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1 2 3

32X

LEGENDS

THE MICMACS

BY THE

REV. SILAS TERTIUS RAND,

D.U., O.C.L., LL.D.

aKellesles IPijilological ^Publications.

NEW YORK AND LONDON:

LONGMANS, GREEN, AND CO.
1894.

John Wilson and Son, Cambridge, U.S.A.

PREFACE.

HP HE following Micmac Legends were collected
by the Rev. Silas T. Rand, who was for forty
years a missionary among the Micmac Indians of
Nova Scotia. The stories were related to him in
Micmac, by the native Indians, and then translated
and written down by him in English ; the translations
only have been preserved, in no case the narration in
the original language. Of his mode of procedure in
taking down these legends. Dr. Rand says: "The
greater portion of these legendary remains were writ-
ten out at first, not in Indian, but in English. I never
found an Indian, either man or woman, who would
undertake to tell one of these stories in English. I
heard them related, in all cases, in Micmac. I usually
had pen, ink, and paper at hand ; if I came to a word
I did not understand, I would stop the speaker, jot
down the word with its meaning, make a few other
brief notes, and then write out the story in English
from memory, aided by the brief notes I had made.
But this was not all; I always read over the story
in English to the one who related it, and made all
necessary corrections."

rRIU-ACE.

Concerning; the origin of these Indian stories, and
their rclationhiiip to liuropcan tales and myths, Dr.
Rand says : " I have never found more than five or
six Indians who could relate these queer stories ; and
most, if not all, of these are now gone. Who their
original author was, or how old they are, we have no
means of knowing. Some of them are evidently of
modern date, because they refer to events that have
taken place since the advent of the whites. Some of
them arc so similar to some of our old European ' fairy-
tales ' and ' wizard stories,' as told in our I'Jiglish story-
books, as to lead to the imj)ression that they arc really
one and the same." Mr. Charles G. Leland, in his
" Algonquin Legends of New England," ' calls atten-
tion to some curious coincidences between the Norse
myths and those of the Wabanaki or Northeastern
Algonquins, to which branch the Micmacs belong ; he
inclines to the opinion that these resemblances are to
be explained by the theory of direct transmission.

Soon after the death of Dr. Rand, in icSSg, the
Legends, tosethcr with other valuable Micmac and
Maliseet manuscripts, were purchased by Professor
E. N. Horsford for the library of American Linguis-
tics, Wcllesley College, and placed in charge of the
Department of Comparative Philology for publication.

The value of this material, collected by the untiring
industry of the Rev. Dr. Rand, was readily recognized
by Professor Horsford ; he did not fail to see in it a
contribution of rare worth, alike to the philologist,
the anthropologist, and the ethnologist; he believed
that traces of the Northmen might be found in these

* Preface, p. 3.

PREFACE.

Vll

Indian talcs, and that the lant^uagc of the IMicmacs
might, upon clt)scr study, reveal tiic inii)rcss of the
early Norse invaders. He therefore desired that
these works sliould be published, and thus placed
with!.! the reach of investigators.

The ability and zeal of Dr. Rand have saved from
oblivion the rich material of a whole language and
literature; the generosity and scholarly enthusiasm of
Professor Ilorsford have furnished the means whereby
the publication of this material is made possible ; the
service which these two scholars have rendered to a trio
of sister sciences will prove more and more a stimulus
to research, the more the attention of scholars turns to
the study of the aboriginal inhabitants of our country.

The original manuscript of Legends in Dr. Rand's
collection is a volume of nine hundred quarto pages.
A few of these legends have already been published.

IVIr. Charles G. Leland, while preparing his volume
entitled " The Algonquin Legends of New England,"
made use of the manuscript of Dr. Rand for some of
his stories of Glooscap, of the adventures of Master
Rabbit, and of the Partridge ; also for the Chenoo
legends, and some talcs of mairic.

The "Dominion Monthly" for 1871 contains nine
legends by the Rev. Silas T. Rand.

The "North American Review" for 1871, in an
article by William Elder, entitled "The Aborigines
of Nova Scotia," contains several stories about the
Kwedech Wars, Glooscap, Kaktoowasees (Little
Thunder), and Keekwajoo (the Badger).

The "American Antiquarian," edited by Stephen D.
Peet, Chicago, Illinois, contains the following legends :

VIM

m Eh ACE.

Vol. XII. pp. I5^>-I59, May, 1890. The Hcautifiil Hriclc.

Vol. XII. pp. 283-286, Sept. i8yo. Glooscap, Cluikw,
Coolpiijot.

\\A. XIII. pp. 41-42, Jan. 1S91. A Giant Story.

Vol. XIII. pp. 163-170, March, 1S91. The Stor)' of the
Mooscwooil .Man.

VVIiilc sonic portions of the Legends have thus
already in substance been presented to the public, yet
the entire collection, in the form in which Dr. Rand
wrote it, now for the first time appears in print.

