost\noverloaded the canoe. They gave him an anchor and an English flag.\n\nHe and his mother went to France. The French people fired cannon at him\ntill the afternoon. They could not hurt the stone canoe. In the night\nGlooskap drew all their men-of-war ashore. Next morning the French saw\nthis. They said, \"Who did this?\" He answered, \"I did it.\"\n\nThey took him prisoner. They put him into a great cannon and fired it\noff. They looked into the cannon, and there he sat smoking his stone\npipe, knocking the ashes out.\n\nThe king heard how they had treated him. He said it was wrong. He who\ncould do such deeds must be a great man. He sent for Glooskap, who\nreplied, \"I do not want to see your king. I came to this country to\nhave my mother baptized as a Catholic.\" They sent boats, they sent a\ncoach; he was taken to the king, who put many questions to him.\n\nHe wished to have his mother christened. It was done. They called her\nMolly. [Footnote: The Indians pronounce the word Marie Mahli or Molly.\nMahlinskwess, \"Miss Molly,\" sounds like Mon-in-kwess, a woodchuck.\nHence this very poor pun.] Therefore to this day all woodchucks are\ncalled Molly. They went down to the shore; to please the king Glooskap\ndrew all the ships into the sea again. So the king gave him what he\nwanted, and he returned home. Since that time white men have come to\nAmerica.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nThis is an old Eskimo tale, greatly modernized and altered. The Eskimo\nbelieve in a kind of sorcerers or spirits, who have instruments which\nthey merely point at people or animals, to kill them. I think that the\nIndian who told me this story (P.) was aware of its feebleness, and was\nashamed to attribute such nonsense to Glooskap, and therefore made the\nhero an Indian named Woodchuck. But among Mr. Rand's Micmac tales it\nfigures as a later tribute to the memory of the great hero.\n\nOne version of this story was given to me by Tomah Josephs, another by\nMrs. W. Wallace Brown. In the latter Glooskap's canoe is a great ship,\nwith all kinds of birds for sailors. In the Shawnee legend of the\nCelestial Sisters (Hiawatha Legends), a youth who goes to the sky must\ntake with him one of every kind of bird. This indicates that the\nGlooskap voyage meant a trip to heaven.\n\n\n\n\n_How Glooskap is making Arrows, and preparing for a Great Battle. The\nTwilight of the Indian Gods._\n\n(Passamaquoddy.)\n\n\n\"_Is Glooskap living yet_?\" \"Yes, far away; no one knows where.\nSome say he sailed away in his stone canoe beyond the sea, to the east,\nbut he will return in it one day; others, that he went to the west. One\nstory tells that while he was alive those who went to him and found him\ncould have their wishes given to them. But there is a story that if one\ntravels long, and is not afraid, he may still find the great sagamore\n(_sogmo_). Yes. He lives in a very great, a very long wigwam. He\nalways making arrows. One side of the lodge is full of arrows now. They\nso thick as that. When it is all quite full, he will come forth and\nmake war. He never allows any one to enter the wigwam while he is\nmaking these arrows.\"\n\n\"_And on whom will he make war_?\" \"He will make war on all, kill\nall; there will be no more world,--world all gone. Dunno how quick,--\nmebbe long time; all be dead then, mebbe,--guess it will be long time.\"\n\n\"_Are any to be saved by any one_?\" \"Dunno. _Me hear_ how\nsome say world all burn up some day, water all boil all fire; some good\nones be taken up in good heavens, but me dunno,--me just _hear_\nthat. Only hear so.\"\n\nIt was owing to a mere chance question that this account of the Last\nDay was obtained from an Indian. It was related to Mrs. W. Wallace\nBrown, of Calais, Maine, by Mrs. Le Cool, an old Passamaquoddy Indian.\nIt casts a great light on the myth of Glooskap, since it appears that a\nday is to come when, like Arthur, Barbarossa, and other heroes in\nretreat, he is to come forth at a new twilight of the gods, exterminate\nthe _Iglesmani_, and establish an eternal happy hunting-ground.\nThis preparing for a great final battle is more suggestive of Norse or\nScandinavian influence than of aught else. It is certainly not of a\nlate date, or Christian, but it is very much like the Edda and\nRagnarok. Heine does not observe, in the Twilight of the Gods, that\nJupiter or Mars intend to return and conquer the world. But the\nNorsemen expected such a fight, when arrows would fly like hail, and\nGlooskap is supposed to be deliberately preparing for it.\n\nA very curious point remains to be noted in this narration. When the\nIndians speak of Christian, or white, or civilized teachings, they say,\n\"I heard,\" or, \"I have been told.\" This they never do as regards their\nown ancient traditions. When Mrs. Le Cool said that she \"had heard\"\nthat some were to be taken up into _good_ heavens, she declared,\nin her way, that this was what Christians said, but that she was not so\nsure of it. The Northeastern Algonquin always distinguish very accurately\nbetween their ancient lore and that derived from the whites. I have often\nheard French fairy tales and Aesop's fables Indianized to perfection, but\nthe narrator always knew that they were not _N'Karnayoo_, \"of the\nold time.\"\n\nGlooskap is now living in a Norse-like Asa-heim; but there is to come a\nday when the arrows will be ready, and he will go forth and slay all\nthe wicked. Malsum the Wolf, his twin brother, the typical colossal\ntype of all Evil, will come to life, with all the giant cannibals,\nwitches, and wild devils slain of old; but the champion will gird on\nhis magic belt, and the arrows will fly in a rain as at Ragnarok: the\nhero will come sailing in his wonderful canoe, which expands to hold an\narmy. Thus it will be on\n\n  \"That day of wrath, that dreadful day,\n  When heaven and earth shall pass away,\"\n\nwith all things, in blood and death and fire. Then there will come the\neternal happy hunting-grounds.\n\nIf this was derived from Christian priests, it must be admitted that it\nhas changed wonderfully on the way. It is to me very heathen, grimly\narchaic, and with the strong stamp of an original. Its resemblance to\nthe Norse is striking. Either the Norsemen told it to the Eskimo and\nthe Indians, or the latter to the Norsemen. None know, after all, what\nwas going on for ages in the early time, up about Jotunheim, in the\nNorth Atlantic! Vessels came to Newfoundland to fish for cod since\nunknown antiquity, and, returning, reported that they had been to\nTartary.\n\nIt may be assumed at once that this Indian Last Battle of the Giants,\nor of the good hero giants against the Evil, led by the Malsum-Fenris\nWolf, was not derived from the Canadian French. The influence of, the\nlatter is to be found even among the Chippewas, but they never dealt in\nmyths like this.\n\nIt is very remarkable indeed that the one great principle of the Norse\nmythology is identical with that of the Indian. So long as man shall\nmake war and heroism his standard, just so long his hero god exists.\nBut there will come a day when mankind can war no more,--when higher\ncivilization must prevail. Then there will be a great final war, and\ndeath of the heroes, and death of their foes, and after all a new\nworld.\n\n  \"Then shall another come\n  yet mightier,\n  although I dare not\n  his name declare.\n\n  Few may see\n  further forth\n  than when Odin\n  meets the Wolf.\"\n  (Hyndluloid, 42.)\n\nThe Norsemen may have drawn this from a Christian source; but the\nIndian, to judge by form, spirit, and expression, would seem to have\ntaken it from the Norse.\n\n\n\n\n_How Glooskap found the Summer._\n\n\nIn the long ago time when people lived always in the early red morning,\nbefore sunrise, before the _Squid to neck_ was peopled as to-day,\nGlooskap went very far north, where all was ice.\n\nHe came to a wigwam. Therein he found a giant, a great giant, for he\nwas Winter. Glooskap entered; he sat down. Then Winter gave him a pipe;\nhe smoked, and the giant told tales of the old times.\n\nThe charm was on him; it was the Frost. The giant talked on and froze,\nand Glooskap fell asleep. He slept for six months, like a toad. Then\nthe charm fled, and he awoke. He went his way home; he went to the\nsouth, and at every step it grew warmer, and the flowers began to come\nup and talk to him.\n\nHe came to where there were many little ones dancing in the forest;\ntheir queen was Summer. I am singing the truth: it was Summer, the\ninmost beautiful one ever born. He caught her up; he kept her by a\ncrafty trick. The Master cut a moose-hide into a long cord; as he ran\naway with Summer he let the end trail behind him.\n\nThey, the fairies of Light, pulled at the cord, but as Glooskap ran,\nthe cord ran out, and though they pulled he left them far away. So he\ncame to the lodge of Winter, but now he had Summer in his bosom; and\nWinter welcomed him, for he hoped to freeze him again to sleep. I am\nsinging the song of Summer.\n\nBut this time the Master did the talking. This time his _m'teoulin_\nwas the strongest. And ere long the sweat ran down Winter's face, and\nthen he melted more and quite away, as did the wigwam. Then every thing\nawoke; the grass grew, the fairies came out, and the snow ran down the\nrivers, carrying away the dead leaves. Then Glooskap left Summer with\nthem, and went home.\n\nThis poem--for it is such--was related to Mrs. W. Wallace Brown by an\nIndian named Neptune. It appears to be the completer form of the\nbeautiful allegory of Winter and Spring given in the Hiawatha Legends\nas Peboan and Seegwum (Odjibwa). The struggle between Spring and\nWinter, Summer and Winter, or Heat and Cold, represented as incarnate\nhuman or mythic beings, forms the subject of several Indian legends, as\nit does a part of the Hymiskrida, in the Edda. The German J. B.\nFriedreich (Symbolik der Natur, Wurzburg, 1859) remarks that in the\nBible, Job xxxviii. 28, and in the Song of the Three in the Fiery\nFurnace, Ice and Snow are spoken of as intelligences.\n\nHeat and cold, in classic times, were supposed to be united, yet in\nconflict, in the lightning and hail (Virgil, Aen, VIII. 429), the symbol\nfor this being a twisted horn. In the legend of the _Culloo_ the\nfrost giantess can only be killed by a crooked horn thrust into her\near. The horn darts out at once into incredible, irregular length, and\nevidently means lightning. In the Edda the he-goat is, on account of\nhis horns, the symbol of lightning and storm. (Schwenk, Sinnbilden der\nalten Volker.) The Giala-horn of the Edda (Nyer up. Dict Scan. Mythol.)\nis the thunder which summons the Elves. \"Miolner, the hammer of Thor,\nwith which he kills frost giants, is the lightning.\" (Kirchner, Thor's\nDonnerkeil, Neu Strelitz, 1853, p. 60.) The coincidence of the symbols\nin the Edda with that of the lightning horn in the Indian legend is\nvery curious, if nothing more.\n\nThe cord which Glooskap unrolls, and with which he deceives the\nfairies, who think they have him fast, while he is escaping, means\ndelusive speech or plausible talk. To \"talk like paying out rope\" is an\nold simile.\n\n  \"Speech runes thou must know,\n  If thou wilt that no one\n  for injury with hate requite thee.\n  Those thou must wind,\n  Those thou must wrap round (thee),\n  Those thou must altogether place\n  in the assembly,\n  where people have\n  into full court to go.\"\n  (Sigrdrifumal.)\n\nThis is a merely accidental coincidence, but it illustrates the meaning\nof the myth. In both cases it is \"wound or wrapped around\" and rapidly\nunrolled, and the same simile.\n\nThe following poem on Glooskap may be appropriately placed in this\nwork. The allusion to the agates of Cape Blomidon refers to a tradition\ngiven by S. T. Rand, which states that when Glooskap would make his\nadopted grandmother young again he created the brilliant stones, which\nare still found at that place, to adorn her. [Footnote: _Youth's\nCompanion_.]\n\n  THE LEGEND OF GLOOSKAP.\n\n  Bathed in the sunshine still as of yore\n  Stretches the peaceful Acadian shore;\n  Fertile meadows and fields of grain\n  Smile as they drink the summer rain.\n\n  There like a sentinel, grim and gray,\n  Blomidon stands at the head of the bay,\n  And the famous Fundy tides, at will,\n  Sweep into Minas Basin still.\n\n  With wondrous beauty the Gaspereanx\n  Winds its way to the sea below,\n  And the old Acadian Grand Pre\n  Is the home of prosperous men to-day.\n\n  The place where Basil the blacksmith wrought,\n  In the glow of his forge, is a classic spot,\n  And every summer tourists are seen\n  In the fairy haunts of Evangeline.\n\n  But the old Acadian woods and shores,\n  Rich in beautiful legend stores,\n  Were once the home of an older race,\n  Who wore their epics with untaught grace.\n  Long ere the dikes that guard for aye\n  From the merciless tides the old Grand Pre,\n  Built by the Frenchman's tireless hands,\n  Grew round the rich Acadian lands.\n\n  The Micmac sailed in his birch canoe\n  Over the Basin, calm and blue;\n  Speared the salmon, his heart's desire,\n  Danced and slept by his wigwam fire;\n\n  Far in the depth of the forest gray\n  Hunted the moose the livelong day,\n  While the mother sang to her Micmac child\n  Songs of the forest, weird and wild.\n\n  Over the tribe, with jealous eye,\n  Watched the Great Spirit from on high,\n  While on the crest of Blomidon\n  Glooskap, the God-man, dwelt alone.\n\n  No matter how far his feet might stray\n  From the favorite haunts of his tribe away,\n  Glooskap could hear the Indian's prayer,\n  And send some message of comfort there.\n\n  Glooskap it was who taught the use\n  Of the bow and the spear, and sent the moose\n  Into the Indian banter's hands;\n  Glooskap who strewed the shining sands\n\n  Of the tide-swept beach of the stormy bay\n  With amethysts purple and agates gray,\n  And brought to each newly wedded pair\n  The Great Spirit's benediction fair.\n\n  But the white man came, and with ruthless hand\n  Cleared the forests and sowed the land,\n  And drove from their haunts by the sunny shore\n  Micmac and moose, forevermore.\n\n  And Glooskap, saddened and sore distressed,\n  Took his way to the unknown West,\n  And the Micmac kindled his wigwam fire\n  Far from the grave of his child and his sire;\n\n  Where now, as he weaves his basket gay,\n  And paddles his birch canoe away,\n  He dreams of the happy time for men\n  When Glooskap shall come to his tribe again.\n\n  ARTHUR WENTWORTH EATON.\n\n\n\n\nTHE MERRY TALES OF LOX, THE MISCHIEF MAKER,\n\nCOMMONLY KNOWN AS THE INDIAN DEVIL.\n\n_Of the Surprising and Singular Adventures of two Water Fairies who\nwere also Weasels, and how they each became the Bride of a Star.\nIncluding the Mysterious and Wonderful Works of Lox, the Great Indian\nDevil, who rose from the Dead._\n\n(Micmac and Passamaquoddy.)\n\n\n_Wee-zig-yik-keseyook_. \"Of old times.\" Far back in the forest, by\na brook, dwelt two young men, Abistanooch, the Marten, and Team, the\nMoose. Of these each had a wigwam, and therewith a grandmother who kept\nhouse. And Team hunted and worked industriously, but Master Marten was\ngreatly _moalet_ (M.), which signifies one who liveth upon his\nneighbors, depending on their good nature, even as he that planteth\ncorn and beans depends upon the pleasant smiles of the sun; whence it\ncame to pass that wherever victuals were in store there too his presence\ndid greatly abound.\n\nNow it happened that one day Team, the Moose, had killed a bear, and\nbrought home a single load of the meat, leaving the rest to be looked\nafter anon. And being thrifty, and not caring to feed those who fed him\nnot, neither did they thank, he said unto himself, and also to his\ngrandmother, \"Truly, the eyes of Marten shall not see this thing, his\nnose shall not smell thereof, neither shall his tongue taste it; so let\nnot the tidings of our good luck go forth from the wigwam.\" \"Yes,\"\nreplied the old woman, \"and well and wisely thou speakest, my son. But\nwe have this day broken our kettle, while Marten has brought in a new\none. Behold, I will go and borrow it, and having cooked in it I will\nwash and wipe it, so that there shall be no sign of what we did\ntherewith, and so return it.\"\n\nNow, this was done, but he who is _moalet_ and a haunter of feasts\nis like a hunter of beasts: he knows well from a small sign where there\nis a large load, and the borrowing of kettles means the boiling of\nvictuals therein. So having in him somewhat of sorcery, he did but step\nto his friend's wigwam, and, peeping through a crevice, saw a great\nstore of bear's meat. And when the grandmother of Moose came unto him\nto return the kettle, just as she entered the lodge there arose from it\na savory steam, and looking in it was full of well-cooked food. And\nMarten thanked her greatly, yet she, being put to shame, fled to her\nown home. But Moose said it was no matter, so the next day they went to\nthe woods together, and all was well.\n\nNow it befell Marten, as it might have befallen any other man, that one\nday he came to a distant and lonely lake in the mountains. Yet there,\nstepping softly as a cat behind the rocks bung with grapevines, he\nheard laughing and splashing, and a pleasant sound as of girls' voices.\nSo, peeping carefully, he saw many maids merrily bathing in the lake:\nand these were of the fairy race, who dwell in deep waters and dark\ncaves, and keep away from mankind. And seeing their garments lying on\nthe shore, and beholding among the damsels one whom he desired to\nobtain, [Footnote: There are many of these stories which indicate\npassionate and deeply seated attachment, but I never once heard a real\nIndian say that man or woman loved, though they have words which fully\nexpress it. \"He wanted her\" is the nearest approach to tenderness which\nI have ever heard from them. This is not the result of a want of\nfeeling, but of the suppression of all manifestation of it, to which\nevery red man is trained from earliest infancy.] Marten quietly slipped\nalong unseen, as all of his species can do, till he had the clothes in\nhis hands. For being tinctured with magic and learned in the lore of\nall kind of goblins, elves, and witches, Master Marten knew that when\nNaiads are naked and a man has their garments he holds them at his\nmercy. For in the apparel lies their fairy power; and if you doubt it,\ndo but give it a trial and see for yourself!\n\nAnd having done this, the merry fellow ran inland with a brave whoop,\nwhich the fairies hearing, they in a great rage ran after the ravisher\nof their robes. But she whom he desired outstripped the rest, and when\nshe approached him he did but tap her lightly on the head with a small\nstick, according to a certain ancient prescription followed in Fairy-land,\nwhich makes of a woman a wife; whereupon she, according to the\nantique rite, being astonished to find herself so, suddenly married,\nfainted dead away, and was carried off in peace. And as for the clothes\nof the others, the Marten gave them back without taking fee or rewards.\n\nThen Team, the Moose, who was a good soul, but not wise above all the\nworld, coming home and finding Marten married, wished also for a wife.\nAnd having heard all the tale, he said, \"Well, if it is no harder than\nthat, 'tis as easy as sucking a honeysuckle, and I am as good as\nmarried.\" And going to the pond in the mountains, among the rocks and\nbehind the grapevines, he too beheld the virgins jumping, flapping,\nsplashing, and mischieving merrily, like mad minxes, in the water;\nwhereat he, being all of a rage, as it were, caught up the clothes of\nthese, poor maids and ran; she whom he most admired catching up with\nhim. And being resolved to do the thing thoroughly, he grappled up a\ngreat club and gave her a bang on her small head, which stunned her\nindeed, and that forever, inasmuch as she was slain outright. So the\nMoose remained unmarried.\n\nNow Team was one of the kind not uncommon, in this world, who hold that\nif any other man has or gets more than they have, then they are deeply\nwronged. And it had come to pass that Master Marten, finding that his\nwife yearned greatly for the society of her sisters, offered to take\nyet another of them in marriage, merely to oblige his wife; for in such\na kind of benevolence he was one of the best souls that ever lived, and\nrather than have trouble in the family he would have wedded all the\npretty girls in the country. So going as before to the pond in the\nmountains, among the rocks and behind the grapevines, he, by the same\ndevice, captured yet another fairy, whom, taking home, he wedded.\n\nYet Team took this sadly to heart, and willed that Marten should give\nhim this last spouse, to which Marten would in nowise agree. Truly,\nTeam argued earnestly that as he had no wife, and no wisdom wherewith\nto win one, of course he must have one of Marten's, or that Marten\nshould go and get him one. To which Marten replied that Moose might\nskin his own skunks, and fish for his own minnows, and also paddle his\nown canoe to the devil, if it so pleased him,--all of these being\napproved Indian sayings of high and racy antiquity. Whereupon Team\nsought to persuade Marten with a club, who gave a soft answer by\nshooting a flint-headed arrow through Team's scalp-lock; and this\nfriendship they continued for many days, passing their evenings in\nmanufacturing missiles, and the mornings in sending them one at the\nother.\n\nNow the fairy water-wives, not being accustomed to this kind of intimacy,\nsought to subtract themselves from it. So one morning, when Marten and\nTeam were most industriously endeavoring to effect mutual murder, the\ntwo wives of the former fled afar to seek fortune, and succeeded therein\nto perfection. And it came to pass when the sun had set and the voice of\nBumole, the Spirit of Night, was heard afar on high, and Nibauchset (P.),\nthe Night-Walker, shone over all, that the two brides lay in an oak\nopening of the forest, and looked at P'ses'muk, the Stars, and talked\nabout them even as children might do. And one said to the other, \"If\nthose Stars be men, which would you have for a husband?\" \"By my faith,\"\nreplied the other,\" it should be that little red, twinkling fellow, for\nI like the little stars best.\" \"And I,\" said the other, \"will wed the\nWisawaioo P'ses'm (P.), the Great Yellow Star, for I love the large\nstars.\" And, saying this in jest, they fell asleep.\n\nBut many a word spoken in jest is recalled in earnest, as these brides\nlearned when they awoke, and found themselves married again in the\nIndian manner, at only a word. For she who had wished for the Great\nYellow Shining Star, as she opened her eyes, heard a man's voice say,\n\"Take care, or you will upset my war-paint!\" [Footnote: Sekroon (red\nochre).] And lo, there lay by her side a great and handsome man, very\nnoble, with large and lustrous eyes. [Footnote: In the Passamaquoddy\nversion of this tale, given me by Tomah Josephs, the brides awake in\nStar-Land. The husbands are both elderly men, and he who is the Yellow\nStar has bright yellow corners to his eyes, while the other has red. In\nanother the Yellow Star is called Wobeyu, the White. While they are all\ndistinctly forms of one tale, the three differ so much that I have had\ngreat difficulty in reconstituting what appears to be the Original\nlegend.] Then the other, as she awoke and stirred, heard a little feeble,\ncracked voice crying, \"Take care, or you will spill my eye-water!\"\n[Footnote: _Nebijegwode_ (eye medicine, M.)] And by her was the\nsmaller star, whom she had chosen; but he was a weak-looking old fellow,\nwith little red, twinkling eyes. And as they had chosen so it came unto\nthem.\n\nBut yellow or red, young or old, in a few days they both grew a-weary\nof the star country to which they were taken, and wished to return to\nthe earth. And then that came to pass which made them yearn with\ntenfold longing; for their husbands, who were absent all day hunting,\nhad pointed out to them a large flat stone, which they were on no\naccount to lift; which they obeyed in this wise, that they did not both\nlift the stone, but only the younger, who, as soon as the Stars had\ngone to the greenwood, rushed to the slab, and, lifting it up, gazed\ngreedily down into the hole beneath. And what she saw was wonderful,\nfor it was the sky itself, and directly under them was the world in\nwhich they had lived, and specially in sight was the home of their\nchildhood, with all its woods and rivers. And then the elder having\nlooked, both almost broke their hearts with weeping.\n\nNow the Stars were by no means such evil-minded men as you may have\ndeemed; for having perceived by magic that their wives had looked\nthrough the hole in the sky, and knowing that they were lying when\nthey denied it, they gave them leave to go back to earth. Yet there\nwere conditions, and those not easy to such fidgety damsels as these;\nfor they said, \"Ye shall lie together all this night, and in the\nmorning when ye awake ye shall be in no haste to open your eyes or\nto uncover your faces. Wait until ye shall have heard the song of the\n_Ktsee-gee-gil-laxsis_ (P.), or chick-a-dee-dee. And even then ye\nshall not arise, but be quiet until the song of the red squirrel shall\nbe heard. And even then ye must wait and keep your faces covered and\nyour eyes closed until ye hear the striped squirrel sing. And then ye\nmay leave your bed and look around.\"\n\nNow the younger wife was ever impatient, and when the chick-a-dee-dee\nsang she would have leaped up at once, but the elder restrained her.\n\"Wait,\" she said, \"my sister, until we hear the _Abalkakmooech_.\"\n[Footnote: Ground squirrel] And she lay still till the _Adoo-doo-dech_\n[Footnote: Red squirrel] began his early chatter and his morning's work.\nThen, without waiting, she jumped up, as did the elder, when they found\nthemselves indeed on earth, but in the summit of a tall, spreading\nhemlock-tree, and that in such a manner that they could not descend\nwithout assistance. And it had come to pass in this wise: for as each\nsong was sung by the bird and the squirrels, they had come nearer and\nnearer to the earth; even as the light of day drew near, but as they\ncould not delay they had been deserted. [Footnote: A want of patience\nor of dignity, and restlessness, are more scorned by every Indian than\nany other fault. This is not the only story in which people are represented\nas being punished for being unable to bide their time. Glooskap was\nspecially severe on all such sinners.]\n\nAnd as they sat there and day dawned, men of the different Indian\nfamilies went by, and unto all of these they cried for help. It is true\nthat their star husbands had made for them in the tree, a bed of moss,\nbut they cared not to rest in the hemlock, for all that. [Footnote: In\nanother very full version of this legend (M.), the water-wives are\ncalled Weasels (_Uskoolsh_), \"from their great whiteness.\" This,\nhowever, indicates supernatural fairness or beauty. In the same story\nthe tree is a pine, not a hemlock. Insignificant as these differences\nmay appear, they are of primary importance in the elucidation of a\nmyth.] And of all the beasts of the forest or men of the clearing, who\nshould be the first to appear but Team, or Master Moose, himself. And\nto him they cried, \"_N'sesenen-apkwahlin, n'sesenen_!\" \"Oh, our\nelder brother, let us free; take us down, and we will be your two dear\nlittle wives, and go home with you.\" But he, looking up scornfully,\nsaid, \"I was married this autumn.\" And so he went his way.\n\nAnd he who next came was the shaggy Bear, or _mooin_, to whom they\nmade the same request, offering themselves for no higher price than to\nbe taken down safely out of their nest. But he growled out that he had\nbeen married in the spring, and that one wife was enough for any man.\nSo he went his way. [Footnote: N. B.--There is a joke here. The animals\nwho pass by the tree each mate at the season of the year when they\ndeclare that they were married. The White Ladies, weasels or ermines,\ntherefore, came at the wrong time. The fickle, variable nature ascribed\nto woman, _varium et mutabile semper femina_, is supposed to be\nmost decidedly expressed by such slender, slippery, active little\nanimals.]\n\nAnd then who should come along but Marten himself, even the\nAbistanooch, whom they had deserted! And they cried out for joy,\nbegging him to take them back. But he, behaving as if they were utter\nstrangers, replied that he had been married in the early spring to one\nof his own tribe, and unto a damsel whose name was Marten, and that it\nwas not seemly for animals to wed out of their own land. So he\nscampered off, leaving the little Weasels all alone.\n\nAnd last of all came Lox, whom hunters call the Indian Devil,\n[Footnote: In the Micmac it is the Badger, Keekwajoo, who is the rogue\nand teaser of the tale. But in the Passamaquoddy versions it is the\ndreaded and mysterious Lox, who appears to be a species of Lynx or\nWolverine. The Lox is said, by trustworthy white travelers as well as\nIndians, to follow hunting parties for weeks, inspired apparently only\nby an incredible mania for mischief, much like that of a monkey or a\nrevengeful savage, but guided by remarkable intelligence. He will find\nhis way into a camp and destroy every object made by the hand of man\nwith a thoroughness akin to genius, and what he cannot destroy he will\ncarry to a great distance and carefully conceal. As his ferocity is\nequal to his craftiness, he is very appropriately termed the Indian\nDevil.] and others the Wolverine, who is exceeding subtle above the\nbeasts of the forest, and who is gifted with more evil mischief than\nall of them in one. And when the Weasels called to him for help he\ntarried, for it came into his heart that he might in some way torment\nand tease them. But verily he had to deal with those who were not much\nmore virtuous than himself, and quite as cunning, for what with\ntraveling from the earth to the heavens and changing husbands, these\nfair minevers were learning wisdom rapidly. So the elder sister, who\nhad not the least idea of keeping her promise unless it suited her\nfancy, played a trick, and that quickly anon. For she at once took off\nher hair-string [Footnote: The Hair-String, _Saggalobee_ (M),\noccurs very often in Indian legends, generally as gifted with magic.\nThe Indian women allowed their hair to grow long, then doubled it upon\nthe back of the head, often making additions of something to enlarge\nthe roll. It was then bound in a bunch with the string.] and tied it\ninto a few less than a hundred knots among the twigs of the trees,\ntangling it so that you would have deemed it a week's work before a man\ncould loosen it again without injury.\n\nNow Master Lox, having taken down the younger sister with all the\npoliteness in the world, came for the other, and aided her also to\ndescend. And when on the ground she indeed said, \"_Willcr-oon_\" \"I\nthank you\" (P.), but begged him to go up the tree again and bring down\na great treasure which she had left there, her hair-string: beseeching\nhim for all their lives not to break or injure it in any way, but to\nmost carefully untie every knot, for thus doing it would bring untold\nfelicity on them all; and that they, the Weasels, would meantime build\na beautiful bridal bower, or a wigwam, and that so furnished as he had\nnever seen the like before,--in which verily they kept their word.\n\nFor they speedily built the wigwam, but the furniture thereof was of\nthis rare kind. The Weasels had, it seems, certain sworn friends,--for\nbirds of a feather flock together,--and these were not far to seek, as\nthey were the Thorns, Burrs, and Briers of all kinds, Hornets and other\nwinged and stinged insects, besides the Ants. And they were, moreover,\nintimate with all the sharp-edged Flints in the land, which was a\ngoodly company. So when the bower was built it had therein a hornet's\nnest for a bridal bed, thorns for a carpet, flints for a floor, and an\nant's nest for a seat, which for a bare-footed and bare-breeched Indian\nis indeed a sore essay. Now it had taken Master Lox the entire day to\nuntie the hair-string, so when he came down it was dark, and he was\nglad when he saw the hut and thought of resting therein.\n\nBut, as he entered, he ran among the Thorns, which pierced his nose,\nand Flints, which cut his feet, so that he roared aloud. Then he heard\na voice, which seemed to be that of the younger Miss Weasel, crying\n\"_Names-cole_\" (M.), \"Go to my sister, yonder!\" So he went, and trod\nin an ant-hill, and this was worse than the Briers. And then he heard\nanother voice on that side which cried, laughing, \"_N'kwech-kale_!\"\n(M.), \"Go to my sister, who is younger than I.\" And plunging furiously\nthrough the darkness, he fell on the hornet's nest; and verily the last\nstate of that Indian was worst of all. Thus, seeing himself mocked, he\nbecame furious; so that he who has by nature the very worst temper of\nall beasts or men was never so angry before, and, seeking the tracks of\nthe Weasels, he pursued them as they fled in the night and through the\nthick forest.\n\nNow it came to pass that by daybreak the two girls, even the Misses\nWeasel, had come to a broad river which they could not cross. But\nIn The edge of the water stood a large Crane, motionless, or the\n_Tum-gwo-lig-unach_, who was the ferryman. Now truly this is\nesteemed to be the least beautiful of all the birds, for which cause\nhe is greedy of good words and fondest of flattery. And of all beings\nthere were none who had more bear's oil ready to anoint every one's hair\nwith--that is to say, more compliments ready for everybody--than the\nWeasels. So, seeing the Crane, they sang:--\n\n  \"Wa wela quis kip pat kasqu',\n  Wa wela quis kip pat kasqu'.\" (P.)\n\n  The Crane has a very beautiful long neck,\n  The Crane has a very beautiful long neck.\n\nThis charmed the old ferryman very much, and when they said, \"Please,\ngrandfather, hurry along,\" he came quickly. Seeing this, they began to\nchant in chorus, sweetly as the Seven Stars themselves:--\n\n  \"Wa wela quig nat kasqu',\n  Wa wela quig nat kasqu'.\" (P.)\n\n  The Crane has very beautiful long legs,\n  The Crane has very beautiful long legs.\n\nHearing this, the good Crane wanted more; so when they asked him to\ngive them a lift across, he answered slowly that to do so he must be\nwell paid, but that good praise would answer as well. Now they who had\nabundance of this and to spare for everybody were these very girls.\n\"Have I not a beautiful form?\" he inquired; and they both cried aloud,\n\"Oh, uncle, it is indeed beautiful!\" \"And my feathers?\" \"Ah,\n_pegeakopchu_\" (M.), \"Beautiful and straight feathers indeed!\"\n\"And have I not a charming long, straight neck?\" \"Truly our uncle has\nit straight and long.\" \"And will ye not acknowledge, oh, maidens, that\nmy legs are fine?\" \"Fine! oh, uncle, they are perfection. Never in this\nlife did we see such legs!\" So being well pleased, the Crane put them\nacross, and then the two little Weasels scampered like mice into the\nbush.\n\nAnd scarcely were they concealed, or the Crane well again in his place,\nere Master Lox appeared. And being in no good temper he called to Uncle\nCrane to set him across, and that speedily. Now the Crane had been made\nmightily pleased and proud by the winsome words of the Weasels, and was\nbut little inclined to be rudely addressed. So he said to Lox, \"I will\nbear thee over the river if thou wilt bear witness to my beauty. Are\nnot my legs straight?\" \"Yea\" replied the Lox, \"and beautifully painted,\ntoo.\" Now the color thereof was little pleasing to poor Uncle Crane.\n\"Are not my feathers very smooth and fine?\" \"Yea, smooth and fine; what\na pity, though, that they are mildewed and dusty!\" \"And my straight\nneck?\" \"Yes, wonderfully straight,--straight as _this_\" said Lox\nto himself, taking up a crooked stick. And then he sang:--\n\n  \"Mecha guiskipat kasqu',\n  Mecha quig nat kasqu'.\"\n\n  The Crane has a very ugly neck,\n  The Crane has dirty, ugly legs.\n\n\"Come, _mooso me_ (grandfather), hurry up!\"\n\n  Oh, the Crane has a very ugly neck,\n  The Crane has dirty, ugly legs.\n\n\"I wish you to be quick, _mooso me_. Hurry up, I say!\" [Footnote:\nThis dialogue, including the songs, is from a very curious\nPassamaquoddy version of the tale, sent to me by Louis Mitchell. As in\nall such cases, there is far more humor in the Passamaquoddy narratives\nthan in the Micmac or Eskimo.]\n\nAnd all of this ill-temper and insincerity was deeply and inwardly\ndetected by Uncle Crane, but he said not a word, and only meekly bent\nhim down to take the traveler on his back. But when in the stream, and\nwhere it was deepest and most dangerous, he gave himself a shake, and\nin another instant Lox was whirling round and round like a chip in the\nrapids. And yet a little time he was dashed against the rocks, and then\nanon was thrown high and dry on the shore, but dead as a seven-year-old\ncedar cone.\n\nNow the Lox is a great magician at certain times and seasons, albeit\nhis power fails at others. [Footnote: From this point of the legend\nonward there is an inextricable confusion as regards the four different\nversions. While the hero is decidedly a Badger in the Micmac, I regard\nthe great ferocity, craft, and above all the vitality which he displays\nas far more characteristic of the Lox or Wolverine of the Passamaquoddy.\nWhat is almost decisively in favor of the latter theory is that in all\nthe stories, despite his craft and power, he is always getting himself\ninto trouble through them. This is eminently characteristic of the Lox,\nmuch less so of the Badger.] And he is one of those who rise from the\ndead. Now it came to pass that some days after two boys of the Kwedech\nor Mohawk race found the Lox lying dead on a rock in the sunshine, and\nthe worms were crawling from him. But when they touched him he arose as\nif from sleep, and stood before them as a proud and fierce warrior. But\nhe was scarce alive ere he sought to do them who had roused him to life\na mischief; for having noted that they had fine bows, he got them into\nhis hands, and broke them, yet all as if he meant it not. [Footnote: In\nthe Passamaquoddy version of this tale, when Lox is thus dismembered,\nthe ants, pitying him, bring his scattered members together. As soon as\nhe recovers, the Wolverine, with characteristic ingratitude, amuses\nhimself by trampling his benefactors to death beneath his feet.] And\nthen by magic making a sound as of many children at play, afar off\nacross the next point of land by the river, he bade them run and join\nthe pleasant games. And when he had got them a space onward, lo, the\nsound seemed ever farther on, mingled with the murmur of the stream;\nand so they went without him, seeking it, and yet it wandered ever\nfar away.\n\nNow he had learned from the boys that they were of a _Cullo_\nfamily; and the Culloos are certain monstrous birds, exceeding fierce.\nBut Master Lox, having seen in the cabin plenty of fine meat, desired\ngreatly to become one of the family, and having been much about in life\nknew something of the ways of every one. So putting on the Culloo\nstyle, he, seeing a babe, began to sing with the most natural air in\nthe world a Culloo nursery-song:--\n\n  \"Agoo ge abeol,\n  Wetkusanabeol.\"\n  [Footnote: Micmac.]\n\n  A seal-skin strap,\n  A shoulder-strap.\n\nNow it costs very little to fall into the humor of a man; but this the\nwoman would not do, and told him plainly that he could not deceive her.\nOn hearing which Master Lox, in a great rage, seized his tomahawk and\nslew her. Then seeing a kettle boiling on the fire, he cut off her head\nand put it into the pot, hiding the body. And this was a merry jest\nafter his own heart, so that it greatly solaced him. But after a time,\nthe two boys, returning, missed their mother, and looking into the\nkettle, found her head. Then they knew well who had done this. And,\nbeing fearless, they pursued him, but having no bows they could do him\nno harm; however, they took from him his gloves, and with these they\nreturned.\n\nAnd anon there came also an uncle of the boys, or _Kah-kah-goos_\n(P.), the Crow. So he gave chase to Lox, yet all that he could do was\nto snatch away his cap as he ran. Yet without shame he cried aloud,\n\"Well, my head was getting warm, and now I am cooler. Thank you!\"\n\n[Illustration: LOX CARRIED OFF BY CULLOO]\n\nThen came another relative, _Kitpoo_, the Eagle (M.). And he,\npursuing Lox, took from him his coat. Yet all unabashed he replied,\n\"Thanks unto you also; for I was just wishing that my younger brother\nwere here to carry my coat for me.\" But he who now arrived, hearing of\nthe deadly deed, was the great Culloo himself, the most terrible of all\ncreated creatures, and he, pursuing Lox, caught him up, and carrying\nhim in his claws, even to the summit of the sky itself, let him drop,\nand he was a whole day in falling; even from the first dawn unto sunset\nhe went down ere he touched the earth. But before he was let drop, and\nwhen on high, he burst into a mocking song on what he saw, and the\nwords were as follows:--\n\n  \"Kumut kenovek,\n  Telap tumun ek,\n  Stugach' kesenagasikel,\n    Yog wa egen'\n    Yog wa egeno\n  Telap tumen ek\n  Kumut ken ooik'\n  Stuga 'mkudomoos koon.\"\n\n  Our country all lost\n  Seems clearly to us\n  As though it were all spread with boughs.\n    Heigh ho, hay hum!\n    Heigh ho, hay hum!\n  Our country now lost\n  Seems now unto us\n  To be blue like the clear blue sky.\n    Hum, hum--tol de rol!\n\nAnd when let fall, this graceless jackanapes in nowise ceased his\nribaldry; for while pretending to flap with his arms as if they were\nwings, he imitated with his mouth, mockingly, the _wish! wish!_ of\nthe wide wings of the Culloo. Yet ere he touched the earth he uttered\none little magic spell, \"Oh, spare my poor backbone!\" And with that all\nthe trouble of all the birds went for nothing. Truly he was mashed to a\nbatter, and his blood and brains flew in every direction, like\nraspberry pudding; but among the remains his backbone lay whole, and\nthis was his life.\n\nAnd in a few days after his younger brother came by, who, seeing the\ndire mess, exclaimed, \"Hey, what is all this?\" [Footnote: The dead body\nof a sorcerer must lie until addressed by some human being. Then it\nrevives. This is suggestive of vampirism, which is well known to the\nIndians. There is something strangely ghastly in the idea of the Voice\ncalling separately to each dead limb to come to it. The Culloo is an\nemblem of the cloud, and Lox let fall from one probably signified fire,\nor the lightning.] Whereupon a Voice came from the bone, crying,\n\"_Nuloogoon, ba ho_!\" \"Ho, my leg, come hither!\" and a leg came\nunto the spine. Then the Voice cried,\" _N'petunagum, ba ho_!\" \"Ho, my\narm, come hither!\" And when the last fragment had come he arose, the\nsame indomitable Lox as ever, even the Indian Devil, or Wolverine, who\nnever says Die, and whom nothing can kill, and who is hard to put away.\n\nNow the two brothers went on till they came to the top of a high\nmountain, where there lay a very great round rock, or a mighty boulder.\nAnd being full of fun, they turned it over with great sticks, saying to\nit, \"Now let us run a race!\" Then it rolled downhill till it stopped at\nthe foot, they rushing along by it all the time. And when it rested\nthey jeered it, and bade it race with them again, when it so listed.\n\nAnd truly they had not long to wait, for soon after, as they sat\ncooking their food, they heard a mighty commotion as of something\ncoming with dreadful speed through the forest. And lo! it was the stone\nin dire wrath, which, having rested a little while, came rushing\nthrough the forest, crashing the mighty trees like grass, with a roar\nlike thunder, leaving a smooth road behind it in the roughest\nwilderness. Up and after the sorcerers flew the stone, and the younger\nslipped aside like a snake, but the elder had scarcely time to utter\nhis magic charm, \"_Noo-goon ooskudeskuch_!\" \"Let my backbone\nremain uninjured!\" ere the awful rock rolled down upon him, crushing\nhis bones and mashing his flesh. Yet the spine was unhurt; it remained\nsound as ever.\n\nAnd the stone went on and ever on, till the sound of its roar died away\nin the breeze and afar in the wilderness.\n\nThen the younger brother turned to the Backbone and said, \"_Cagooee\nwejismook' tumun_?\" (M.) \"Why are you lying there?\" And hearing this\ncharm the Bone called aloud, \"_Ntenin ba ho_!\" \"My body, ho!\" and\n\"_Nuloogoon ba ho_!\" \"My leg, ho!\" and so with the rest of the\nmembers as before, until he that was decomposed was now recomposed;\nyes, and composed perfectly. And then he that was dead, but was now\nalive, arose, and said as one awaking, \"What have I been doing?\" So his\nbrother told him all.\n\nThen he was greatly angered, and when the Wolverine is angry it is not\na little. And he said in his wrath, \"Shall I that am the devil of the\nwoods himself be slain by birds and stones, and not be revenged?\" So\nthey went onwards through the woods till they found the Great Rock:\nthey followed in the path of the broken trees; even by the trees did\nthey track it. Which having found, they built a fire around it; with\ngreat stones for hammers they broke it, and ever more and still\nsmaller, till it was all mere dust, for their souls were sore for\nrevenge.\n\nWhen lo, a great wonder! For the Spirit of the Old Rock, even that\nwhich was itself, turned all the dust to black flies, into the stinging\nand evil things which drive men and beasts mad, so that its hatred and\nspite might be carried out on all living creatures unto the end of\ntime.\n\nAnd having had their ill-will of the Rock and seen it become Flies, the\ntwo went through the forest, and so on till they came to a village of\ngood, honest folk; and knowing what manner of men they were, Lox\nresolved to forthwith play them an evil trick, for in all life there\nwas nothing half so dear to him as to make mischief, the worse the\nbetter.\n\nAnd this time it came into his head that it would be a fine piece of\nwit to go into the town as a gay girl and get married, and see what\nwould come of it, trusting to luck to fashion a sad fool out of\nsomebody. So having made himself into a delicate young beauty, richly\nattired, he entered the place; and truly the town was soon agog over\nthe new guests. And the young chief of the tribe, wanting her, won her\nwithout waste of time. Truly there lieth herein some mystery. I know\nnot what, only this I know: that there are in all towns certain folk\nwho, by means of magic or meddling, always find out everything about\neverybody, and then tittle-tattle thereof. Now, albeit Lox had utterly\nabjured all the sinfulness of manhood, and had made a new departure in\nan utterly new direction, saying not a word thereof to any one, yet in\na brief measure of time, one here, another there, Jack in a corner and\nJane by the bush, began to whisper of a strange thing, and hint that\nall was not as it should be, and, whatever the chief might think, that\nin their minds matters were going wrong in his wigwam.\n\nNow Lox, knowing all this thread as soon as it was spun, began to think\nit high time to show his hand in the game. And what was the amazement\nof all the town to hear, one fine evening, that the chief's wife would\nsoon be a mother. And when the time came Dame Lox informed her husband\nthat, according to the custom of her people, she must be left utterly\nalone till he was a father and the babe born. And when in due time the\ncry of a small child was heard in the lodge the women waiting ran in,\nand received from the mother the little one, abundantly rolled in many\nwrappers, which they took to the chief. But what was his amazement,\nwhen having unrolled the package, he found under one skin after\nanother, tied up hard, yet another sewed up, and yet again, as the\ninmost kernel of this nut, the little withered, wizened, dead, and\ndried shrivelment of an unborn moose calf. Which pleased the chief so\nmuch that, dashing Master Moose into the fire, he seized his tomahawk\nand ran to his lodge to make his first morning call on the mother.\n\nBut Master Lox was now a man again, and expecting this call, and not\nwishing to see visitors, had with his brother fled to the woods, and\nthat rapidly. And in the rush he came to a river, and, seeing a very\nhigh waterfall, thought of a rare device whereby he might elude\npursuit. For he with his brother soon built a dam across the top with\ntrees and earth, so that but little water went below. And lying in a\ncave, concealed with care, he imitated the _boo-oo-oo_ of a\nfalling stream with quaint and wondrous skill. And there he lay, and no\nman wist thereof.\n\nBut verily the wicked one is caught in his own snare, and even so it\nbefell Master Lox. For as he hid, the water above, having gathered to a\ngreat lake, burst the dam, so that it all came down upon him at once\nand drowned him; nor was there any great weeping for him that ever I\nheard of. So here he passes out of this story, and does not come into\nit again. But whether he went for good and all out of this life is\ndoubtful, since I find him living again in so many rare, strange\nhistories that it has become a proverb that Lox never dies.\n\nNow the tale returns to the two little Weasels, or Ermines, or\nWater-Maids, poor souls, who had such a hard life! And it happened\nthat, fleeing from Master Lox, they came at evening to a deserted\nvillage, and entered a wigwam to pass the night. But the elder, being\nthe wiser, and somewhat of a witch in the bud, mistrusted the place,\ndeeming it not so empty as it seemed. And beholding by the door, lying\non the ground, the Neckbone of a man or some other animal, she warned\nher sister that she should in nowise offend it or treat it lightly, to\nwhich the younger replied by giving it a kick which sent it flying, and\nby otherwise treating it with scorn and disdain.\n\nThen they laid them down to sleep; but before their slumber came they\nheard a doleful, bitter voice chanting aloud and shouting, and it was\n_Chamach keg wech_, or the Neckbone, bewailing the scorn that had\nbeen put upon him, and reviling them with all manner of curses. Then\nthe elder said, \"There, truly, I said it. I knew you would be our death\nif you did not mind me:\" it being in all cases an esteemed solace for\nevery woman and most men to say, \"I told you so!\" But the younger,\nbeing well-nigh frightened to a corpse, in a soft whisper implored the\nelder to let her hide herself in her roll of hair, [Footnote: That is,\nthe elder should retain the human form, and the younger become a\nweasel.] which the Voice, mocking her, repeated; adding thereto all the\nreviling and railing that Mitche-hant, the devil, himself ever yet\ninvented, and abusing her so for her past life, and exhorting her so\nfor all the sins, slips, and slaps therein (of which there were many),\nthat even the impenitent little Weasel repented and wept bitterly.\nHowbeit no further harm came to them beyond this, so that the next\nmorning they went their way in peace; and I warrant you Master Neckbone\ngot no kicks that day from them, departing. [Footnote: This incident of\nthe Neckbone is very much like the common nursery tale of Teeny Tiny,\nin which an old woman takes home a human bone and puts it in the\ncupboard. It torments her all night by its cries.]\n\nThen, coming to a river, they saw on the other side a handsome young\nman holding a bow, and to him they called, making their usual offer to\nbecome his wives, and all for no greater thing than to carry them over\nthe ferry. And this man's name was See-witch, [Footnote: A kind of\nsmall sea-duck.] and to please them he did indeed pass them over in his\ncanoe; but as for taking them home, he said that he had housekeepers in\nstore, and as many as he needed just then, and that of a kind who kept\nhim very busy. So they went their way onwards.\n\nAnd coming anon to the great sea, they beheld yet another canoe with\ntwo men therein, and these were Kwe-moo, the Loon, and Mahgwis, the\nScapegrace. And embarking with them, Loon soon began to admire the\ngirls greatly. And saying many sweet things, he told them that he dwelt\nin the Wigem territory, or in the land of the Owealkesk, [Footnote: A\nvery beautiful species of sea-duck.] of which he himself was one. But\nthe Mahgwis whispered to them aside that they should put little trust\nin what he told them, for Loon was a great liar. Now when they came to\nthe land of the Owealkesk, they were amazed at the beauty of the\npeople, and saw that all in that land was lovely, nor did they\nthemselves seem less marvelously fair to the men therein. Indeed, the\npoor little Weasels began to see the end of their sorrows, for, being\nwater-fairies, these sea-birds were nigh akin to them. And there was a\ngreat feast, a great dance, and great games held in honor of their\narrival, and the two finest young Sea-Duck men, utterly unheeding the\nold Loon, who believed indeed that they were his own wives, carried\nthem off, and nothing loath wedded them.\n\nAnd it was in this wise. There was a canoe-race, and Kwee-moo, being\nbitterly angry that he was held of so little account in the Sea-Duck\nland, went forth with the rest, and, paddling far outside, upset his\ncanoe, and making as if he were drowning called to the Weasels to come\nand save him. But the Sea-Ducks laughed, and said, \"Let him alone.\nTruly he will never drown. We know him.\" And the race ended they went\nashore in peace. [Footnote: Here the Micmac narrative ends. The rest is\nas it was given to me by Noel Josephs, or _Chi gatch gok_, the\nRaven, a Passamaquoddy. It would not be a complete Indian tale if a man\nhaving received a slight or injury did not take a bloody revenge for\nit.]\n\nAnd that night they danced late, and the Weasels, being better pleased\nwith the two handsome Sea-Ducks than with Loon, forthwith divorced\nthemselves out of hand, and at once married them, going to where their\ncanoe lay, to pass the bridal night. Now Loon had not gone to the\ndance, but sat at home nursing his vengeance till he was well-nigh mad.\nAnd as the Weasels did not return, he went forth and sought them; and\nthis he did so carefully that at last he found all four by the sea,\nsound asleep. Whereupon he, with his knife, slew the young men, and\nbeing in great fear of their friends took his canoe and went down the\nriver to kill a deer. But not daring to return, and being mad for loss\nof the Weasels, and fearing to fall into the hands of the enemy, he in\ndespair took his knife and killed himself.\n\nYet the Weasels, who had seen the deed done, did not betray him, for\nthere was at least so much truth left in them. And they lived with the\nSea-Ducks, and I doubt me not went on marrying and mischief-making\nafter their wont even unto the end of their days. And their kind are\nnot dead as yet in any land.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nThis is a fair specimen of many Indian legends. So much of it as is\nMicmac was told to Mr. Rand by a highly intelligent Indian, named\nBenjamin Brooks, who was certain that the story was of great antiquity.\nAs I at first heard it, it was limited to the adventure with the Stars,\nbut I was told that this formed only a part of an extremely long\nnarrative. It consists, in fact, of different parts of other tales\nconnected, and I doubt not that there is much more of it. It cannot\nescape the reader versed in fairy-lore that the incident of the\nwater-maiden captured by her clothes is common to all European nations,\nbut that it is especially Norse; while the adventures of the Wolverine,\nand indeed his whole character, are strangely suggestive of Loki, the\nSpirit of mere Mischief, who becomes evil. The fact that both Loki and\nLox end their earthly career at a waterfall is very curious. The two\nalso become, in wizard fashion, women at will. But it is chiefly in the\nextreme and wanton devilishness of their tricks that they are alike.\nMany other resemblances will suggest themselves to those who know the\nEddas.\n\nIn the Passamaquoddy version of this tale, it is Seewitch, and not the\nLoon, who plays the part of the jealous husband at the end. The career\nof the Weasels _seems_ to set forth the adventures of a couple of\nIndian Becky Sharps, very much in the spirit of an Indian Thackeray.\nThe immorality of these damsels, the sponging of Marten, the deviltry\nof Lox, the servile follies and ferocious vindictiveness of the Loon,\nall seem to impress the composer of the tale as so many bubbles rising\nand falling on the sea of life, only remarkable for the sun-gleam of\nhumor which they reflect. Outside these tales I know of nothing which\nso resembles the inner spirit of Aristophanes, Rabelais, and\nShakespeare. I do not say that the genius of these great masters is in\nthem, but their manner of seeing humor and wickedness combined. The\ncause of this lies in the cultivated stoicism with which every Indian\ntrains himself to regard life. The inevitable result of such culture is\nalways in some way a kind of humor, either grim or gay.\n\nA re-perusal of the Eddas has impressed me with the remarkable\nresemblance of Lox, the Wolverine, to Loki. The story begins with the\nincident of a bird maiden caught by a trick, and married. This is\ndistinctly Scandinavian. It is known in all lands, but the Norse made\nthe most of it. Then the two girls sit and choose the kind of stars\nthey will have. In the Eskimo (Rink, No. 8), two girls sitting on a\nbeach, talking in the same way, seeing eagles' and whales' bones by\nthem, declare that they would like to marry, the one an eagle, the\nother a whale, and both get their wishes. In the Norse legends stars\nare like human beings. Lox is pursued by a giant bird; Loki is chased\nby Thiassi, the giant, in eagle plumage. Again, in the Edda a giant\neagle drags and trails Loki over woods and mountains, till he screams\nfor pity. The Wolverine's race with a stone giant also recalls this\nrace, the eagle being really one of the Jotuns, who were also all\nmountains and rocks. The Wolverine wizard becomes a girl, merely to\nmake mischief. Loki took the form of a woman in Fensal, where he\nschemed to kill Balder. This is certainly a strange coincidence; for as\nin the Edda, Loki's becoming a woman led to all the subsequent tragedy\nand to his own doom, so in the Indian tale the very same thing caused\nthe Wolverine to be chased to the high waterfall, where, owing to his\nown tricks, he perished, just as Loki came to grief in Franangursfors,\nthe bright and glistening cataract. But the most remarkable point is\nthat the general immoral character of the Lox, [Footnote: The\ncoincidence of name amounts to nothing, as Lox is not, I believe, an\nIndian word.] or Wolverine, is so much like that of Loki, consisting of\nevil or mischief of the worst kind, always tempered by humor, which\nprovokes a laugh. Now to find a similar and very singular character\nsupported by several coincidences of incident is, if nothing more, at\nleast very remarkable.\n\nLoki is fire, and Lox, when killed in another tale, is revived by heat.\nHe is carried off by the Culloo, or cloud, and let fall, typifying fire\nor lightning coming from a cloud. Again, in another story he dies for\nwant of fire. And he twice dies by drowning; that is, the fire is\nquenched by water.\n\nIn one of the Passamaquoddy versions of this tale, which is, though\nless detailed, far superior in humor to the Micmac, the Loon is cheated\nby his two nephews, the _Assoops_, a species of loon, who steal\nthe Weasels from him. He revenges himself, not by murdering, but by\nmerely frightening them. He fills a bladder with blood, puts it under\nhis shirt, and then stabs himself. They, thinking he is killed, lament,\nwhen he grandly comes to life, and is regarded as a great magician.\n\n\n\n\n_Of the Wolverine and the Wolves, or how Master Lox Froze to\nDeath._\n\n(Passamaquoddy.)\n\n\nOf old times it came to pass that Master Lox, the Wolverine, or Indian\nDevil, he who was slain many times and as often rose from the dead, found\nhimself deeply down in luck; for he was crossing a wide and dismal heath\nin winter-time, being but poorly provided in any way for travel. The wind\nblew like knives; the snow fell; sleet, frost, hail, and rain seemed to\ncome all together in bad company, and still Lox was not happy, although\nhe had no blanket or fur coat beyond his own. Yet this evil-minded jolly\ncompanion with every vice had one virtue, and that was that of all the\nbeasts of the forest or devils in _P'lamkik'_ he was the hardest\nhearted, toughest, and most unconquerable, being ever the first to fight\nand the last to give in, which even then he did not, never having done\nit and never intending to; whence it happened that he was greatly admired\nand made much of by all the blackguardly beasts of the backwoods,--wherein\nthey differed but little from many among men.\n\nNow as of all rowdies and rascals the wolves are the worst, we may well\nbelieve that it was with great joy Lox heard, as the darkness was\ncoming on, a long, sad howl, far away, betokening the coming of a pack\nof these pleasant people; to which he raised his own voice in the wolf\ntongue,--for he was learned in many languages,--and soon was surrounded\nby some fifteen or sixteen lupine land loafers, who danced, rolling\nover, barking and biting one another, all for very joy at meeting with\nhim. And the elder, he who was captain, or the sogmo, [Footnote:\n_Sogmo_, sagamore, a chief; the word corrupted into sachem.] said,\n\"Peradventure thou wilt encamp with us this night, for it is ill for a\ngentleman to be alone, where he might encounter vulgar fellows.\" And\nLox thanked him as if he were doing him a favor, and accepted the best\nof their dried meat, and took the highest place by their fire, and\nsmoked the chief's choicest _tomawe_ out of his best pipe, and all\nthat with such vast condescension that the wolves grinned with delight.\n\nAnd when they laid them down to sleep he that was the eldest, or the\nsogmo, bade the younger cover their guest Lox over very carefully. Now\nthe tail of the wolf has broad-spreading, shaggy hair, and Lox, being\nsleepy, really thought it was a fur blanket that they spread, and\nthough the night was cold enough to crack the rocks he threw the\ncovering off; twice he did this, and the chief who looked after him,\nwith all the rest, admired him greatly because he cared so little for\nthe cold or for their care.\n\nAnd having eaten after they arose, when in the morning they would wend\naway, the Wolf Chief said unto Lox, \"Uncle, thou hast yet three days'\nhard travel before thee in a land where there is neither home, house,\nnor hearth, and it will be ill camping without a fire. Now I have a\nmost approved and excellent charm, or spell, by which I can give thee\nthree fires, but no more; yet will they suffice, one for each night,\nuntil thou gettest to thy journey's end. And this is the manner thereof:\nthat thou shalt take unto thee dry wood, even such as men commonly burn,\nand thou shalt put them together, even as boys build little wigwams for\nsport, and then thou shalt jump over it. And truly, uncle, this is an\napproved and excellent charm of ripe antiquity, kept as a solemn secret\namong the wolves, and thou art the first not of our holy nation to whom\nit hath been given.\" So they parted.\n\nNow Lox trudged on, and as he went westwards kept thinking of this\ngreat secret of the pious and peculiar people, and wondering if it were\neven as the Wolf said, or only a deceit; for however kindly he was\ntreated by people, he always suspected that they mocked him to scorn,\nor were preparing to do so; for as he ever did this thing himself to\nevery condition of mankind or beasts, he constantly awaited to have it\ndone to him. And being curious withal, and anxious to see some new\nthing, he had not walked half an hour ere he said, \"Tush! let me try\nit. Yea, and I will!\" So building up the sticks, he jumped over them,\nand at once they caught fire and blazed up, and it came to pass even as\nthe Wolf had prophesied.\n\nNow having solaced himself by the heat, Lox went on. And anon it grew\ncold again, and he began to think how pleasant it was to be warm; and\nbeing, like most evil people, wanting in a corner of wisdom, he at once\nput the sticks together again and jumped over them, and as before there\nrose a blaze, and he was happy. And this was the second fire, and he\nhad still three cold nights before him before he could reach his home.\n\nAnd yet this Wolverine, who was so wise in all wickedness and witty in\nevil-doing, had not walked into the afternoon before he began to think\nof the third fire. \"Truly,\" he said to himself, \"who knows but the\nweather may take a turn to a thaw, and give us a warm night? Hum! ha!\nmethinks by the look of the clouds the wind will soon be southwesterly.\nHave I not heard my grandmother say that such a color, even the red,\nmeant something?--I forget what, but it might be a warm change. Luck be\non me, I will risk the odds.\" And, saying this, he set up the sticks\nagain; and this was the last fire, though it was not even the first\nnight.\n\nAnd when he came after dark to the first camping place it grew cold in\nearnest. Howbeit Lox, thinking that what was good for once must be good\nforever, made him his little pile of sticks and jumped over them. It\nwas of no avail. Finally, when he had jumped twenty or thirty times\nmore, there arose a little smoke, and, having his heart cheered by\nthis, he kept on jumping. Now it is said that there can be no smoke\nwithout fire, but this time it went not beyond smoke. Then Lox jumped\nagain, and this time the Indian Devil came up within him, and he swore\nby it that he would jump till it blazed or burst. So he kept on, and\nyet there came no comfort, not even a spark; and being at last aweary\nhe fell down in a swoon, and so froze to death. And so the Devil was\ndead, and that was the last of him for that turn; but I think he got\nover it, for he has been seen many a time since.\n\nIn two stories Lox (once as the _loup cervier_) is intimate with\nthe wolves. Loki was the father of the wolves. Loki is fire: here Lox\ndies for want of fire. Since I wrote the foregoing, Mrs. W. Wallace\nBrown has learned that Lox is definitely the king or chief of the\nwolves, and that many Indians deny that he is really an animal at all,\nthough he assumes the forms of certain animals. He is a spirit, and the\nMischief Maker. It will be admitted that this brings the Lox much\nnearer to Loki.\n\nIt is said that when Glooskap left the world, as he took away with him\nthe kings of all the animals, Lox went with him as king of the Wolves.\nThis is an identification of him with Malsum, the Wolf, himself.\n\n\n\n\n_How Master Lox played a Trick on Mrs. Bear, who lost her eyesight\nand had her eyes opened._\n\n(Micmac.)\n\n\nDon't live with mean people if you can help it. They will turn your\ngreatest sorrow to their own account if they can. Bad habit gets to be\ndevilish second nature. One dead herring is not much, but one by one\nyou may make such a heap of them as to stink out a whole village.\n\nAs it happened to old Mrs. Bear, who was easy as regarded people,\nAnd thought well of everybody, and trusted all. So she took in for\nA house-mate another old woman. Their wigwam was all by itself, and\nthe next neighbor was so far off that he was not their neighbor at\nall, but that of some other folks.\n\nOne night the old women made up a fire, and lay down and went to sleep\nIndian-fashion,--_witkusoodijik_,--heads and points, so that both\ncould lie with their back to the fire.\n\nNow while they were sound asleep, Lox, the Wolverine, or Indian Devil,\ncame prowling round. Some people say it was Hespuns, the Raccoon; and\nit is a fact that Master Coon can play a very close game of deviltry on\nhis own account. However, this time it must have been Lox, as you can\nsee by the tracks.\n\nWhile they were both sound asleep Lox looked in. He found the old women\nasleep, heads and points, and at once saw his way to a neat little bit\nof mischief. So, going into the woods, he cut a fine long sapling-pole\nof _ow-bo-goos_, and poked one end of it into the fire till it was\na burning coal. Then he touched the soles of Mrs. Bear; and she,\nwaking, cried out to the other, \"Take care! you are burning me!\" which\nthe other denied like a thunder-clap.\n\nThen Master Lox carefully applied the end of the hot pole to the feet\nof the other woman. First she dreamed that she was walking on hot sand\nand roasting rocks in summer-time, and then that the Mohawks were\ncooking her at the death-fire; and then she woke up, and, seeing where\nshe was, began to blame Mrs. Bear for it all, just as if she were a\nMohawk.\n\nAh, yes. Well, Master Lox, seeing them fighting in a great rage, burst\nout laughing, so that he actually burst himself, and fell down dead\nwith delight. It was a regular side-splitter. When my grandfather said\n_that_ we _always_ laughed.\n\nIn the morning, when the women came out, there lay a dead devil at the\ndoor. He must indeed have looked like a Raccoon this time; but whatever\nhe was, they took him, skinned him, and dressed him for breakfast. Then\nthe kettle was hung and the water boiled, and they popped him in. But\nas soon as it began to scald he began to come to life. In a minute he\nwas all together again, alive and well, and with one good leap went\nclear of the kettle. Rushing out of the lodge, he grabbed his skin,\nwhich hung on a bush outside, put it on, and in ten seconds was safe in\nthe greenwood. He just saved himself with a whole skin.\n\nNow Master Lox had precious little time, you will say, to do any more\nmischief between his coming to life and running away; yet, short as the\nallowance was, he made a great deal of it. For even while jumping out\nhis wits for wickedness came to him, and he just kicked the edge of the\npot, so that it spilled all the scalding hot water into the fire, and\nthrew up the ashes with a great splutter. They flew into the eyes of\nDame Bear and blinded her.\n\nNow this was hard on the old lady. She could not go out hunting, or set\ntraps, or fish any more; and her partner, being mean, kept all the nice\nmorsels for herself. Mrs. Bear only got the leanest and poorest of the\nmeat, though there was plenty of the best. As my grandfather used to\nsay, Mrs. Bear might have fared better if she had used her eyes earlier.\n\nOne day, when she was sitting alone in the wigwam, Mrs. Bear began to\nremember all she had ever heard about eyes, and it came into her head\nthat sometimes they were closed up in such a way that clever folk could\ncut them open again. So she got her knife and sharpened it, and,\ncarefully cutting a little, saw the light of day. Then she was glad\nindeed, and with a little more cutting found that she could see as\nwell as ever. And as good luck does nut come single, the very first\nthing she beheld was an abundance of beautiful fat venison, fish, and\nmaple-sugar hung up overhead.\n\nDame Bear said nothing about her having recovered her eyesight. She\nwatched all the cooking going on, and saw the daintiest dinner, which\nall went into one platter, and a very poor lot of bones and scraps\nplaced in another. Then, when she was called to eat, she simply said to\nthe other woman, who kept the best, \"Well, you have done well for\nyourself!\"\n\nThe other saw that Mrs. Bear had recovered her sight. She was\nfrightened, for Dame Bear was by far the better man of the two. So she\ncried out, \"Bless me! what a mistake I've made! Why, I gave you the\nwrong dish. You know, my dear sister, that I always give you the best\nbecause you are blind.\"\n\nMy grandfather said that after this Mrs. Bear kept her eyes open on\npeople in two ways. And it always made us laugh, _that_ did.\n\nThe Spirit of Mischief in these stories is sometimes Lox, the\nWolverine; at others the Raccoon, or the Badger. Their adventures are\ninterchangeable. But the character is always the same, and it is much\nlike that of Loki. Now Loki is Fire; and it may be observed in this\nlegend that the wolverine or raccoon comes to life when thrown into\nscalding water, and that in another narrative Lox dies for want of\nfire; in another he is pricked by thorns and stung by ants. \"We must,\"\nsays C. F. Keary, in his Mythology of the Eddas, \"admit that the\nconstant appearance of thorn-hedges, pricking with a sleep-thorn (Lox's\nthorns are his bed), in German and Norse legends, is a mythical way of\nexpressing the idea of the funeral _fire_.\"\n\nThe first thing that the Lox-Raccoon does in this tale, on coming to\nlife, is to upset a pot into the ashes for mischief's sake. And the\nvery first exploit of the magic deer, made by the evil spirits and\nsorcerers in the Kalevala (Runes XIII.), is thus set forth:--\n\n  \"Then the Husi stag went bounding,\n  Bounding to the land of Pohja,\n  Till he reached the fields of Lapland.\n  Passing there before a cabin (_goatte_),\n  With a single kick while running\n\n  He upset the boiling kettle,\n  So that all the meat went rolling,\n  Rolling ruined in the ashes,\n  And the soup upon the hearth-stone.\"\n\nThis is, in both cases, the very first act of an animal, created and\nliving only for mischief, on coming to a magic or artificial life.\n\nThe legends of Finland and Lapland are as important as the Norse to\nexplain the origin of our Indian mythology.\n\n\n\n\n_How Lox came to Grief by trying to catch a Salmon._\n\n(Passamaquoddy.)\n\n\nKusk, the Crane, had two brothers. One of these was Lox, the Wolverine,\nor Indian Devil. And his other brother was Koskomines, the Blue Jay.\n\nKusk was very lazy, and one day, being hungry, thought he would go and\nget a dinner from Lox. Lox served him a kind of pudding-soup in a\nbroad, flat platter. Poor Kusk could hardly get a mouthful, while Lox\nhipped it all up with ease.\n\nSoon after, Kusk made a fine soup, and invited Lox to dinner. This he\nserved up in a jug, a long cylinder. None of it had Lox. Kusk ate it\nall.\n\nThe next day the pair went to dine with Blue Jay. Blue Jay said, \"Wait\ntill I get our food.\" Then he ran out on a bough of a tree which spread\nover a river, and in a minute fished out a large salmon. \"Truly,\"\nthought Lox, \"that is easy to do, and I can do it.\"\n\nSo the next day he invited the Blue Jay and Crane to feed with him.\nThen he, too, ran down to the river and out on a tree, and, seeing a\nfine salmon, caught at it with his claws. But he had not learned the\nart, and so fell into the river, and was swept away by the rushing\ncurrent.\n\nThis is one of AEsop's fables Indianized and oddly eked out with a\nfragment from a myth attributed to both Manobozho and the Wabanaki\nRabbit. As the Wolverine has a great resemblance to Loki, it may be\nhere observed that, while he dies in trying to catch a salmon, \"Loki,\nin the likeness of a salmon, cast himself into the waterfall of\nFranangr.\" which was effectively his last act in life before being\ncaptured by the gods, as told in the Edda. Otter, in the Edda, caught a\nsalmon, and was then caught by Loki. There is, of course, great\nconfusion here, but the Indian tale is a mere fragment, carelessly\npieced and indifferently told. Lox is, like Loki, _fire_ and\nperishes by water.\n\n\n\n\n_How Master Lox as a Raccoon killed the Bear and the Black Cats and\nperformed other Notable Feats of Skill, all to his Great Discredit._\n\n(Passamaquoddy.)\n\n\nNow of old time there is a tale of Hespuns, the Raccoon, according to\nthe Passamaquoddy Indians, but by another record it is Master Lox, to\nwhom all Indian deviltry truly belongs. And this is the story. One fine\nmorning Master Lox started off as a Raccoon; [Footnote: The same\nstories are attributed to the Wolverine, Badger, and Raccoon.] for he\nwalked the earth in divers disguises, to take his usual roundabouts,\nand as he went he saw a huge bear, as the manuscript reads, \"right\nstraight ahead of him.\"\n\nNow the old Bear was very glad, to see the Raccoon, for he had made up\nhis mind to kill him at once if he could: firstly, to punish him for\nhis sins; and secondly, to eat him for breakfast. Then the Raccoon ran\ninto a hollow tree, the Bear following, and beginning to root it up.\n\nNow the Coon saw that in a few minutes the tree would go and he be\ngone. But he began to sing as if he did not care a bean, and said, \"All\nthe digging and pushing this tree will never catch me. Push your way in\nbackwards, and then I must yield and die. But that you cannot do, since\nthe hole is too small for you.\" Then Mooin, the Bruin, hearing this,\nbelieved it, but saw that he could easily enlarge the hole, which he\ndid, and so put himself in arrear; upon which the Raccoon seized him,\nand held on till he was slain. [Footnote: As Reynard, the Fox, won the\nvictory in the famous tale versified by Goethe. Vide _Reinecke\nFuchs_.]\n\nThen he crawled out of the tree, and, having made himself a fine pair\nOf mittens out of the Bear's skin, started off again, and soon saw a\nwigwam from which rose a smoke, and, walking in, he found a family of\n_Begemkessisek_, or Black Cats. So, greeting them, he said,\n\"Young folks, comb me down and make me nice, and I will give you these\nbeautiful bear-skin mittens.\" So the little Black Cats combed him down,\nand parted his hair, and brushed his tail, and while they were doing this\nhe fell asleep; and they, being very hungry, took the fresh bear-skin\nmitts, and scraped them all up, and cooked and ate them. Then the Coon,\nwaking up, looked very angry at them, and said in an awful voice,\n\"Where are my bear-skin mitts?\" And they, in great fear, replied,\n\"Please, sir, we cooked and ate them.\" Then the Coon flew at them and\nstrangled them every one, all except the youngest, who, since he could\nnot speak as yet, the Raccoon, or Lox, thought could not tell of him.\nThen, for a great joke, he took all the little dead creatures and set\nthem up by the road-side in a row; as it was a cold day they all froze\nstiff, and then he put a stick across their jaws, so that the little\nBlack Cats looked as if they were laughing for joy. Then he made off at\nfull speed.\n\nSoon the father, the old Black Cat, came home, and, seeing his children\nall grinning at him, he said, \"How glad the dear little things are to\nsee me.\" But as none moved he saw that something was wrong, and his joy\nsoon changed to sorrow. [Footnote: This trick is so precisely in the\nstyle of Lox that it seems a gross mistake to attribute it to the\nRaccoon. Those who have seen a wild cat grin will appreciate the humor\nof Lox on this occasion.]\n\nThen the youngest Black Cat, the baby, came out of some hole where he\nhad hid himself. Now the baby was too young to speak, but he was very\nclever, and, picking up a piece of charcoal, he made a mark from the\nend of his mouth around his cheek. [Footnote: The reader cannot fail to\nrecall the peculiar mustache of the Raccoon so well indicated by the\ninfant artist.] Then the father cried, \"Ah, _now_ I know who it\nwas,--the Raccoon, as sure as I live!\" And he started after him in hot\npursuit.\n\nSoon the Raccoon saw the fierce Black Cat, as an Indian, coming after\nhim with a club. And, looking at him, he said, \"No club can kill me;\nnothing but a bulrush or cat-tail can take my life.\" Then the Black\nCat, who knew where to get one, galloped off to a swamp, and, having\ngot a large cat-tail, came to the Coon and hit him hard with it. It\nburst and spread all over the Raccoon's head, and, being wet, the fuzz\nstuck to him. And the Black Cat, thinking it was the Coon's brains and\nall out, went his way.\n\nThe Raccoon lay quite still till his foe was gone, and then went on his\ntravels. Now he was a great magician, though little to other folks'\ngood. And he came to a place where there were many women nursing their\nbabes, and said, \"This is but a slow way you have of raising children.\"\nTo which the good women replied, \"How else should we raise them?\" Then\nhe answered, \"I will show you how we do in our country. When we want\nthem to grow fast, we dip them into cold water over night. Just lend me\none, and I will show you how to raise them in a hurry.\" They gave him\none: he took it to the river, and, cutting a hole in the ice, put the\nchild into it. The next morning he went to the place, and took out a\nfull-grown man, alive and well. The women were indeed astonished at\nthis. All hastened to put their babes that night under the ice, and\nthen the Raccoon rushed away. So they all died.\n\nThen he came to another camp, where many women with fine stuff and furs\nwere making bags. \"That is a very slow way you have of working,\" he\nsaid to the goodwives. \"In our country we cook them under the ashes.\nLet me see the stuff and show you how!\" They gave him a piece: he put\nit under the hot coals and ashes, and in a few minutes drew out from\nthem a beautiful bag. Then they all hurried to put their cloth under\nthe fire. Just then he left in haste. And when they drew the stuff out\nit was scorched or burned, and all spoiled.\n\nThen he came to a great river, and did not know how to get across. He\nsaw on the bank an old _Wiwillmekq'_, a strange worm which is like\na horned, alligator; but he was blind. \"Grandfather,\" said the Raccoon,\n\"carry me over the lake.\" \"Yes, my grandson,\" said the Wiwillmekq', and\naway he swam; the Ravens and Crows above began to ridicule them. \"What\nare those birds saying?\" inquired the Old One. \"Oh, they are crying to\nyou to hurry, hurry, for your life, with that Raccoon!\" So the\nWiwillmekq', not seeing land ahead, hurried with such speed that the\nRaccoon made him run his head and half his body into the bank, and then\njumped off and left him. But whether the Wiwillmekq' ever got out again\nis more than he ever troubled himself to know.\n\nSo he went on till he came to some Black Berries, and said, \"Berries,\nhow would you agree with me if I should eat you?\" \"Badly indeed, Master\nCoon,\" they replied, \"for we are Choke-berries.\" \"Choke-berries,\nindeed! Then I will have none of you.\" And then further he found on\nsome bushes, Rice-berries. \"Berries,\" he cried, \"how would you agree\nwith me if I should eat you?\" \"We should make you itch, for we are\nItch-berries.\" \"Ah, that is what I like,\" he replied, and so ate his\nfill. Then as he went on he felt very uneasy: he seemed to be tormented\nwith prickles, he scratched and scratched, but it did not help or cure.\nSo he rubbed himself on a ragged rock; he slid up and down it till the\nhair came off.\n\nNow the Raccoon is bare or has little fur where he scratched himself,\nto this very day. This story is at an end.\n\nThis story is from the Passamaquoddy Indian-English collection made for\nme by Louis Mitchell. In the original, the same incident of boiling the\nhero in a kettle and of his springing out of it occurs as in the tale\nof Mrs. Bear and the Raccoon. This I have here omitted. The\nMephistophelian and mocking character of Lox is strongly shown when he\nsays, \"Nothing but a cat-tail or bulrush can kill me,\" this being\nevidently an allusion to Glooskap. This is to an Indian much like\nblasphemy. Lox, or Raccoon, or Badger,--for they are all the same,--in\nhis journeyings after mere mischief reminds us of an Indian Tyl\nEulenspiegel. But the atrocious nature of his jokes is like nothing\nelse, unless it be indeed the homicide Punch. It is the indomitable\nnature of both which commends them respectively to the Englishman and\nto the Red Indian. In this tale Lox appears as the spirit of fire by\ndrawing a bag from it. The itching or pricking from which he suffers is\nalso significant of that element, as appears, according to Keary, in\nmany Norse, etc., legends.\n\nIn the Seneca tale of the Mischief Maker, the Berries are distinctly\ndeclared to have souls.\n\n\n\n\n_How Lox deceived the Ducks, cheated the Chief, and beguiled the\nBear._\n\n(Micmac and Passamaquoddy.)\n\n\nSomewhere in the forest lived Lox, with a small boy, his brother. When\nwinter came they went far into the woods to hunt. And going on, they\nreached at last a very large and beautiful lake. It was covered with\nwater-fowl. There were wild geese and brant, black ducks and wood-ducks,\nand all the smaller kinds down to teal and whistlers.\n\nThe small boy was delighted to see so much game. He eagerly asked his\nbrother how he meant to catch them. He answered, \"We must first go to\nwork and build a large wigwam. It must be very strong, with a heavy,\nsolid door.\" This was done; and Lox, being a great magician, thus\narranged his plans for taking the wild-fowl. He sent the boy out to a\npoint of land, where he was to cry to the birds and tell them that his\nbrother wished to give them a kingly reception. (_Nakamit_, to act\nthe king.) He told them their king had come. Then Lox, arraying himself\ngrandly, sat with dignity next the door, with his eyes closed, as if in\ngreat state. Then the little boy shouted that they might enter and hear\nwhat the great sagamore had to say. They flocked in, and took their\nseats in the order of their size. The Wild Geese came nearest and sat\ndown, then the Ducks, and so on to the smallest, who sat nearest the\ndoor. Last of all came the boy, who entering also sat down by the door,\nclosed it, and held it fast. So the little birds, _altumabedajik_\n(M.), sat next to him.\n\nThen they were all told \"_Spegwedajik_!\" \"Shut your eyes!\" and\nwere directed to keep them closed for their very lives, until directed\nto open them again. Unless they did this first, their eyes would be\nblinded forever when they beheld their king in all his magnificence. So\nthey sat in silence. Then the sorcerer, stepping softly, took them one\nby one, grasping each tightly by the wings, and ere the bird knew what\nhe was about it had its head crushed between his teeth. And so without\nnoise or fluttering he killed all the Wild Geese and Brant and Black\nDucks. Then the little boy began to pity the poor small wild-fowl. He\nthought it was a shame to kill so many, having already more than they\nneeded. So stooping down, he whispered to a very little bird to open\nits eyes. It did so, but very cautiously indeed, for fear of being\nblinded.\n\nGreat was his horror to see what Lox was doing! He screamed,\n\"_Kedumeds'lk_!\" \"We are all being killed!\" Then they opened their\neyes, and flew about in the utmost confusion, screaming loudly in\nterror. The little boy dropped down as if he had been knocked over in\nthe confusion, so that the door flew wide open, and the birds, rushing\nover him, began to, escape, while Lox in a rage continued to seize them\nand kill them with his teeth. Then the little boy, to avoid suspicion,\ngrasped the last fugitive by the legs and held him fast. But he was\nsuspected all the same by the wily sorcerer, who caught him up roughly,\nand would have beaten him cruelly but that he earnestly protested that\nthe birds knocked him down and forced the door open, and that he could\nby no means help it: which being somewhat slowly believed, he was\nforgiven, and they began to pluck and dress the game. The giblets were\npreserved, the fowls sliced and dried and laid by for the winter's\nstore.\n\nThen having plenty of provisions, Lox gave a feast. Among the guests\nwere Marten and Mahtigwess, the Rabbit, who talked together for a long\ntime in the most confidential manner, the Rabbit confiding and the\nMarten attending to him.\n\nNow while this conversation had been going on, Lox, who was deeply\naddicted to all kinds of roguery and mischief, had listened to it with\ninterest. And when the two little guests had ceased he asked them where\ntheir village was, and who lived in it. Then he was told that all the\nlargest animals had their homes there: the bear, caribou or reindeer,\ndeer, wolf, wild cat, to say nothing of squirrels and mice. And having\ngot them to show him the way, he some time after turned himself into a\nyoung woman of great beauty, or at least disguised himself like one,\nand going to the village married the young chief. And having left\nlittle Marten alone in a hollow tree outside the village, the boy,\ngetting hungry, began to howl for food; which the villagers hearing\nwere in a great fright. But the young chiefs wife, or the magician\nLox, soon explained to them what it meant. \"It is,\" she-he said,\n\"_Owoolakumooejit_, the Spirit of Famine. He is grim and gaunt;\nhear how he howls for food! Woe be unto you, should he reach this\nvillage! Ah, I remember only too well what happened when he once\ncame among us. Horror! starvation!\"\n\n\"Can you drive him back?\" cried all the villagers.\n\n\"Yes, 'tis in my power. Do but give me the well-tanned hide of a\nyearling moose and a good supply of moose-tallow, [Footnote: A great\ndelicacy among these semi-Arctic Indians.] then the noise will cease.\"\nAnd seizing it, and howling furiously the name of his brother after a\nfashion which no one could understand,--_Aa-chowwa'n_!--and\nbidding him begone, he rushed out into the night, until he came to\nMarten, to whom he gave the food, and, wrapping him up well in the\nmoose-skin, bade him wait a while. And the villagers thought the\nchief's wife was indeed a very great conjurer.\n\nAnd then she-he announced that a child would soon be born. And when the\nday came Badger handed out a bundle, and said that the babe was in it.\n\"_Noolmusugakelaimadijul_,\" \"They kiss it outside the blanket.\"\nBut when the chief opened it what he found therein was the dried,\nwithered embryo of a moose-calf. In a great rage he flung it into the\nfire, and all rushed headlong in a furious pack to catch Badger. They\nsaw him and Marten rushing to the lake. They pursued him, but when he\nreached the bank the wily sorcerer cast in a stick; it turned into a\ncanoe, and long ere the infuriated villagers could reach them they were\non the opposite shore and in the woods.\n\nNow it came to pass one day that as Lox sat on a log a bear came by,\nwho, being a sociable fellow, sat down by him and smoked a pipe. While\nthey were talking a gull flew over, and inadvertently offered to Lox\nwhat he considered, or affected to consider, as a great insult. And\nwiping the insult off, Lox cried to the Gull, \"Oh, ungrateful and\ninsolent creature, is this the way you reward me for having made you\nwhite!\"\n\nNow the Bear would always be white if he could, for the White Bear\n(_wabeyu mooin_) is the aristocrat of Beardom. So he eagerly\ncried, \"Ha! did you make the Gull white?