In preparing this work for publication, I have en-
deavored to preserve, as nearly as po.ssible, the wording
of the original ; some changes have, however, been
deemed necessary for the sake of greater clearness, or
to remove such slight grammatical inaccuracies as have,
evidently through inadvertence, slipped into the te.xt.
In th([} sj)elling of some of the Indian proper names
there is considerable variation in the manuscrijit, due
perliaps jiartly to oversight, partly to the fact that
Dr. Rand, in spelling these words phonetically, availed
himself of an admissible variation of characters to
represent the same sound, and partly to a real differ-
ence in the sound of the words as spoken by different
narrators. The English-Micmac Dictionary of Dr.
Rand,' which I have followed in some cases where
the manuscript showed various spellings, has been of
great service to me.

Since the death of Profes.sor Ilorsford on New
Year's day of the present year I have felt deeply the
loss of his friendly coun.sel and genial interest in the
editing of this work ; yet this loss has been lessened,

1 Halifax, N. S., 18S8.

PR El- ACE.

in so far as miolit be, by the cordiality with which his
family, especially Misses Lilian and Cornelia llorsford,
have cooi)erated with mc in the execution of his plan.-i.
My thanks are due to Mr. \V. F. (;anon.[r, ,,f Harvard
Univer>ity, for valuable siigocstions ; and especially to
Mrs. A. I'. Harris, of Chauncy Hall School, Boston,
for reading; with me the proof-sheets.

A deej) interest in the work, as i ^ribllte of respect
to his venerated and distincruished kinsman, has been
shown throughout by Dr. lieri min Uand, .. flarvard
University.

HKI.LiN L. VVEDSTER.

UepAKTMENT ok CoMI'AKATiVK I'llILOLOCiY,

Wklleslev College,
November, 1893.

TABLE OF CONTENTS.

Preface ^'"■''

IXTRODUCTION. PaKT I. SKETCH OF THE LiFE OF THE ReV.

Silas Tertius Rand

Introduction. Part II. Works of the Rev. Silas T
Rand

Introduction. Part III. The " Manners," Customs," Lan^ ""'

GUAGE, AND LITERATURE OF THE MlCMAC INDIANS . . XXX
Legend

I. Robbery and Murder revenged

II. The Magical Dancing Doll

III. The Magical Coat, Shoes, and Sword . . . . .' ." .* ,.

IV. Glooscap and the Megumoowesoo .' , jt

V. The Boy that was transformed into a Horse ' ' ' ' ' ^

VI. The Magical Food, Belt, and Flute ts

VII, The History of UsUebulajoo . .

Addition No. r to Legend VII. .....* * *^

Addition No. 2 to Legend VII * ' ^

VIII. The History of Krt^ joseagunow ......' g-'

Addition to Legend VIII

IX. The Small Baby and the Big Bird . 3J

Xl' T^ I^'^'.^r '''''° ''^' transformed into a Megumoowesoo '. 94

Al. The Ice Man . . ^^

XII. The Invisible Boy " ' ' ^^

XIV ^f ' ^^^'^"*"'-^« °f Kak'toogwase'es : ! ! ! ! ! .' [ Z

AV. The Adventures of Ababejrt, an Indian Chief and Magi-
cian of the Micmac Tribe . z-

XVI. The Kwgdechk and VVejebowkwejlk '.'.'.'.'.'' ITy

Addition to Legend XVI . • • 37

vvmt' Jl'" ^'^"'■-^°'°'-^d Giants' and "Magiciuns ." '.'.'.'' \ll

XVIII. The Solitary Maiden ..... • • • • 142

XIX. The Prince and the Peasant-Girl" . .' 11°

Xll,

TAIiLE OF CONTENTS.