\"\n\n\"Indeed I did,\" replied Lox. \"And this is what I get for it.\"\n\n\"Could you, my dear friend,--could you make _me_ white?\"\n\nThen Lox saw his way, and replied that he could indeed, but that it\nwould be a long and agonizing process; Mooin might die of it. To be\nsure the Gull stood it, but could a Bear?\n\nNow the Bear, who had a frame as hard as a rock, felt sure that he\ncould endure anything that a gull could, especially to become a white\nbear. So, with much ceremony, the Great Enchanter went to work. He\nbuilt a strong wigwam, three feet high, of stones, and having put the\nBear into it he cast in red-hot stones, and poured water on them\nthrough a small hole in the roof. Erelong the Bear was in a terrible\nsteam.\n\n\"Ah, Doctor Lox,\" he cried, \"this is awfully hot! I fear I am dying!\"\n\n\"Courage,\" said Lox; \"this is nothing. The Gull had it twice as hot.\"\n\n\"Can't stand it any more, doctor. _O-o-o-oh_!\"\n\nDoctor Lox threw in more hot stones and poured more water on them. The\nBear yelled.\n\n\"Let me out! _O-o-h_! let me out! _O-o-o-oh_!\"\n\nSo he came bursting through the door. The doctor examined him\ncritically.\n\nNow there is on an old bear a small white or light spot on his upper\nbreast, which he cannot see. [Footnote: This is very white on the\nJapanese bears.] And Doctor Lox, looking at this, said,--\n\n\"What a pity! You came out just as you were beginning to turn white.\nHere is the first spot. Five minutes more and you'd have been a white\nbear. Ah, you haven't the pluck of a gull; that I can see.\"\n\nNow the Bear was mortified and disappointed. He had not seen the spot,\nso he asked Lox if it was really there.\n\n\"Wait a minute,\" said the doctor. He led the Bear to a pool and made\nhim look in. Sure enough, the spot was there. Then he asked if they\ncould not begin again.\n\n\"Certainly we can,\" replied the doctor. \"But it will be much hotter and\nharder and longer this time. Don't try it if you feel afraid, and don't\nblame _me_ if you die of it.\"\n\nThe Bear went in again, but he never came out alive. The doctor had\nroast bear meat all that winter, and much bear's oil. He gave some of\nthe oil to his younger brother. The boy took it in a measure. Going\nalong the creek, he saw a Muskrat (_Keuchus_, Pass.). He said to\nthe Muskrat, \"If you can harden this oil for me, I will give you half.\"\nThe Muskrat made it as hard as ice. The boy said, \"If my brother comes\nand asks you to do this for him, do you keep it all.\" And, returning,\nhe showed the oil thus hardened to his brother, who, taking a large\nmeasure of it, went to the Muskrat and asked him to harden it. The\nMuskrat indeed took the dish and swam away with it, and never returned.\n\nThen the elder, vexed with the younger, and remembering the ducks in\nthe wigwam, and believing now that he had indeed been cheated, slew\nhim.\n\n[Illustration: THE INDIAN BOY AND THE MUSK-RAT. SEEPS, THE DUCK.]\n\nThis confused and strange story is manifestly pieced together out of\nseveral others, each of which have incidents in common. A part of it\nis very ancient. Firstly, the inveigling the ducks into the wigwam is\nfound in the Eskimo tale of Avurungnak (Rink, p. 177). The Eskimo is\ntold by a sorcerer to let the sea-birds into the tent, and not to\nbegin to kill them till the tent is full. He disobeys, and a part of\nthem escape. In Schoolcraft's Hiawatha Legends, Manobozho gets the\nmysterious oil which ends the foregoing story from a fish. He fattens\nall the animals in the world with it, and the amount which they consume\nis the present measure of their fatness. When this ceremony is over, he\ninveigles all the birds into his power by telling them to shut their\neyes. At last a small duck, the diver, suspecting something, opens one\neye, and gives the alarm.\n\nThe sorcerer's passing himself off for a woman and the trick of the\nmoose abortion occurs in three tales, but it is most completely given\nin this. To this point the narrative follows the Micmac, Passamaquoddy,\nand Chippewa versions. After the tale of the chief is at an end it is\nentirely Passamaquoddy; but of the latter I have two versions, one from\nTomah Josephs and one from Mrs. W. Wallace Brown.\n\nI can see no sense in the account of the bear's oil hardened by ice,\nbut that oil is an essential part of the duck story appears from the\nChippewa legend (Hiawatha L. p. 30). In the latter it is represented as\ngiving size to those who partake of it.\n\n\n\n\n_The Mischief Maker. A Tradition of the Origin of the Mythology of\nthe Senecas. A Lox Legend._\n\n(Seneca.)\n\n\nAn Indian mischief maker was once roving about. He saw that he was\napproaching a village, and said, \"How can I attract attention?\"\n\nSeeing two girls coming from the wigwams, he pulled up a wild plum-bush\nand placed it upon his head, the roots clasping about his chin.\n\nIt will be strange to see a plum-tree on my head, bearing ripe fruit.\nThese girls will want trees also. So he thought. The tree shook as he\nwalked, and many plums fell to the ground.\n\nThe girls wondered greatly at the strange man with the tree. They\nadmired it, and said they, too, would like to be always supplied with\nfruit in such a manner.\n\n\"I can manage that,\" he replied. So he pulled up a bush for each, and\nplanted them on their heads. The plums were delicious, and grew as fast\nas they were plucked; and the girls stepped along proudly, for they had\nsomething which certainly no girls ever had before.\n\nThe Mischief Maker went on to the village. On the way he reflected,\n\"There is no such thing in the world as a plum-tree growing on a man's\nhead. I will take this off.\" He did so, and, on entering the village,\ngave a loud signal (a whoop). All the people listened, and the chiefs\nsent messengers to inquire what news he brought.\n\nHe said, \"I have seen a very strange sight. As I was coming hither I\nsaw two girls walking. Trees grew on their heads; the boughs were\ncovered with plums, and the roots, which came through their hair, were\nfastened about their necks. They were beautiful, and seemed to be very\nhappy.\"\n\n\"We will go and see them!\" cried the women.\n\nThey had not gone far before they saw one of the girls lying on the\nground, while the other pulled at the tree on her head. The roots gave\nway and the tree came out, but all the hair came with it also. Then the\nother lay down, and her friend in turn pulled the tree from her head.\nThey were very angry, and said, \"If we meet with the man who played us\nthis trick we will punish him.\"\n\nWhen the women who had gathered round them learned how the trees had\nbeen fastened by magic upon the girls' heads, they returned to the\nvillage, resolved to chastise the man who had played the trick. But\nwhen they reached home he was gone.\n\nGone far and away to another town. Before reaching it he sat down, and\nsaid, \"Now I will show these people also what I can do.\" He went a\nlittle distance into the woods, where he found a wigwam. A woman with a\nbucket in her hand came from it. He saw that as she passed along she\nreached high with one hand, and felt her way by a thong which ran from\ntree to tree till it ended at a spring of cold water. She went on,\nfilled her bucket, and so returned. Then another woman after her did\nthe same.\n\n\"They must be blind,\" said the Mischief Maker. \"I will have some fun\nwith them.\" And so it was. There lived in that wigwam five blind\nsisters.\n\nThen he untied the thong from the tree near the spring and fastened it\nto another, where there was no water. Then a third blind woman came\nwith a bucket, and followed the line to the end, but found no water.\nShe returned to the wigwam, and said, \"The spring is dried up.\"\n\n\"No, it isn't,\" replied one of the sisters, who was stirring pudding\nover the fire. \"You say that because you are too lazy to bring water;\nyou never work. Here, do you stir the pudding, and let me go for\nwater.\"\n\nThe Mischief Maker heard all this, and made haste to tie the end of the\nthong where it belonged. The blind woman filled her bucket, and when\nshe returned said to her sister, \"There, you lazy creature, I found the\nwater!\"\n\nBy this time the Mischief Maker was in the house, and slipping quietly\nup to the fire he dipped out some of the pudding and threw it, scalding\nhot, into the face of the scolding woman, who cried in a rage,--\n\n\"You throw hot pudding at me, do you?\"\n\n\"No, I did not throw any at you,\" replied the sister.\n\nThen the Mischief Maker threw some into _her_ face. She screamed,\nbeing very angry.\n\n\"You mean thing! You threw hot pudding at me, when I did you no harm.\"\n\n\"I didn't throw any!\" said the other, in a rage.\n\n\"Yes, you _did_, you mean thing!\"\n\n\"Stop! stop!\" cried the others. Just then hot pudding flew in all their\nfaces; they had a terrible quarrel, and the Mischief Maker left them to\nsettle it among themselves as they could.\n\nHe entered the village near by, and gave the usual signal for news. The\nrunners came out and met him; the chiefs and all the people assembled,\nlining the path on both sides for a long way. They asked, \"What news do\nyou bring?\"\n\nHe replied, \"I come from at village where there is great distress. A\npestilence visited the people. The medicine man could not cure the\nsick; till I came there was no remedy; the tribe was becoming very\nsmall. But I told them the remedy, and now they are getting well. I\nhave come to tell you to prepare for the pestilence: it will soon be\nhere; it is flying like the wind, and there is only one remedy.\"\n\n\"What is it? what is it? what is it?\" interrupted the people.\n\nHe answered, \"Every man must embrace the woman who is next to him at\nthis very instant; kiss her, quick, immediately!\"\n\nThey all did so on the spot, he with the rest.\n\nAs he was leaving them an elderly man came to him and whispered, \"Are\nyou going to do this thing again at the next village? If you are I\nshould like to be on hand. I didn't get any girl myself here. The woman\nI went for dodged me, and said she had rather have the pestilence, and\ndeath too, than have me kiss her. Is the operation to be repeated?\"\n\nThe Mischief Maker said that it certainly would be, about the middle of\nthe morrow forenoon.\n\n\"Then I will start now,\" said the middle-aged man, \"for I am lame, and\nit will take me all night to get there.\"\n\nSo he hurried on, and at daylight entered the village. He found a\nwigwam, by which several beautiful Indian girls were pounding corn in a\ngreat wooden mortar. He sat down by them. He could hardly take his eyes\nfrom them, they were so charming, and they wondered at his strange\nbehavior.\n\nHe talked with them, and said, \"My eyelids quiver, and by that I know\nthat some great and strange news will soon be brought to this tribe.\nHark!\"--here he moved up towards the one whom he most admired,--\"did\nyou not hear a signal?\"\n\n\"No,\" they replied.\n\nThe middle-aged man became very uneasy. Suddenly the girls gave a cry,\nand dropped their corn pestles. A voice was heard afar; the runners\nleaped and flew, the chiefs and people went forth. With them went the\ngirls and the middle-aged man, who took great pains to keep very near\nhis chosen one, so as to lose no time in applying the remedy for the\npestilence when the Mischief Maker should give the signal. He was\ndetermined that a life should not be lost if he could prevent it.\n\nThe Stranger went through his story as at the other village. The people\nbecame very much excited. They cried, out to know the remedy, and the\nold bachelor drew nearer to the pretty girl.\n\n\"The only remedy for the pestilence is for every woman _to knock down\nthe man who is nearest her_.\"\n\nThe women began to knock down, and the first to fall was the too\nfamiliar old bachelor. So the Mischief Maker waited no longer than to\nsee the whole town in one general and bitter fight, tooth and nail,\ntomahawk and scalper, and then ran at the top of his speed far away and\nfleet, to find another village. Then the people, finding they had been\ntricked, said, as people generally do on such occasions, \"If we had\nthat fellow here, wouldn't we pay him up for this?\"\n\nThe Mischief Maker was greatly pleased at his success. It was nearly\ndark when he stopped, and said, \"I will not enter the next village\nto-night; I will camp here in the woods.\" So he had piled up logs for a\nfire, and was just about to strike a light, when he saw a stranger\napproaching. \"Camp with me here over night,\" said the Mischief Maker,\n\"and we will go to the village in the morning.\"\n\nSo they ate and smoked their pipes, and told stories till it was very\nlate. But the stranger did not seem to tire; nay, he even proposed to\ntell stories all night long. The Mischief Maker looked at him aslant.\n\n\"My friend,\" he said, \"can you tell me of what wood my back-log is?\"\n\n\"Hickory?\" inquired the stranger.\n\n\"No, not hickory.\"\n\n\"Maple?\"\n\n\"No, not maple.\"\n\n\"White oak?\"\n\n\"No, not white oak.\"\n\n\"Black walnut?\"\n\n\"No, not black walnut.\"\n\n\"Moosewood?\"\n\n\"No, not moosewood.\"\n\n\"Ash?\"\n\n\"No, not ash.\"\n\n\"Pine?\"\n\n\"No, not pine.\"\n\n\"Cedar?\"\n\n\"No, not cedar.\"\n\n\"Birch?\"\n\nThe stranger began to yawn, but he kept on guessing. Then his head\nnodded. By the time he had found out that it was slippery elm he was\nsound asleep.\n\n\"This fellow deserves punishment,\" remarked the Mischief Maker. \"He is\nan enemy to mankind.\" Here he adroitly put some sticky clay on the\nsleeper's eyes, and departed. When the stranger awoke he thought\nhimself still fast asleep in darkness, and then that he was blind.\n\n\"If ever I meet with that fellow again,\" he said, \"I'll punish him!\"\n\nThe Mischief Maker played so many pranks that all the tribes sent out\nrunners to catch him. He heard their whoops in every forest. He knew\nthat he was being hunted down. He hurried on, and once at night hid in\na cave under a rock. The runners did not quite overtake him, but they\nsaw that his tracks were fresh, and thought they might catch him in the\nmorning. In the morning he was up and far away long before they awoke.\nThe next night he hid again in a hollow log. In the middle of the\nafternoon of the next day he heard the whoops of the pursuers very\nnear, and knew that they were gaining fast on him. He climbed a thickly\nlimbed tree, and hid in the top. Here the runners lost his track,\nbecause he had broken the weeds and bushes down beyond the tree, as if\nhe had gone further on. They ran for a long distance. Then they\nreturned, and camped and built a fire under the tree.\n\nThe smoke crept up among the branches and curled above, and rose in a\nstraight column to the sky. The fugitive sailed away on the smoke,\ngoing up and up,--past beautiful lakes and hunting-grounds stocked with\ndeer, large fields of corn and beans, tobacco and squashes; past great\ncompanies of handsome Indians, whose wigwams were hung full of dried\nvenison and bear's meat. And so he went on and up to the wig-wam of the\nGreat Chief.\n\nHere he rested. He remained for a hundred moons observing the customs\nof the people and learning their language. One morning the Great Chief\ntold him that he must return to his own people. He disliked to do this,\nfor he was very happy in the new place. The Chief said, \"These are the\nhappy hunting grounds. We have admitted you that you may know how and\nwhat to teach your people, that they may get here. Go, and if you do\nwhat I tell you, you may return to remain forever. You have not been\nallowed to come here to remain, but only to observe. When you come\nagain, you shall join us in all things. You shall hunt and fish then,\nand have whatever you wish. But return now, and teach what you have\nlearned here.\"\n\nA cloud of smoke in the form of a great eagle came to him, and, seated\non its back, he was borne down to the top of the tree from which he had\nrisen. He opened his eyes. The sun was shining. His pursuers had gone\naway. He descended and traveled on. His mind was filled with what he\nhad seen. He said, \"I will no longer play tricks, but tell the people\nabout what I learned in the happy hunting-grounds.\"\n\nAfter a long journey he drew near a village. He gave the common signal.\nRunners came to meet him. The head chief and all the people came to\nhear. He was asked, \"What news do you bring us?\"\n\nHe said, \"I that was the Mischief Maker am the Peace Maker now. The\nGreat Spirit took me to the happy hunting-grounds, and I am sent back\nto tell you how to get there.\" Then the Peace Maker described all he\nhad seen. The people built a great fire and danced around it, and\nshouted as they had never done before. Then he said, \"This is the\nmessage I bring you.\"\n\nSo the people sat in a great circle round the fire and listened. He\nspoke:--\n\n\"The Great Spirit is unseen, but he is about us. He will not forsake us.\nHe rules all things for us. He will take care of us. He told me that we\nshould return thanks to him, for he changes the seasons, and makes corn\nand beans and squashes grow for us. He is displeased when we kill our\nbrothers. He hopes that we will not forget him. He will never die. His\nname is _Ha-wen-ni-yu_,--the Ruler. He bids us keep away from his\nwicked brother, whose name is _Ha-ne-go-ate-geh_, the Evil-Minded.\nHe is very bad. He brings pestilence and fevers, and lizards and poisonous\nweeds. He destroys peace, and brings war. Ha-wen-ni-yu will care for us\nif we trust in him. Obey his words, and Ha-ne-go-ate-geh will never\nharm us.\n\nThe Great Spirit, has messengers, who aid him in his work. They watch\nover the people. They take care of the mother and her new-born babe,\nthat they receive no harm; they watch over those whom the Evil-Minded\nhas troubled with disease. The Evil-Minded has messengers who do his\nwork. They scatter pestilence, and whisper in our ears, and tell us to\ngo against Ha-wen-ni-yu.\n\nThe Great Spirit has messengers. Heno has a pouch filled with\nthunderbolts. Heno gathers the clouds and sends the rain. He is a\nfriend to the corn and beans and squashes. He also punishes witches and\nevil persons. Pray to Heno when you plant, and thank him when you\ngather your crop. Pray also to Ha-wen-ni-yu, who will send Heno to care\nfor you. Let Heno be called Grandfather.\n\nGa-oh is the Spirit of the Winds. He moves the winds, but he is chained\nto a rock. The winds trouble him, and he tries very hard to get free.\nWhen he struggles the winds are forced away from him, and they blow\nupon the earth. Sometimes he suffers terrible pain, and then his\nstruggles are violent. This makes the winds wild, and they do damage on\nthe earth. Then he feels better and goes to sleep, and the winds become\nquiet also.\n\nThere is a spirit for the corn, another for beans, another for squashes.\nThey are sisters, and are very kind to each other. They dwell together,\nand live in the fields. They shall be known as _De-o-ha-ka_,--the\nkeepers of our life.\n\nThere are spirits in the water, in fire, in all the trees and berries,\nin herbs and in tobacco, in the grass. They assist the Great Spirit.\n\nAlways return thanks to _Ho-noh-che-noh-keh_, the Guardian Spirits.\n\n_Ha-ne-go-ate-geh_ has messengers. These are the spirits of disease,\nof fever, of witches, weeds, and murder. But the Great Spirit will keep\nthem away from his children.\n\nThis is the message I bring from the happy hunting-grounds. Obey these\nwords, and the Great Spirit will give you a place there.\"\n\nSo Peace Maker taught the people. They threw tobacco on the fire,\naccording to his instructions, and on the column of its smoke he was\nborne away to the happy hunting-grounds. And the people danced and sang\naround the dying embers of the council fire.\n\nThis is probably an ancient legend with a modern moral. The idea of an\nIndian Tyl Eulenspiegel going about the country making mischief recalls\na great part of the adventures of Hiawatha or Manobozho; in fact, it\ncould not fail to suggest itself to a believer in Shamanism, or pow-wow,\naccording to which evil spirits and men like them are continually\nteasing mankind, out of sheer malice. The reform of the wicked man,\nunder the influence of the \"Great Spirit,\" is of later days. I do not\nbelieve that the idea of a Great Spirit, in the sense in which it is\ngenerally used by Indians, or is attributed to them, was ever known\ntill learned from the whites. Nothing is more natural than that during\nthe two hundred years past intelligent Indians, who felt that there\nwere many evils in the old barbaric state, yet who were still under the\ninfluence of its myths and poetry, should have made up legends like\nthis purporting to be revelations. There is one of the kind given in\nthe Hiawatha Legend, as \"Eroneniera, an Indian visit to the Great\nSpirit,\" which bears on its face every mark of modern manufacture for a\npurpose. For these very reasons, however, the tale here given is of\ngreat interest to the impartial historian. I am indebted for it to the\nkindness of Colonel T. Wentworth Higginson. This is the only story in\nmy collection of which I cannot give the name and residence of the\noriginal Indian narrator.\n\nIn the first part we have in the _Mischief Maker_ the same\ncharacter or principle who appears as Lox, the Wolverine, the Raccoon,\nand Badger among the Wabanaki. The setting the blind women together by\nthe ears, and the dashing of hot pudding, soup, or water in their\nfaces, is another form of a Lox story, which occurs again in the\nKalevala. But the entire spirit of the tricks is that of Lox, as those\nof Lox are like those of Loki. The Rev. D. Moncure Conway once said to\nme, as Miss E. Robins has also said in an article in the Atlantic\nMonthly, that it is only in the Norse mythology that the Evil One, or\ndevil, is represented as growing up from or inspired solely by reckless\nwanton _mischief_,--the mischief of a bad boy or a monkey. But the\nvery same is as true of so much of a devil as there is in the Wabanaki\nmythology. It is as a grotesque shadow of Loki, but still it is his.\nThe Germans say the devil is God's ape; the Indian Lox is the Norse\ndevil's.\n\n\n\n\n_How Lox told a Lie._\n\n(Passamaquoddy.)\n\n\nLox had a brother, who had married a red squaw. When she was touched\nthe red color rubbed off. The brother kept this wife in a box.\n\nOne day, returning, the brother saw that Lox had red fingers. \"Aha!\" he\ncried, in a rage, \"you have taken my wife out of the box.\" But Lox\ndenied it, so that his brother believed him.\n\nThe next time the husband returned, Lox's fingers were again red. And\nagain he was accused, and once more he denied it. But as he swore with\nall his might that he was innocent, something, as if on the floor,\nlaughed, and said, \"You lie. I was with you; I helped you.\"\n\nLox thought it was his right foot. So he cut off the toes, and then the\nfoot, but the accusation continued. Thinking it was the other foot, he\ncut that off; yet as the testimony was continued, he found that it was\n_Taloose_, even he himself, the bodily offender in person,\ntestifying against his lying soul. So in a rage he struck himself such\na blow with his war-club that he fell dead. I cannot give in full all\nthe adventures of Lox. I may, however, observe one thing of great\nimportance. Lox, in these tales, is the Evil Principle, that is, a\ngiant by birth. His two feet in this story are male and female; they\ntalk as if they were human. In the Edda, a giant's two feet beget\ntogether a six-headed son (Vafthrudnismal):--\n\n  \"Foot with foot begot\n  Of that wise Jotun,\n  A six-headed son.\"\n\nThis six-headed son reappears as a demon in the Passamaquoddy tale of\nthe Three Strong Men.\n\n_Tuloose_, literally translated, is the phallus. The red squaw\nrefers to the Newfoundland Indians, covered with red ochre. They are\nbelieved to be now extinct.\n\n\n\n\nTHE AMAZING ADVENTURES OF MASTER RABBIT\n\nWITH THE OTTER, THE WOODPECKER GIRLS, AND MOOIN THE BEAR\n\nALSO A FULL ACCOUNT OF THE FAMOUS CHASE, IN WHICH HE FOOLED LUSIFEE,\nTHE WILD CAT\n\n_I. How Master Rabbit sought to rival Keeoony, the Otter_.\n\n\nOf old times, _Mahtigwess_, the Rabbit, who is called in the\nMicmac tongue _Ableegumooch_, lived with his grandmother, waiting\nfor better times; and truly he found it a hard matter in midwinter,\nwhen ice was on the river and snow was on the plain, to provide even\nfor his small household. And running through the forest one day he\nfound a lonely wigwam, and he that dwelt therein was _Keeoony_,\nthe Otter. The lodge was on the bank of a river, and a smooth road of\nice slanted from the door down to the water. And the Otter made him\nwelcome, and directed his housekeeper to get ready to cook; saying\nwhich, he took the hooks on which he was wont to string fish when he\nhad them, and went to fetch a mess for dinner. Placing himself on the\ntop of the slide, he coasted in and under the water, and then came out\nwith a great bunch of eels, which were soon cooked, and on which they\ndined.\n\n\"By my life,\" thought Master Rabbit, \"but that is an easy way of\ngetting a living! Truly these fishing-folk have fine fare, and cheap!\nCannot I, who am so clever, do as well as this mere Otter? Of course I\ncan. Why not?\" Thereupon he grew so confident of himself as to invite\nthe Otter to dine with him--_adamadusk ketkewop_--on the third day\nafter that, and so went home.\n\n\"Come on!\" he said to his grandmother the next morning; \"let us remove\nour wigwam down to the lake.\" So they removed; and he selected a site\nsuch as the Otter had chosen for his home, and the weather being cold\nhe made a road of ice, or a coast, down from his door to the water, and\nall was well. Then the guest came at the time set, and Rabbit, calling\nhis grandmother, bade her get ready to cook a dinner. \"But what am I to\ncook, grandson?\" inquired the old dame.\n\n\"Truly I will see to that,\" said he, and made him a _nabogun_, or\nstick to string eels. Then going to the ice path, he tried to slide\nlike one skilled in the art, but indeed with little luck, for be went\nfirst to the right side, then to the left, and so hitched and jumped\ntill he came to the water, where he went in with a bob backwards. And\nthis bad beginning had no better ending, since of all swimmers and\ndivers the Rabbit is the very worst, and this one was no better than\nhis brothers. The water was cold, he lost his breath, he struggled, and\nwas well-nigh drowned.\n\n\"But what on earth ails the fellow?\" said the Otter to the grandmother,\nwho was looking on in amazement.\n\n\"Well, he has seen somebody do something, and is trying to do likewise,\"\nreplied the old lady.\n\n\"Ho! come out of that now,\" cried the Otter, \"and hand me your\n_nabogun_!\" And the poor Rabbit, shivering with cold, and almost\nfrozen, came from the water and limped into the lodge. And there he\nrequired much nursing from his grandmother, while the Otter, plunging\ninto the stream, soon returned with a load of fish. But, disgusted at\nthe Rabbit for attempting what he could not perform, he threw them down\nas a gift, and went home without tasting the meal.\n\n\n\n\n_II. How Mahtigwess, the Rabbit dined with the Woodpecker Girls, and\nwas again humbled by trying to rival them._\n\n\nNow Master Rabbit, though disappointed, was not discouraged, for this\none virtue he had, that he never gave up. [Footnote: It will be seen in\nthe end that this great Indian virtue of never giving in eventually\nraised Rabbit to power and prosperity. _Il y a de morale ici_.]\nAnd wandering one day in the wilderness, he found a wigwam well filled\nwith young women, all wearing red head-dresses; and no wonder, for they\nwere Woodpeckers. Now, Master Rabbit was a well-bred Indian, who made\nhimself as a melody to all voices, and so he was cheerfully bidden to\nbide to dinner, which he did. Then one of the red-polled pretty girls,\ntaking a _woltes_, or wooden dish, lightly climbed a tree, so that\nshe seemed to run; and while ascending, stopping here and there and\ntapping now and then, took from this place and that many of those\ninsects called by the Indians _apchel-moal-timpkawal_, or rice,\nbecause they so much resemble it. And note that this rice is a dainty\ndish for those who like it. And when it was boiled, and they had dined,\nMaster Rabbit again reflected, \"La! how easily some folks live! What is\nto hinder me from doing the same? Ho, you girls! come over and dine\nwith me the day after to-morrow!\"\n\nAnd having accepted this invitation, all the guests came on the day\nset, when Master Rabbit undertook to play woodpecker. So having taken\nthe head of an eel-spear and fastened it to his nose to make a bill, he\nclimbed as well as he could--and bad was the best--up a tree, and tried\nto get his harvest of rice. Truly he got none; only in this did he\nsucceed in resembling a Woodpecker, that he had a red poll; for his\npate was all torn and bleeding, bruised by the fishing-point. And the\npretty birds all looked and laughed, and wondered what the Rabbit was\nabout.\n\n\"Ah!\" said his grandmother, \"I suppose he is trying again to do\nsomething which he has seen some one do. 'T is just like him.\"\n\n\"Oh, come down there!\" cried Miss Woodpecker, as well as she could for\nlaughing. \"Give me your dish!\" And having got it she scampered up the\ntrunk, and soon brought down a dinner. But it was long ere Master\nRabbit heard the last of it from these gay tree-tappers.\n\n\n\n\n_III. Of the Adventure with Mooin, the Bear; it being the Third and\nLast Time that Master Rabbit made a Fool of himself._\n\n\nNow, truly, one would think that after all that had befallen Master\n_Mahtigwess_, the Rabbit, that he would have had enough of trying\nother people's trades; but his nature was such that, having once set\nhis mighty mind to a thing, little short of sudden death would cure\nhim. And being one day with the Bear in his cave, he beheld with great\nwonder how _Mooin_ fed his folk. For, having put a great pot on\nthe fire, he did but cut a little slice from his own foot and drop it\ninto the boiling water, when it spread and grew into a mess of meat\nwhich served for all. [Footnote: Mr. Rand observes that this is\nevidently an allusion to the bear's being supposed to live during the\nwinter by sucking his own paws.] Nay, there was a great piece given to\nRabbit to take home to feed his family.\n\n\"Now, truly,\" he said, \"this is a thing which I can indeed do. Is it\nnot recorded in the family wampum that whatever a Bear can do well a\nRabbit can do better? \"So, in fine, he invited his friend to come and\ndine with him, _Ketkewopk'_, the day after to-morrow.\n\nAnd the Bear being there, Rabbit did but say, \"_Noogume' kuesawal'\nwohu_!\" \"Grandmother, set your pot to boiling!\" And, whetting his\nknife on a stone, he tried to do as the Bear had done; but little did\nhe get from his small, thin soles, though he cut himself madly and\nsadly.\n\n\"What can he be trying to do?\" growled the guest.\n\n\"Ah!\" sighed the grandmother, \"something which he has seen some one\nelse do.\"\n\n\"Ho! I say there! Give me the knife,\" quoth Bruin. And, getting it, he\ntook a slice from his sole, which did him no harm, and then, what with\nmagic and fire, gave them a good dinner. But Master Rabbit was in sad\ncase, and it was many a day ere he got well.\n\n\n\n\n_IV. Relating how the Rabbit became Wise by being Original, and of\nthe Terrible Tricks which he by Magic played Loup-Cervier, the Wicked\nWild Cat._\n\n\nThere are men who are bad at copying, yet are good originals, and of\nthis kind was Master Rabbit, who, when he gave up trying to do as\nothers did, succeeded very well. And, having found out his foible, he\napplied himself to become able in good earnest, and studied\n_m'teoulin_, or magic, so severely that in time he grew to be an\nawful conjurer, so that he could raise ghosts, crops, storms, or devils\nwhenever he wanted them. [Footnote: The three previous chapters of the\nRabbit legend are from the Micmac. The rest is Passamaquoddy, as told\nby Tomah Josephs, who in his narration not only often interpolated\njocose remarks, but was wont to ejaculate \"By Jolly!\" especially in the\nmost striking scenes. I think that with him the interjection had become\nrefined and dignified.] For he had perseverance, and out of this may\ncome anything, if it be only brought into the right road.\n\nNow it came to pass that Master Rabbit got into great trouble. The\nrecords of the Micmacs say that it was from his stealing a string of\nfish from the Otter, who pursued him; but the Passamaquoddies declare\nthat he was innocent of this evil deed, probably because they make\ngreat account of him as their ancestor and as the father of the\nWabanaki. Howbeit, this is the way in which they tell the tale.\n\nNow the Rabbit is the natural prey of the Loup-Cervier, or Lusifee, who\nis a kind of wild cat, none being more obstinate. And this Wild Cat\nonce went hunting with a gang of wolves, and they got nothing. Then\nWild Cat, who had made them great promises and acted as chief, became\nangry, and, thinking of the Rabbit, promised them that this time they\nshould indeed get their dinner. So he took them to Rabbit's wigwam; but\nhe was out, and the Wolves, being vexed and starved, reviled Wild Cat,\nand then rushed off howling through the woods.\n\nNow I think that the Rabbit is _m'teoulin_. Yes, he must be, for\nwhen Wild Cat started to hunt him alone, he determined with all his\nsoul not to be caught, and made himself as magical as he could. So he\npicked up a handful of chips, and threw one as far as possible, then\njumped to it,--for he had a charm for a long jump; and then threw\nanother, and so on, for a great distance. This was to make no tracks,\nand when he thought he had got out of scent and sight and sound he\nscampered away like the wind.\n\n[Illustration: THE RABBIT MAGICIAN.]\n\nNow, as I said, when the wolves got to Master Rabbit's house and found\nnothing, they smelt about and left Wild Cat, who swore by his tail that\nhe would catch Rabbit, if he had to hunt forever and run himself to\ndeath. So, taking the house for a centre, he kept going round and round\nit, all the time a little further, and so more around and still further.\n[Footnote: While telling this, Tomah described a spiral line. It is\nevident that if the volute were only continued long enough it must\ninevitably end in finding any trail, if the point of departure be only\nknown. This device is familiar to all Indians, and it is mentioned in\nother stories.] Then at last having found the track, he went in hot haste\nafter Mr. Rabbit. And both ran hard, till, night coming on, Rabbit, to\nprotect himself, had only just time _to trample down the snow a little,\nand stick up a spruce twig on end and sit on it_. But when Wild Cat\ncame up he found there a fine wigwam, and put his head in. All that he\nsaw was an old man of very grave and dignified appearance, whose hair\nwas gray, and whose majestic (_sogmoye_) appearance was heightened\nby a pair of long and venerable ears. And of him Wild Cat asked in a\ngasping hurry if he had seen a Rabbit running that way.\n\n\"Rabbits!\" replied the old man. \"Why, of course I have seen many. They\nabound in the woods about here. I see dozens of them every day.\" With\nthis he said kindly to Wild Cat that he had better tarry with him for a\ntime. \"I am an old man,\" he remarked with solemnity,--\"an old man,\nliving alone, and a respectable guest, like you, sir, comes to me like\na blessing.\" And the Cat, greatly impressed, remained. After a good\nsupper he lay down by the fire, and, having run all day, was at once\nasleep, and made but one nap of it till morning. But how astonished,\nand oh, how miserable he was, when he awoke, to find himself on the\nopen heath in the snow and almost starved! The wind blew as if it had a\nkeen will to kill him; it seemed to go all through his body. Then he\nsaw that he had been a fool and cheated by magic, and in a rage swore\nagain by his teeth, as well as his tail, that the Rabbit should die.\nThere was no hut now, only the trampled snow and a spruce twig, and yet\nout of this little, Rabbit had conjured up so great a delusion.\n\nThen he ran again all day. And when night came, Master Rabbit, having a\nlittle more time than before, again trampled down the snow, but for a\ngreater space, and strewed many branches all about, for now a huge\neffort was to be made. And when Wild Cat got there he found a great\nIndian village, with crowds of people going to and fro. The first\nbuilding he saw was a church, in which service was being held. And he,\nentering, said hastily to the first person he saw, \"Ha! ho! have you\nseen a Rabbit running by here?\"\n\n\"Hush--sh, sh!\" replied the man. \"You must wait till meeting is over\nbefore asking such questions.\" [Footnote: Though this story is very\nold, the incident of the church (_sogmoye wigwam_, or chief house)\nis manifestly modern.] Then a young man beckoned to him to come in, and\nhe listened till the end to a long sermon on the wickedness of being\nvindictive and rapacious; and the preacher was a gray ancient, and his\nears stood up over his little cap like the two handles of a pitcher,\nyet for all that the Wild Cat's heart was not moved one whit. And when\nit was all at an end he said to the obliging young man, \"But\n_have_ you seen a Rabbit running by?\"\n\n\"Rabbits! Rabbits!\" replied the young man. \"Why, there are hundreds\nracing about in the cedar swamps near this place, and you can have as\nmany as you want.\" \"Ah!\" replied Wild Cat, \"but they are not what I\nseek. Mine is an entirely different kind.\" The other said that he knew\nof no sort save the wild wood-rabbits, but that perhaps their Governor,\nor Chief, who was very wise, could tell him all about them. Then the\nGovernor, or Sagamore, came up. Like the preacher, he was very\nremarkable and gray, with the long locks standing up one on either side\nof his head. And he invited the stranger to his house, where his two\nvery beautiful daughters cooked him a fine supper. And when he wished\nto retire they brought out blankets and a beautiful _white bear's\nskin_, and made up a bed for him by the fire. Truly, his eyes were\nclosed as soon as he lay down, but when he awoke there had been a great\nchange. For now he was in a wet cedar swamp, the wind blowing ten times\nworse than ever, and his supper and sleep had done him little good, for\nthey were all a delusion. All around him were rabbits' tracks and\nbroken twigs, but nothing more.\n\nYet he sprang up, more enraged than ever, and swearing more terribly by\nhis tail, teeth, and claws that he would be revenged. So he ran on all\nday, and at night, when he came to another large village, he was so\nweary that he could just gasp, \"Have--you--seen a Rab--bit run this\nway?\" With much concern and kindness they all asked him what was the\nmatter. So he told them all this story, and they pitied him very much;\nyea, one gray old man,--and this was the Chief,--with two beautiful\ndaughters, shed tears and comforted him, and advised him to stay with\nthem. So they took him to a large hall, where there was a great fire\nburning in the middle thereof. And over it hung two pots with soup and\nmeat, and two Indians stood by and gave food to all the people. And he\nhad his share with the rest, and all feasted gayly.\n\nNow, when they had done eating, the old Governor, who was very gray,\nand from either side of whose head rose two very venerable, long white\nfeathers, rose to welcome the stranger, and in a long speech said it\nwas, indeed, the custom of their village to entertain guests, but that\nthey expected from them a song. Then Wild Cat, who was vain of his\nvoice, uplifted it in vengeance against the Rabbits:--\n\n  \"Oh, how I hate them!\n  How I despise them!\n  How I laugh at them!\n  May I scalp them all!\"\n\nThen he said that he thought the Governor should sing. And to this the\nChief consented, but declared that all who were present should bow\ntheir heads while seated, and shut their eyes, which they did. Then\nChief Rabbit, at one bound, cleared the heads of his guests, and\ndrawing his _timheyen_, or tomahawk, as he jumped, gave Wild Cat a\nwound which cut deeply into his head, and only fell short of killing\nhim by entirely stunning him. When he recovered, he was again in snow,\nslush, and filth, more starved than ever, his head bleeding from a\ndreadful blow, and he himself almost dead. Yet, with all that, the\nIndian devil was stronger in him than ever, for every new disgrace did\nbut bring more resolve to be revenged, and he swore it by his tail,\nclaws, teeth, and eyes.\n\nSo he tottered along, though he could hardly walk; nor could he,\nindeed, go very far that day. And when, almost broken down with pain\nand weariness, he came about noon to two good wigwams. Looking into\none, he saw a gray-haired old man, and in the other a young girl,\napparently his daughter. And they received him kindly, and listened to\nhis story, saying it was very sad, the old man declaring that he must\nreally remain there, and that he would get him a doctor, since, unless\nhe were well cared for at once, he would die. Then he went forth as if\nin great concern, leaving his daughter to nurse the weary, wounded\nstranger.\n\nNow, when the Doctor came, he, too, was an old gray man, with a\nscalp-lock strangely divided like two horns. But the Wild Cat had\nbecome a little suspicious, having been so often deceived, for much\nabuse will cease to amuse even the most innocent; and truly he was\nnone of these. And, looking grimly at the Doctor, [Footnote: This\ncross-examination of the Doctor is taken from an Abenaki version,\nnarrated by a St. Francis Indian to Miss Alger. This Indian is the\nwell-known Josep Cappino.] he said: \"I was asking if any Rabbits are\nhere, and truly you look very much like one yourself. How did you get\nthat split nose?\" \"Oh, that is very simple,\" replied the old man. \"Once\nI was hammering wampum beads, and the stone on which I beat them broke\nin halves, and one piece flew up, and, as you see, split my nose.\"\n\"But,\" persisted the Wild Cat, \"why are the soles of your feet so yellow,\neven like a Rabbit's?\" \"Ah, that is because I have been preparing some\ntobacco, and I had to hold it down with my feet, for, truly, I needed\nboth my hands to work with. So the tobacco stained them yellow.\" Then\nthe Wild Cat suspected no more, and the Doctor put salve on his wound,\nso that he felt much better, and, ere he departed, put by him a platter\nof very delicate little round biscuits, or rolls, and a beautiful pitcher\nfull of nice wine, and bade him refresh himself from these during the\nnight, and so, stealing away softly, he departed.\n\nBut oh, the wretchedness of the awaking in the morning! For then Wild\nCat found himself indeed in the extreme of misery. His head was swollen\nand aching to an incredible degree, and the horrible wound, which was\ngaping wide, had been stuffed with hemlock needles and pine splinters,\nand this was the cool salve which the Doctor had applied. And as a last\ntouch to his rage and shame, thinking in his deadly thirst of the wine,\nhe beheld on the ground, still left in the snow, a last summer's\npitcher-plant, half full of what might indeed pass for wine by the mere\nsight thereof, though hardly to the taste. While seeking for the\nbiscuits on a platter, he found only certain small pellets, such as\nabound about a rabbit warren. And then he swore by all his body and\nsoul that he would slay the next being he met, Rabbit or Indian. Verily\nthis time he would be utterly revenged.\n\nNow Mahtigwess, the Rabbit, had almost come to an end of his\n_m'teoulin_, or wizard power, for that time, yet he had still\nenough left for one more great effort. And, coming to a lake, he picked\nup a very large chip, and having seamed it with sorcery and magnified\nit by magic threw it into the water, where it at once seemed to be a\ngreat ship, such as white men build. And when the Wild Cat came up he\nsaw it, with sails spread and flags flying, and the captain stood so\nstately on the deck, with folded arms, and he was a fine, gray-haired,\ndignified man, with a cocked hat, the two points of which were like\ngrand and stately horns. But the Wild Cat had sworn, and he was mindful\nof his great oath; so he cried, \"You cannot escape me this time,\nRabbit! I have you now!\" Saying this he plunged in, and tried to swim\nto the ship. And the captain, seeing a Wild Cat in the water, being\nengaged in musket drill, ordered his men to fire at it, which they did\nwith a bang! Now this was caused by a party of night-hawks overhead,\nwho swooped down with a sudden cry like a shot; at least it seemed so\nto Wild Cat, who, deceived and appalled by this volley, deeming that he\nhad verily made a mistake this time, turned, tail and swam ashore into\nthe dark old forest, where, if he is not dead, he is running still.\n[Footnote: This expression, very common among the Indians, appears to\nhave been taken from the Canadians, _Il court encore_ ends many of\ntheir stories. This was related to me by Tomah Josephs, September 2,\n1882. I have four versions of it. In one, the Chippewa, given by\nSchoolcraft, the wretched efforts to rival the woodpeckers and bear are\nattributed to a no less personage than Hiawatha, or Manobozho, himself,\nwhen under a cloud. But Hiawatha as a poem deals only with the better\npart of the hero's character. In the Rand manuscript, the most amusing\nportion of the adventures of the Rabbit, or those with the Wild Cat,\nare much abbreviated. Tomah's tale supplies this missing portion, but\nconsists of nothing else. The Abenaki tale is slightly different in its\nbeginning: \"Rabbit was making maple-sugar in the woods, but he was very\npious, and rested on the Sabbath. While praying on this day by his\nhearth, there came a great black fierce man, who glared at him, but\nMahtigwess kept saying 'Peace! peace! peace!' for that is the way the\nRabbit prays. Then the stranger was angry because he would not cease\npraying and talk to him, but the Rabbit said, 'Would you have me break\nthe Sabbath?' Then he went and brought the stranger, who was a Wild\nCat, refreshments.\" These refreshments were the same as those given by\nthe Doctor. Here the chase begins.\n\nThere is probably much more of this story.]\n\n\n\n\n_V. How Master Rabbit went to a Wedding and won the Bride._\n\n(Passamaquoddy.)\n\n\nChee mahtigwess, or the Great Rabbit, was once very stout or large of\nbody, having a very long tail. And one day in the old times, as he sat\non the rock, with his fine long tail trailing afar into the bushes, an\nold man came by who asked the way. And Master Rabbit, being as usual\nobliging, offered to show it to him. So they talked together and grew\nintimate, but as the old man went very slowly, while Rabbit was always\nrunning, he said, \"Go on before, and I will follow.\" So the guide was\nsoon out of sight, and then the old man, hurrying without heeding, fell\ndown into a deep pit or chasm, where he cried out aloud for help, but\nwas not heard. After a time, Rabbit, missing his follower, turned back\nand tracked him till he found the pit. Yet they could not between them\nmanage to bring the traveler up again, until Rabbit said, \"Catch hold\nof my tail;\" and when this was done he gave a jump, but alas! the fine\ntail broke off short within an inch of the root.\n\nOne would think that by this time Master Rabbit must have had enough of\nhelping, but all the stories of him show that he never gave up anything\nwhich he had once begun. So he simply said to the old man, \"Catch hold\nof me round the waist;\" and when this was done he gave another leap,\nand brought the prisoner out. But the man, being heavy, had slipped\ndown, and almost broken Rabbit's back. So it came to pass that since\nthat day Master Rabbit has had a very short tail and a slender waist.\n\nThe old man was on his way to marry a young girl. But she was in love\nwith Mikumwess, the forest fairy. However, the old man married her, and\ninvited Master Rabbit to the dance, which in old times made the\nceremony. And the guest dressed for the occasion by putting ear-rings\non his heels--for Rabbits or Hares dance on their tip-toes--and a\nbeautiful bangle round his neck, and he danced opposite the bride. Now\nthe bride had on only a very short skirt, and in crossing a brook it\nhad got wet. So that as she danced, it began to shrink and shrink,\nuntil Master Rabbit, pitying the poor girl, ran out and got a deer-skin,\nand hastily twisted a cord to tie it with. But it seemed as if Master\nRabbit's efforts to oblige people always got him into trouble, for he\ntwisted this string so rapidly and earnestly, holding one end of it in\nhis teeth as he did so, that he cut his upper lip through to the nose,\nfor which reason his descendants all have hare-lips to this day.\n\nNow having dressed the bride, she was so grateful to Rabbit that she\ndanced with him all the night. The old man, seeing this, was so angry\nat her fickleness that, without saying a word, he walked away, and left\nher to Mahtigwess, with whom she lived very happily until she ran away\nwith Mikumwess; with whom, if she has not run away again, she is living\nyet. This story is at an end.\n\n\n\n\n_VI. How Master Rabbit gave himself Airs._\n\n(Micmac.)\n\n\nIt happened once that Lox was living in great luxury. He had a wigwam\nfull of hundreds of dried sea-ducks, moose meat, maple sugar, and corn.\nHe gave a dinner, and among the guests invited Marten and Mahtigwess,\nthe Rabbit.\n\nNow it is a great weakness of Master Rabbit that he is much given to\nhinting at one minute, and saying pretty plainly the next, that he has\nbeen in better society than that around him, and has lived among great\npeople, and no one was quicker than the Marten to find out that wherein\nany one was foolish or feeble. So when Master Rabbit, smoothing down\nhis white fur, said it was the only kind of a coat worn by the\naristocracy, Marten humbly inquired, \"if that were so, how he came by\nit.\"\n\n\"It shows,\" replied Master Rabbit, \"that I have habitually kept company\nwith gentlemen.\"\n\n\"How did you get that slit in your lip?\" inquired Marten, who knew very\nwell what this Indian really was.\n\n\"Ah!\" replied the Rabbit, \"where _I_ live they use knives and\nforks. And one day, while eating with some great sagamores, my knife\nslipped, and I cut my lip.\"\n\n\"And why are your mouth and whiskers always going when you are still?\nIs that high style?\"\n\n\"Yes; I am meditating, planning, combining great affairs; talking to\nmyself, you see. That's the way _we_ do.\"\n\n\"But why do you always hop? Why don't you sometimes walk, like other\npeople?\"\n\n\"Ah, that's _our_ style. We gentlemen don't run, like the vulgar.\n_We_ have a gait of our own, don't you know?\"\n\n\"Indeed! Well, if you don't mind a question, I would like to know why\nyou always scamper away so suddenly, and jump so far and so rapidly\nwhen you run.\"\n\n\"Aw! don't you know? I used to be employed in very genteel business;\npublic service,--in fact, diplomatic. I carried dispatches\n(_weegadigunn_, Micmac; _wighiggin_, Pass.)--books, letters,\npapers, and so I got in the way of moving nimbly. Now it comes\nnaturally to me. One of my old aristocratic habits.\" [Footnote: This\ndroll dialogue occurs in the middle of the Micmac story of Lox, or\nBadger, and the Ducks and Bear, where it evidently does not belong, or\nhas been interpolated to make length. In the original, Marten carries\nhis inquiries much further into certain physiological details, all of\nwhich Master Rabbit naively explains as the result of the delicate diet\nand the wine to which he as a gentleman had been accustomed.]\n\nUpon this Marten gave it up. He had seen something of good society\nhimself, as he lived habitually with Glooskap, but Master Rabbit was\ntoo much for him.\n\n\n\n\n_VII. The Young Man who was Saved by a Rabbit and a Fox._\n\n(Passamaquoddy.)\n\n\nThere dwelt a couple in the woods, far away from other people,--a man\nand his wife. They had one boy, who grew up strong and clever. One day\nhe said, \"Father and mother, let me go and see other men and women.\"\nThey grieved, but let him go.\n\nHe went afar. All night he lay on the ground. In the morning he heard\nsomething coming. He rose and saw it was a Rabbit, who said, \"Ha,\nfriend, where go you?\" The boy answered, \"To find people.\" \"That is\nwhat I want,\" replied the Rabbit. \"Let us go together.\"\n\nSo they went on for a long time, till they heard voices far off, and\nwalking quietly came to a village. \"Now,\" said the Rabbit, \"steal up\nunseen, and listen to them!\" The boy did so, and heard the people\nsaying that a _kewahqu'_, a cannibal monster, was to come the next\nday to devour the daughter of their sagamore. And having returned and\nreported this to the Rabbit, the latter said to the boy, \"Have no fear;\ngo to the people and tell them that you can save her.\" He did so, but\nit was long before they would listen to him. Yet at last it came to the\nears of the old chief that a strange young man insisted that he could\nsave the girl; so the chief sent for him, and said, \"They tell me that\nyou think you can deliver my daughter from death. Do so, and she shall\nbe yours.\"\n\nThen he returned to the Rabbit, who said, \"They did not send the girl\nfar away because they know that the demon can follow any track. But I\nhope to make a track which he cannot follow. Now do you, as soon as it\nshall be dark, bring her to this place.\" The young man did so, and the\nRabbit was there with a sled, and in his hand he had two squirrels.\nThese he smoothed down, and as he did so they grew to be as large as\nthe largest sled-dogs. Then all three went headlong, like the wind,\ntill they came to another village.\n\nThe Rabbit looked about till he found a certain wigwam, and then peered\nthrough a crevice into it. \"This is the place,\" he said. \"Enter.\" They\ndid so; then the Rabbit ran away. They found in the cabin an old woman,\nwho was very kind, but who, on seeing them, burst into tears. \"Ah, my\ndear grandchildren,\" [Footnote: The terms grandchildren, grandmother,\netc., do not here signify actual relationship, but only friendship\nbetween elderly and young people.] she cried, \"your death is following\nyou rapidly, for the kewahqu' is on your track, and will soon be here.\nBut run down to the river, where you will find your grandfather\ncamping.\"\n\nThey went, and were joined by the Rabbit, who had spent the time in\nmaking many divergent tracks in the ground. The kewahqu' came. The\ntracks delayed him a long time, but at last he found the right one.\nMeanwhile the young couple went on, and found an old man by the river.\nHe said, \"Truly you are in great danger, for the kewahqu' is coming.\nBut I will help you.\" Saying this, he threw himself into the water,\nwhere he floated with outstretched limbs, and said, \"Now, my children,\nget on me.\" The girl feared lest she should fall off, but being\nreassured mounted, when he turned into a canoe, which carried them\nsafely across. But when they turned to look at him, lo! he was no\nlonger a canoe, but an old Duck. \"Now, my dear children,\" he said,\n\"hasten to the top of yonder old mountain, high among the gray rocks.\nThere you will find your friend.\" They fled, to the old gray mountain.\nThe kewahqu' came raging and roaring in a fury, but however he pursued\nthey were at the foot of the precipice before him.\n\nThere stood the Rabbit. He was holding up a very long pole; no pine was\never longer. \"Climb this,\" he said. And, as they climbed, it\nlengthened, till they left it for the hill, and then scrambled up the\nrocks. Then the kewahqu' came yelling and howling horribly. Seeing the\nfugitives far above, he swarmed up the pole. With him, too, it grew,\nand grew rapidly, till it seemed to be half a mile high. Now the\nkewahqu' was no such sorcerer that he could fly; neither had he wings;\nhe must remain on the pole; and when he came to the top the young man\npushed it afar. It fell, and the monster was killed by the fall\nthereof.\n\nThey went with the squirrel-sledge; they flew through the woods on the\nsnow by the moonlight; they were very glad. And at last they came to\nthe girl's village, when the Rabbit said, \"Now, friend, good-by. Yet\nthere is more trouble coming, and when it is with you I and mine will\naid you. So farewell.\" And when they were home again it all appeared\nlike a dream. Then the wedding feast was held, and all seemed well.\n\nBut the young men of the village hated the youth, and desired to kill\nhim, that they might take his wife. They persuaded him to go with them\nfishing on the sea. Then they raised a cry, and said, \"A whale is\nchasing us! he is under the canoe!\" and suddenly they knocked him\noverboard, and paddled away like an arrow in flight.\n\nThe young man called for help. A Crow came, and said, \"Swim or float as\nlong as you can. I will bring you aid.\" He floated a long time. The\nCrow returned with a strong cord; the Crow made himself very large; he\nthrew one end of the cord to the youth; by the other he towed him to a\nsmall island. \"I can do no more,\" he said; \"but there is another\nfriend.\" So as the youth sat there, starving and freezing, there came\nto him a Fox. \"Ha, friend,\" he said, \"are you here?\" \"Yes,\" replied the\nyouth, \"and dying of hunger.\" The Fox reflected an instant, and said,\n\"Truly I have no meat; and yet there is a way.\" So he picked from the\nground a blade of dry grass, and bade the youth eat it. He did so, and\nfound himself a moose (or a _horse_). Then he fed richly on the\nyoung grass till he had enough, when the Fox gave him a second straw,\nand he became a man again. \"Friend,\" said the Fox, \"there is an Indian\nvillage on the main-land, where there is to be a great feast, a grand\ndance. Would you like to be there?\" \"Indeed I would,\" replied the\nyouth. \"Then wait till dark, and I will take you there,\" said the Fox.\nAnd when night came he bade the youth close his eyes and enter the\nriver, and take hold of the end of his tail, while he should draw. So\nin the tossing sea they went on for hours. _Thought_ the youth,\n\"We shall never get there.\" _Said_ the Fox, \"Yes, we will, but\nkeep your eyes shut.\" So it went on for another hour, when the youth\n_thought_ again, \"We shall never reach land.\" _Said_ the Fox,\n\"Yes, we shall.\" However, after a time he opened his eyes, when they\nwere only ten feet from the shore, and this cost them more time and\ntrouble than all the previous swim ere they had the beach under foot.\n\nIt was his own village. The festival was for the marriage of his own\nwife to one of the young men who had pushed him overboard. Great was\nhis magic power, great was his anger; he became strong as death. Then\nhe went to his own wigwam, and his wife, seeing him, cried aloud for\njoy, and kissed him and wept all at once. He said, \"Be glad, but the\nhour of punishment for the men who made these tears is come.\" So he\nwent to the sagamore and told him all.\n\nThe old chief called for the young men. \"Slay them all as you choose,\"\nhe said to his son-in-law; \"scalp them.\" But the youth refused. He\ncalled to the Fox, and got the straws which gave the power to transform\nmen to beasts. He changed his enemies into bad animals,--one into a\nporcupine, one into a hog,--and they were driven into the woods. Thus\nit was that the first hog and the first porcupine came into the world.\n\nThis story, narrated by Tomah Josephs, is partly old Indian and partly\nEuropean, but whether the latter element was derived from a French\nCanadian or a Norse source I cannot tell, since it is common to both.\nThe mention of the horse and the hog, or of cattle, does not prove that\na story is not pre-Columbian. The Norsemen had brought cattle of\nvarious descriptions even to New England. It is to be very much\nregretted that the first settlers in New England took no pains to\nascertain what the Indians knew of the white men who had preceded them.\nBut modern material may have easily been added to an old legend.\n\n\n\n\nTHE CHENOO LEGENDS.\n\n_I. The Chenoo, or the Story of a Cannibal with an Icy Heart._\n\n(Micmac and Passamaquoddy.)\n\n\nOf the old time. An Indian, with his wife and their little boy, went\none autumn far away to hunt in the northwest. And having found a fit\nplace to pass the winter, they built a wigwam. The man brought home the\ngame, the woman dressed and dried the meat, the small boy played about\nshooting birds with bow and arrow; in Indian-wise all went well.\n\nOne afternoon, when the man was away and the wife gathering wood, she\nheard a rustling in the bushes, as though some beast were brushing\nthrough them, and, looking up, she saw with horror something worse than\nthe worst she had feared. It was an awful face glaring at her,--a\nsomething made of devil, man, and beast in their most dreadful, forms.\nIt was like a haggard old man, with wolfish eyes; he was stark naked;\nhis shoulders and lips were gnawed away, as if, when mad with hunger,\nhe had eaten his own flesh. He carried a bundle on big back. The woman\nhad heard of the terrible Chenoo, the being who comes from the far, icy\nnorth, a creature who is a man grown to be both devil and cannibal, and\nsaw at once that this was one of them.\n\nTruly she was in trouble; but dire need gives quick wit, as it was with\nthis woman, who, instead of showing fear, ran up and addressed him with\nfair words, as \"My dear father,\" pretending surprise and joy, and,\ntelling him how glad her heart was, asked where he had been so long.\nThe Chenoo was amazed beyond measure at such a greeting where he\nexpected yells and prayers, and in mute wonder let himself be led into\nthe wigwam.\n\nShe was a wise and good woman. She took him in; she said she was sorry\nto see him so woe-begone; she pitied his sad state; she brought a suit\nof her husband's clothes; she told him to dress himself and be cleaned.\nHe did as she bade. He sat by the side of the wigwam, and looked surly\nand sad, but kept quiet. It was all a new thing to him.\n\nShe arose and went out. She kept gathering sticks. The Chenoo rose and\nfollowed her. She was in great fear. \"Now,\" she thought, \"my death is\nnear; now he will kill and devour me.\"\n\nThe Chenoo came to her. He said, \"Give me the axe!\" She gave it, and he\nbegan to cut down the trees. Man never saw such chopping! The great\npines fell right and left, like summer saplings; the boughs were hewed\nand split as if by a tempest. She cried out, \"_Noo, tabeagul\nboohsoogul_!\" \"My father, there is enough!\" [Footnote: The\ntremendous pine chopper is a character in another Indian tale.] He laid\ndown the axe; he walked into the wigwam and sat down, always in grim\nsilence. The woman gathered her wood, and remained as silent on the\nopposite side.\n\nShe heard her husband coming. She ran out and told him all. She asked\nhim to do as she was doing. He thought it well. He went in and spoke\nkindly. He said, \"_N'chilch_,\" \"My father-in-law,\" and asked where\nhe had been so long. The Chenoo stared in amazement, but when he heard\nthe man talk of all that had happened for years his fierce face grew\ngentler.\n\nThey had their meal; they offered him food, but he hardly touched it.\nHe lay down to sleep. The man and his wife kept awake in terror. When\nthe fire burned up, and it became warm, the Chenoo asked that a screen\nshould be placed before him. He was from the ice; he could not endure\nheat.\n\nFor three days he stayed in the wigwam; for three days he was sullen\nand grim; he hardly ate. Then he seemed to change. He spoke to the\nwoman; he asked her if she had any tallow. She told him they had much.\nHe filled a large kettle; there was a gallon of it. He put it on the\nfire. When it was scalding hot he drank it all off at a draught.\n\nHe became sick; he grew pale. He cast up all the horrors and\nabominations of earth, things appalling to every sense. When all was\nover he seemed changed. [Footnote: The Chenoo is not only a cannibal,\nbut a ghoul. He preys on nameless horrors. In this case, \"having\nyielded to the power of kindness, he has made up his mind to partake of\nthe food and hospitality of his hosts,\"\" to change his life; but to\nadapt his system to the new regimen, he must thoroughly clear it of the\nold.\"--Rand manuscript. This is a very _naive_ and curious Indian\nconception of moral reformation. It appears to be a very ancient Eskimo\ntale, recast in modern time by some zealous recent Christian convert.]\n\nHe lay down and slept. When he awoke he asked for food, and ate much.\nFrom that time he was kind and good. They feared him no more.\n\nThey lived on meat such as Indians prepare. [Footnote: That is, cured,\ndried, smoked, and then packed and pressed in large blocks.] The Chenoo\nwas tired of it. One day he said, \"_N'toos_\" (my daughter), \"have\nyou no _pela weoos_?\" (fresh meat). She said, \"No.\" When her husband\nreturned the Chenoo saw that there was black mud on his snow-shoes. He\nasked him if there was a spring of water near. The friend said there was\none half a day's journey distant. \"We must go there to-morrow,\" said the\nChenoo.\n\nAnd they went together, very early. The Indian was fleet in such running.\nBut the old man, who seemed so wasted and worn, went on his snow-shoes\nlike the wind. They came to the spring. [Footnote: \"The Micmacs have two\nwords for a spring of water: one for summer, _utkuboh_, which means\nthat the water is cool; the other for winter, _keesoobok_, indicating\nthat it is warm.\"--S.T. Rand.] It was large and beautiful; the snow was\nall melted away around it; the border was flat and green. [Footnote: Not\nuncommon round warm springs even in midwinter, and among ice and snow.]\n\n[Illustration: THE CHENOO AND THE LIZARD.]\n\nThen the Chenoo stripped himself, and danced around the spring his\nmagic dance; and soon the water began to foam, and anon to rise and\nfall, as if some monster below were heaving in accord with the steps\nand the song. The Chenoo danced faster and wilder; then the head of an\nimmense _Taktalok_, or lizard, rose above the surface. The old man\nkilled it with a blow of his hatchet. Dragging it out he began again to\ndance. He brought out another, the female, not so large, but still\nheavy as an elk. They were small spring lizards, but the Chenook had\nconjured them; by his magic they were made into monsters.\n\nHe dressed the game; he cut it up. He took the heads and feet and tails\nand all that he did not want, and cast them back into the spring. \"They\nwill grow again into many lizards,\" he said. When the meat was trimmed\nit looked like that of the bear. He bound it together with withes; he\ntook it on his shoulders; he ran like the wind; his load was nothing.\n\nThe Indian was a great runner; in all the land was not his like; but\nnow he lagged far behind. \"Can you go no faster than that?\" asked the\nChenoo. \"The sun is setting; the red will be black anon. At this rate\nit will be dark ere we get home. Get on my shoulders.\"\n\nThe Indian mounted on the load. The Chenoo bade him hold his head low,\nso that he could not be knocked off by the branches. \"Brace your feet,\"\nhe said, \"so as to be steady.\" Then the old man flew like the wind,--\n_ne[original illegible] sokano'v'jal samastukteskugul chel wegwasumug\nwegul_; the bushes whistled as they flew past them. They got home\nbefore sunset.\n\nThe wife was afraid to touch such meat. [Footnote: \"The Indians are\nmuch less particular than white men as to food, but they avoid\n_choojeeck_, or reptiles.\"--Rand manuscript.] But her husband was\npersuaded to eat of it. It was like bear's meat. The Chenoo fed on it.\nSo they all lived as friends.\n\nThen the spring was at hand. One day the Chenoo told them that\nsomething terrible would soon come to pass. An enemy, a Chenoo, a woman\nwas coming like wind, yes--on the wind--from the north to kill him.\nThere could be no escape from the battle. She would be far more\nfurious, mad, and cruel than any male, even one of his own cruel race,\ncould be. He knew not how the battle would end; but the man and his\nwife must be put in a place of safety. To keep from hearing the\nterrible war-whoops of the Chenoo, which is death to mortals, their\nears must be closed. They must hide themselves in a cave.\n\nThen he sent the woman for the bundle which he had brought with him,\nand which had hung untouched on a branch of a tree since he had been\nwith them. And he said if she found aught in it offensive to her to\nthrow it away, but to certainly bring him a smaller bundle which was\nwithin the other. So she went and opened it, and that which she found\ntherein was a pair of human legs and feet, the remains of some earlier\nhorrid meal. She threw them far away. The small bundle she brought to\nhim.\n\nThe Chenoo opened it and took from it a pair of horns,--horns of the\n_chepitchcalm_, or dragon. One of them has two branches; the other\nis straight and smooth. [Footnote: In the winter of 1882-1883, Tomah\nJosephs killed a deer whose horns were precisely like those of the\nchepitchcalm as regarded shape.] They were golden-bright. He gave the\nstraight horn to the Indian; he kept the other. He said that these were\nmagical weapons, and the only ones of any use in the coming fight. So\nthey waited for the foe.\n\nAnd the third day came. The Chenoo was fierce and bold; he listened; he\nhad no fear. He heard the long and awful scream--like nothing of earth--of\nthe enemy, as she sped through the air far away in the icy north,\nlong ere the others could hear it. And the manner of it was this: that\nif they without harm should live after hearing the first deadly yell of\nthe enemy they could take no harm, and if they did but hear the\nanswering shout of their friend all would be well with them. [Footnote:\nIn all this we clearly perceive the horrible scream of the\n_angakok_, or Eskimo Shaman, trained through years and generations\nto utter sounds which terrify even brave men.] But he said, \"Should you\nhear me call for help, then hasten with the horn, and you may save my\nlife.\"\n\nThey did as he bade: they stopped their ears; they hid in a deep hole\ndug in the ground. All at once the cry of the foe burst on them like\nscreaming thunder; their ears rang with pain: they were well-nigh\nkilled, for all the care they had taken. But then they heard the\nanswering cry of their friend, and were no longer in danger from mere\nnoise.\n\nThe battle begun, the fight was fearful. The monsters, by their magic\nwith their rage, rose to the size of mountains. The tall pines were\ntorn up, the ground trembled as in an earthquake, rocks crashed upon\nrocks, the conflict deepened and darkened; no tempest was ever so\nterrible. Then the male Chenoo was heard crying: \"_N'loosook!\nchoogooye! abog unumooe!_\" \"My son-in-law, come and help me!\"\n\nHe ran to the fight. What he saw was terrible! The Chenoos, who upright\nwould have risen far above the clouds as giants of hideous form, were\nstruggling on the ground. The female seemed to be the conqueror. She\nwas holding her foe down, she knelt on him, she was doing all she could\nto thrust her dragon's horn into his ear. And he, to avoid death, was\nmoving his head rapidly from side to side, while she, mocking his cries,\nsaid, \"You have no son-in-law to help you.\" _Neen nabujjeole_,\n\"I'll take your cursed life, [Footnote: It is generally said that there\ncan be no swearing in Indian, but Mr. Rand corrects this gross error.\n\"It is a mistake,\" he writes, \"to suppose that the red man cannot swear\nin his own tongue.\" It cannot, of course, be expected that simple savages\ncan swear like cultivated Christians, but they do the best they can. They\nintroduce the venom into their speech by inserting an extra syllable.\nThus _nabole_ or _nabol'_ means, \"I will kill you,\" but\n_nabujeol'_ is the equivalent of \"I'll take your cursed life,\"\nthough it has not that literal meaning. Having only one small syllable\nto swear with, the Indians are, however, not so profuse and wasteful of\nprofanity as their more gifted and pious white brethren.] and, eat your\nliver.\"\n\n The Indian was so small by these giants that the stranger did not\nnotice him. \"Now,\" said his friend, \"thrust the horn into her ear!\" He\ndid this with a well-directed blow; he struck hard; the point entered\nher head. At the touch it sprouted quick as a flash of lightning, it\ndarted through the head, it came out of the other ear, it had become\nlike a long pole. It touched the ground, it struck downward, it took\ndeep and firm root.\n\nThe male Chenoo bade him raise the other end of the horn and place it\nagainst a large tree. He did so. It coiled itself round the tree like a\nsnake, it grew rapidly; the enemy was held hard and fast. Then the two\nbegan to dispatch her. It was long and weary work. Such a being, to be\nkilled at all, must be hewed into small pieces; flesh and bones must\nall be utterly consumed by fire. Should the least fragment remain\nunburnt, from it would spring a grown Chenoo, with all the force and\nfire of the first. [Footnote: The idea is common to both Eskimo and\nIndian that so long as a fragment of a body remains unburned, the\nbeing, man or beast, may, by magic, be revived from it. It was probably\nsuggested by observing the great vitality and power of self-production\ninherent in many lower forms of life, and may have given rise to the\nbelief in vampires.]\n\nThe fury of battle past, the Chenoos had become of their usual size.\nThe victor hewed the enemy to small pieces, to be revenged for the\ninsult and threat as to eating his liver. He, having roasted that part\nof his captive, ate it before her; while she was yet alive he did this.\nHe told her she was served as she would have served him.\n\nBut the hardest task of all was to come. It was to burn or melt the\nheart. It was of ice, and more than ice: as much colder as ice is\ncolder than fire, as much harder as ice is harder than water. When\nplaced in the fire it put out the flame, yet by long burning it melted\nslowly, until they at last broke it to fragments with a hatchet, and\nthen melted these. So they returned to the camp.\n\nSpring came. The snows of winter, as water, ran down the rivers to the\nsea; the ice and snow which had encamped on the inland hills sought the\nshore. So did the Indian and his wife; the Chenoo, with softened soul,\nwent with them. Now he was becoming a man like other men. Before going\nthey built a canoe for the old man: they did not cover it with birch bark;\nthey made it of moose-skin. [Footnote: \"The Indians have several names\nfor a canoe: _Kwedun_ (M.); _A'kweden_ (P.); _N'tooal_\n(M.), my canoe or my water-craft of any kind; _Mooseoolk_, a canoe\ncovered with moose-skin (M.); _Skogumoolk_ (M..), a new canoe;\n_N'canoolk_ (M.), an old canoe.\"--Rand manuscript. To these may\nbe added the different patterns of canoes peculiar to different tribes,\nas for instance the Mohawk, which is broad, with peculiar ends, etc.]\nIn it they placed a part of their venison and skins. The Chenoo took\nhis place in it; they took the lead, he followed.\n\nAnd after winding on with the river, down rapids and under forest-boughs,\nthey came out into the sunshine, on a broad, beautiful lake. But\nsuddenly, when midway in the water, the Chenoo laid flat in the canoe,\nas if to hide himself. And to explain this he said that be had just then\nbeen discovered by another Chenoo, who was standing on the top of a\nmountain, whose dim blue outline could just be seen stretching far away\nto the north. \"He has seen me,\" he said, \"but he cannot see you. Nor can\nhe behold me now; but should he discover me again, his wrath will be\nroused. Then he will attack me; I know not who might conquer. I prefer\npeace.\"\n\nSo he lay hidden, and they took his canoe in tow. But when they had\ncrossed the lake and come to the river again, the Chenoo said that he\ncould not travel further by water. He would walk the woods, but sail\non streams no more. So they told him where they meant to camp that\nnight. He started over mountains and through woods and up rocks, a far,\nround-about journey. And the man and his wife went down the river in a\nspring freshet, headlong with the rapids. [Footnote: One should be\nfamiliar with the almost impassable forests of Maine and Canada, even\nas they are at the present day, to properly appreciate the Chenook's\njourney. As for the speed of the canoe, I have myself gone down the\nKenawha River (Va.), in a dug-out, at the rate of one hundred miles\nin a day.] But when they had paddled round the point where they meant\nto pass the night, they saw smoke rising among the trees, and on landing\nthey found the Chenoo sleeping soundly by the fire which had been built\nfor them.\n\nThis he repeated for several days. But as they went south a great\nchange came over him. He was a being of the north. Ice and snow had no\neffect on him, but he could not endure the soft airs of summer. He grew\nweaker and weaker; when they had reached their village he had to be\ncarried like a little child. He had grown gentle. His fierce and\nformidable face was now like that of a man. His wounds had healed; his\nteeth no longer grinned wildly all the time. The people gathered round\nhim in wonder.\n\nHe was dying. This was after the white men had come. They sent for a\npriest. He found the Chenoo as ignorant of all religion as a wild\nbeast. At first he would repel the father in anger. Then he listened\nand learned the truth. So the old heathen's heart changed; he was\ndeeply moved. He asked to be baptized, and as the first tear which he\nhad ever shed in all his life came to his eyes he died. [Footnote: This\nstrange and touching tale was told to Mr. Rand by a Micmac Indian,\nLouis Brooks, who heard it from his grandfather, Samuel Paul, a chief,\nwho died in 1843, at the age of eighty. He was a living chronicle of\nancient traditions. The Chenoo can be directly identified with the\nso-called Inlander of the Greenland Eskimo. He is a cannibal, a giant,\na mysterious being who haunts the horrible and almost unexplored\ninterior. He assumes different forms; in one shape he is supposed to be\na man who has become a recluse and a misanthrope. But no such being as\na Chenoo could ever have been imagined out of an arctic country. The\nconception of the heart of hardest ice and the gradual civilization of\nthe savage by kindness; the tact with which this is done, as only a\nwoman could do it; the indication of the old nature, as shown by eating\nthe liver of his conquered foe, and his final conversion, display a\ngenius which is greatly heightened by the simplicity of the narrative.]\n\nAs there is actually a tribe of Indians in the Northwest called Chenoo,\nthere can be little doubt as to the derivation of the name. Such a\ncharacter could have originated, as I have said, only in the icy north;\nit could never have grown in the milder regions of the west and south.\nBut the Chenoo, the monstrous, ferocious cannibal giant, with an icy\nheart, is the central figure of the evil supernatural beings of the\nnorth. The Schoolcraft traditions and Hiawatha have little to say of\nTitans whose heads top the clouds, who tear up forests and rend rocks,\nand change the whole face of Nature in their hideous battles or\nhorrible revels. But such scenes are continually described by the\nPassamaquoddy and Micmac story-tellers, and they would be natural\nenough to Greenlanders, familiar with whales, icebergs, frozen wastes,\nlong winter nights, and all the frozen desolation of the north.\n\nThere is a mystery connected with the _eating of the liver_, which\nis to be explained, like many other Indian mysteries, by having\nrecourse to the Eskimo Shamanism. \"In Greenland a man who has been\nmurdered can revenge himself by _rushing into_ him,\" that is,\nentering his soul, \"which can only be prevented by eating a piece of\nhis liver.\" (Rink, T. and T. of the Eskimo, page 45.) The Chenoo is in\nall essentials identical with the _Kivigtok_ of Greenland, \"a man\nwho has fled mankind, and acquired extraordinary mental and physical\npowers.\" The story which I have here given is probably that of the\nEskimo tale of the Blind Man who recovered his sight (Rink, page 99),\nin which a _Kivigtok_, after becoming incredibly old, returns to\nmankind to seek a Shaman priest and repent. In both stories there is a\n\"Chenoo,\" and in both there is atonement with mankind and the higher\npowers.\n\nIt may be observed that while the Chenoo is a giant with a heart of ice\nas hard as stone, the giant Hrungnir, of the Edda, has a heart of\nstone. The Chenoo agrees with the Jotuns in many respects.\n\n\n\n\n_The Story of the Great Chenoo, as told by the Passamaquoddies._\n\n(Passamaquoddy.)\n\n\nWhat the Micmacs call a Chenoo is known to the Passamaquoddies as a\n_Kewahqu'_ or _Kewoqu'_. And this is their origin. When the\n_k'tchi m'teoulin_, or Great Big Witch, [Footnote: When legends\nfrom the Anglo-Indian manuscript collection of Mitchell are given, many\nof the phrases or words in the original are retained, without regard to\nstyle or correctness. Wizard is here placed for witch.] is conquered by\nthe smaller witches, or _M'teoulinssisk_, they can kill him or\nturn him into a _Kewahqu'_. He still fights, however, with the\nother _Kewaquiyck_. When they get ready to fight, they suddenly\nbecome as tall as the highest trees; their weapons are the trees\nthemselves, which they uproot with great strength. And this strength\ndepends upon the quantity or size of the piece of ice which makes the\nheart of the _Kewahqu'_. This piece of ice is like distance.\n\"There is a great female Kewahqu' coming to fight me. In the struggle I\nmay not know you, and may hurt you.\" So they went away as fast and as\nfar as they could, but they heard the fighting, the most frightful\nnoises, howls, yells, thundering and crashing of wood and rocks. After\na time the man determined to see the fight. When he got to the place he\nsaw a horrible sight: big trees uprooted, the giants in a deadly\nstruggle. Then the Indian, who was very brave, and who was afraid that\nhis father-in-law would be killed, came up and helped as much as he\ncould, and in fact so much that between them they killed the enemy. The\nold Kewahqu' was badly but not fatally hurt, and the woman was very\nglad her father came off victorious. She had always heard that a\nKewahqu' had a piece of ice for a heart. If this can be taken out, the\nKewahqu' can be tamed and cured. So she made a preparation or medicine,\nand offered it to him. He did not know what it was, nor its strength,\nso he swallowed it, and it gave him a vomit. She saw something drop, so\nquietly picked it up: it was the figure of a man of ice; it was the\nKewahqu's heart. She, not being seen or noticed, put it in the fire,\nwhen he cried,\" Daughter, you are killing me now; you destroy my\nstrength.\" Yet she made him take more of the medicine, and a second\nheart came out. This she also put on the fire. But when a third came he\ngrabbed it from her hand, and swallowed it. However, he was almost\nentirely cured.\n\nAnother time an Indian village was visited by a Kewahqu', but he was\ndriven away by magic. The people marked _crosses_ on the trees\nwhere they expected the Kewahqu' to come. There was a great excitement\namong the Indians, expecting to hear their strange visitor with his\nfrightful noises. It was the old people who gave the advice to mark\ncrosses on the trees.\n\nAnother time an Indian of either the Passamaquoddy or Mareschite tribe\nwas turned to a Kewahqu'. The last time he was seen was by a party of\nIndian hunters, who recognized him. He had only small strips of\nclothing. \"This country,\"' he said,\" is too warm for me. I am going to\na colder one.\"\n\nThis story from the Passamaquoddy Anglo-Indian, manuscript of Mitchell\nsupplies some very important deficiencies in the preceding Micmac\nversion. We are told that the _heart_ of the Chenoo is of ice in\nhuman figure. This human figure is that of the Kewahqu' himself, or\nrather his very self, or microcosm. It is this, and not the liver,\nwhich is swallowed by the victor, who thus adds another frozen \"soul\"\nto his own. Of the three vomited by the Kewahqu', two were the hearts\nof enemies whom he had conquered. He could not give up his own,\nhowever. It is much more according to common sense that the woman\nshould have given the cannibal the magic medicine which made him yield\nhis heart than that he should voluntarily have purged himself. In the\nMicmac tale he merely relieves his stomach; in the Passamaquoddy\nversion he, by woman's influence, loses his icy _heart_. It is\ninteresting to observe that the use of the Christian cross is in the\nadditional anecdote described as _magic_.\n\nIt is the main point in the Chenoo stories that this horrible being,\nthis most devilish of devils, is at first human; perhaps an unusually\ngood girl, or youth. From having the heart once chilled, she or he goes\non in cruelty, until at last the sufferer eats the heart of another\nChenoo, especially a female's. Then utter wickedness ensues. It is more\nthan probable that this leads us back to some dark and terrible Shaman\nsuperstition, older than we can now fathom. There is a passage in the\nEdda which its translator, Thorpe, thinks can never be explained. \"I\nbelieve,\" he writes, \"the difficulty is beyond help.\" The lines are as\nfollows:--\n\n  \"Loki scorched up [Footnote: The _Edda_, p. 112.]\n  In his heart's affections,\n  Had found a half-burnt\n  Woman's heart.\n  Loki became guileful\n  from that wicked woman:\n  thence in the world\n  are all giantesses come.\"\n\nOf which Thorpe writes, \"The sense of this and the following line is\nnot apparent. They stand thus in the original: _Loki of hiarta lyrdi\nbrendu, fann hann halfsvidthin hugstein konu_, for which Grimm\n(Myth. Vorrede 37) would read _Loki at hiarta lundi brenda_, etc.,\n_Lokius comedit cor in nemore assum, invenit semiustum mentis lapidem\nmulieris_.\" Whatever obscurity exists here, it is evident that it\nmeans that Loki, having become bad, grew worse after having got the\nhalf-burnt stone of a woman's soul. That is, his own heart, half\nruined, became utterly so after he had added to it the demoralized\n_hugstein_, soul-stone, thought-stone, or _heart_ of a woman.\nIf we assume that stone and heart are the same, the difficulty\nvanishes. And they are one in the Chenoo, who, like Loki, illustrates\nor symbolizes the passage from good to evil, which a German writer\ndeclares is quicker than thought, or that very same _Ilugi_ which\nthe Norse myth puts forwards as swiftest of all runners. Loki, not as\nyet lost, gets the stone heart of a giantess, and becomes an utter\ndevil at once. The Chenoo becomes an utter devil when he has swallowed\nthe _thought-stone_ of a giantess, and so does Loki.\n\n\n\n\n_The Girl-Chenoo._\n\n(Micmac.)\n\n\nOf the old time. Far up the Saguenay River a branch turns off to the\nnorth, running back into the land of ice and snow. Ten families went up\nthis stream one autumn in their canoes, to be gone all winter on a\nhunt. Among them was a beautiful girl, twenty years of age. A young man\nin the band wished her to become his wife, but she flatly refused him.\nPerhaps she did it in such a way as to wound his pride; certainly she\nroused all that was savage in him, and he gave up all his mind to\nrevenge. He was skilled in medicine, or in magic, so he went into the\nwoods and gathered an herb which makes people insensible. Then stealing\ninto the lodge when all were asleep, he held it to the girl's face,\nuntil she had inhaled the odor and could not be easily awakened. Going\nout he made a ball of snow, and returning placed it in the hollow of\nher neck, in front, just below the throat. Then he retired without\nbeing discovered. So she could not awake, while the chill went to her\nheart. [Footnote: The Eskimo Shamans and the Indian _boo-oin_ are\nfamiliar with many very ingenious and singular ways of producing\nprolonged illness and death. There is one known to a very few old\ngypsies, of gradually inducing insanity and death, which I have never\nseen noted in any work on toxicology. In a work which I lately read, it\nwas positively denied that there was any such thing as a \"lingering\npoison\"!]\n\nWhen she awoke she was chilly, shivering, and sick. She refused to eat.\nThis lasted long, and her parents became alarmed. They inquired what\nailed her. She was ill-tempered; she said that nothing was the matter.\nOne day, having been sent to the spring for water, she remained absent\nso long that her mother went to seek her. Approaching unseen, she\nobserved her greedily eating snow. And asking her what it meant, the\ndaughter explained that she felt within a burning sensation, which the\nsnow relieved. More than that, she craved the snow; the taste of it was\npleasant to her.\n\nAfter a few days she began to grow fierce, as though she wished to kill\nsome one. At last she begged her parents to kill her. Hitherto she had\nloved them very much. Now she told them that unless they killed her she\nwould certainly be their death. Her whole nature was being changed.\n\n\"How can we kill you?\" her mother asked.\n\n\"You must shoot at me,\" she replied, \"with seven arrows. [Footnote: The\nMicmac version gives _guns_. But the Chenoo stories are evidently\nvery ancient, and refer to terrors of the olden time.] And if you can\nkill me with seven shots, all will be well. But if you cannot, I shall\nkill you.\"\n\nSeven men shot at her, as she sat in the wigwam. She was not bound.\nEvery arrow struck her in the breast, but she sat firm and unmoved.\nForty-nine times they pierced her; from time to time she looked up with\nan encouraging smile. When the last arrow struck she fell dead.\n\nThen they burned the body, as she had directed. It was soon reduced to\nashes, with the exception of the heart, which was of the hardest ice.\nThis required much time to melt and break. At last all was over.\n\nShe had been brought under the power of an evil spirit; she was rapidly\nbeing changed into a Chenoo a wild, fierce, unconquerable being. But\nshe knew it all the while, and it was against her will. So she begged\nthat she might be killed.\n\nThe Indians left the place; since that day none have ever returned to\nit. They feared lest some small part of the body might have remained\nunconsumed, and that from it another Chenoo would rise, capable of\nkilling all whom she met. [Footnote: Mr. Rand (manuscript) gives a\ndetailed account of an Indian who went mad during the winter, ran away\nnaked into the wilderness among the snows, and was unanimously declared\nto have turned into a Chenoo. I agree with Mr. Rand that \"the\nhistorical basis of these tales, if they have any, may be the same,--a\ncase of lunacy; fiction and figure adding the incredible details.\"]\n\n\n\n\nTHUNDER STORIES\n\n_Of the Girl who married Mount Katahdin, and how all the Indians\nbrought about their own Ruin._\n\n(Penobscot.)\n\n\nOf the old time. There was once an Indian girl gathering blueberries on\nMount Katahdin. And, being lonely, she said, \"I would that I had a\nhusband!\" And seeing the great mountain in all its glory rising on\nhigh, with the red sunlight on the top, she added, \"I wish Katahdin\nwere a man, and would marry me!\"\n\nAll this she was heard to say ere she went onward and up the mountain,\nbut for three years she was never seen again. Then she reappeared,\nbearing a babe, a beautiful child, but his little eyebrows were of\nstone. For the Spirit of the Mountain had taken her to himself; and\nwhen she greatly desired to return to her own people, he told her to go\nin peace, but forbade her to tell any man who had married her.\n\nNow the boy had strange gifts, and the wise men said that he was born\nto become a mighty magician. For when he did but point his finger at a\nmoose, or anything which ran, it would drop dead; and when in a canoe,\nif he pointed at the flocks of wild ducks or swans, then the water was\nat once covered with the floating game, and they gathered them in as\nthey listed, and through that boy his mother and every one had food and\nto spare.\n\nNow this was the truth, and it was great wonder, that Katahdin had\nwedded this girl, thinking with himself and his wife to bring up a\nchild who should build up his nation, and make of the Wabanaki a mighty\nrace. And he said, \"Declare unto these people that they are not to\ninquire of thee who is the father of thy child; truly they will all\nknow it by seeing him, for they shall not grieve thee with\nimpertinence.\" Now the woman had made it known that she would not be\nquestioned, and she gave them all what they needed; yet, for all this,\nthey could not refrain nor restrain themselves from talking to her on\nwhat they well knew she would fain be silent. And one day when they had\nangered her, she thought, \"Truly Katahdin was right; these people are\nin nowise worthy of my son, neither shall he serve them; he shall not\nlead them to victory; they are not of those who make a great nation.\"\nAnd being still further teased and tormented, she spake and said, \"Ye\nfools, who by your own folly will kill yourselves; ye mud-wasps, who\nsting the fingers which would pick ye out of the water, why will ye\never trouble me to tell you what you well know? Can you not see who was\nthe father of my boy? Behold his eyebrows; do ye not know Katahdin by\nthem? But it shall be to your exceeding great sorrow that ever ye\ninquired. From this day ye may feed yourselves and find your own\nvenison, for this child shall do so no more for you.\"\n\nAnd she arose and went her way into the woods and up the mountain, and\nwas seen on earth no more. And since that day the Indians, who should\nhave been great, have become a little people. Truly it would have been\nwise and well for those of early times if they could have held their\ntongues.\n\nThis remarkable legend was related to me by Mrs. Marie Sakis, a\nPenobscot, a very clever story-teller. It gives the Fall of Man from a\npurely Indian standpoint. Nothing is so contemptible in Indian eyes as\na want of dignity and idle, loquacious teasing; therefore it is made in\nthe myth the sin which destroyed their race. The tendency of the lower\nclass of Americans, especially in New England, to raise and emphasize\nthe voice, to speak continually in italics and small and large\ncapitals, with a wide display, and the constant disposition to chaff\nand tease, have contributed more than any other cause to destroy\nconfidence and respect for them among the Indians.\n\nSince writing the foregoing paragraph, I have read The Abnakis, by Rev.\nEugene Vetromile. In his chapter on the Religion and Superstition of\nthese Indians he gives this story, but, as I think, in a corrupted\nform. Firstly, he states that Pamola (that is, Bumole), who is the evil\nspirit of the night air, was the Spirit of Mount Katahdin. Now these\nare certainly _at present_ two very distinct beings, which are\ndescribed as being personally quite unlike. Secondly, in Vetromile's\nstory the mother and child disappear in consequence of the child having\n_inadvertently_ killed an Indian by pointing at him. It will be\nseen that this feeble, impotent conclusion utterly spoils the manifest\nmeaning of the whole legend.\n\nOf this story Vetromile remarks that \"it is, of course, a superstitious\ntale, made up by the prolific imagination of some Indians, yet we can\nperceive in it some vestiges of the fall of the first man in having\ntransgressed the command of God, and how it could be repaired only by\nGod. We can also trace some ideas of the mystery of the Incarnation of\nthe Son of God in the womb of the Blessed Virgin Mary, mixed with\nfables, superstitions, and pagan errors. The appearance of God to Moses\nin the Burning Bush may be glimpsed in Pamole appearing to the Indian\non Mount Katahdin, and so forth.\"\n\nThe pilgrims in Rabelais did not point out scriptural coincidences with\ngreater ingenuity than this. It is deeply to be regretted that the\nreverend father's entire knowledge of the mythology of the Abenakis was\nlimited to this single story. (Vide Bumole, in chapter on Supernatural\nBeings.) It may be, however, observed, that if the name Bumole or\nPamola really means \"he curses on the mountain,\" or curse on mountain,\nit was natural that the evil spirit should be supposed to be on the\nmountain. Pamola was perhaps at an early period the spirit of\nlightning, and might thus be very easily confused with Katahdin.\n\n\n\n\n_How a hunter visited the Thunder Spirits who dwell in Mount\nKatahdin._\n\n(Passamaquoddy.)\n\n\n_N'karnayoo_. Of old times. Once an Indian went forth to hunt. And\nhe departed from the east branch of the Penobscot, and came to the head\nof another branch that leads into the east branch, and this he followed\neven to the foot of Mount Katahdin. [Footnote: This minuteness of\nneedless detail is very characteristic of Indian tales. I do not think\nthat it is introduced for the sake of local color, or to give an air of\ntruthful seeming, because the Indian simply believes the whole, as it\nis. I think the reason may be that, owing to their love of adventure,\nthey enjoy the mere recitation of topographical details.] And there he\nhunted many a day alone, and met none, till one morning in midwinter he\nfound the track of snow-shoes. So he returned to his camp; but the next\nday he met with it again in a far-distant place. And thus it was that,\nwherever he went, this track came to him every day. Then noting this,\nas a sign to be observed, he followed it, and it went up the mountain,\nKatahdin, which, being interpreted, means \"the great mountain,\" until\nat last it was lost in a hard snow-shoe road made by many travelers.\nAnd since it was hard and even, he took off his _agahmook_ (P.),\nor snow-shoes, and went ever on and up with the road; and it was a\nstrange path and strange was its ending, for it stopped just before a\nhigh ledge, like an immense wall, on a platform at its foot. And there\nwere many signs there, as of many people, yet he saw no one. And as he\nstayed it seemed to grow stranger and stranger. At last he heard a\nsound as of footsteps coming, yet within the wall, when lo! a girl\nstepped directly out of the precipice upon the platform. But though she\nwas beautiful beyond belief, he was afraid. And to his every thought\nshe answered in words, and that so sweetly and kindly and cleverly that\nhe was soon without fear, though he saw that she had powerful\n_m'teoulin_, or great magic power. And they being soon pleased one\nwith the other, and wanting each other, she bade him accompany her, and\nthat by walking directly through the rock. \"Have no fear,\" said she,\n\"but, advance boldly!\" So he obeyed, and lo! the rock was as the air,\nand it gave way as he went on. And ever as they went the maiden talked\nto him, answering his thoughts, so that he spoke not aloud.\n\nAnd anon they came to a great cavern far within, and there was an old\nman seated by a fire, and the old man welcomed him. And he was very\nkindly treated by the strange pair all day: in all his life he had\nnever been so happy. Now as the night drew near, the old man said to\nhis daughter, \"Can you hear aught of your brothers?\" Then she went out\nto the terrace, and, returning, said, \"No.\" Then anon he asked her\nagain, and she, going and returning as before, replied, \"Now I hear\nthem coming.\" Then they listened, when lo! there came, as at the door\nwithout, a crash of thunder with a flash of lightning, and out of the\nlight stepped two young men of great beauty, but like giants,\nstupendous and of awful mien. And, like their father, their eyebrows\nwere of stone, while their cheeks were as rocks.\n\nAnd the hunter was told by their sister that when they went forth,\nwhich was every few days, their father said to them, \"Sons, arise! it\nis time now for you to go forth over the world and save our friends. Go\nnot too near the trees, but if you see aught that is harmful to those\nwhom we love, strike, and spare not!\" Then when they went forth they\nflew on high among the clouds; and thus it is that the Thunder and\nLightning, whose home is in the mighty Katahdin, are made. And when the\nthunder strikes, the brothers are shooting at the enemies of their\nfriends.\n\nNow when the day was done the hunter returned to his home, and when\nthere, found he had been gone seven years. All this I have heard from\nthe old people who are dead and gone.\n\nThis tale was told me by Tomah Josephs (P.). It seems to have nothing\nin common with the very widely spread myth that the thunder is the\nflapping of the wings of a giant bird, and the lightning the flashes of\nits eyes. The tradition is probably of Eskimo origin, supernatural\nbeings partially of stone being common to Greenland and Labrador. There\nis a strange but entirely accidental resemblance between this story\nand Rip Van Winkle, as in the distant sound of the nine-pins like\nlow-muttered thunder, the hospitable entertainment, and finally the\nseven years as one day. Apparent resemblances are very deceptive. In\nthe Eskimo mythology the _mersugat_ or _kutadlit_, who are\nthe higher or benevolent spirits, protecting mortals, are distinguished\nfrom the evil ones by dwelling in cliffs, to which there are invisible\nentrances.\n\nThere is a remarkable resemblance between Katahdin and Hrungnir of the\nEdda. Hrungnir has a face of stone; he is unquestionably a mountain\npersonified, as Miss Larned declares: \"His stony head pierces the blue\nsky.\" [Footnote: _Tales of the Elder Edda_, p. 235.] Both giants\nare the typical great mountain of their respective countries. Hrungnir\nhas also very great affinity with the Chenoo giant. He has a _stony\nheart_, an insatiable appetite, and is cruel and brutal.\n\nThe Iroquois have the very stone giants--or, as Schoolcraft calls them,\nthe stonish giants--themselves, and a very curious picture of them has\nbeen preserved. [Footnote: Vide Cusick's _Five Nations_, 2d\nedition, and Schoolcraft's _Indian Tribes_, vol. i p: 429.] Of\nthem he remarks, \"Who the giants are intended to symbolize is\nuncertain. They are represented as impenetrable by darts.\" The\nconnection between the stone giants of the Indians, the Eskimo, and the\nNorsemen, if not historical, is at least identical in this, that they\nall typify the mountains.\n\n\n\n\n_The Thunder and Lightning Men._\n\n(Passamaquoddy.)\n\n\nThis is truly an old Indian story of old time. Once an Indian was\nwhirled up by the roaring wind: he was taken up in a thunder-storm, and\nset down again in the village of the Thunders. [Footnote: This tale is\ntranscribed, with very little alteration, from a manuscript collection\nof tales written in Indian-English by an Indian. I retain the word\n_thunders_ as expressive of the beings in question. It has for\ntitle, _A Story called \"An Indian transformed into a Thunder!\"_]\nIn after-times he described them as very like human beings: they used\nbows and arrows (_tah-bokque_), and had wings.\n\nBut these wings can be laid aside, and kept for use. And from time to\ntime their chief gives these Thunders orders to put them on, and tells\nthem where to go. He also tells them how long they are to be gone, and\nwarns them not to go too low, for it is sure death for them to be\ncaught in the crotch of a tree.\n\nThe great chief of the Thunders, hearing of the stranger's arrival,\nsent for him, and received him very kindly, and told him that he would\ndo well to become one of them. To which the man being willing, the\nchief soon after called all his people together to see the ceremony of\nthunderifying [Footnote: This word is one of the Indian author's own,\nbut as I know of no synonym for it I retain it. It is certainly not\nworse than \"Native-Americanizing.\"] the Indian.\n\nThen they bade him go into a square thing, or box, and while in it he\nlost his senses and became a Thunder. Then they brought him a pair of\nwings, and he put them on. So he flew about like the rest of the\nThunders; he became quite like them, and followed all their ways. And\nhe said that they always flew towards the _sou' n' snook_, or,\nsouth, and that the roar and crash of the thunder was the sound of\ntheir wings. Their great amusement is to play at ball across the sky.\n[Footnote: The Eskimo say that the lightning of the Northern Lights is\ncaused by spirits playing at ball with the head of a walrus.] When they\nreturn they carefully put away their wings for their next flight. There\nis a big bird in the south, and this they are always trying to kill,\nbut never succeed in doing so.\n\nThey made long journeys, and always took him with them. So it went on\nfor a long time, but it came to pass that the Indian began to tire of\nhis strange friends. Then he told the chief that he wished to see his\nfamily on earth, and the sagamore listened to him and was very kind.\nThen he called all his people together, and said that their brother\nfrom the other world was very lonesome, and wished to return. They were\nall very sorry indeed to lose him, but because they loved him they let\nhim have his own way, and decided to carry him back again. So bidding\nhim close his eyes till he should be on earth, they carried him down.\n\nThe Indians saw a great thunder-storm drawing near; they heard such\nthunder as they never knew before, and then something in the shape of a\nhuman being coming down with lightning; then they ran to the spot where\nhe sat, and it was their long-lost brother, who had been gone seven\nyears.\n\nHe had been in the Thunder-world. He told them how he had been playing\nball with the Thunder-boys: yes, how he had been turned into a real\nThunder himself.\n\nThis is why the Indians to this very day have a firm belief that the\nthunder and lightning we hear and see are caused by (beings or spirits)\n(called) in Indian _Bed-dag yek_ (or thunder), [Footnote: The\nmanuscript is here difficult to understand, but this is apparently the\nreal meaning of it.] because they see them, and have, moreover,\nactually picked up the _bed-dags k'chisousan_, or thunder-bullet.\n[Footnote: Thunderbolt.] It is of many different kinds of stone, but\nalways of the same shape. The last was picked up by Peter Sabattis,\n[Footnote: I heard of the existence of this legend a long time before I\nfound it in the manuscript collection obtained for me by Louis\nMitchell. It is very curious as being unquestionably of Eskimo origin,\nor common to the Eskimo; also because it speaks of the Thunders as\nalways endeavoring to kill a great bird in the south. This is probably\nthe thunder or storm bird, called by the Passamaquoddy Indians\n_Wochowsen_ or _Wuchowsen_, that is, Wind-Blower. Another\nlegend makes Thunder and Lightning the sons of Mount Katahdin.\n\nI may here mention that I am well acquainted with old Peter Sabattis,\nthe possessor of the \"thunder-bullet.\"] one of the Passamaquoddy tribe.\nHe has it yet. He found it in a crotch-root of a spruce-tree at Head\nHarbor, on the island of Campobello. This stone is a sign of good-luck\nto him who finds it.\n\nThe thunder is the sound of the wings of the men who fly above. The\nlightning we see is the fire and smoke of their pipes.\n\n\n\n\n_Of the Woman who married the Thunder, and of their Boy._\n\n(Passamaquoddy.)\n\n\nOnce a woman went to the edge of a lake [Footnote: It is impossible to\ndistinguish in any Indian story between lake and sea.] and lay down to\nsleep. As she awoke, she saw a great serpent, with glittering eyes,\ncrawl from the water, and stealthily approach her. She had no power to\nresist his embrace. After her return to her people her condition\nbetrayed itself, and she was much persecuted; they pursued her with\nsticks and stones, howling abuse.\n\nShe fled from the village; she went afar into wild places, and, sitting\ndown on the grass, wept, wishing that she were dead. As she sat and\nwailed, a very beautiful girl, dressed in silver and gold, [Footnote:\nBoth silver and gold were known in pre-Columbian, times to the Indians.\nI had a cousin who once found a very old stone pipe in which a small\npiece of gold had been set. Particles of gold are found in many\nmountain-streams in New England.] appeared, and after listening to her\nsad story said, \"Follow me!\"\n\nThen they went up on high into a mountain, through three rocks, until\nthey came into a pleasant wigwam with a very smooth floor. An old man,\nso old that he was all white, came to meet them. Then he, taking a\nshort stick, bade her dance. He began to sing, and as he sang she gave\nbirth, one by one, to twelve serpents. These the old man killed in\nsuccession with his stick as they were born. Then she had become thin\nagain, and was in her natural form.\n\nThe old man had a son, Badawk, the Thunder, and a daughter,\n_Psawk-tankapic_, the Lightning, and when Thunder returned he\noffered to take her back to her own people, but she refused to go.\nThen the old man, said to his son, \"Take her for your wife and be\ngood to her.\" So they were married.\n\nIn time she bore a son. When the boy could stand, the old man, who\nnever leaves the mountain, called him to stand before him, while be\nfastened wings to the child. He was soon able, with these wings, to\nmake a noise, which greatly pleased the grandfather. When a storm is\napproaching, the distant rumbling is the muttering thunder made by the\nchild, but it is _Badawk_, his father, who comes in the dark cloud\nand makes the roaring crash, while _Psawk-tankapic_ flashes her\nlightnings.\n\nIn after days, when the woman visited her people, she told them that\nthey never need fear the thunder or lightning.\n\n\n\n\nAT-O-SIS, THE SERPENT\n\n_How Two Girls were changed to Water-Snakes, and of Two Others that\nbecame Mermaids._\n\n(Passamaquoddy.)\n\n\nPocumkwess, or Thoroughfare, is sixty-five miles from Campobello. There\nwas an Indian village there in the old times. Two young Indian girls\nhad a strange habit of absenting themselves all day every Sunday. No\none knew for a long time where they went or what they did. But this was\nhow they passed their time. They would take a canoe and go six miles\ndown the Grand Lake, where, at the north end, is a great ledge of rock\nand sixty feet of water. There they stayed. All day long they ran about\nnaked or swam; they were wanton, witch-like girls, liking eccentric and\nforbidden ways.\n\nThey kept this up for a long time. Once, while they were in the water,\nan Indian who was hunting spied them. He came nearer and nearer,\nunseen. He saw them come out of the water and sit on the shore, and\nthen go in again; but as he looked they grew longer and longer, until\nthey became snakes.\n\nHe went home and told this. (But now they had been seen by a man they\nmust keep the serpent form.) Men of the village, in four or five\ncanoes, went to find them. They found the canoe and clothes of the\ngirls; nothing more. A few days after, two men on Grand Lake saw the\nsnake-girls on shore, showing their heads over the bushes. One began to\nsing.\n\n  \"N'ktieh ieben iut,\n  Qu'spen ma ke owse.\"\n\n  We are going to stay in this lake\n  A few days, and then go down the river.\n  Bid adieu to our friends for us;\n  We are going to the great salt water.\n\nAfter singing this they sank into the water. They had very long hair.\n\nA picture of the man looking at the snake-girls was scraped for me by\nthe Indian who told me this story. The pair were represented as snakes\nwith female heads. When I first heard this tale, I promptly set it down\nas nothing else but the Melusina story derived from a Canadian French\nsource. But I have since found that it is so widely spread, and is told\nin so many different forms, and is so deeply connected with tribal\ntraditions and totems, that there is now no doubt in my mind that it is\nat least pre-Columbian.\n\nAnother and a very curious version of this story was obtained by Mrs.\nW. Wallace Brown, who has been the chief discoverer of curious Indian\nlore among the Passamaquoddies. It is called:\n\n_Ne Hwas, the Mermaid._\n\nA long time ago there was an Indian, with his wife and two daughters.\nThey lived by a great lake, or the sea, and the mother told her girls\nnever to go into the water there, for that, if they did, something\nwould happen to them.\n\nThey, however, deceived her repeatedly. When swimming is prohibited it\nbecomes delightful. The shore of this lake _sands_ away out or\nslopes to an island. One day they went to it, leaving their clothes on\nthe beach. The parents missed them.\n\nThe father went to seek them. He saw them swimming far out, and called\nto them. The girls swam up to the sand, but could get no further. Their\nfather asked them why they could not. They cried that they had grown to\nbe so heavy that it was impossible. They were all slimy; they grew to\nbe snakes from below the waist. After sinking a few times in this\nstrange slime they became very handsome, with long black hair and\nlarge, bright black eyes, with silver bands on their neck and arms.\n\nWhen their father went to get their clothes, they began to sing in the\nmost exquisite tones:--\n\n  \"Leave them there!\n  Do not touch them!\n  Leave them there!\"\n\nHearing this, their mother began to weep, but the girls kept on:--\n\n  \"It is all our own fault,\n  But do not blame us;\n  'T will be none the worse for you.\n  When you go in your canoe,\n  Then you need not paddle;\n  We shall carry it along!\"\n\nAnd so it was: when their parents went in the canoe, the girls carried\nit safely on everywhere.\n\nOne day some Indians saw the girls' clothes on the beach, and so looked\nout for the wearers. They found them in the water, and pursued them,\nand tried to capture them, but they were so slimy that it was\nimpossible to take them, till one, catching hold of a mermaid by her\nlong black hair, cut it off.\n\nThen the girl began to rock the canoe, and threatened to upset it\nunless her hair was given to her again. The fellow who had played the\ntrick at first refused, but as the mermaids, or snake-maids, promised\nthat they should all be drowned unless this was done, the locks were\nrestored. And the next day they were heard singing and were seen, and\non her who had lost her hair it was all growing as long as ever.\n\nWe may very easily detect the hand of Lox, the Mischief Maker, in this\nlast incident. It was the same trick which Loki played on Sif, the wife\nof Odin. That both Lox and Loki were compelled to replace the hair and\nmake it grow again--the one on the snake-maid, the other on the\ngoddess--is, if a coincidence, at least a very remarkable one. It is a\nrule with little exception that where we have to deal with myths which\nhave passed into romances or tales, that which was originally one\ncharacter becomes many, just as the king who has but one name and one\nappearance at court assumes a score when he descends to disguise of low\ndegree and goes among the people. But when, in addition to\ncharacteristic traits, we have even a single anecdote or attribute in\ncommon, the identification is very far advanced. When not one, but\nmany, of these coincidences occur, we are in all probability at the\ntruth. Thus we find in the mythology of the Wabanaki, as in the Edda,\nthe chief evil being indulging in mere wanton, comic mischief, to an\nextent not to be found in the devil of any other race whatever. Here,\nin a mythical tale, the same mischief maker steals a snake-girl's hair,\nand is compelled to replace it. In the Edda, the corresponding mischief\nmaker steals the hair of a goddess, and is also forced to make\nrestitution. Yet this is only one of many such resemblances in these\ntales. It will be observed that in both cases the hair of the loser is\nmade to grow again. But while the incident has in the Edda a meaning,\nas appears from its context, it has none in the Indian tale. All that\nwe can conclude from this is that the Wabanaki tale is subsequent to\nthe Norse, or taken from it. The incidents of tales are often\nremembered when the plot is lost. It is certainly very remarkable that,\nwherever the mischief maker occurs in these Indian tales, he in every\nnarrative does something in common with his Norse prototype.\n\n\n\n\n_Of the Woman who loved a Serpent who lived in a Lake_.\n\n(Passamaquoddy.)\n\n\nOf old times. There was a very beautiful woman. She turned the heads of\nall the men. She married, and her husband died very soon after, but she\nimmediately took another. Within a single year she had five husbands,\nand these were the cleverest and handsomest and bravest in the tribe.\nAnd then she married again.\n\nThis, the sixth, was such a silent man that he passed for a fool. But\nhe was wiser than people thought. He came to believe, by thinking it\nover, that this woman had some strange secret. He resolved to find it\nout. So he watched her all the time. He kept his eye on her by night\nand by day.\n\nIt was summer, and she proposed to go into the woods to pick berries,\nand to camp there. By and by, when they were in the forest, she\nsuggested that he should go on to the spot where they intended to\nremain and build a wigwam. He said that he would do so. But he went a\nlittle way into the woods and watched her.\n\nAs soon as she believed that he was gone, she rose and walked rapidly\nonwards. He followed her, unseen. She went on, till, in a deep, wild\nplace among the rocks, she came to a pond. She sat down and sang a\nsong. A great foam, or froth, rose to the surface of the water. Then in\nthe foam appeared the tail of a serpent. The creature was of immense\nsize. The woman, who had laid aside all her garments, embraced the\nserpent, which twined around her, enveloping all her limbs and body in\nhis folds. The husband watched it all. He now understood that, the\nvenom of the serpent having entered the woman, she had saved her life\nby transferring it to others, who died.\n\nHe went on to the camping ground and built a wigwam. He made up two\nbeds; he built a fire. His wife came. She was earnest that there should\nbe only a single bed. He sternly bade her lie by herself. She was\nafraid of him. She laid down, and went to sleep. He arose three times\nduring the night to replenish the fire. Every time he called her, and\nthere was no answer. In the morning he shook her. She was dead. She had\ndied by the poison of the serpent. They sunk her in the pond where the\nsnake lived.\n\n[Illustration: THE WOMAN AND THE SERPENT]\n\nI do not omit this ghastly and repulsive legend for the following reasons:\nOne might hastily conclude, from its resemblance to the old legend of the\norigin of the Merovingian family, that this idea of the woman with the\nhorrible water spirit for a lover was of Canadian French origin. But a\nstory like it in the main detail is told by the Indians of Guiana, and\nthat of the Faithless Wife, given in Rink's Tales and Traditions of the\nEskimo (p. 143), is almost the same. But in the latter the husband\nrevenges himself by stuffing the woman full of poisonous vermin. Rink\nsays that he had five different versions of this tale, and that one was\nfrom Labrador, a country often traveled by the Micmacs, and even by the\nPenobscots and Passamaquoddies; I myself knowing one of the latter who\nhas been there. I conjecture that this tale sets forth the aboriginal\nidea of the origin of a certain disease supposed to have come from\nAmerica. It is popularly believed among the vulgar that this disease can\nbe transferred to another person, thereby removing it from the first. Of\nthis the Rev. Thistleton Dyer, in his Folk Lore of Shakespeare, says,\n\"According to an old but erroneous belief, infection communicated to\nanother left the infecter free; in allusion to which Timon of Athens\n(Act IV. 3) says,--\n\n  \"'I will not kiss thee; then the rot returns\n  To thy own lips again.'\"\n\nBonifacius, Historia Ludicra, has collected all the instances known to\nclassical antiquity of women who had serpent lovers. The kings of the\nearly races of Central America laid great stress on the fact that they\nwere descendants of serpents. One could fill a volume with all the\nArab, Hindoo, and other Oriental tales belonging to the beloved of\n\"ophitic monsters.\"\n\nI am indebted for this very curious and ancient tale to Governor Tomah\nJosephs, of Peter Dana's Point, Maine.\n\n\n\n\n_The Mother of Serpents._\n\n(Passamaquoddy.)\n\n\nThere was once a couple well advanced in years. They were powerful and\nrich in the Indian fashion, but they were unhappy because they had no\nchildren. This was near the river St. John's, on the shore of a small\nlake.\n\nAfter the woman had gone in vain to all the medicine men and\n_m'teoulin_, she heard of an old doctress, or witch, who lived not\nvery far off. And though hope was almost dead, the witch was consulted.\n\nShe gave the wife some herbs, and bade her steep them in a pot\nout-of-doors, and then let them boil. When the vessel should dance\nover the flame, the propitious moment would be at hand.\n\nEverything succeeded according to the witch's prediction. A few days\nafter she appeared in the town. The mother, who was a very proud woman,\nhad in advance hung up an Indian cradle with very fine ornaments. The\nold woman was very dirty, poor, and squalid. The proud woman was\nfurious at the visit, which mortified her in every way. She drove the\nwitch away with bitter words, bidding her begone with her rags. The old\nwoman went away muttering, \"That woman--too proud--too ugly proud--I'll\nsee.\" [Footnote: The story was narrated in Indian-English.]\n\nWhat she saw was bad for the mother. She took some more herbs from her\nbox and threw them in the fire, crying with a loud voice, \"_At-o-sis!\nAt-o-sis!_\" and imitated the motions of a snake.\n\nWhen the proud woman was confined, she gave birth to two large\nserpents. They had each a white ring round the neck and red stripes\ndown the sides. As soon as they were born they went rapidly to the\nlake, and disappeared in its water. They have been seen there, now and\nthen, ever since.\n\nShe who gave birth, to them was a Mohawk, and she is called the Mother\nof Serpents.\n\nAnother Passamaquoddy tale gives the following account of the origin of\nthe Serpent-race.\n\nOnce there was an Indian sorcerer came to a wigwam where there was a\nman who had a very handsome daughter.\n\nThe magician wished to win the girl; the father made up his mind that\nhe should not have her.\n\nThe magician told them that he was very wealthy, and had a great lodge\nfilled with furs and wampum. It was of no use.\n\nThen he told the father that if he would go and cast his lines in a\ncertain place he would catch as many of the finest fish as he wanted.\nThe old man went, but took his daughter with him.\n\nWhen they returned, loaded with fish, the magician, smiling, said to\nthe girl with great mystery, \"When you have cooked _these_ fish,\nalways throw away the tail, and begin by eating the head first.\"\n\nHe knew very well that her curiosity and perversity would make her\ndisobey him. She waited with impatience till the man had left, when she\nhurried to cook and eat the fish. Thereby she became a mother, and the\nmagician had his revenge.\n\n\n\n\n_Origin of the Black Snakes._\n\n(Passamaquoddy.)\n\n\nFar away, very far in the north, there dwelt by the border of a great\nlake a man and his wife. They had no children, and the woman was very\nbeautiful and passionate.\n\nThe lake was frozen over during the greater part of the year. One day\nwhen the woman cut away the ice, she saw in the water a bright pair of\nlarge eyes looking steadily at her. They charmed her so that she could\nnot move. Then she distinguished a handsome face; it was that of a fine\nslender young man. He came out of the water. His eyes seemed brighter\nand more fascinating than ever; he glittered from head to foot; on his\nbreast was a large shining silvery plate.\n\nThe woman learned that this was At-o-sis, the Serpent, but she returned\nhis embraces and held conversation with him, and was so charmed with\nher lover that she not only met him more than once every day, but even\nwent forth to see him in the night.\n\nHer husband, noticing these frequent absences asked her why she went\nforth so frequently. She replied, \"To get the fresh air.\"\n\nThe weather grew warmer; the ice left the lake; grass and leaves were\ngrowing. Then the woman waited till her husband slept, and stole out\nfrom the man whom she kissed no more, to the lover whom she fondled and\nkissed more than ever.\n\nAt last the husband's suspicions being fairly aroused, he resolved to\nwatch her. To do this he said that he would be absent for three days.\nBut he returned at the end of the first day, and found that she was\nabsent. As she came in he observed something like silvery scales on the\nlogs. He asked what they were. She replied, _Brooches_. [Footnote:\n_Nskmahn'l_: coins of all sizes hammered out by the Indians and\nmade into pin-brooches.]\n\nHe was still dissatisfied, and said that he would be gone for one day.\nHe went to the top of a hill not far distant, whence he watched her.\nShe went to the shore, and sat there. By and by there rose up out of\nthe lake, at a distance, what seemed to be a brightly shining piece of\nice. It came to the strand and rose from the water. It was a very tall\nand very handsome man, dressed in silver. His wife clasped the bright\nstranger in her arms, kissing him again and again.\n\nThe husband was awed by this strange event. He went home, and tried to\npersuade his wife to leave the place and to return to her people. This\nshe refused to do. He departed; he left her forever. But her father and\nmother came to find her. They found her there; they dwelt with her.\nEvery day she brought to them furs and meat. They asked her whence she\ngot them. \"I have another husband,\" she replied; \"one who suits me. The\none I had was bad, and did not use me well. This one brings all the\nanimals to me.\" Then she sent them away with many presents, telling\nthem not to return until the ice had formed; that was in the autumn.\n\nWhen they returned she had become white. She was with young, and soon\ngave birth to her offspring. It consisted of many serpents. The parents\nwent home. As they departed she said to them, \"When you come again you\nmay see me, but you will not know me.\"\n\nYears after some hunters, roaming that way, remembered the tale, and\nlooked for the wigwam. It was there, but no one was in it. But all the\nwoods about the place were full of great black snakes, which would rise\nup like a human being and look one in the face, then glide away without\ndoing any harm.\n\n\n\n\nTHE PARTRIDGE\n\n_The Adventures of the Great Hero Pulowech, or the Partridge._\n\n(Micmac.)\n\n\n_Wee-yig-yik-keseyook_. A tale of old times. Two men once lived\ntogether in one wigwam in the woods, on the border of a beautiful lake.\nMany hard-wood trees made their pictures in it. One of these Indians\nwas Pulowech, the Partridge in the Micmac tongue, but who is called by\nthe Passamaquoddy Mitchihess; but the other was Wejek (M.), the Tree\nPartridge.\n\nNow it befell that one day Pulowech was walking along the shore, when\nit was winter, and he beheld three girls, fair and fine, with flowing\nhair, sitting on the ice braiding their locks. Then he knew that they\nwere of the fairy kind, who dwell in the water; and, verily, these were\nplentier of old than they are now,--to our sorrow be it said, for they\nwere good company for the one who could get them. And Pulowech, knowing\nthis, said, \"I will essay this thing, and perchance I may catch one or\ntwo of them; which will be a great comfort, for a pretty girl is a nice\nthing to have about the wigwam.\" So he sought to secure them by\nstealing softly along; but one cried, \"_Ne miha skedap_!\" \"I see a\nman!\" P., and they all went head over heels, first best time, into the\nwater; and verily that was a cold duck for December in the Bay of\nFundy.\n\nBut though Pulowech had never hunted for sea-girls, yet he had fished\nfor seals, who are greatly akin unto them, being almost as slippery;\nand wotting well that no man hath the mitten till he is refused thirty\ntimes and many more, he went about it in another wise. For this time he\ngat many fir boughs, strewing them about as if blown by the wind, and\nhiding himself behind them, again came up and made a sudden dart. Then\nthe maids, crying as before, \"_Ne miha skedap_!\" \"I see a, man!\"\nwent with a dive into the deep. But this time he caught, if not the\nhair, at least the hair-string, of the fairest, which remained in his\nhand. And, gazing on this, it came into his mind that he had got that\nwhich was her charm, or life, and that she could not live without it,\n[Footnote: The magic hair-string plays a part in many of these tales.\nIt belongs to the sorcery of all the world in all ages.] or her\ncherished _sakultobee_ (M.). And taking it home, he tied it to the\nplace in the wigwam above that wherein he slept. Nor had he waited long\nbefore she came, and, with little ado, remained with him as his wife.\n\nNow Pulowech, being himself addicted to sorcery, knew that there were\ndivers knaves of the same stamp prowling about the woods, who would\nmake short work of a wife if they could find a plump young one in the\nway,--they being robbers, ravishers, and cannibals withal. Therefore he\nwarned his bride to keep well within doors when he was away, and to\nopen to none, which she, poor soul, meant to obey with all her might.\nBut being alone at midnight, and hearing a call outside, even\n\"_Pantahdooe_!\" M., \"Open the door to me!\" she wondered greatly who\nit might be. And it was a very wicked wizard, a _boo-oin_, or\npow-wow; and he, being subtle and crafty, and knowing of her family,\nso imitated the voices of her brothers and sisters; beseeching her to let\nthem in, that her very heart ached. \"O sister, we have come from afar!\"\nthey cried. \"We missed you, and have followed you. Let us in!\" And yet\nagain she heard a sad and very earnest voice, and it was that of her\nold mother, crying, \"_N'toos', n'toos', pantahdooe_!\" M., \"My\ndaughter! my daughter! open unto me!\" and she verily wist that it must\nbe so. But when she heard the voice of her dear old father, shaking and\nsaying, \"_Pantahdooe loke cyowchee_!\" \"Open the door, for I am very\ncold!\" she could resist no more, and, springing up, opened it to those\nwho were without. And then the evil sorcerers, springing on her like\nmad wolves, dragged her away and devoured her. They did not leave two\nof her little bones one with another. [Footnote: This Indian Little Red\nRiding-Hood story is very effective. The wolfish sorcerers bursting in\nat midnight are even more terrible, from a nursery melodramatic point,\nthan the old wolf in bed.]\n\nNow when _Wejek_, the Tree Partridge, came in and found his\nfriend's wife gone, he was so angry that, without waiting, he set forth\nto seek her. And this was not wisely done, since, falling among them,\nhe was himself slain. Then Pulowech, returning last of all, and finding\nno one, sought by means of magic to know where friend and wife might\nbe. For taking a _woltes_, or a wooden dish, he filled it with\nwater, and charmed it with a spell, and placed it in the back part of\nhis wigwam, just opposite the door. So he laid him down to sleep, and\nin the morning when he arose he looked upon the dish,--even the dish of\ndivination,--and lo! it was half full of blood. Then he knew that the\ntwain had been murdered.\n\nThen gathering all his arms, he went forth for revenge, and passed many\ndays on the path, tracking the _boo-oin_; and having the eyesight\nof sorcery, he one day beheld very far away, upon an exceeding high\ncliff, the knee of a man sticking out of the stone, and knew that a\nsorcerer had hidden himself in the solid rock, even as a child might\nhide itself in a pile of feathers. Then throwing his tomahawk he cut\naway the knee, and the _boo-oin_, his spell broken, remained hard\nand fast forever in the ledge. And yet, anon, a little further on, he\nsaw a foot projecting from a wall, and this he likewise cut off, and\nwith that he had slain two.\n\nAnd as he went further he found by the way a poor little squirrel, even\n_Meeko_, who was crawling along, half dead, in sorry plight. And\ntaking her up he made her well, and placing her in his bosom, said,\n\"Rest there yet a while, _Meeko_, for thou must fight to-day, and\nthat fiercely. Yet fear not, for I will stand by thee, and when I tap\nthy back, then shalt thou bring forth thy young!\"\n\nThen going ever on, he saw from the mountains far in a lake below a\nflock of wild geese sporting merrily, even the _Senum-kwak'_. But\nhe wist right well that these also were of the _boo-oin_, whom he\nsought, and placing a spell on his bow, and singing a charm over his\narrows that they should not miss, he slew the wild fowl one by one, and\ntying their heads together, he carried them in a bunch upon his back.\nAnd truly he deemed it a good bag of game for one day.\n\nAnd yet further on he came to a wigwam, and entering it saw a man there\nseated, whom he knew at once was of the enemy. For he who sat there\nglared at him grimly; he did not say to him, \"_'Kutakumoogwal!_\" \"Come\nhigher up!\" as they do who are hospitable. But having cooked some meat,\nand given it in a dish to Pulowech's hand, he snatched it back again,\nand said he would sooner give it to his dog. And this he did more than\nonce, saying the same thing. But Pulowech kept quiet. Then the rude man\nsaid, \"Hast thou met with aught to-day, thou knave?\" And the guest\nreplied, \"Truly I saw a fellow's knee sticking out of a stone, and I\ncut it off. And yet, anon, I saw a foot coming from a rock, and this I\nalso chopped. And further on there was a flock of wild geese, and them\nI slew; there was not one left,--no, not one. And if you will look\nwithout there you may see them all dead, and much good may it do you!\"\n\nThen the savage sorcerer burst forth in all his rage: \"Come on, then,\nour dogs must fight this out!\" \"Thou sayest well,\" replied Pulowech;\n\"truly I am fond of a good dog-fight, so bring out thy pup!\" And that\nwhich the man brought forth was terrible; for it was no dog, but a\nhideous savage beast, known to Micmacs as the _Weisum_. [Footnote:\nThe _Amarok_ of the Eskimo.]\n\nBut that which Pulowech produced was quite as different from a dog as\nwas the _Weisum_; for it was only _Meeko_, a poor little\nsquirrel, and half dead at that, which he laid carefully before the\nfire that it might revive. [Footnote: In another version of this story,\nthe savage stranger puts up a real dog against the squirrel; and in the\nstory of Glooskap, it is that great man who makes the squirrel great or\nsmall.] But anon it began to revive, and grew until it was well-nigh as\ngreat as the _Weisum_. And then there was indeed a battle as of\ndevils and witches; he who had been a hundred miles away might have\nheard it.\n\nBut anon it seemed that the _Weisum_ was getting the better of\n_Meeko_. Then Pulowech did but tap the squirrel on the back, when\nlo! she brought forth two other squirrels, and these grew in an instant\nto be as large as their mother, and the three were soon too many for\nthe beast. \"Ho! call off your dogs!\" cried the _boo-oin_; \"you\nhave beaten. But spare mine, since, indeed, he does not belong to me,\nbut to my grandmother, who is very fond of him.\" [Footnote: This\ntrivial episode of begging a call-off seems to have deeply impressed\nthe Indians, who are generally sporting-men, since I find it in both\nthe Passamaquoddy and Micmac versions of the legend.]\n\nPulowech, who held to his own in all things like a wolverine, was the\nlast man alive to think of, and he encouraged the squirrels until they\nhad torn the _Weisum_ to rags.\n\nThen he who had staked it, bitterly lamented, saying, \"Alack, my poor\ngrandmother! Alas, how she will wail when she hears that her\n_Weisum_ is dead! Woe the day that ever I did put him up! Alas, my\ngrandmother!\" For all which the cruel Pulowech, the hard-hearted,\nimpenitent Partridge, did not care the hair of a dead musk-rat.\n\nNow the host, who had thus suddenly grown so tender-hearted, said, \"Let\nus sail forth upon the river in a canoe.\" Then they were soon on the\nstream, and rushing down a rapid like a dart. And anon they came to a\nterribly high cliff, in which there was a narrow cavern into which the\nriver ran. And on it, thundering through this door of death, borne on a\nboiling surge, the bark was forced furiously into darkness. And\nPulowech sat firmly in his seat, and steered the boat with steady,\ncertain hand; but just as he entered the horrible hole, glancing\naround, he saw the sorcerer leap ashore. For the evil man, believing\nthat no one had ever come alive out of the cavern, had betrayed him\ninto it.\n\nYet ever cool and calm the mighty man went on, for danger now was\nbringing out all the force of his magic; [Footnote: It is very\ncharacteristic of the heroes of these Indian tales that they gradually\nunfold or develop from small characteristics to very great ones. There\nis a lesson in this, and it has been perfectly appreciated by poets and\nsimilar sorcerers.] and soon the stream grew smoother, the rocks\ndisappeared from its bed, and then from afar there was a brightness,\nand he was soon in the daylight and sunshine on a beautiful stream,\nand by the banks thereof there grew the _wabeyu-beskwan_, or\nwater-lilies, and very pleasant it was to him to feel the wind again.\nSo using his paddle he saw a smoke rising from a cave in the rocks,\nAnd landing and softly stepping up heard talking within.\n\nNor had he listened long ere he knew the voice of the man who had lured\nhim into the canoe, and he was telling his grandmother how, one after\nthe other, all the best _boo-oin_ of their band had been slain by\na mighty sorcerer. But when she heard from him how her beloved, or the\none who had inspired the _Weisum_, had been beaten, her wrath\nburst forth in a storm, like the raving of devils, like a mad wind on\nthe waves. And she said, \"If Pulowech were but before me, were he but\nalive, I would roast him.\" The man, hearing this, cried, \"Aye; but he\nis _not_ alive, for I sent him afloat down into the dark cavern!\"\n\nAnd then Pulowech, stepping in before them, said, \"And yet I am alive.\nAnd do thou, woman, _bak sok bok sooc_!\" (roast me to death). Then\nshe scowled horribly at him, but said naught; and he, sitting down,\nlooked at them.\n\nThis woman was of the Porcupines, who are never long without raising\ntheir quills, and they are fond of heat. Now there was in the cave much\nhemlock bark, and this she began to heap on the fire. Then it blazed,\nit crackled and roared; but Pulowech sat still, and said naught,\nneither did his eyes change. And he called unto himself all his might,\nthe might of his magic did he awaken, and the spirit came unto him very\nterribly, so that all the _boo-oin_, with their vile black\nwitchcraft, were but as worms before him, the Great and Terrible One.\nAnd when the fire had burned low he brought in by his will great store\nof bark, so that the whole cave was filled, and closing the door he\nlighted the fuel. Then the Porcupines, who were those who had slain his\nwife and friend, howled for mercy, but he was deaf as a stone to their\ncries. Then the roof and sides of the cavern cracked with the heat, the\nred-hot stones fell in heavy blocks, the red flames rose in the\nthickest smoke, but Pulowech sat and sang his song until the witch and\nwizard were burned to cinders; yea, till their white bones crumbled to\nashes beneath his feet. And then he arose and went unto his home.\n[Footnote: In this Micmac legend, which is plainly a poem, there is one\nvery striking and original element in the art with which the great\nknowledge and power of Pulowech are kept out of sight until towards the\nfinal unfolding. When he picks up the Squirrel it is with a full\ncomprehension that he will be confronted with the _Weisum_. From\nthe beginning to the end, he is master of the situation; all goes on\nwith him like the unfolding of Fate in a Greek tragedy, until the end,\nwhen, stern and unpitying, he sits in the cavern of fire and sees his\nenemies roasted alive before him.--From the Rand Manuscript.]\n\nIn this legend the hero passes the mysterious river which separates in\nseveral Indian tales the ordinary world from that where the evil\ngiants, Jotuns, sorcerers, or witches live. It appears to correspond\nexactly to \"the stream called Ifing, which divides the earth between\nthe Jotuns and the Gods.\" (Edda, Vafthrudnismal, 16.) The attempt by\nthe Porcupine host to roast the guest alive and its failure bears\nmarked likeness to the scene in the Grimnismal, in which King Geirrod\nvainly strives to roast his guest, Odin, and is himself slain.\n\n  \"Fire, thou art hot,\n  and much too great;\n  flame, let us separate.\"\n\nThe grandeur of Odin and the behavior of the Indian are set forth in a\nstrikingly similar manner in both narratives. If any modern poet had\ndepicted this incident in so like a style, every critic would have\ncried out plagiarism!\n\n\n\n\n_The Story of a Partridge and his Wonderful Wigwam._\n\n\nOnce a man was traveling through the woods, and he heard afar off a\nsound as of footsteps beating the ground. So he sought to find the\npeople that made it, and went on for a full week ere he came to them.\nAnd it was a man and his wife dancing about a tree, in the top of which\nwas a Raccoon. They had, by their constant treading, worn a trench in\nthe ground; indeed, they were in it up to their waists. [Footnote: To\ndance away the ground, or walk knee-deep in it, was characteristic of\nwizards. So was the hearing of any sound at an apparently incredible\ndistance. To an Indian mind this tale is weird and wonderful from the\nfirst words thereof.] Then, being asked why they did this strange\nthing, they answered that, being hungry, they were trying to dance down\nthe tree to catch the Raccoon.\n\nThen the man who had come said, \"Truly there is a newer and better way\nof felling trees, which has lately come into the land.\" As they wished\nto know what this might be, he showed them how to cut it down, and did\nso; making it a condition that if they got the game they might have the\nmeat and he should get the skin. So when the tree fell they caught the\nanimal, and the woman, having tanned the skin, gave it to the man, and\nhe went his way.\n\nAnd being afar, in a path in the forest, he met another man, and was\ngreatly amazed at him because he was bearing on his head a house, or a\nlarge birch wigwam of many rooms. He was frightened at first at such a\nsight, but the man, putting down his house, shook hands with him, and\nseemed to be a right honest good fellow. Then while they smoked and\ntalked, the Man of the House, seeing the skin of _Hespuns_, or\nthat of the Raccoon, in the other's belt, said, \"Well, that is a fine\npelt! Where did you get it, brother?\" And he, answering, told all the\nstory of the Dancing Man and Wife; whereupon he of the House became\nmightily anxious to buy it, offering one thing after another for it,\nand at last the House, which was accepted. And, examining it, the buyer\nwas amazed to find how many rooms it contained, and how full it was of\ngood furniture. \"Truly,\" said he, \"I can never carry this as you do!\"\n\"Yes, you can,\" replied the _Pil-wee-mon-soo-in_ (P., one who\nbelongs somewhere else,--a stranger). \"Do but try it!\" So he essayed\nand lifted it easily, for he found it as light as any _bassinode_\nor basket.\n\nSo they parted and he went on carrying his cabin till night-fall, when\ncoming to a hard-wood ridge, near a good spring of water, he resolved\nto settle there. [Footnote: A hard-wood ridge; that is, where there is\nplenty of birch, ash, and such trees as are necessary for baskets,\ndishes, canoes, and other Indian wants. Hence it is mentioned in many\ntales as a desirable place to live.] And, searching, he found a room in\nwhich there was a very fine bed, covered with a _white bear-skin_.\n[Footnote: A sure indication of sorcery.] And as it was very soft, and\nhe was very weary, he slept well.\n\nIn the morning, when he awoke, what was his astonishment and delight to\nsee above him, hanging to the beams, all kinds of nice provisions,--\nvenison, hams, ducks, baskets of berries and of maple-sugar, with many\nears of Indian corn. And as he, in his joy, stretched out his arms and\nmade a jump towards all these dainties, behold the white bear-skin\nmelted and ran away, for it was the snow of winter; and his arms spread\nforth into wings, and he flew up to the food, which was the early buds\nof the birch, on which they hung. [Footnote: Birch-buds are the food of\nthe partridge. The unexpected ending of this tale signifies the sudden\nreturn of spring. As told by an Indian, it is very effective. This tale\nwas told me by Tomah Josephs.] And he was a Partridge, who after the\nmanner of his kind had been wintering under a snow-drift, and now came\nforth to greet the pleasant spring.\n\n\n\n\n_How the Partridge built Good Canoes for all the Birds, and a Bad One\nfor Himself._\n\n\nWhen a partridge beats upon a hollow log he makes a noise like an\nIndian at work upon a canoe, and when an Indian taps at a canoe it\nsounds afar off like the drumming of a partridge, even of\n_Mitchihess_. And this comes because that _N'karnayoo_, of\nancient days, the Partridge, was the canoe builder for all the other\nbirds. Yes, for all at once.\n\nAnd on a certain day they every one assembled, and each got into his bark,\nand truly it was a brave sight to see. First of all _Kicheeplagon_,\nthe Eagle, entered his great shell and paddled off, using the ends of his\nwings; and then came _Ko-ko-kas_, the Owl, doing the same; and,\n_Kosqu'_, the Crane, _Wee-sow-wee-hessis_, the Bluebird,\n_Tjidge-is-skwess_, the Snipe, and _Meg-sweit-tchip-sis_,\nthe Blackbird, all came sailing proudly after. Even the tiny\n_A-la-Mussit_, the Humming-Bird, had a dear little boat, and for\nhim the good Partridge had made a pretty little paddle, only that\nsome thought it rather large, for it was almost an inch long. And\n_Ishmegwess_, the Fish-Hawk, who lived on the wing, cried in\namazement, \"_Akweden skouje_!\" \"A canoe is coming!\" when he\nbeheld this beautiful squadron standing out to sea.\n\nBut when _Mitchihess_, the great builder, was asked why he had not\nbuilt a canoe for himself, he merely looked mysterious and drummed. And\nbeing further questioned by the birds, he shook his head, and at last\nhinted that when he built a canoe unto himself it would be indeed a\nmarvel; yea, a wonder such as even birds' eyes had never beheld,--an\nentire novelty, and something to dream of. And this went on for many\ndays.\n\nBut in due time it was noised abroad that the wonderful canoe had at\nlast been really built, and would soon be shown. And at an appointed\ntime all the birds assembled on the banks to behold this new thing. Now\nthe Partridge had reasoned that if a boat having two ends could be\nrowed in two ways, one which was all ends, all round, could be rowed in\nevery way. So he had made a canoe which was exactly like a nest, or\nperfectly round. And this idea had greatly amazed the honest feathered\nfolk, who were astonished that so simple a thing had not occurred to\nall of them.\n\nBut what was their wonder when Partridge, having entered his canoe and\nproceeded to paddle, made no headway at all; for it simply turned round\nand round, and ever and again the same way, let him work it as he\nwould. And after wearying himself and all in vain, he went ashore, and,\nflying far inland, hid himself for very shame under the low bushes, on\nthe earth, where he yet remains. This is the reason why he never seeks\nthe sea or rivers, and has ever since remained an inland bird.\n[Footnote: Having met Mr. Louis Mitchell, the Indian member of the\nlegislature in Maine, one day in Eastport, I asked him to occupy the\nfew minutes which would pass before I should take the steamboat for\nCalais by telling me a story. He complied by narrating the foregoing.\nIt is very remarkable that the Indian story-tellers of ancient days\nshould have taken it into their heads to satirize an idea which has\nbeen of late carried out completely by the Russian Admiral Popoff, in\nhis celebrated circular war steamer. The story and all the Indian words\nin it are Passamaquoddy.]\n\n\n\n\n_The Mournful Mystery of the Partridge-Witch; setting forth how a\nYoung Man died from Love._\n\n\nOf the olden time. Two brothers went hunting in the autumn, and that as\nfar as the head waters of the Penobscot, where they remained all\nwinter. But in March their snow-shoes (_agahmook_, P.) gave out,\nas did their moccasins, and they wished that a woman were there to mend\nthem.\n\nWhen the younger brother returned first to the lodge, the next day,--\nwhich he generally did, to get it ready for the elder,--he was\nastonished to find that some one had been there before him, and that,\ntoo, in the housekeeping. For garments had been mended, the place\ncleaned and swept, a fire built, and the pot was boiling. He said\nnothing of this to his brother; but returning the next day at the same\ntime, found that all had been attended to, as at first. And again he\nsaid nothing; but in the morning, when he went forth to hunt, he did\nbut go a little way, and, returning, watched, from a hidden place, the\ndoor. And there came a beautiful and graceful girl, well attired, who\nentered the wigwam. And he, stepping softly, looking through a hole in\nthe hut, saw her very busy with his housekeeping.\n\nThen he entered, and she seemed to be greatly alarmed and confused; but\nhe calmed her, and they soon became good friends, sporting together\nvery happily all day long like children, for indeed they were both\nyoung.\n\nWhen the sun's height was little and his shadows long, the girl said,\n\"I must go now. I hear your brother coming, and I fear him. But I will\nreturn to-morrow. _Addio_!\" So she went, and the elder brother knew\nnothing of what had happened. The next day she came again, and once\nmore they played in sunshine and shadow until evening; but ere she went\nhe sought to persuade her to remain always. And she, as if in doubt,\nanswered, \"Tell thy brother all, and it may be that I will stay and\nserve ye both. For I can make the snow-shoes and moccasins which ye so\nmuch need, and also canoes.\" Then she departed with the day, and the\nelder, returning, heard from his brother all that had happened, and\nsaid, \"Truly I should be glad to have some one here to take care of the\nwigwam and make snow-shoes.\" So she came in the morning, and hearing\nfrom the younger that his brother had consented to her coming was very\nglad, and went away, as in haste. But she returned about noon, drawing\na _toboggin_ (sled) piled up with garments and arms, for she was a\nhuntress. Indeed, she could do all things as few women could, whether\nit were cooking, needle-work, or making all that men need. And the\nwinter passed very pleasantly, until the snow grew soft, and it was\ntime for them to return. Till she came they had little luck in hunting,\nbut since her coming all had gone well with them, and they now had a\nwonderful quantity of furs.\n\nThen they returned in a canoe, going down the river to their village.\nBut as they came near it the girl grew sad, for she had thrown out her\nsoul to their home, though they knew it not, by _meelahbi-give_.\n[Footnote: Passamaquoddy: Clairvoyance, or state of vision.] And\nsuddenly she said, as they came to a point of land, \"Here I must leave.\nI can go no further. Say nothing of me to your parents, for your father\nwould have but little love for me.\" And the young men sought to\npersuade her, but she only answered sorrowfully, \"It cannot be.\" So\nthey came home with their furs, and the elder was so proud of their\nluck and their strange adventure that he could not hold his peace, but\ntold all.\n\nThen his father was very angry, and said, \"All my life have I feared\nthis. Know that this woman was a devil of the woods, a witch of the\nMitche-hant, a sister of the _Oonahgamess_ [Footnote: P. Goblins\nand ghosts.] and of the _Ke'tahks_.\" And he spoke so earnestly and\nso long of this thing that they were afraid, and the elder, being\npersuaded by the sire, went forth to slay her, and the younger followed\nhim afar. So they sought her by the stream, and found her bathing, and,\nseeing them, she ran up a little hill. And, as she ran, the elder shot\nan arrow at her. Then there was a strange flurry about her, a\nfluttering of scattered feathers, and they saw her fly away as a\npartridge. Returning, they told all this to their father, who said,\n\"You did well. I know all about these female devils who seek to destroy\nmen. Verily this was a she Mikumwess.\" [Footnote: P. The Mikumwess is a\nRobin Goodfellow, who plays pranks on people, or treats them kindly,\naccording to his caprice.]\n\nBut the younger could not forget her, and longed to see her again; so\none day he went into the woods, and there he indeed found her, and she\nwas as kind as before. Then he said, \"Truly it was not by my goodwill\nthat my brother shot at you.\" And she answered, \"Well do I know that,\nand that it was all by your father; yet I blame him not, for this is an\naffair of _N'karnayoo_, the days of old; and even yet it is not at\nan end, and the greatest is to come. But let the day be only a day unto\nitself; the things of to-morrow are for to-morrow, and those of\nyesterday are departed.\" So they forgot their troubles, and played\ntogether merrily all day long in the woods and in the open places, and\ntold stories of old times till sunset. And as, the _Kah-kah-goos_,\nor Crow, went to his tree, the boy said, \"I must return;\" and she\nreplied, \"Whenever you would see me, come to the woods. And remember\nwhat I say. Do not marry any one else. For your father wishes you to do\nso, and he will speak of it to you, and that soon. Yet it is for your\nsake only that I say this.\" Then she told him word by word all that his\nfather had said; but he was not astonished, for now he knew that she\nwas not as other women; but he cared not. And he grew brave and bold,\nand then he was above all things. And when she told him that if he\nshould marry another he would surely die, it was as nothing to him.\n\nThen returning, the first thing his father said was, \"My son, I have\nprovided a wife for you, and the wedding must be at once.\" And he said,\n\"It is well. Let it be so.\" Then the bride came. For four days they\nheld the wedding dance; four days they feasted. But on the last day he\nsaid, \"This is the end of it all,\" and he laid him down on a white\nbear-skin, and a great sickness came upon him, and when they brought\nthe bride to him he was dead.\n\nTruly the father knew what ailed him, and more withal, of which he said\nnothing. But he liked the place no longer, and he and his went away\ntherefrom, and scattered far and wide.\n\nThis strange story recalls the Undine of La Motte Fouque. There is in\nit an element of mystery and destiny, equal in every way to anything in\nGerman literature. The family secret, touched on but never explained,\nwhich ends in such a death, is, speaking from an artistic point of\nview, very skillfully managed. It must be borne in mind that in this,\nas in most of these tales, there are associations and chords which make\nas gold to an Indian that which is only copper, or at best silver, to\nthe civilized reader of my translations.\n\nThere is a characteristic feature of this story superior to anything in\nUndine. It is the growth in the hero, when he knows the worst to come,\nof that will, or stoicism, or complete indifference to fate, which the\nIndians regard as equivalent to attaining _m'teoulin_, or magic\npower. When a man has in him such courage that nothing earthly can do\nmore than increase it, he has attained to what is in one sense at least\n_Nirvana_. From an Algonquin point of view the plot is perfect.\n\nI have given this story accurately as it was told to me by Tomah\nJosephs, a Passamaquoddy Indian.\n\n\n\n\n_How one of the Partridge's Wives became a Sheldrake Duck, and why\nher Feet and Feathers are Red._\n\n\n_N'karnayoo_, of the old time, there was a hunter who lived in the\nwoods. He had a brother, [Footnote: The word brother is so generally\napplied in adoption or friendship that it cannot here be taken in a\nliteral sense. The brother in this case seems to have been a goblin or\nspirit.] who was so small that he kept him in a box, and when he went\nforth he closed this very carefully, for fear lest an evil spirit\n(Mitche-hant) should get him.\n\nOne day this hunter, returning, saw a very beautiful girl sitting on a\nrock by a river, making a moccasin. And being in a canoe he paddled up\nsoftly and silently to capture her; but she, seeing him coming, jumped\ninto the water and disappeared. On returning to her mother, who lived\nat the bottom of the river, she was told to go back to the hunter and\nbe his wife; \"for now,\" said the mother, \"you belong to that man.\"\n\nThe hunter's name was Mitchihess, the Partridge. When she came to his\nlodge he was absent. So she arranged everything for his return, making\na bed of boughs. At night he came back with one beaver. This he\ndivided; cooked one half for supper and laid by the other half. In the\nmorning when she awoke he was gone, and the other half of the beaver\nhad also disappeared. That night he returned with another beaver, and\nthe same thing took place again. Then she resolved to spy and find out\nwhat all this meant.\n\nSo she laid down and went to sleep, wide awake, with one eye open. Then\nhe quietly rose and cooked the half of the beaver, and taking a key\n(_Apkwosgehegan_, P.) unlocked a box, and took out a little red\ndwarf and fed him. Replacing the elf, he locked him up again, and lay\ndown to sleep. And the small creature had eaten the whole half beaver.\nBut ere he put him in his box he washed him and combed his hair, which\nseemed to delight him.\n\nThe next morning, when her husband had gone for the day, the wife\nsought for the key, and having found it opened the box and called to\nthe little fellow to come out. This he refused to do for a long time,\nthough she promised to wash and comb him. Being at length persuaded, he\npeeped out, when she pulled him forth. But whenever she touched him her\nhands became red, though of this she took no heed, thinking she could\nwash it off at will. But lo! while combing him, there entered a hideous\nbeing, an awful devil, who caught the small elf from her and ran away.\n\nThen she was terribly frightened. And trying to wash her hands, the red\nstain remained. When her husband returned that night he had no game;\nwhen he saw the red stain he knew all that had happened; when he knew\nwhat had happened he seized his bow to beat her; when she saw him seize\nhis bow to beat her she ran down to the river, and jumped in to escape\ndeath at his hands, though it should be by drowning. But as she fell\ninto the water she became a sheldrake duck. And to this day the marks\nof the red stain are to be seen on her feet and feathers. [Footnote:\nRelated to me by Noel Josephs, a Passamaquoddy. Notwithstanding its\nresemblance to Blue Beard, it is probably in every detail a very old\nIndian tradition. It bears a slight resemblance to several far western\nlegends, which refer to peculiarities in the duck. It is partly\nrepeated in a Lox legend.]\n\n\n\n\nTHE INVISIBLE ONE.\n\n(Micmac.)\n\n\nThere was once a large Indian village situated on the border of a\nlake,--_Nameskeek' oodun Kuspemku_ (M.). At the end of the place\nwas a lodge, in which dwelt a being who was always invisible.\n[Footnote: In this Micmac tale, which is manifestly corrupted in many\nways, the hero is said to be \"a youth whose _teeomul_ (or tutelary\nanimal) was the moose,\" whence he took his name. In the Passamaquoddy\nversion nothing is said about a moose. A detailed account of the\ndifficulty attending the proper analysis of this tradition will be\nfound at the end of this chapter.] He had a sister who attended to his\nwants, and it was known that any girl who could see him might marry\nhim. Therefore there were indeed few who did not make the trial, but it\nwas long ere one succeeded:\n\nAnd it passed in this wise. Towards evening, when the Invisible One was\nsupposed to be returning home, his sister would walk with any girls who\ncame down to the shore of the lake. She indeed could see her brother,\nsince to her he was always visible, and beholding him she would say to\nher companions, \"Do you see my brother?\" And then they would mostly\nanswer, \"Yes,\" though some said, \"Nay,\"--_alt telovejich, aa\nalttelooejik_. And then the sister would say, \"_Cogoowa'\nwiskobooksich_?\" \"Of what is his shoulder-strap made?\" But as some\ntell the tale, she would, inquire other things, such as, \"What is his\nmoose-runner's haul?\" or, \"With what does he draw his sled?\" And they\nwould reply, \"A strip of rawhide,\" or \"A green withe,\" or something of\nthe kind. And then she, knowing they had not told the truth, would\nreply quietly, \"Very well, let us return to the wigwam!\"\n\nAnd when they entered the place she would bid them not to take a\ncertain seat, for it was his. And after they had helped to cook the\nsupper they would wait with great curiosity to see Him eat. Truly he\ngave proof that he was a real person, for as he took off his moccasins\nthey became visible, and his sister hung them up; but beyond this they\nbeheld nothing not even when they remained all night, as many did.\n\nThere dwelt in the village an old man, a widower, with three daughters.\nThe youngest of these was very small, weak, and often ill, which did\nnot prevent her sisters, especially the eldest, treating her with great\ncruelty. The second daughter was kinder, and sometimes took the part of\nthe poor abused little girl, but the other would burn her lands and\nface with hot coals; yes, her whole body was scarred with the marks\nmade by torture, so that people called her _Oochigeaskw_ (the\nrough-faced girl). And when her father, coming home, asked what it\nmeant that the child was so disfigured, her sister would promptly say\nthat it was the fault of the girl, herself, for that, having been\nforbidden to go near the fire, she had disobeyed and fallen in.\n\nNow it came to pass that it entered the heads of the two elder sisters\nof this poor girl that they would go and try their fortune at seeing\nthe Invisible One. So they clad themselves in their finest and strove\nto look their fairest; and finding his sister at home went with her to\ntake the wonted walk down to the water. Then when He came, being asked\nif they saw him, they said, \"Certainly,\" and also replied to the\nquestion of the shoulder-strap or sled cord, \"A piece of rawhide.\" In\nsaying which, they lied, like the rest, for they had seen nothing, and\ngot nothing for their pains.\n\nWhen their father returned home the next evening he brought with him\nmany of the pretty little shells from which _weiopeskool_ (M.),\nor wampum, was made, [Footnote: In Passamaquoddy wampum is called\n_waw-bap_. It is said that a single bead required a full day's work\nto make and finish it. It is not many years since it was made much more\nexpeditiously in certain New York villages.] and they were soon engaged\n_napawejik_ (in stringing them). That day poor little\nOochigeaskw', the burnt-faced girl, who had always run barefoot, got a\npair of her father's old moccasins, and put them into water that they\nmight become flexible to wear. And begging her sisters for a few wampum\nshells, the eldest did but call her \"a lying little pest,\" but the\nother gave her a few. And having no clothes beyond a few paltry rags,\nthe poor creature went forth and got herself from the woods a few\nsheets of birch bark, of which she made a dress, putting some figures\non the bark. [Footnote: Probably by scraping. Birch bark\n(_moskwe_) peeled in winter can have the thin dark brown coat\nscraped away, leaving a very light yellowish-brown ground. Tornah\nJosephs and his niece Susan, of Princeton, Maine, are experts at this\nwork.] And this dress she shaped like those worn of old. [Footnote:\nThis remark indicates the lateness of the Micmac version of this very\nold myth.] So she made a petticoat and a loose gown, a cap, leggins,\nand handkerchief, and, having put on her father's great old moccasins,--\nwhich came nearly up to her knees,--she went forth to try her luck.\nFor even this little thing would see the Invisible One in the great\nwigwam at the end of the village.\n\nTruly her luck had a most inauspicious beginning, for there was one\nlong storm of ridicule and hisses, yells and hoots, from her own door\nto that which she went to seek. Her sisters tried to shame her, and\nbade her stay at home, but she would not obey; and all the idlers,\nseeing this strange little creature in her odd array, cried \"Shame!\"\nBut she went on, for she was greatly resolved; it may be that some\nspirit had inspired her.\n\nNow this poor small wretch in her mad attire, with her hair singed off\nand her little face as full of burns and scars as there are holes in a\nsieve, was, for all this, most kindly received by the sister of the\nInvisible One; for this noble girl knew more than the mere outside of\nthings as the world knows them. And as the brown of the evening sky\nbecame black, she took her down to the lake. And erelong the girls knew\nthat He had come. Then the sister said, \"Do you see him?\" And the other\nreplied with awe, \"Truly I do,--and He is wonderful.\" \"And what is his\nsled-string?\" \"It is,\" she replied, \"the Rainbow.\" And great fear was\non her. \"But, my sister,\" said the other, \"what is his bow-string?\"\n\"His bowstring is _Ketaksoowowcht_\" (the Spirits' Road, the Milky\nWay). [Footnote: The Spirits' or Ghosts' Road, so called because it is\nbelieved to be the highway by which spirits pass to and from the earth.\nThe Micmac version, belittled and reduced in every way, limits this\nreply to \"a _piece_ of a rainbow.\" There is a grandeur of\nconception in the Passamaquoddy myth which recalls the most stupendous\nsimiles in Scripture.]\n\n\"Thou hast seen him,\" said the sister. And, taking the girl home, she\nbathed her, and as she washed all the scars disappeared from face and\nbody. Her hair grew again; it was very long, and like a blackbird's\nwing. Her eyes were like stars. In all the world was no such beauty.\nThen from her treasures she gave her a wedding garment, and adorned\nher. Under the comb, as she combed her, her hair grew. It was a great\nmarvel to behold.\n\nThen, having done this, she bade her take the _wife's seat_ in the\nwigwam,--that by which her brother sat, the seat next the door. And\nwhen He entered, terrible and beautiful, he smiled and said,\n\"_Wajoolkoos_!\" \"So we are found out!\" \"_Alajulaa_.\" \"Yes,\"\nwas her reply. So she became his wife. [Footnote: This is the true end of\nthis Indian Cupid and Psyche legend. But the Micmacs having, for no\napparent reason, made the Stupendous Deity of the Heavens a moose\n(Team), have added to it another for the sake of the name, and which I\ngive in due succession simply as an illustration of the manner in which\ntales are tacked together. I have very little doubt that the story as\nhere given is an old solar myth, worked up, perhaps, with the story of\nCinderella, derived from a Canadian-French source. There are enough of\nthese French-Indian stories in my possession alone to form what would\nmake one of the most interesting volumes of the series of the _Contes\nPopulaires_. The Passamaquoddy version is to this effect: \"There was\na great being, a mighty hunter, who had a wife, of wonderful magic\ngifts, and a boy; and the child became blind. After a long time his\nsight returned, and he said so; but his mother was suspicious, and did\nnot believe him.\" It is evident that she suspected that he saw by\n_clairvoyance_, not by literal vision. \"So one day she bade her\nhusband put on certain things which no one could behold who did not see\nthem in truth. Then she asked the boy, 'What has your father for a\nsled-string?' (literally for a moose-runner haul). And he replied, 'The\nrainbow to haul by.' Then she asked him yet again, 'What has he for a\nbow-string?' And he answered, '_Ke'taksoo wowcht_;' 'The Spirits'\nor Ghosts' Road.' And once more she inquired, 'What has he on his\nsled?' To which he said, 'A beaver.' Then she knew that he could indeed\nsee.\" (T. Josephs.)\n\nWe can perceive by shreds and patches such as these the _all but_\nloss of an early and grand mythology which has undergone the usual\ntransmutation into romantic and nursery legends. By great exertion we\nmight recover it, but the old Indians who retain its fragments are\npassing away rapidly, and no subject attracts so little interest among\nour _literati_. A few hundred dollars expended annually in each\nState would result in the collection of all that is extant of this\nfolk-lore; and a hundred years hence some few will, perhaps, regret\nthat it was not done.\n\nIt may be observed that in the Edda the rainbow is the heavenly road\nover which the gods pass. The rainbow is not the Milky Way, but it may\nbe observed that in this tale the two are curiously compared, or almost\nidentified. But according to Charles Francis Keary (_Mythology of the\nEddas_, London, 1882), \"there is small hint in the Edda of the use\nof the _rainbow_ as a path for souls, save where Helgi says to his\nwife,--\n\n  \"''Tis time for me to ride the ruddy road,\n  And on my horse to tread the path of flight,'\"\n\nwhich is more applicable to the Milky Way than the rainbow. \"We owe,\"\nhe says, \"to the learned Adalbert Kohn some researches which have\ntraced the path of the Milky Way as a bridge of souls from its first\nappearance in Eastern creeds to its later appearance in mediaeval\nGerman tradition.\" (_Zeitschrift f. v. Sp.l.c._) In the Vedas the\nMilky Way is called the Gods' Path. The American Indians firmly believe\nthat the Spirits' Road is one of their very earliest traditions, and I\nbelieve with them that they had it long before Columbus discovered this\ncountry.\n\nSince the foregoing remarks were written, Mrs. W. Wallace Brown has\nobtained the following fragment, which was given as a song, and\ndeclared to be very ancient:--\n\n  \"Then was woman, long, long ago:\n  She came out of a hole.\n  In it dead people were buried.\n  She made her house in a tree;\n  She was dressed in leaves,\n  All long ago.\n  When she walked among the dry leaves\n  Her feet were so covered\n  The feet were invisible.\n  She walked through the woods,\n  Singing all the time,\n  'I want company; I'm lonesome!'\n  A wild man heard her:\n  From afar over the lakes and mountains\n  He came to her.\n  She saw him; she was afraid;\n  She tried to flee away,\n  For he was covered with the rainbow;\n  Color and light were his garments.\n  She ran, and he pursued rapidly;\n  He chased her to the foot of a mountain.\n  He spoke in a strange language,\n  She could not understand him at first.\n  He would make her tell where she dwelt.\n  They married, they had two children.\n  One of them was a boy,\n  He was blind from his birth,\n  But he frightened his mother by his sight.\n  He could tell her what was coming,\n  What was coming from afar\n  What was near he could not see.\n  He could see the bear and the moose\n  Far away beyond the mountains,\n  He could see through everything.\"\n\n\nThe old Indian woman ended this story by saying abruptly, \"Don't know\nany more. Guess they all eat up by _mooin_\" (the bear). She said\nthat it was only a fragment. \"If you could have heard her repeat this,\"\nadds Mrs. Brown, \"in pieces, stopping to explain what the characters\nsaid, and describing how they looked, and anon singing it again, you\nwould have got the _inner sense_ of a wonderfully weird tale. The\nwoman's feet covering and the man's dress _like_ a rainbow, yet\nnot one, which made their bodies invisible, seemed to exercise her\nimagination strangely; and these were to her the most important part of\nthe story.\" The fragment is part of a very old myth; I regret to say a\nvery obscure one.]\n\n\n\n\nSTORY OF THE THREE STRONG MEN.\n\n(Micmac.)\n\n\nThere was a chieftain in the days of yore. He had a great desire for a\npoor girl who was a servant, and who worked for him. To win this girl\nhe first I most lose his wife. He took his wife afar into the woods to\ngather spruce-gum, and then left her there.\n\nShe soon found out that she had lost her way, and, wandering, she lost\nit more and more for many days, until she came at last to a bear's den,\nwhere, going in, she found the Chief of all the bears, who welcomed\nher, provided for her wants, and furnished her with pleasant food; but\nas the meat was raw he went into a neighboring town for fire. And as\nshe lived with him she was to him in all things as he wished, and as a\nwife.\n\nSo that it came to pass, as time went on, that a new-comer was\nexpected, and she bade the Bear provide the baby's clothes. And when\nthe long-expected infant came it was a boy, large, beautiful, and\nstrong; he was in everything beyond all other boys.\n\nAnd as the child was born in a strange way, he very soon displayed a\nmagic power. No baby ever grew so rapidly: when four months old he\nwrestled with the Bear and threw him easily upon the floor. And so the\nmother saw that he would be a warrior, and the chief of other men.\n\nShe loathed the life she led, and wished to leave, and live as she had\ndone in days of old. To this the Bear would in nowise consent, and as\nher son was human, like herself, he loved his mother best, and thought\nwith her.\n\nOne day he said, \"Now I can wrestle well and throw the Bear as often as\nI choose. When I next time cast him upon the ground, catch up a club;\nthe rest remains for you!\"\n\nThey waited yet a while till he had grown so strong that the Bear was\nnothing in his grasp. One day they wrestled as they ever did, and then\nthe woman, with a vigorous blow, strengthened by hate and famishing\ndesire of freedom and a better human life, laid him in death upon the\nmossy floor.\n\nThey went their way back to the chieftain's town, and found him married\nto the servant-girl. The mother only spoke, and the wild boy tore down\nthe wigwam of the Indian chief just with a blow, and then he called\naloud unto the Lightning in the sky above, \"Come down to me and help me\nin my need! Build a grand wigwam such as man ne'er saw! Build it, I\nsay, and for my mother here!\"\n\nThe Lightning came, and with a single flash built such a home as man\nhad never seen.\n\nAnd then he said, \"Mother, I mean to go and travel everywhere, until I\nfind another man who is as strong as I. When he is found I will return\nto thee.\"\n\nSo on he went afar until he saw a man who lifted up a vast canoe with\nmany people in it. This he did, raising it in the water; but the boy\nbore it ashore, and lifted it on land.\n\nAnd so the two agreed that they would go on together until they found a\nthird equal to them in strength, if such a man were living anywhere in\nall the world.\n\nSo traveling by hill and lake, they went, until one day, far in a\nlonely land, they saw a man rolling a mighty rock, large as the largest\nwigwam, up a hill. But the Bear's son, lifting the stone with ease,\nthrew it afar over the mountain-top,--threw it afar beyond the rocky\nrange; they heard it thunder down the depths below.\n\nThen the three strong men went to hunt the moose. He who had tossed the\nship remained in camp to do the cooking, while the others went with bow\nand spear afar to find their game.\n\nNow when the sun was at the edge of noon, just balancing to fall, there\ncame a boy, a little wretched, elfish-looking child, as sad and sickly\nas a boy could be, who asked the man for food. He answered him, \"Poor\nlittle fellow! there, the pot is full of venison, so go and eat your\nfill.\"\n\nHe ate, indeed, the dinner for the three. When he had done he did not\nleave a scrap; then walked into the stony mountain-side, as any man\nmight walk into the fog, and in a second he was seen no more.\n\nNow when the two returned and heard the tale they were right angry,\nbeing hungry men. The man; who rolled the stone stayed next in turn,\nbut when the I little fellow came to him he seemed so famished and he\nshed such tears that this one also gave him leave to eat. Then, in a\nsingle swallow, as it seemed, he bolted all the food, and yelled aloud\nwith an insulting laugh. The man, enraged, grappled him by the throat,\nbut the strange boy flung him away as one would throw a not, and\nvanished in the mountain as before.\n\nOn the third day the mighty man himself remained at home, and soon the\nstarveling child came and began to beg, with tears, for food. \"Eat,\"\nsaid the chief, \"as other people eat, and no more tricks, or I will\ndeal with you.\" But as it was with him the day before, so it went now;\nhe swallowed all the meat with the same jeering yell Then the strong\nman closed with the boy. It was an awful strife; they fought together\nfrom the early morn until the sun went down, and then the Elf--for elf\nhe was--cried out, \"I now give in!\" So both his arms were tightly bound\nbehind, and with a long, tough cord of plaited hide the strong man kept\nhis prey, the lariat fast noosed about his neck. The child went on, the\nstrong man ever following behind, holding the cord well twisted round\nhis hand.\n\nAnd so they went into the mountain-side, and ever on, a long and\nwinding way, down a deep cavern, on for many a mile,--the light of\nsorcery shining from the elf made it all clear,--until at last the\nguide stopped in ins course, and said:--\n\n\"Now list to me. I am the servant of a frightful fiend, a seven-beaded\ndevil, whom I deemed no man could ever conquer, he and I being of equal\nstrength; but I believe that thou mayst conquer him, since I have\nfound, by bitter proof, that thou canst conquer me. Here is a staff,\nthe only thing on earth that man may smite him with and give him pain.\nNow, do your best; it is all one to me which of you gains, so one of\nyou be slain, for well I wot 't will be a roaring fight.\"\n\nIn came the evil being with a scream, and clutched the Indian with\nteeth and claws. There, in the magic cavern, many a mile from the sun's\nrays, they fought for seven days, the stubborn devil and the stubborn\nman, whose savage temper gave him fresher strength with every fresh\nwound; the more his blood ran from his body all the more his heart grew\nharder with the love of fight, until he beat away the monster's seven\nheads. And so he slew him, and the watching elf burst into laughter at\nthe victory.\n\n\"Now,\" said the Elf, \"I have a gift for thee. I have three sisters: all\nare beautiful, and all shall be thine own if thou wilt but unbind my\nhands.\" The strong man set him free. And so he led the man to another\ncave, and there he saw three girls so strangely fair they seemed to be\na dream. The first, indeed, was very beautiful, and yet as plump as she\nwas lovely; then the second maid was tall, superb, and most\nmagnificent, in rarest furs, with richest wampum bands, the very\npicture of a perfect bride; bet fairer than them both, as much more\nfair as swans outrival ducks, the youngest smiled. And the young\nchieftain chose her for his own.\n\nWith the three girls he went into the day. Far on the rocks above him\nhe could see his two companions, and a sudden thought came to his mind,\nfor he was quick to think, and so he called, \"I say, let down a rope; I\nhave three girls here, and they cannot climb.\" And so the two strong\nmen let down a cord: then the first fairy-maid went up by it, and then\nthe second. Now the chief cried out, \"It is my turn; now you must pull\non me!\" And saying this, he tied a heavy stone, just his own weight,\nunto the long rope's end, then bid them haul. It rose, but as it came\njust to the top the traitors let it fall, as he supposed they would, to\nmurder him.\n\nAnd then the chieftain said unto the elf, \"You know the mountain and\nits winding ways: bear me upon thy back, and that in haste, to where\nthose fellows are!\" The goblin flew, and in an instant he was by their\nside.\n\nHe found the villains in a deadly fight, quarreling for the maids; but\nseeing him they ceased to wrestle, upon which he said, \"I risked my\nlife to bring away these girls; I would have given each of you a wife:\nfor doing this you would have murdered me. Now I could kill you, and\nyou both deserve death at the stake, vile serpents that you are; but\ntake your lives,--you are too low for me,--and with them take these\nwomen, if they wish to wed with such incarnate brutes as you!\"\n\nThey went their way; the women followed them along the forest paths,\nand ever on. Into this story they return no more.\n\nAnd then the strong man said to his young bride, \"I must return unto my\nvillage; then I'll come again to you; await me here.\" But she, as one\nto elfin magic born, replied, \"I warn you of a single thing. When you\nagain are at your wigwam door a small black dog will leap to lick your\nhand. Beware, I say; if he succeed in it, you surely will forget me\nutterly.\" As she predicted so it came to pass.\n\nAnd so she waited in the lonely wood beside the mountain till a month\nwas gone, and then arose and went to seek her love. All in the early\ndawn she reached the town, and found the wigwam of the sagamore. She\nsought a neighboring hiding-place, where she might watch unseen, and\nfound a tree, a broad old ash, which spread its stooping boughs over\nthe surface of a silent pool.\n\nAn old black Indian had a hut hard by. His daughter, coming, looked\ninto the spring, and saw a lovely face. The simple girl thought it was\nhers, her own grown beautiful by sorcery which hung about the place.\nShe flung away her pail, and said, \"Aha! I'll work no more; some chief\nshall marry me!\" and so she went to smile among the men.\n\nThen came the mother, who beheld the same sweet, smiling, also girlish\nface. She said, \"Now I am young and beautiful again; I'll seek another\nhusband, and at once.\" She threw her pail afar and went away, losing no\ntime to smile among the men.\n\nAnd then in turn the old black Indian came, and looking in the spring\nbeheld the face. He knew right well that it was not his own, for in his\nyouth he never had been fair. So looking up above he saw the bride, and\nbade her come to him; and then he said, \"My wife has gone away; my\ndaughter, too. You were the cause of it; it is but right that you\nshould take the place my wife has left. Therefore remain with me and be\nmy own.\"\n\nHe fares but ill who weds unwilling witch. When night came on they laid\nthem down to sleep, and then the bride murmured a magic prayer, begging\nthe awful Spirit of the Wind, the giant Eagle of the wilderness, to do\nhis worst. A fearful tempest blew, and all night long the old black\nIndian was out-of-doors, working with all his power to keep the lodge\nfrom being blown away. As soon as he had pinned one sheet of bark into\nits place another blew away, and then a tent pole rattling in the rain\nbounded afar. It was a weary work, but all night long the young bride\nslept in peace, until the morning came, and then he slept.\n\nThen she arose, and, walking to the wood, sat down beside a stream and\nsang a song:--\n\n  \"There are many men in the world,\n  But only one is dear to me.\n  He is good and brave and strong.\n  He swore to love none but me;\n  He has forgotten me.\n  It was a bad spirit that changed him,\n  But I will love none but him.\"\n\nAnd as she sat and sang, the sagamore her husband, paddling by in his\ncanoe, heard the sweet song intoned in magic style, [Footnote: Not only\nthe words, but the peculiar intonations of them, were essential to produce\nthe proper effect of a magic song. An intelligent white man has left it\non record that it required two years to learn one of these incantations\nof only a few lines.] and all at once recalled what had been lost,--the\ntwo strong giants, the cavern and the elf, the seven-headed monster and\nthe fight, the sisters and the evil-minded men, and the black dog who\nleaped to lick his hand: it flashed upon him like some early dream brought\nout by sorcery. He saw her sit beside the stream, and still he heard her\nsong, soft as a magic flute. He went to her, and in a minute he was won\nagain.\n\nAnd then she said, \"This world is ever false. I know another, let us go\nto it.\" So then again she sang a magic spell, and as she sang they saw\nthe great Culloo, the giant bird, broad as a thunder cloud, winging his\nway towards them. Then he came; they stepped upon him, and he soared\naway. But to this earth they never came again.\n\nThis very singular legend was obtained for me by Mrs. W. Wallace Brown.\nIt is from the Micmac, and is in the original from beginning to end a\nsong, or poem. For this reason I have given it a plain metrical form,\nneither prose nor poetry, such being quite the character of the\noriginal. But I, have not introduced anything not in the original.\n\nThis story consists of a very old Indian legend mingled with a European\nfairy tale drawn through a French-Canadian source. The incident of the\nElf who eats the food of three men is to be found in another tale. In\none version, the bride, finding that her husband, though utterly\ndeprived by magic of his memory, has married again, sails away on the\ngreat bird, leaving him forever. I have naturally rejected this\nsenseless termination in favor of one found in another form.\n\nThe calling on the Lightning to build a wigwam is probably a mistake.\nIt is more likely that it was summoned to destroy the chiefs wigwam,\nbut the narrator, confused with the subject of the hero's strength,\nchanged the original. The invocations of Lightning, and subsequently of\nthe Storm Bird are probably entirely Indian, though there are Norse\ninvocations to Hroesvelgar, or the Eagle of the Northwest, as we read\nin Scott's Pirate.\n\nThe black whelp or small black dog is in this tale ominous of evil. It\ncauses oblivion. In the Edda to dream of the same thing is the most\nevil of all Atli's bad dreams (vide the second lay of Gudrun, 41):--\n\n  \"Seemed to me from my hand\n  Whelps I let slip.\n  Lacking cause of joy;\"\n\nand in the very same song (24) be takes a potion which causes oblivion.\nBut there is even a third point in the Atlamal in Groenlenzku, which\nresembles one in the Indian tale. It is where the half enchantress\nKostbera warns Hogni against leaving her:\n\n  \"From home thou art going:\n  Give ear to counsel;\n  Few are fully prudent;\n  Go another time.\"\n\nIn the Norse lay we are told that to dream of a white bear indicates a\nstorm, but here it means a strange and terrible event. Long before I\nmet with this, I observed that the introduction, or mention, of a white\nbear-skin in these Indian stories invariably intimates some strange\nmagical change.\n\nBut it is most remarkable of all, that, while the poems of the Edda\nhave nothing but a very few incidents in common with the traditions of\nthe western tribes, they are inspired throughout with a strange and\nmysterious sentiment or _manner_ wonderfully like that of the\nWabanaki. As regards literal resemblance the following coincidences may\nhere be noted.\n\nIn a widely spread Norse tale a very small goblin sustains a long and\nobstinate contest with an immense white bear.\n\nThe Norsemen invoked the Eagle Giant of the Winds, as Scott has shown\nin his song of the Reimkennar. The same being is invoked in this\nlegend.\n\nThe whelp, as an omen of evil, is mentioned in the Edda. In this tale\nhe causes forgetfulness. A potion of oblivion is also mentioned in the\nNorse poem in close connection with the omen of the dog.\n\nIf we accept the termination of this tale as given in the Micmac poem\nit amounts to this: A certain woman causes the whelp to lick the hero's\nhand. This causes forgetfulness. The hero marries her, and thereby\nloses his first wife. In the Edda, Brynhild, who has morally the first\nclaim to Sigurd, says of Crymhild, \"She presented to Sigurd the\npernicious drink, so that he no more remembers me.\" In the saga of\nThorstein, Viking's son the hero, is made by the witch Dis to utterly\nforget his bride Hunoor.\n\nThe Kalmuk tale of How the Schimm-Khan was Slain contains striking\nanalogies to this of the Three Strong Men. [Footnote: _Sagas from He\nFar East_, London, 1873.] In it the hero associates with three men,\nwho take turns to cook. Their food is devoured, as in this tale, every\nday by a little old witch who is very strong. He overcomes her by\ncraft. His companions, instead of drawing him up by the rope, as agreed\non, leave him to perish, in order to possess themselves of a treasure.\nThere can be no doubt as to the Hindoo origin of this and many more\nplots found among the red Indians. But a careful study of the Norse\nstory convinces me that the tale did not come to the Wabanaki through\nany other than a Norse source.\n\nSince writing out the foregoing poem, with the comment, I have received\nfrom Louis Mitchell the Penobscot version of it. It is about twice as\nlong as the Micmac story, and differs from it very materially. In it\nthe hero conquers the goblin by getting possession of his red cap. In\nthe Norse tales the same incident occurs in different forms. He then\nfights with a copper demon; also with one of silver and another of\ngold. Each devil, while he is sharpening his sword, exclaims, \"Hurry!\nhurry! I am hungry!\" The last of the three, the _Kche mitche-hant_,\nor great devil, has three heads, which replace themselves when cut off;\nbut the hero summons a lion (_pee'tahlo_) and an eagle, who devour\neach a head, when the demon, to save the last, surrenders. There are old\n\"aboriginal\" incidents in this Passamaquoddy tale, but the European\nelements predominate to such an extent as to call for the following\nremark from the Indian writer:--\n\n\"This story is ended. When Indians in it, as they do in many others,\nspeak of kings and queens or ships and ivory, I think they got it all\nfrom Europe. But perhaps when the Indians came here from Asia they\nbrought these stories with them. Thus they very often mention ivory,\ncalling it white bone. They also mention cities. But these things are\nnot new, for they were handed down from one generation to another.\"\n\nI have to add that, while the story agrees with an universally spread\nAryan fairy tale, it is very remarkable that it should add to these,\nseveral strictly Eddaic details, such as the white bear.\n\n\n\n\nTHE WEEWILLMEKQ'.\n\n_I. How a Woman Lost a Gun for Fear of the Weewillmekq'_.\n\n\nThere was a man and his wife who had got together all they had for the\nfall hunt. They went up the St. John's River; they left the village of\nFoxerbica; they went twenty-five miles beyond it. They passed the falls\non the upper side to get some game. They cooked and ate. They got ready\nto start again; they launched the canoe. [Footnote: This story and the\npreceding are taken _word for word_ from the Indian narration. The\nsingular precision of minute details is very characteristic of many of\nthese legends.] They shoved the canoe twenty-five feet from the shore.\nThe woman turned, and upset it. It went like lightning down the rapids.\nThey had hard work to get ashore, and lost their gun, traps, kettle,\nand everything. They escaped with great trouble; they had trouble to\nsave their canoe.\n\nThe man was in great grief at the loss of his gun. He sat down and\nsang:--\n\n  \"Nici sigi psach ke-yin,\n  Dich m'djel mieol wagh nuch'.\"\n\n  I am sorry,\n  I am in great trouble.\n\nThere came two Indians down to the portage where the man and his wife\nsat. They asked him why he was so sad. He told them all. One of them\nwas a _m'teoulin_. He asked of them, \"Could you tell your gun if\nyou saw it?\" The woman cried quickly, \"I could!\" He was not pleased at\nher forwardness, but put the question again; when she as pertly\nanswered, \"Yes,\" for her husband. He looked sternly at her, and said,\n\"Are you sure?\" To which she cried, \"Yes, yes!\" Then he said, \"If you\nare very bold, and not afraid of anything, you may get it again.\" And\nthis, too, she took on herself, saying, \"Oh, yes, _I'm_ not\nafraid; _I'll_ get it,\" making no account of her husband.\n\nThen, by the order of the man, she went to a ledge just below the\nfalls, where they are seventy-five feet high. There was a little\nprojecting rock on which she could just sit,--a horrible place. Below\nit was a dreadful eddy, in which nothing could live. He helped her down\nto it, and she was in mortal terror, as such glib-tongued women\ngenerally are when there is the least danger. Then the man went away.\n\nAnd as she sat there, trembling and half dead with fright, she saw\nSomething come up out of the eddy,--even out of the worst of it. It\nrose; it was an awful sight,--a kind of monstrous head, with great\nforked horns and terrible eyes. She was stiff as a stone with fear. The\nlost gun lay crosswise on the prongs of the horns. It moved slowly on\nthrough the eddy, glaring at her. It came nearer and nearer; the gun\nwas within her reach, but she was too frightened to touch it. Then the\nmonster passed by and sank into the water, and was seen no more, nor\nwas the gun.\n\nThey got her back with trouble from the place where she sat. The\n_m'teoulin_ was furious with rage at her, that he had taken such\npains for nothing. He said, \"This serves you right for your impudence\nand forwardness. Learn your proper place, and never undertake to do\nwhat is none of your business.\" He then condoled with the husband, but\nsaid, \"If you could give me all you could think of, I could never get\nyour gun again.\"\n\nBy this women may learn not to speak too quickly, or propose to do\nmen's duties, \"_Hu 'sami n'zama wiuch wee lel n'aga samee n'gamma\nwiool petin'l._\" (P. \"Too quick with the tongue, slow with the hands.\")\n[Footnote: Though the Weewillmekq' is a worm inhabiting the forest and\nfound in dry wood, it is certainly identified, or confused, by the\nPassamaquoddy Indians with the alligator, or some kind of a horrible\nwater-goblin, which appears to have many points in common with the\n_Chepitchcalm,_ or dragon of the Micmacs. This story was related to\nme by Tomah Josephs, now Indian governor at Princeton, Maine.\n\nAmong various notes I find the following:--\n\n\"The weewillmekq' becomes human at times, even now.\"\n\n\"Six years ago,\" said T. J., \"I was in the woods collecting boughs, and\nI saw a _weewillmekq'_ on a tree. The thunder kept approaching the\ntree on which it was, and finally struck it. It seemed to me as if the\nworm had attracted the lightning.\" (August 26, 1883.)\n\n\"The Weewillmekq' is a small worm, sometimes two or three inches long.\nIt is seen sometimes in the water as large as a horse. Then it has\nhorns. It is a very horrible-looking little worm.\"]\n\n\n\n\n_II. Muggahmaht'adem, the Dance of Old Age, or the Magic of the\nWeewillmekq'._ [Footnote: This mysterious being is called\n_Wee-wil-li-ah-mek_ in Penobscot The correct pronounciation is very\nnearly _Wee-wil-'l-mekqu'_ for both Penobscot and Passamaquoddy,\nbut this would be a difficult utterence for any one who has never\nlistened to the Algonquin soft gutturals.\n\nMrs. W. Wallace Brown informs me that \"the _Weewillmekqu'_ is a\nsnail.\" This would account for its being thought to inhabit both land\nand water.]\n\n(Passamaquoddy.)\n\n\nOf old times. There lived in a village many Indians. Among them was a\nhandsome young man, very brave, a great hunter. And there was a\nbeautiful girl. What was her name? Mahli-hahn-sqwess, or Kaliwahdazi,--\nI don't remember which. But she was proud and high-tempered, and, what\nwas worse, a great witch, but nobody knew it. She wanted the young man\nto marry her, but he was very busy getting ready for the fall and\nwinter hunt, and had no time to attend to such a thing; and told her so\nvery plainly.\n\nYes, he must have been very plain with her, for she was very angry, and\nsaid to him, \"You may go; but you will never return as you went.\" She\nmeant that, he would be ill or changed. He gave no heed to her words;\nhe did not care for her nor fear her. But far away in the woods, far in\nthe north, in midwinter, he went raging mad. The witch had struck him,\nwhen far away, with her magic.\n\nHe had with him an elder brother, a great brave, a very fierce man. He,\nnot being able to do aught else, did the most desperate thing a\nWabanaki Indian can do. He went down to the river, and sang the song\nwhich calls the _Weewillmekq'_.\n\n  \"We que moh wee will l'mick,\n  We que moh m'cha micso,\n  Som'awo wee will l'mick!\n  Cardup ke su m'so wo Sawo!\"\n\n  I call on the Wee-will-l'mick!\n  I call on the Terrible One!\n  On the One with the Horns!\n  I dare him to appear!\n\nIt came to him in all its terrors. Its eyes were like fire; its horns\nrose. It asked him what he wanted. He said that he wished his brother\nto be in his right mind again.\n\n\"I will give you what you want,\" said the Weewillmekq', \"if you are not\nafraid.\"\n\n\"I am not afraid of anything,\" said the Indian.\n\n\"Not of me?\"\n\n\"Not of you nor of Mitche-hant, the devil himself.\"\n\n\"If you dare take me by my horns and scrape somewhat from one of them\nwith your knife,\" said the monster, \"you may have your wish.\"\n\nNow this Indian was indeed as savage and brave as the devil; and he had\nneed to be so to do this, for the Weewillmekq' looked his very worst.\nBut the man drew his knife and scraped from the horn till he was told\nthat he had enough.\n\n\"Go to your camp,\" said the Worm. \"Put half the scrapings into a cup of\nwater. Make your brother drink it.\"\n\n\"And the other half?\" asked the Indian.\n\n\"Give it to the girl who made all this trouble. She needs medicine,\ntoo.\"\n\nHe returned to camp, and gave the drink to his brother, who recovered.\nWhen the hunt was at an end they went home.\n\nThey arrived at night. There was an immense lodge in the town, and a\ndance was going on. The younger brother had prepared a cool drink,--\nsweet with maple-sugar, fragrant with herbs,--and in it was the powder\nof the horn of the Weewillmekq'. The witch, warm and very thirsty from\ndancing, came to the door. He offered her the cup. Without heeding who\ngave it, she drank it dry, and, turning to her partner, went on in the\ndance.\n\nAnd then a strange thing happened. For at every turn of the dance she\ngrew a year older. She began as a young girl; when at the end of the\nroom she was fifty years of age; and when she got back to the door\nwhence she started she fell dead on the floor, at the feet of him who\ngave her the drink, a little, wrinkled, wizened-up old squaw of a\nhundred years.\n\n_Aha, yes? wood enit atokhahyen, muggoh mah't adem_. This is the\nstory of the Dance of Old Age. But you may call it _Sektegah_, the\nDance of Death, if you like it better. [Footnote: This extraordinary\nstory was related to me by Noel Joseph, at Campobello, August 26, 1883.\nI am indebted to Mrs. W. Wallace Brown for the incantation song. The\nWeewillmekq' has, as it appears in several tales, an extraordinary\nresemblance to the Norse dragon. It cures mental diseases. It seems to\nbe the same with the _Chepitchcalm_.]\n\n\n\n\n_III. Another Version of the Dance of Old Age._\n\n(Passamaquoddy.)\n\n\nIt was in the autumn, the time when Indians go up the rivers to their\nhunting-grounds, that two young men left home. They ascended the\nstream; they came to a branch, where they parted: one going alone,\nanother with his married brother. This latter, with the brother, had\nleft in the village a female friend, a witch, who had forbidden him to\ngo hunting, but he had not obeyed her.\n\nAnd she had cause to keep him at home, for, when he was afar in the\nwoods, and alone, he met one day with a very beautiful girl, who\nfascinated him, and gave herself to him. And when he said that he did\nnot know how to conceal her from his friends she told him that she was\na fairy, and could make herself as small as a newly born squirrel, and\nthat all he need do was to wrap her up in a handkerchief and carry her\nin his pocket. When alone, he could take her out, enjoy her company,\nand then reduce and fold her up and put her away again.\n\nHe did so, but from that hour, while he carried the fairy near his\nheart, he began to be wicked and strange. This was not caused by her,\nbut by the girl at home. He was entirely changed; he grew devilish; he\nrefused to eat, and never spoke. His sister-in-law began to fear him.\nWhen she offered him food he cried out, \"Unless I can devour one of\nyour children I will have nothing!\"\n\nWhen his brother returned and heard all this, he, too, offered him\nmeat, but met with a refusal and the reply, \"Give me one of your little\nchildren.\" To which he answered, \"The child is so small that it will\nnot satisfy you. Let me go and get a larger one.\" Then he ran to the\nvillage and informed his friends of what had come over the brother. And\nas they knew that he was about to become a _kewahqu'_\n(_chenoo_) they resolved to kill him.\n\nBut there was a young man there, a friend of the sufferer, who said\nthat he could save him. So all who were assembled bade him try.\n\nAnd when night came he went apart, and began to sing his\n_m'teoulin_, or magic song. When it ended there was a loud sound\nas of some heavy body falling and striking the earth, which fairly\nshook. The next morning he called all his friends and the married\nbrother, and showed them a human corpse. \"Now leave me,\" he said. \"Go\nto my friend and tell him that I have food for him.\" The Indians did\nso, and in horror left the two cannibals to devour their disgusting\nmeal. When the insane youth was satisfied, his friend asked, \"Have you\nhad enough?\" He replied that he had. [Footnote: The human body which\nsupplied the meal was probably in reality a deer, or some such animal.]\nThen the magician said, \"You are bewitched by the girl who forbade you\nto go hunting; she knew you would find a maid better than she is. Now\ncome with me.\"\n\nThey went to a small lake; they sat down by its side; the sorcerer\nbegan his magic song. And as he sang the waters opened; from the\ndisturbed waves rose a huge Weewillmekq', a creature like an alligator,\nwith horns. And, as the terrible being came ashore, the magician said,\n\"Go and scrape somewhat from his horn and bring it here!\" The young man\nhad become fearless; he went and did as he was bid: he scraped the\nhorn, and brought the scraping.\n\n\"Now, my friend,\" said the magician, \"let us try this on a tree.\" There\nwas a large green beech growing by them. It was simply touched with the\nfragment from the horn when another color spread all over the bark as\nrapidly as the eye could follow it: in an instant it was dead, and in a\nfew minutes more it fell to the ground, utterly rotten, as if it were a\ncentury old.\n\n\"Now,\" said the sorcerer, \"we will experiment with this on the witch\nwho wishes to destroy you.\" So as it was night they went to the\nvillage. A dance was being held, and the beautiful tall witch having\npaused to rest, the two men approached her. The young man placed his\nhand on her head; he held in it a scraping of the horn of the\n_weewillmekq'_. As he did so she grew older in an instant,--she\nbecame very old; a pale color rippled all over her; she fell, looking a\nhundred years, dead on the floor, shriveled, dried, and dropped to\npowder.\n\n\"She will not trouble you any more,\" said the sorcerer. \"Her dance is\nover.\"\n\nThis is the same story as the preceding; but I give it to show now\ndifferently a tale may be told by neighbors. In one it is the _spretae\ninjuria formae_, the wrath of rejected love, which inspires the witch\nto revenge; in the other it is jealousy. In one she inflicts madness; in\nthe other she turns him into a cannibal demon, as Loki, when only half\nbad, was made utterly so by getting the \"thought-stone\" or heart of a\nwitch. This legend was sent to me by Louis Mitchell. It is written not\nby him, but by some other Passamaquoddy, in Indian-English.\n\n\n\n\nTALES OF MAGIC.\n\n_M'teoulin, or Indian Magic_.\n\n\nThe study of magic as it is believed in or understood by the Indians of\nAmerica is extremely interesting, for it involves that of all\nsupernaturalism or of all religion whatever. But if we, declining all\nquestion as to the origin of monotheism, limit ourselves definitely to\nwhat is known of Shamanism alone, we shall still have before us an\nimmense field for investigation. Shamanism is the belief that\n_all_ the events and accidents of life are caused or influenced by\nspirits, and as fear of suffering is in all men, but particularly the\nsavage, the strongest moral emotion, the natural consequence is a\ngreater fear of _evil_ invisible beings. The result of it is a\nfaith that everything which is obscure or invisible is supposed to be\nthe work of mysterious agents, generally evil. Thus all disease\nwhatever, all suffering, pain, loss, or disaster, or bad weather, is at\nonce attributed either to a spirit or to some enemy who practices\nwitchcraft. The Shaman is the priest or doctor, who professes to be\nable, by his counter-charms, to counteract or neutralize this devil's\nwork.\n\nIt will be long ere the scholar definitely determines whether Shamanism\nas it now exists originated spontaneously in different countries where\nthe same causes were to be found, or whether it is _historical_;\nthat is, derived from a single source. I believe that while darkness,\nhunger, fear, and similar causes could not fail to create a rude\nreligion anywhere, as Moncure Conway has shown, yet that the derivation\nfrom one beginning, or at least later modifications from it, has been\nvery great indeed. Investigation indicates that it was in Assyria, at a\nvery remote age, that Shamanism had, if not its origin, at least its\nfullest development. The reader who will consult Lenormant's work on\nChaldean magic will learn from it that the fear of devils and the art\nof neutralizing their power were never carried to such an extent\nelsewhere as in the Land of Bel. Now as Shamanism has at the present\nday its stronghold among the Turanian races of Central Asia, it may\ngreatly strengthen the theory, somewhat doubted of late, of the early\nAccadian predecessors of the Chaldeans and their Turanian origin, if we\ncan only prove that their magical religion was the same as that of the\nTartars. So far as my reading has aided me, I am inclined to believe\nthat they are identical. \"Magic\" went so far among the former that,\nwhile they discovered natural remedies for natural ills, they never\ndoubted that one was as much the result of sorcery as the other. This\ntheory spread everywhere.\n\nShamanism, or a vague fear of invisible evils and the sorcerer, may\nindeed have sprung up independently in Tartary, Central Africa,\nFinland, and North America. But it is almost incredible that the use of\na drum inscribed with magical figures, the spirit flight of the angakok\nor Shaman, and twenty other characteristics of the art should have\nbecome, without transmission, common to all these countries. Shamanism\nhas probably been at the root of all religions; there was a great deal\nof it in all those of the Semitic races, and, admitting this, it is not\ndifficult to see how from Chaldea and Babylon it may have found its way\ninto Africa, where black savages, who would have rejected a higher\nreligion, would grasp greedily at what they sympathized with. The only\nreal difference between the Voodoo and Pow-wow practices is that the\nformer is, so to speak, the _blacker_ and more revolting. This is\nbecause a low state of culture has induced the believers in it to\nretain more of the coarse witchcraft on which Shamanism was based, or\nout of which it grew.\n\nFor wherever Shamanism exists, there is to be found, in company with\nit, an older sorcery, or witchcraft, which it professes to despise, and\nagainst which it does battle. As the Catholic priest, by Bible\nincantations or scriptural magic, exorcises devils and charms cattle or\nsore throats, disowning the darker magic of older days, so the Shaman\nacts against the real _wizard_. Rink tells us that among the\nheathen Eskimo the Shaman is sacred, and witchcraft a deadly crime, but\nthat the latter is the secret survival of a more ancient religion.\n_Voodoo_, whether practiced, as it is to-day, in Philadelphia, New\nYork, Havana, or Senegambia, deals with alleged devils, poisons,\nchicken bones, the ivory root, unnatural orgies,--all, in short, that\ncan startle and astonish ignorant natures; it is the combination of the\noldest faith with its successor. Far higher forms are those of the\nmagic of the black _Takowri_ whom one meets divining about the\nstreets of Cairo, or of the Arab proper, which brings us fairly to the\nCabala and the Jew, Cornelius Agrippa and Eliphas Levi.\n\nIt is not difficult to understand how Shamanism with its drums and\ndarkened rooms, its conjuring of evil-doers and extraction of diseases\nin tangible forms, should have spread from Central Asia to the\nLaplanders and Eskimo, and thence to the red Indians. Very little\nattention has been paid to the intercourse actually existing at the\npresent day between these races. I have met with a Passamaquoddy Indian\nwho spoke French well, who had been educated at a mission school, and\nwho had been among the Eskimo. As regards legends and folk-lore, no one\ncan read the Eskimo tales and those of this volume and not feel that\nthe Algonquin is to the man of the icy north what the gypsy is to the\nHindoo. As regards the early religion of both races, it is simply\n_identical_, and it is far too peculiar in its many similar\ndetails to have simply sprung up, as many might assume, from the common\nlikeness in customs of all savages. For there is in both a great deal\nof \"literary\" culture, especially in the Algonquin, and it would be\nlittle less than miraculous that this too should have assimilated by\nchance. It does not help the \"opposition\" to point out that Algonquin\nlegends, declare that their ancestors came from the west. Even so, they\ncame from the Pacific coast, where Eskimo Shamanism exists in its most\ndecided forms. But in any case it cannot be denied that in the red\nIndian mythology of New England, and of Canada and New Brunswick, we\nhave a collection of vigorous, icy, powerful legends, like those of a\nstrong northern race, while those of the middle continent, or Chippewa,\nare far feebler and gentler. Hiawatha-Manobozho is to Glooskap as a\nflute to a war trumpet.\n\nIt is absurd to laugh at or pity the Indian for believing in his magic.\nLiving as he does in the woods, becoming familiar with animals, and\nlearning how much more intelligent and allied to man they are than\ncivilized man supposes, he believes they have souls, and were perhaps\noriginally human. Balaam's ass spoke once for every Christian; every\nanimal spoke once for the Indian. If a child can be put to sleep by\nsinging to it, why cannot insensibility to pain or a cure be caused by\nthe same process? He is told that the wafer becomes the body of Christ;\nthis may confirm his belief that the Indian god Manobozho turned bits\nof his own flesh or his wife's into raccoons, for food. If it is\ndifficult for any educated or cultivated man to conceive how, if any\ncondition or phase of supernaturalism be admitted, any other can be\ndenied, how can the Indian be logically blamed for believing anything?\nBut the greatest cause of all for a faith in magic is one which the\nwhite man talks about without feeling, and which the Indian feels\nwithout talking about it. I mean the poetry of nature, with all its\nquaint and beautiful superstitions. To every Algonquin a rotten log by\nthe road, covered with moss, suggests the wild legend of the log-demon;\nthe Indian corn and sweet flag in the swamp are the descendants of\nbeautiful spirits who still live in them; Meeko, the squirrel, has the\npower of becoming a giant monster; flowers, beasts, trees, have all\nloved and talked and sung, and can even now do so, should the magician\nonly come to speak the spell. And there are such magicians. Why should\nhe doubt it? If the squirrel once yielded to such a power in man, it\nfollows that some man may still have the power, or that he himself may\nacquire it. And how much of this feeling of the real poetry of nature\ndoes the white man or woman possess, who pities the poor ignorant\nIndian? A few second-hand scraps of Byron and Tupper, Tennyson and\nLongfellow, the jingle of a few rhymes and a few similes, and a little\nsecond-hand supernaturalism, more \"accepted\" than felt, and that\nderived from far foreign sources, does not give the white man what the\nIndian _feels_. Joe, or Noel, or Sabattis may seem to the American\nPhilistine to be a ragged, miserable, ignorant Indian; but to the\n_scholar_ he is by far the Philistine's superior in that which\nlife is _best_ worth living for.\n\nThe magic of the Passamaquoddy and Penobscot, like the magician himself,\nis called _meteowlin_, _m'deoolin_ or _m'teoulin_. It is\nthe same effectively as _meda_, which is from the same root. It is\na power, but opinions differ as to how it is acquired. It is certain,\nas I was told by an old Passamaquoddy Indian, of Sebayk, near Campobello,\nthat some children are born _m'teoulin_. They manifest it, even\nwhile babes, by being capricious, eccentric, and malicious. Others\nacquire the art as they grow older. From all that I have heard I infer\nthat _m'teoulin_ takes two forms,--one of witchcraft, the other of\nmagic. The former is innate, or may be acquired; the latter, for aught\nI know, may be sometimes inborn, but is generally acquired by fasting,\nabstinence of other kinds, and ceremonies. The two are distinctly\ndifferent. Rink found in Greenland and Labrador that the Eskimo, as I\nhave said, made this difference.\n\nI will now give, word for word, the remarks of certain Indians on this\nsubject, beginning with those of an intelligent and prosperous old man,\nwho is certainly enlightened and Christianized very much beyond the\naverage, of his race. I had asked him if there were any\n_m'teoulin_, or magicians, living. He replied:--\n\n\"There are. Many at St. John and Sebayk are still _m'teoulin_. I\nsaw this myself thirty-five years ago at St. John's. There was a deaf\nIndian there. The white men were abusing him. They spat on him. By and\nby a _m'teoulin_ from St. John's came, a man of thirty-five or\nforty. I saw this. The _m'teoulin_ asked them not to abuse the\ndeaf and dumb Indian. They turned on the _m'teoulin_. Then he\nscreamed so horribly, so awfully, and looked so like a devil that the\nmen were frightened. They fell on their knees, and could not move. They\nlet the man go.\"\n\nThis is precisely what is narrated by many writers of the Shaman\nscreaming and distorting of the features. Very few people know of what\nthe human, voice is capable. It can not only be trained to divine song,\nbut to such demoniacal howling as to deafen and appall even the\nguardians of a lunatic asylum. In Lapland, Central Asia, or on Nootka\nSound the initiated are trained in remote solitudes to these\nutterances, to which no one can listen without terror. My informant\ncontinued:--\n\n\"Two or three weeks after I was in another place. We spoke of the\n_m'teoulin_. The white folks ridiculed them. I said there was one\nin Fredericton, and I said I would bet ten dollars that he would get\nthe better of them. And they bet that no Indian could do more than they\ncould. So the _m'teoulin_ came. And first of all he screamed so\nthat no one could move. It was dreadful. Then he took seven steps\nthrough the ground up to his ankles, _just as if it had been light\nsnow_. When I asked for the ten dollars, the white men paid. I gave\nit to the _m'teoulin_.\"\n\nAmong the Greenland Eskimo the sorcerer, writes Rink, \"after meeting\nwith _tomassuk_, or guardian spirits, sometimes manifests it by\nhis feet sinking into the rocky ground _just as if in snow_.\" He\nuses the very words of the Indian who described the same thing to me.\nAnd very recently in Philadelphia, in fact while I was writing the\npreceding remarks, a spiritualist named Gordon performed the very same\ntrick. Having been detected, a full account of the manner of action\nappeared in the Press of that city. It was done by a peculiar method of\nstooping, and of concealing the stoop behind a skirt. It was a very odd\ncoincidence that the explanation should thus present itself while I was\nseeking it.\n\nThis Shaman Eskimo trick was known to the Norsemen. In the Saga of\nThorstein it is said that Ogantun, a noted sorcerer, when stabbed at,\n\"thrust himself down into the ground, so that only the soles of his\nfeet could be seen;\" and of Kol it was said that \"he could pass through\nthe earth as well as walk upon it.\"\n\n\"Women are sometimes _m'teoulin_. There is one at Psesuk (Bar\nHarbor) now, this summer. You have met her. She is ---'s wife.\n[Footnote: I am acquainted with all the parties, but for obvious\nreasons suppress their names.] If you offend her she can hurt you in\nstrange ways.\n\n\"She is a good doctor. Once she cured a man. When he got well he could\nnot pay her for the medicine. His name is Louis ---. She asked for her\nmoney; she asked many times; she could not get it. He was going to the\nwoods, far away, to trap; he said he would pay her when he returned,\nbut she wanted it then. She said, 'I will never forget this; I will be\nrevenged.' He went far up the St. John River with his traps; he set\nthem in the stream for beaver. All that he caught that winter was\nsticks, and sometimes an eel. Then at the end of the day he would say\nto his man, 'It is of no use.' And then they could hear the witch\nlaughing behind the bushes, and tittering when he came home. So it went\non long. Then he was sorry, and said, 'I wish I had paid that woman\nwhat I owed her.' And at once they heard a voice from the bushes, or\nrocks, say, 'Louis, that will do. It is enough.' And the next day they\ncaught two beaver, and every day two, and so on, till the season was\nover.\n\n\"This happened in 1872, in Miramichi Waters.\"\n\nThere does not appear to be any single approved method of acquiring\n_m'teoulin_. Some, as I have said, are born to it, but they appear\nto be wizards or witches. Others are formally trained from boyhood by\nthe experienced magicians. Others acquire certain gifts by certain\nceremonies or penances. Of this kind was the power obtained in the\nmanner narrated in the following story, which I heard from an old\nPassamaquoddy:--\n\n\"There was once a young man who wished to become a very wise and brave\nwarrior, like his father. And his father said to him, 'I get all my\nluck of every kind from my dreams. You can have such dreams; any man\ncan, if he will do a certain thing; but that thing is not easy for a\nyoung man like you. You must sleep seven nights with a virgin, and\nnever touch her.'\n\n\"The young man thought this over for a few days, and then asked his\nfather how it could be arranged or managed.\n\n\"'I will tell you,' replied the old man. 'Find a girl; the more\nbeautiful she is and the more you want her, the stronger the magic will\nbe. Go to the parents for their daughter as a wife. Cheat them so.\nBefore you marry get seven bear-skins, and let no man except one know\nanything about it. Make him clean them. One skin should be cleaned\nevery twenty-four hours. Seven days must pass so.'\n\n\"The young man was accepted by the parents; he sent the seven bear-skins\nto the young woman; they were married; they went to their wigwam. He lay\non the bear-skins; he directed his wife to make another bed and sleep on\nit. They lay apart. The bride thought this was strange; she told her\nmother of it. The mother said, 'Never mind. By and by it will be all\nright.' The wife thought it was all wrong. When seven nights had passed\nthe bridegroom disappeared. He was not seen in his village for twenty-five\nor thirty years. Then he returned to his father. He could divine all\nthings by dreams. He had but to take the magic bear-skin and sleep on\nit, and dream. He could tell where to find good hunting or fishing. He\n_foredreamed_ war with the Mohawks. Can any man do this? They say\nso, and I have known many who tried it in vain. They could not pass the\ntrial successfully.\"\n\n\"There are stones in the forest with names on them. They give great\npower to dream. I have seen in my dreams the _m'teoulin_ of\nancient times,--the magicians, my father told me, of long ago. I have\nseen them diving under the waters from one island to another. I have\nseen them dive ten miles.\n\n\"When I was, young, J. N., who was a great _m'teoulin_, offered to\nteach me the art. I could have become one, but I would not. I did not\nthink it was right.\n\n\"Once old J. N. and my grandfather hunted in the woods. It was near\nKatahdin, the Great Mountain. [Footnote: Katahdin, like the Intervale\nnear North Conway, is haunted and enchanted ground, abounding in\nfairies and other marvelous beings. But there is not a mile square of\nNew England which has not its legends.] And they wanted everything.\nThey had got out of everything. One night old N. said, 'I can bear this\nno longer. Would you like a nice pipe of tobacco? We have had nothing\nbut meat for four weeks.' So he went away for a short time; perhaps it\nwas an hour. He returned with a box. There was in it three pounds of\ntobacco; there was cheese, rice, and sugar; there was fifty pounds of\nprovision in all.\"\n\nThis famous _m'teoulin_ was long a popular governor of the\nPassamaquoddies. I have a curious old brass candlestick, said to be one\nhundred and fifty years old, which he owned all his life. The following\nremarkable reminiscences of this very clever old sagamore were given to\nme by Marie Sakis, a Penobscot:\n\n\"The old governor was a great _m'teoulin_. He had got it among the\nChippewas. He said that it would come to pass that he would die before\nthe next snow-storm. No, he did not care himself, but my husband's\nmother did, when she heard this, and she cried. Then he said, 'Well, I\nwill try to live, or else die in a month; but it will be a hard fight.'\nSo he made him a bow, and strung it with his wife's hair; [Footnote: In\na Chippewa legend a boy confers magic power on a bow by stringing it\nwith his sister's hair.] and having done this, he shot an arrow through\nthe smoke-hole of his wigwam. [Footnote: This is also mentioned in a\nlegend where it is said that every arrow killed a supernatural enemy.]\n\nAll this was at Nessaik, near Eastport. Then he said to his wife, 'Take\none of your leggins and put it on my head.' She did so. Then he took\nmedicine. A rainbow appeared in the sky, and a great horse-fly came out\nof his mouth, and then a large grasshopper. He cried to his wife, 'Do\nnot kill it!' And then came a stone spear-head. [Footnote: This is all\nin detail perfectly Shamanic. The smell of the fresh fish after such a\nfight is the same in an Eskimo legend. The horse-fly (_gan_) is\nLapp.]\n\n'Now,' said the governor, 'this is all right so far, but the great\nstruggle is yet to come. It is a _wee-wilmekq'_ who has done\nthis.' (You know what that is: the Passamaquoddies call it\n_weewilmekq'_. It is a worm an inch long, which can make itself\ninto a horrid monster as large as a deer; yes, and much larger. It is\n_m'teoulin_; yes, it is a great magician.) 'I am going to fight\nit. You must come with a small stick to hit it once, and only a mere\ntap.' [Footnote: In the legend of Partridge, a mere tap stuns the\nwater-fairy.] But she would not go. So he went and fought with the\nWeewillmekq'. He killed it. It was a frightful battle. When he returned\nhe smelt like fresh fish. His wife bade him go and wash himself; but\nlet him bathe as much as he could, the smell remained for days. The\npond where he fought has been muddy, and foul ever since.\n\nThe governor could with a gimlet bore a hole in any tree in the woods,\nand draw from it as he pleased; any kind of wine or other liquor. Once\nhe was far in the forest with some white gentlemen; he wished to\nentertain them. He did this, to their astonishment. He produced tobacco\nin a miraculous manner when it was wanted. Then, returning to Eastport,\nhe went to Mr. Pearce, who kept a store, and showed him that a certain\namount of wine had disappeared from his barrels, and paid him for it.\nHe never drank wine or spirits himself.\n\nHe once went hunting. He took his wife with him; she was\n_enceinte_. It was in midwinter. She had a great yearning for\ngreen corn. He put a dish on the ground, and there fell from above ears\nof fresh-boiled green corn into it. 'There,' said he, 'as I promised,\nyou have it.'\n\nShe had a silver cross and beads. One day she lost it, and grieved\nvery much. He said, 'Put that wooden dish upside down, near the fire.'\nIt was done, and when she turned it up the cross was under the dish.\nAnd he said the Ketawks, or Spirits, had brought it.\"\n\nThe following legend, told me by Tomah Josephs, sets forth another\nmanner by which _m'teoulin_ may be acquired.\n\n\"There were two Indian families camped away at some distance from the\nmain village. In one lived a young man, and every night he would go to\nthe other wigwams to see some girls. His mother warned him that he\nwould come to harm, for there was danger abroad, but he never minded\nher.\n\nNow, one night at the end of winter, when the ground was bare of snow,\nas he was walking along he heard something come after. It had a very\nheavy, steady tramp. He stopped, and saw a long figure, white, but\nwithout arms or legs. It looked like a corpse rolled up. He was\nhorribly frightened, but when it attacked him he grew angry. The\nobject, though it had no arms, fought madly. It twined round him; it\nstruck itself against him, and thrashed itself, bending like a fish all\nabout. And he, too, fought as if he was crazy. He was one of those\nwhose blood and courage go up, but never down; he could die, but never\ngive in till dead. Before daylight the Ghost suggested a rest, or\npeace; the Indian would not hear of it, but fought on. The Ghost began\nto implore mercy, but the youth just then saw in the north _Kival lo\nkesso_, the break of day. Then he knew that if he could but endure\nthe battle a little longer he should indeed get a great victory.\n\nThen the Ghost implored him, saying, 'Let me go, and whatever you may want\nyou shall get, and good luck all your life.' Yet for all this he would not\nyield, for he knew that by conquering he would win all the Spirit had to\ngive. And as the first sun-ray shone on him he became insensible, and when\nhe awoke it was as from a sleep. But by his side lay a large, old, decayed\nlog, covered with moss. He remembered that during the fight he had seemed\nonce to plunge his fist, by a violent blow, completely into the enemy up\nto his elbow, and there was a hole in it corresponding to this wound. He\nhad torn away the other's scalp-lock, stripping the skin down to the\nwaist; he found a long, hairy-looking piece of moss ripped from the end\nof the log to the middle. And all about lay pieces of moss and locks of\nhis own hair, testifying to the fury of the fight.\n\nHe was terribly bruised and torn, but that he did not heed, for now he\nwas another man, and a terrible one. His mother said, 'I warned you of\ndanger:' but he had conquered the danger. He had all the strength of\nfive strong men, and all the might and magic of the Spirit; yes, the\nSpirit itself was now in him. After this he could do anything, and find\ngame where no one else could. To conquer a ghost gives power.\"\n\nTo conquer the dead, or to fight terrible spirits, to thereby absorb\ntheir power, and finally to keep them in a struggle until the day\nshines on them, is both Norse and Celtic, if not, indeed, world-wide.\nBut the grim spirit of this narrative is Norse; it is that of the hero\nwresting from a corpse's hold the sword of victory.\n\n  \"Farewell, daughter!\n  Fleet give I thee,\n  Five men's bane,\n  If thou it believe.\"\n\nBut the great element or chief cause of magic power among, the Indians\nis that of Will. It manifests itself in many forms, mere courage being\none. Thus the _Weewillmekq'_ confers supernatural ability or other\nfavors only on those who are not afraid of it. The demon Log, as we\nhave just seen, gives strength and prosperity to a man for simply\nfighting like a bull-dog. Beyond courage, pluck or bottom is with these\nIndians as nearly allied to magic as poetry was among the Greeks, or\nwith an Eschenwaya. When the true magician \"gets mad,\" and continues to\nget madder till the end, he is invincible. Allied to this is\nperseverance. The Rabbit is rewarded with skill as an enchanter merely\nfor continuing to try. His very failures have this in them, that he\nkeeps on resolutely, though in a wrong road. No one can fail to be\nstruck, in these legends of the Northeast Algonquins, how often a boy,\nor adult, when asked if he can do a difficult thing, replies, \"I can\ntry.\" All of this apotheosis of pluck, perseverance, and patience is\n_far_ more developed among these legends than in those of the\nChippewas or other western and southern tribes, at least so far as I am\nfamiliar with them. It exists wherever there are red Indians, but the\nEastern Algonquin seems to have thought it out more and made more of it\nthan others have done. Therefore his cycle of myths, or his Edda,\noccupies a higher place. It is less chaotic; it is more consistent; it\nis a chorus in which every voice is trained to respond to or correspond\nwith the leader. In this respect it has a remarkable resemblance to the\nScandinavian myths and poems. In its theory that magic power may be\nobtained by \"penitence,\"--I do not mean here \"repentance,\"--that is by\nself-inflicted pain, it agrees with the Hindoo, and in fact more or\nless with all religions. But it is only, I believe, in the red Indian\nand Hindoo creeds that it is distinctly admitted that man can attain\nthe power to do both good and evil, or whatever he pleases, if he will\nonly pay for it by suffering. The doctrine of power through penance is\nso simple and obvious in its origin that it would long precede\nmonotheism. A man exercises himself with great exertion in lifting\nstones, as in an Eskimo tale, till he is strong; he practices shooting\narrows and running after them, as in the story of the Chief's Son, till\nhe can outrun them. Then the secret of such marvelous deeds is supposed\nto exist in the bow, and it becomes a fetich.\n\nA very important part of _m'teoulin_ is the materials employed. In\nOld World magic these are exclusively objects which startle or disgust,\nparts of the human body, dead reptiles, or things singular and rare.\nAmong the Indians, very commonplace articles are employed indifferently\nwith those of the former kind. The magic consists not in them, but in\nthe magician and his methods. He has had, let us say, his dreams, or\nreceived, while alone in the forest, his inspirations, which have told\nhim what to do. He takes the objects suggested, and with them performs\nhis wonder works. Sometimes he tells others to do the same with the\nsame things, but in this case he is still the motive force; it is\n_his_ enchantment. In illustration of this I give the following\nlegend:--\n\nFar in the woods was an Indian town; near it lived two old people, who\nhad two beautiful daughters, and no son. The girls were very shy. They\nseldom let themselves be seen. They would not listen to the young men.\n\nThe chief of the tribe had a fine son, a great hunter, and skilled in\nmysteries. [Footnote: In Passamaquoddy, _N'paowlin_: a man learned\nin mysteries, a scholar. This is my own Indian name. It is apparently\nthe same with: _boo-oin_; that is, pow-wow man.] The young man\nwanted one of the girls. His father went to their parents and obtained\ntheir consent, but the girls refused to be married.\n\nThere lived in the village a young man who was neither strong,\nhandsome, nor clever at any kind of work. Hearing that the chief's son\nhad failed to get one of the shy or proud girls, he said--but all in\njest, for he had but a poor opinion of himself--that he was the right\nkind of a man to get them. \"If they had, for example, only seen\n_me_, now,\" he exclaimed, \"they would have wished to be married at\nonce!\" Then they all laughed, and proposed that they should go that\nnight and try to see the girls, and how they would receive the plain\nlooking youth.\n\nSo they went quietly, about supper-time, and entered so suddenly that\nthe girls had not time to hide behind the curtain, and so were obliged\nto receive the visitors. After supper they engaged in playing\n_Mingwadokadjik_. In this game a ring is hidden in the ashes or\nsand, and each player, with a pointed stick, makes a plunge until the\nring is hit, and brought out. (This is Indian _poker_.--T. B.)\n\nSo the evening passed, and nothing was said of marriage; and at last\nthe guests went away, and for some time the young man made a jest of\nhis having gone courting. One day he was far and alone in the woods,\nwhen he met an old woman of very strange appearance. She was wrinkled\nand bent with extreme age, and her head was braided up with a very\ngreat number of _sakalobeek_, or hair-strings, which hung down to\nher heels. After greeting him civilly, she asked him if he was really\nanxious to marry one of the beauties whom he had visited. \"O\n_Nugumee_\" (grandmother), he replied, \"I do not care about it.\"\n\"Only if you did,\" she replied, \"I can give you the one you want, if\nyou will only say so.\"\n\nNow the young man saw that the old woman was in earnest, and he replied\nthat in fact he would be very glad to get one of the girls, but that no\ngirl worth having would look at him. Then the old dame, taking one of\nher hair-strings, said, \"Roll this up, and carry it in your pouch for a\nwhile; [Footnote: One of the infallible ancient methods to make\nanything into a fetich, or amulet, is to carry it a long time about the\nperson. Familiarity, as Heine observes (_Reisebilder_), gives a\nsilent life, or apparent sympathy, to even old clothes. Thus domestic\nwell-known objects become fairies, and thus they talk to children.] and\nthen go, and, catching an opportunity, toss the cord upon her back. But\ntake care that she does not know that you have done this, and let it be\nindeed a secret to all.\"\n\nSo he took the _sakalobe_, and, visiting the girls once again,\nthrew it on one of them, more hopeful of success this time. And the\ncast succeeded, though she said nothing then. But the next day, alone\nin the woods, he met her, for she had followed him. And she said,\n\"_Tamealeen_?\" \"Where are you going?\" \"I am going hunting,\" he\nreplied. \"But, if you have not lost your way, what are you doing here?\"\n\"I am not lost in the woods,\" she replied, but said no more. Then he,\nseeing how it was, said, \"It would be better, though, if I returned\nwith you to your parents, and told them that I found you lost, and\nshowed you the way home.\" And having done this, the girl's father,\nnoting that she liked the young man, asked him if he wished to marry\nher; and as both were willing, and something more, the wedding feast\nwas soon ready, the friends invited, and the couple settled down.\n\nSome days after, the husband, seeing his wife wearing the magic\nhair-string, asked her, \"Where did you get that pretty _sakalobe_?\"\n\"I found it,\" she replied, \"in my _'ntuboonk_\" (usual sitting place\nin the wigwam). This caused the young man to reflect how kindly he had\nbeen treated by the old fairy or witch, and how easily he, without any\nmerit, had won his wife, and then to think of the deserving young\nchiefs son who had failed. So, taking him into the woods, they found\nthe old woman, who, kind as ever, did for the chief's son what she had\nalready done for his friend, and gave him also a magic hair-string. And\nusing it in the same way he in like manner won the other sister; and it\nwas indeed well, for she was the one whom he wanted most. And the two\nmen whose wives were sisters (_wechoosjik_), were on the best of\nterms and much together.\n\nNow the young chief reflected that his brother-in-law had been very\nkind to him, for little cause, and thought how he could repay him. So\nhe asked him one day if he would like to be a swift runner. \"Truly I\nwould,\" replied the other. \"Then go and gather some feathers, and let\nthem blow when the wind is high, and chase them. You will soon be able\nto outstrip the wind, and when the art comes it will never depart from\nyou.\" Then he did this, and became so swift that no man or beast could\nescape him.\n\nYet again the chiefs son said, \"Would you like to become strong and\nvery active?\" And as he of course said \"Yes,\" the friend replied,\n\"Dress yourself in the worst and raggedest garments, and attack the\nfirst man you find. He will catch you by the clothes; but do you slip\nout of them and run.\" This he did; the first man whom he met was a\nlunatic, who gladly grappled for a fight. So he slipped out of the\nclothes and ran; but the madman thought the apparel made the man, and\nbeat it a long time, and left it for dead. But after he had done this\nwith many men he indeed became strong and active.\n\nThen the chief's son said, \"I will teach you quickness of sight, so\nthat you may perceive animals while hunting, though other men may not.\nTake a handful of moose's hairs; hold them firmly in a roll between\nyour thumb and finger; hold them up in a high wind and let them go. So\nyou will be able to perceive, in time, all the moose. And to see deer,\nor any other animal, you must take their hair and treat it in the same\nway.\" So he did; and by means of this magic became so keen of sight\nthat he beheld every beast.\n\nYet again the chief's son said, \"Would you see birds where no other men\ncan?\" And he, assenting, was told to strip the feathery part from a\nbird's quills (_chekakadega_), and, blowing it into the air, look\ncarefully in the direction in which it flew. And having practiced this\nalso, he became very perfect in the art. [Footnote: The secret of these\nspells is very apparent. But the teacher would make the pupil believe\nthat the successful result would greatly depend on the color and kind\nof the fur or feathers employed. It is curious to observe how, in the\nover-refinement of \"sport\" among gentlemen, the idea that this or that\nis \"good form\" and \"the correct thing,\" which _must_ be done, has\nhad the effect of establishing much which is mere fetich. A fox in\nEngland and a bear in Canada must be killed in a certain way by men of\ncaste.]\n\nNow, having learned all these things, he asked the chief's son how he\ncould learn to see the fishes of the sea. And being told that he must\ncollect all kinds of fishes' bones, and burn them and pound them to\ndust, he did so; and, having blown them up into the wind, he could see\nall manner of fish and call them to him.\n\nThis young man went afar in his thoughts; for reflecting that the\nwhales were giant-like in power, he wondered what might be done by\nmagic with them. And his friend said that it was true that the whales\ncould give to man unearthly power and exceeding long life. \"For,\" said\nhe, \"they never die till they are killed, and by their aid one may live\non till life borders on immortality.\" So burning a piece of whale-bone\n(_pootup-awigun_), he pounded it to powder, and, standing on a\nrock that jutted out into the sea, the sorcerer blew the dust seawards.\nAnd erelong he saw dark spots far away, and as they grew to be more\nnumerous they became larger, and yet more numerous anon, and for every\ngrain of dust which he blew there came a whale; and yet he blew again\nseven times. Then the whole school of immense creatures came towards\nhim; and he that was largest, or the sagamore of the whales, swimming\nclose to the man on the rock, said, \"Why hast thou called me?\" And he\nreplied, \"Make me strong.\"\n\nAnd the Whale answered, \"It is well. Put thy hand in my mouth!\" And,\ndoing this, he found and took out a golden key. [Footnote: This is a\nmanifestly modern addition. There is every indication that the story\nitself is ancient, probably Eskimo.] \"Keep that,\" said the Whale.\n\"While you have it you will be safe against man, beast, or illness. The\nfoe shall not harm you; the spirits which haunt the wilderness shall\npass you by; hunger and pain shall not know you; death shall not be in\nyour road.\"\n\nSo the young man thanked the great magician, and went home; and as it\nhad been promised it came to pass. All was ever well with him; trouble\nand trial were with him no more. Those who were, in his village never\nknew hunger; the wild game abounded, and came to them when called; no\nenemy attacked them; the sun and moon smiled on them; they sang the\nsongs of the olden time, and played the flute in peace.\n\nIn time the old chief drew near the end of his life, and his son asked\nthe friend if his father's days could not be prolonged. But the\nmagician thought it best to let him pass in peace; and he did so. Then\nthe young chief offered his place and power to his brother-in-law\n(_wechoosul_); but he refused it, and passed his, life in aiding\nhis friend in every way by his power and wisdom. _Kespeahdvoksit_\n(here the story ends).\n\nThis legend is little more than an enumeration of the recipes popularly\nemployed to obtain certain powers. It may be observed that it is\nlimited to all that a real Indian requires. It is very different from\nwhat a white man or an Asiatic savage would have wanted; and there is\njust enough truth and common sense in the methods recommended to make\nthe whole plausible. The reader will observe that the magic hair-string\nand locks of hair play the same important part in _m'teoulin_ that\nthey did in Old World magic. This is hardly one of the coincidences\nwhich can be attributed to spontaneous development from similar causes.\nIt may be such, but there may be also an Eskimo sidegate through which\nit entered from the other side.\n\nAnother magic means was the influencing high and mysterious powers. Of\nthis the following is an admirable illustration:--\n\n\n\n\n_Tumilkoontaoo, or the Broken Wing._\n\n(Micmac.)\n\n\nAn Indian family lived on the sea-shore. They had two sons; the eldest\nof these was married, and had many small children. They lived by\nfishing; they chiefly caught eels.\n\nIt came to pass that the weather was so stormy that they could not\nfish. The wind blew terribly night and day; the waves were like dancing\nhills. Hunger made them fierce. One day the father told his boys to\nwalk along the shore and see if no fish had been cast on the beach.\n\nA young man went; he went far along; and as he went the wind was ever\nworse; it blew so fiercely that he could hardly stand. It seemed to\ncome from a point of land. He resolved to pass it, and when there he\nsaw the cause of the tempest. Upon a _kwesopskeak'_--a high and\nrocky ledge, a bold cliff, but surrounded by the water--sat the\nWind-Bird, or storm-sagamore himself, flapping his wings, and thereby\nraising all the wind.\n\nThen the young man, who was brave and wise, resolved to outwit the\nwind-god. And approaching him and addressing him as _Nikskamich_,\n\"My grandfather,\" he inquired, \"are you cold!\" And he answered, \"Nay;\"\nbut the young man insisted that he must be suffering, and offered to\ncarry him on his back to the main-land. [Footnote: It would appear that\nwhile the bird flapped his wings he did not fly. I believe this was the\nsame with the Norse Hrosvelgar.] And the offer being accepted, he\ncarried the mighty bird from one weedy, slippery rock to another, up\nand down, jumping anon, and wading through the pools. But at the last\nrock he, with full intention, stumbled and fell as if by accident, yet\nmanaged it so well as to break one of the wings of the eagle, as he\nindeed meant to do. Yet he made great show of being very sorry, and,\nhaving set the wing, bade the bird keep quiet, and not move his wings\nfor many days; not till the wound was healed should he stir them. \"Sit\nstill, _Nikskamich_,\" he said, \"and I will bring you food; I will\nbe attentive; you shall want nothing.\" And the god sat still: there was\na calm on the water; no leaves moved in the forest; there was no wind\nin all the world.\n\nThe young man went home; there was not a breeze, the canoe went\nsmoothly over the sea, the eels could be seen in the depths, the\nIndians caught fish by thousands; never before had they caught so many.\nAnd the sagamore of the birds sat still; the Wind-Bird waited to get\nwell; the young man fed him every day.\n\nThere can be too much of what is good; good turns to evil, sweet to\nsour. After many days of quiet calm the sea was covered with\n_Ogokpegeak_, a scum which is caused by sickness among the fish,\nand which is thrown off by them, for they suffer in still water. Then\nthe fisherman can no longer look down into the sea; then he cannot use\nthe spear.\n\nThen the young man, examining the wing of the storm-bird, said,\n\"Grandfather, it is much better; move it but a little now, that I may\nsee!\" So he moved it; he gave a flap, and lo! a slight ripple passed\nover the surface of the sleeping sea. And striking lightly with his\nwings, again there came a breeze, and the _Ogokpegeak_, or the\nscum, was blown away, and the Indians fished again, and all was well.\n\nSo they had the Wind-Bird for a friend, and the sea was smooth or\nstormy as they willed. But these Indians wished for more than they\ncould manage. They grew tired of catching small fish; they wanted\nwhales. \"Let us go and catch the Bootup!\" said the elder brother. \"How\nwill you take him?\" asked the younger. \"I will entice him with the\n_peepoogwokan_,\" said the elder, \"with my pipe.\" So he sat by the\nsea; he played on the pipe; he played, but no whale came. So they went\nback to their small fishery.\n\nThis is manifestly the beginning and end of a very ancient Indian mythical\ntale. The Micmacs have tacked on to it a ridiculous fragment of an\nindifferent French nursery tale, without an end and without any connection\nwith the Indian beginning. The tradition is probably entirely Eskimo.\nAmong the Greenlanders there is a caste of whale-fishers, separate and\napart, and this story, in its second stage, was applied to teach, _Ne\nsutor ultra crepidam_,--that all should stick to their trades, and that\nthough a sorcerer might rule the winds it did not follow that he could win\nthe whales.\n\nI have spoken before of the curious identity of the Indian storm-king,\nor Wind-Bird, with that of the Norse Hrosvelgar. When among the\nChippewas, west of Lake Superior, I met with a white man who had\nreceived the name of Thunder-Bird from the Indians still further west.\n\nThe magicians of all countries, be they of Africa, Asia, or North\nAmerica, are invariably represented by travelers as holding their flock\nin subjection, and never being doubted as to power or skill. But there\nare skeptics or Agnostics among the men of the woods as well as among\nthose of civilized cities. There are shrewd fellows who cannot only\ndetect impostors, but turn their tricks to their own advantage. An\namusing illustration of this is given in the following story:\n\n\n\n\n_Fish-Hawk and Scapegrace_. [Footnote: Wiskumagwasoo and Mahgwis.\nThe Mahgwis, or \"Scapegrace,\" is a kind of sea-gull.]\n\n(Micmac.)\n\n\nTwo men met and talked: one was Fish-Hawk, the other was Scapegrace.\nNow the Fish-Hawk can fly higher than any other ocean bird, and he is\nproud and particular as to his food; he is only beaten by the eagle.\nWhen he dives and takes a fish the eagle pursues him; he lets it drop;\nthe great sagamore of the birds catches it; but to less than the chief\nhe yields nothing. But the Scapegrace will eat anything he is heavy in\nflying; he is slow and of low degree.\n\nSo when the Scapegrace proposed to the Fish-Hawk that they should\nbecome partners the proud bird was angry in his heart, but said\nnothing, as he was crafty, and as it occurred to him that he could\npunish the other; and this he was the more willing to do because the\nScapegrace actually proposed to fly a race with him! So he said, \"Let\nus go together to a certain Indian village.\" And they went off\ntogether.\n\nThe Fish-Hawk arrived there far before the other. And on arriving he\nsaid, \"Beware of him who will come after me. You will know him by these\nsigns: he is ugly and heavy; he will bring with him his own food. It is\ncoarse and common; in fact it is poison. He wishes to kill you; he will\noffer it. Do not eat of it, or you will die.\"\n\nThen having been very well entertained himself, he took his departure.\nScapegrace soon appeared, but was treated with great reserve. He\noffered his food, and the people pretended to eat it, but took good\ncare to quietly throw it away. Then he told the chief that he was\nseeking a wife, and asked if there were girls to marry in the town. To\nwhich the chief replied, \"Yes, there is a mother with several\ndaughters, of the _Amalchoogwech'_ or Raccoon tribe.\"\n\nHe went to see the girls. A bad name had gone before him. One of them\nstood before the lodge. She saw him, and cried, \"_Mahgwis\nwechooveet_!\" \"Scapegrace is coming!\" They received him as if he had\nbeen Sickness. He was welcomed like filth on fine clothes. They cried\nout, \"_Ulummeye_!\" \"Go home!\" He asked the mother if she had\ndaughters. She answered, \"Yes.\" He asked her if she would give him one.\nShe replied, \"I will not.\" So he went his way.\n\nNow when he had gone Fish-Hawk came again, and asked if Scapegrace had\nbeen there. He inquired if all had passed as he predicted. They said it\nhad. Then it occurred to him to pass himself off for a great prophet, a\nwise magician, well knowing that he could make much of it. So he said,\n\"It is well. Remember that you would have all died but for my\nforesight. That wizard would have poisoned you all. But have no fear.\nIn future I will watch over you.\"\n\nThen, he said to a man of the people that if at any time he should see\na large bird flying over the village it would be an omen of great\ncoming danger. \"Then,\" he said, \"think of me; call on me, and I will\ncome.\" So he departed.\n\nThe man thought it all over for a long time. He was shrewd and wise.\n\"He foretold the coming of Scapegrace,\" he reflected. \"Now he pretends\nto be a very great sorcerer. We shall see!\"\n\nSure enough, in a few days he saw a bird flying on high. \"That,\" said\nhe, \"must be the _Wis-kuma-gwasoo_.\" He called him, and he came.\n\"You spoke,\" he said, \"of danger to our town. What is it?\"\n\n\"There is great danger. In a few days your town will be attacked by a\nKookwes. [Footnote: In Passamaquoddy _Kewahqu'_, a cannibal giant,\nwho is also a sorcerer.] Unless you save yourselves you will all be\ndevoured.\"\n\n\"What shall we do to be saved?\" asked the man. \"When will he come?\"\n\n\"In seven days,\" replied the Fish-Hawk. \"Before that time you must take\nto your canoes and flee afar. You may get beyond his reach, but you\ncannot before that time get beyond the horrible roar of his voice. And\nall who hear it will drop dead.\"\n\n\"How can we escape this second danger?\" asked the man.\n\n\"You must all close your ears, so that you can hear nothing. When the\ntime is over you may return.\"\n\nThe man's name was Oscoon. [Footnote: Oscoon (M.): the Liver.] He led\nthe people away. He closed their ears; he did not close his own. Once\nhe heard-a far-away whoop. It was not very terrible. But he said\nnothing. After a time, the scouts who were sent out returned. They\nreported that the Kookwes had departed. They had not even seen him. It\nwas a great escape.\n\nThe people thought much of Oscoon. They made him their chief. In a few\ndays the Fish-Hawk returned. He spoke to Oscoon: \"Did the giant come?\"\n\"He did.\" \"You escaped?\" \"By following your advice, we did.\" \"And in\nwhich direction did he go?\" [Footnote: Here the Fish-Hawk inadvertently\nbetrays himself. In the Edda, Loki changes himself into a falcon and\nflies to Jotunheim to make mischief, as usual. Odin also changes\nhimself to a hawk or eagle when he is chased by the giant Suttung.\nThere is a strong Norse color to all this tale. The Fish-Hawk is very\nLoki-like and tricky.] \"Surely you, who know so much about him, must\nknow that better than we do.\" Then the Fish-Hawk saw that he was found\nout. He flew away, and never returned to the town to play the prophet.\n\nHe who would cheat must watch his words well.\n\nAs in the preceding tradition, there has been tacked to this a fragment\nof a very poor French tale about a king, a great city, a royal\ncarriage, and the forest of wild beasts, borrowed from so many old\nEuropean romances. But what is here given is apparently really Indian,\nand it shows with spirit and humor how men tricked one another and rose\nin life by trickery, in the days of old.\n\nThere are naturally contradictory opinions on such a subject as to what\nconstitutes the morality of magic. The old Shaman or Manitou regarded\nwitchcraft as wicked. The Roman Catholic has taught the Indian that all\nsorceries and spells except his own are of the devil. Hence it came\nthat I got from two Passamaquoddy Indians, next-door neighbors, the\nfollowing opinions:--\n\n_Tomah_.--\"There was once a man who hated another. So he prayed\nuntil he became a snake,\" etc.\n\n_Another Indian_.--\"If a man wanted to be _m'teoulin_ he must\ngo without food, or sleep, or saying his prayers, for seven days. Yes,\nthat certainly. He must go far into the woods. He must go again when\nhis power was used up.\"\n\nThe faith in and fondness for magic were so great among the Algonquins\nthat there is not one even of their most serious histories into which\nit has not been introduced. The Passamaquoddies will narrate an\nincident of their wars with the Mohawks. The first time it will all be\nprobable enough; but hear it again, when the story-teller has become\nmore trustful, and some of the actors in it or the scene will be sure\nto end like a Christmas pantomime in fairy-land. With them\n_m'teoulin_ covered everything; it entered into every detail of\nlife. I do not think that it was so deeply felt even by the ancient\nBabylonians or the modern Arabs and Hindoos as by our red men. It is no\nwonder they prefer the Catholic religion to the Protestant.\n\nThere is a Micmac legend which is so magical and mystical, so inspired\nwith Eskimo Shamanism, that it would not be remarkable if it had been\noriginally a sacred song. This is\n\n\n\n\n_The Giant Magicians._\n\n\nThere was once a man and his wife who lived by the sea, far away from\nother people. They had many children, and they were very poor. One day\nthis couple were in their canoe, far from land. There came up a dense\nfog; they were quite lost.\n\nThey heard a noise as of paddles and voices. It drew nearer. They saw\ndimly a monstrous canoe filled with giants, who greeted the little folk\nlike friends. \"_Uch keen, tahmee wejeaok_?\" \"My little brother,\"\nsaid the leader, \"where are you going?\" \"I am lost in the fog,\" said\nthe poor Indian, very sadly. \"Ah, come with us to our camp,\" said the\ngiant, who seemed to be a good fellow, if there ever was one. \"Truly,\nye will be well treated, my small friends, for my father is the chief;\nso be of good cheer!\" And they, being much amazed at this gentleness,\nsat still in awe, while two of the giants, each putting a tip of his\npaddle under their bark, lifted it up and put it into their own, as if\nit had been a chip. And truly the giants seemed to be as much pleased\nwith the little folk as a boy would be who had found a flying squirrel.\n[Footnote: A story like this of giants in a canoe would very naturally\noriginate about the Bay of Fundy, where, in the dense and frequent\nfogs, all objects assume greatly exaggerated apparent dimensions. One\noften beholds there, on the shore, \"men as trees walking.\"]\n\nAnd as they drew near the beach, lo! they beheld three wigwams, high as\nmountains, in size according to that of the giants. And coming to meet\nthem was the chief, who was taller than the rest.\n\n\"Ha!\" he cried. \"Son, what have you there? Where did you pick up that\nlittle brother?\" \"_Noo_, my father, I found him lost in the fog.\"\n\"Well, bring him home to the lodge, my son!\" So the giant took the\nsmall canoe in the palm of his hand, the man and his wife sitting\ntherein, and carried them home. Then they were taken into the wigwam,\nand the canoe was laid carefully in the eaves, but within easy reach,\nabout a hundred and fifty yards from the ground.\n\nThen an abundant meal was set before them, but the benevolent host,\nmindful of their small size, did not give them more to eat than they\nwould have needed for about ten years to come, and informed them in a\nsubdued whisper, which could hardly have been heard a hundred miles\noff, that his name was Oscoon. [Footnote: Mr. Rand suggests that this\nmay indicate the dark color of his tribe. Eskimo legends speak of\npeople among them who were black.]\n\nNow it came to pass, a few days after, that a company of these well-grown\npeople went hunting, and when they returned the guests must needs pity\nthem that they had no game in their land which answered to their size;\nfor they came in with strings of such small affairs as two or three\ndozen caribou hanging in their belts, as a Micmac would carry a string\nof squirrels, and swinging one or two moose in their hands like rabbits.\nYet, what with these and many deer, bears, and beavers, they made up in\nthe weight of their game what it lacked in size, and of what they had\nthey were generous.\n\nNow the giants became very fond of the small folk, and would not for\nthe world that they should in any way come to harm. And it came to pass\nthat one morning the chief told them that they were to have a grand\nbattle, since they expected in three days to be attacked by a Chenoo.\nTherefore the Micmac saw that in all things it was even with the giants\nas with his own people at home, they having their troubles with the\nwicked, and the chiefs their share in being obliged to keep up their\nmagic and know all that was going on in the world. Yea, for he would be\na poor _powwow_ and a necromancer worth nothing who could not\nforetell such a trifle as the day and hour when an enemy would be on\nthem!\n\nBut this time the Sakumow (M.), or sagamore, was forewarned, and bade\nhis little guests stop their ears and bind up their heads, and roll\nthemselves in many folds of dressed skins, lest they should hear the\ndeadly war-scream of the Chenoo. And with all their care they hardly\nsurvived it; but the second scream hurt them less; and after the third\nthe chief came to them with a cheerful countenance, and bade them arise\nand unpack themselves, for the monster was slain, and though his four\nsons, with two other giants, had been sorely tried, yet they had\nconquered.\n\nBut the sorrows of the good are never at an end, and so it was with\nthese honest giants, who were always being pestered with some kind of\nscurvy knaves or others who would not leave them in peace. For anon the\nchief announced that this time a Kookwes--a burly, beastly villain, not\ntwo points better than his cousin the Chenoo--was coming to play at\nrough murder with them. And, verily, by this time the Micmac began to\nbelieve, without bating an ace on it, that all of these tall people\nwere like the wolves, who, meeting with nobody else, bite one another.\nSo they were bound and bundled up as before, and put to bed like dolls.\nAnd again they heard the horrible shout, the moderate shout, and the\nsmaller shout, until _sooel moonoodooahdigool_, which, being\ninterpreted, meaneth that they hardly heard him at all.\n\nThen the warriors, returning, gave proof that they had indeed done\nsomething more than kick the wind, for they were covered with blood,\nand their legs were stuck full of large pines, with here and there an\noak or hemlock, for the fight had been in a forest; so that they had\nbeen as much troubled as men would be with thistles, nettles, and pine\nsplinters, which is truly often a great trouble. But this was their\nleast trial, for, as they told their chief, the enemy had well-nigh\nmade Jack Drum's entertainment for them, and led them the devil's\ndance, had not one of them, by good luck, opened his eye for him with a\nrock which drove it into his brain. And as it was, the chiefs youngest\nson had been so mauled that, coming home, he fell dead just before his\nfather's door. Truly this might have been deemed almost an accident in\nsome families; but lo! what a good thing it is to have an enchanter in\nthe house, especially one who knows his business, as did the old chief,\nwho, going out, asked the young man why he was lying there. To which he\nreplying that it was because he was dead, his father bade him rise and\nwalk, which he did straight to the supper table, and ate none the less\nfor it.\n\nNow the old chief, thinking that perhaps, his dear little people found\nlife dull and devoid of incident with him, asked them if they were\naweary of him. They, with golden truth indeed, answered that they had\nnever been so merry, but that they were anxious as to their children at\nhome. He answered that they were indeed right, and that the next\nmorning they might depart. So their canoe was reached down for them,\nand packed full of the finest furs and best meat, when they were told\nto _tebah'-dikw'_, or get in. Then a small dog was put in, and\nthis dog was solemnly charged that he should take the people home,\nwhile the people were told to paddle in the direction in which the dog\nshould point. [Footnote: Strange as it may seem, there is not the least\nexaggeration in this. Lieutenant-Colonel Barclay Kennan told me that\nwhen surveying in the far North Pacific he had an Eskimo dog which, in\nthe thickest fog, would scent the land at a great distance, and\ncontinually point to it.] And to the Micmac he said, \"Seven years hence\nyou will be reminded of me.\" And then _tokooboosijik_ (off they\nwent). The man sat in the stern, his wife in the prow, and the dog in\nthe middle of the canoe. The dog pointed, the Indian paddled, the water\nwas smooth. They soon reached home; the children with joy ran to meet\nthem; the dog as joyfully ran to see the children, wagging his tail\nwith great glee, just as if he had been like any other dog, and not a\nfairy. For, having made acquaintance, he without delay turned tail and\ntrotted off for home again, running over the ocean surface as if it had\nbeen hard ice; which might, indeed, have once astonished the good man\nand his wife, but they had of late days seen so many wonders that they\nwere past marveling.\n\nNow this Indian, who had in the past been always poor, seemed to have\nquite recovered from that complaint. When he let down his lines the\nbiggest fish bit; all his sprats were salmon; he prayed for goslings,\nand got geese; moose were as mice to him now; yea, he had the best in\nthe land, with all the fatness thereof. So seven years passed away, and\nthen, as he slept, there came unto him divers dreams, and in them he\nwent back to the Land of the Giants, and saw all those who had been so\nkind to him. And yet again he dreamed one night that he was standing by\nhis wigwam near the sea, and that a great whale swam up to him and\nbegan to sing, and that the singing was the sweetest he had ever heard.\n\nThen he remembered that the giant had told him he would think of him in\nseven years; and it came clearly before him what it all meant, and that\nhe was erelong to have magical power given to him, and that he should\nbecome a _Megumoowessoo_. This he told his wife, who, not being\nlearned in darksome lore, would fain know more nearly what kind of a\nbeing he expected to be, and whether a spirit or a man, good or bad;\nwhich was, indeed, not easy to explain, nor is it clearly set down in\nthe chronicles beyond this,--that, whatever it might be, it was all for\nthe best, and that there was a great deal of magic in it.\n\nThat day they saw a great shark cruising about in their bay, chasing\nfish, and this they held for an evil omen. But, soon after, there came\ntrotting towards them over the sea the same small dog who had been\ntheir pilot from the Land of the Giants. So he, full of joy, as before,\nat seeing them and the children, wagged his tail and danced for glee,\nand then looked earnestly at the man as if for some message. And to him\nthe man said, \"It is well. In three years' time I will make you a\nvisit. I will look to the southwest.\" Then the dog licked the hands and\nthe ears and the eyes of the man, and went home as before over the sea,\nrunning on the water.\n\nAnd when the three years had passed the Indian entered his canoe, and,\npaddling without fear, found his way to the Land of the Giants. He saw\nthe wigwams standing on the beach; the immense canoes were drawn up on\nthe water's edge; from afar he beheld the old giant coming down to\nwelcome him. But he was alone. And when he had been welcomed, and was\nin the wigwam, he learned that all the sons were dead. They had died\nthree years before, when the shark, the great sorcerer, had been seen.\n\nThey had gone, and the old man had but lingered a little longer. They\nhad made the magic change, they had departed, and he would soon join\nthem _in his own kingdom_. But ere he went he would leave their\ngreat inheritance, their magic, to the man.\n\nTherewith the giant brought out his son's clothes, and bade the Indian\nput them on. Truly this was as if he had been asked to clothe himself\nwith a great house, since the smallest fold in them would have been to\nhim as a cavern. But he stepped in, and as he did this he rose to great\nsize; he filled out the garments till they fitted; he was a giant, of\nGiant-Land. With the clothes came the wisdom, the _m'teoulin_, the\n_manitou_ power of the greatest and wisest of the olden time. He\nwas indeed _Megumoowessoo_, and had attained to the Mystery.\n\nThis very remarkable and evidently ancient tale is one of that kind\nwhich the keepers of tribe chronicles among the pagan Indians do not\ntell to the world, and which they conceal from white men. It is not a\nfragment, nor is it unfinished, as some readers may suppose. Its plot\nis of a much higher nature than a novel, which ends in a marriage. To\nan Indian, whose ideas of earthly happiness were not in money, houses,\nand lands, personal power was the one thing to be most desired. As a\nPassamaquoddy said once to me, \"To be rich in those days meant to be a\ngreat hunter and always have plenty of meat for everybody.\" Hence the\ndesire to be great and strong, to be able to entice wild animals, to\nrun like the wind, to be crafty in all things, especially in making\nwar; hence to have prophetic dreams. All of this was to be attained by\n_m'teoulin_, or magic. The highest ambition of an Indian was to\nbecome a _Megumoowessoo_, a mystical being, which is explained\ndifferently as fairy, faun, sylvan deity, but which means one who\nenjoys all the highest privileges of humanity allied to the\nsupernatural. This is what the hero of this story gets by favor of the\ngiant.\n\nIt may be observed that in this tale the Indian cannot explain to his\nwife what he nevertheless perfectly understands; that is, the exact\nnature of a _Megumoowessoo_. The giant, by speaking of his own\nkingdom, gives the true key of the whole mystery. He has attained magic\npower so far as one can exercise it in this life. Like Glooskap he can\nbe, or unlike him prefers, to be habitually, a giant. He has battled\nwith the Chenoo and Kookwess; he has, like Hercules, fulfilled his\nmission; and now he departs for his own realm, that of the\n_Megumoowessoo_, as Arthur went to Fairy-Land, as Buddha to the\nunknown Nirvana,--that is, to something beyond the conception of poet\nor theosophist.\n\nI suspect that the period of seven years, and again of three years, had\nbeen employed by the Indian in preparing himself by penance for\n_m'teoulin_. The respect of the Indians for the number\n_seven_ is so remarkable, that if it be true that _Deus\nimparibus numeris gaudet_, they are in that respect, at least, like\ndeities. Whenever _seven_ or a white bear's skin occurs in these\ntales, there always lies hidden a magical mystery.\n\nIt is not the least remarkable feature of this tale that it abounds in\nthat quiet small humor which recalls the adventures of Captain Lemuel\nGulliver. The Indian, like, the Norseman, was such an _implicit_\nbeliever in his own myths, and he had evolved them so entirely from\nhimself without borrowing,--since we may regard him as one in this\nrespect with the Eskimo,--that no human characteristic detracted from\nthe dignity of the Manitou.\n\nThere is a strong suggestion in this story that the giants were whales.\nThis and the incident of their inhabiting a mysterious country beyond\nthe sea and the fog would identify them with the enchanted land of the\nEskimo, visited by the Angakok in their trances, and by others in\n_kayaks_. This country was named _Akilinek_, \"a fabulous land\nbeyond the sea.\" The whole story of Malaise, the man who traveled to\nAkilinek, is in every detail extremely like an Indian tale. (Rink, page\n169.) It has also a Norse affinity. The land of the giants was supposed\nby both Icelanders and Indians to be in the North Atlantic. There is a\nNorse tale of a man changed to a whale which indicates a common origin\nwith the one here given.\n\nIt is believed that the _m'teoulin_ can, when speaking, make\nthemselves heard to whom they will, at any distance. They, can confer\nwith one another secretly when miles away, or make themselves known to\nmany. I was informed by an Indian in all faith that an old witch who\ndied in 1876, twelve miles from Pleasant Point, was heard to speak in\nthe latter place when at her last. A very intelligent Passamaquoddy\ntold me that when Osalik (Sarah) Hequin died he himself heard all she\nsaid, though sixty-five miles distant. I am certain that he firmly\nbelieved this. This woman died a strange death, for she was found\nstanding up, dead, in the snow, with her arms extended and \"hands\nsticking out.\" It is generally believed that she was killed by other\n_m'teoulin_.\n\nThere are really very few ideas in modern mesmerism not known to Eskimo\nor Indian Shamans. Clairvoyance is called by the Passamaquoddies\n_Meelah bi give he_.\n\n  GLINT-WAH-GNOUR PES SAUSMOK.\n\n  N'loan pes-sans, mok glint ont-aven\n  Glint ont-aven, nosh mor-gun\n  N'loan sep-scess syne-duc\n  Mach-ak wah le-de-born harlo kirk\n  Pes-sauk-wa morgun pa-zazeu.\n  Dout-tu eowall, yu' eke ne-mess comall\n  Dow-dar bowsee des ge-che-ne-wes skump,\n  Na-havak dunko to-awk w'che-mon wh'oak\n  No-saw yu-well _Mooen_ nill\n  Mask da-ah gawank la me la-tak-a-dea-on\n  Di-wa godamr Kudunk-ah dea-on\n  Glor-ba dea-on glom-de-nec\n  Glint-wah-gnour pes sausmok.\n\n  THE SONG OF THE STARS.\n\n  We are the stars which sing,\n  We sing with our light;\n  We are the birds of fire,\n  We fly over the sky.\n  Our light is a voice;\n  We make a road for spirits,\n  For the spirits to pass over.\n  Among us are three hunters\n  Who chase a bear;\n  There never was a time\n  When they were not hunting.\n  We look down on the mountains.\n  This is the Song of the Stars.\n\n  \"Ahboohe b'lo maryna Piel to-marcess\"\n  We poual gee yuaa\n  Mar-yuon _cordect_ delo son\n  Ne morn-en nute magk med-agon\n  On-e-est Molly duse-al _ca-soo-son nen_.\n\n  Tumbling end over end, goes Piel to _mercess_,\n  With feathers on his eyes.\n  To the maple-sap ridge _we are going_,\n  Our lunch a cod-fish skin;\n  _One est_ Molly's daughter goes with us.","title":"Algonquin Legends of New England","tradition":"myth-cosmogony","translated_text":null,"word_count":103541}