Legend Page

XX. The Two Weasels 160

XXI. Tlie Marvellous Adventures of Noojebokv*. " '.'jit, a

Micniac Brave 169

XXII. All Incident of the Wars with the Kenebek Indians . 179

XXIII. Stoiy of a Kookwes 1S3

XXIV. The Beautiful Bride 185

XXV. Adventures with a Chenoo, or Northman .... 190

XXVI. Origin of the War between the Micniacs and the

KwCdociies 200

XXVII. Kwedech War renewed 207

XXVIII. The Conclusion of the Mohawk War 212

XXIX. The Third Incident of the Kwedech War .... 216

XXX. Kwedech Spies 219

XXXI. The Returned Captive 223

XXXII. The Dream of the White Robe and the Floating

Island ... 225

XXXIII. Glooscap's Departure from the Land of the Micmacs . 22S

XXXIV. The Indian Fanatic 230

XXXV. Gloosca]), Kuhkw, and Coolpujot 232

XXXVI. A War Story 238

XXXVII. The Man who saved Himself and Wife 241

XXXVIII. Stephen Hood's Dream 242

XXXIX. The Death of a Spy in Cape Breton 244

XL. The Hidden Life 245

XLI. An Indian turned into a Chenoo 246

XLII. Another Chenoo Transformation 250

XLI 1 1. Glooscap and his Four Visitors , ..... 253

XLIV. A Child nourished by a Bear 259

Addition to the Bear Story 262

XLV. Badger and his Litde Brother 263

XLVI. Glooscap deserted by his Comrades 270

XLVII. An Indian Chiefs Visit to the King of France . . . 279

XLVIII. A Little Boy catches a Whale 280

XLIX. A Chapel built without Hands 282

L. A Wizard carries off Glooscap's Housekeeper . . . 284

LI. History of the Celebrated Chief, Ulglmoo .... 294

LI I. Attack on Fort Pesegitk' (Windsor) by the Indians . 298

LI 1 1. The Adventures of Ableegiimooch 300

LIV. The Hare assumes the Magician, and retaliates . . 304

LV. The Badger and the Star-Wives 306

LVI. The Story of MImkudawogoosk' (Moosewood Man) . 321

LVII. The Story of Coolnajoo 326

LVIII. Mooln and Moonumkwech' (The Bear and the Wood-
chuck) 334

LIX. Oochlgeopch 336

LX. Glooscap's Origin 339

169
'79
183
185
190

TABLE OF COXTEXTS. xil'i

Legend p

LXI. A War Incident ^^^^

LXII. An Army drowned by a Sin-le Man 342

LXI 1 1. A War-party drowned l)y Two Women .... 344

LXIV. Indian Strategy -,.

LXV. The Animal-Tamers ^,_

LX\'I. Tlic IJeaver Magicians and the Big Fish .... 3-1

LX\'II. Caught by a Hair-String o-,

LX\'III. Tumilkoontaoo (liroken Wing) -.{^q

LXIX. A Priest lost in the Woods with his Servant Peter tX^a

LXX. A Fairy Tale 35^

LXXI. A Wonderful Bull's-IIide Pelt • " 369

LXXII. The Tortoises ,_.

LXXIII. The Loon Masrieian .... ,,c

'-' 3/ ^

LXX IV. Wegooaskunoogwejit and his Wonderful Hen . , 383

LXXV. Piilcs, Pulowech', Beechkwcch (Pigeon, Partridge,

and Nighthawk) * • 389

LXXVI. The Adventures of Tornado and Wave . . •706

LXX VII. The Orchard-Keeper ." ! ! 401

LXXVIII. Wiskumoogwasoo and Magwis (Fish-Hawk and

Scapegrace) ^^^

LXX IX. The Whales and the Robbers .... 4,5

LXXX. The Doctor ••..'.'.'.'. \-i

LXXXI. The Flying Scpurrel .... .-a

LXXXII. The Fairy .'.".■ .43,

LXXXI 1 1. Upsaakumoode ...

LXXX IV. The Fishers and the Beacon ^^g

LXXXV. The King's Daughter and the Man-Servant ... 440

LXXXVI. Uskoos' and Abiikcheech (Wea.sel and Mouse) . aat.

LXXXVII. The Three Kings ..^

" 447

Memoranda ....

451

INTRODUCTION.

SKETCH OF THE LIFE OF THE REV. SILAS
TERTIUS RAND.

T KNOW of no more satisfactory way of presenting to my
readers a brief account of the life, viewed especially
from the side of its philological achievement, of the Rev
Silas T. Rand, than to repeat here the vivid sketch whicli
the reverend gentleman himself gave in response to one
who asked him to tell the story of his life.

"I was born," said Dr. Rand, "at Brooklyn Street, Corn.-allis, six
m.Ies from Kentville, Nova Scotia. My grandfather came to this
provmce after the expulsion of the French-Acadians. He was
one of the English pioneers. I do not know how much land he
obtamed, but my own flxther and his youngest brother were allotted
one square mile of woodland, - now some of the fmest land in
the Cornwallis valley. I was the eighth in a family of twenty-two
children, and was born on the i8th of May, ,S,o. My father was
marned th:^e times. IJy his first wife, An.y Tapper, he had three
children. PI.s second wife was Deborah Tupper, a sister of the late
Rev. Dr. Tupper (father of Sir Charles, who is consequently my
cousm ; and by her he had five children, of whom I am the youngest.
My father married, thirdly, a Miss Schofield. who bore him fourLn
children. The mother of this Miss Schofield lived to be one hundred
and six years old, and when she was one hundred, her memory was
as clear as a bell. My father died at the age of seventy-four ; and of
the family of twenty-two, only fi^-e now survive. Whatever talent I

i I.

XVI

introduction:

have been blessed with, I have inherited from my mother. My
mother never went to school two weeks in her life j but she was a
beautiful reader, and was a poetess of no mean al)ility.

I was educated in the greatest university of all time, ancient or
modern, — a building as large as all outdoors, and that had the broad
canopy of heaven for a roof. My father taught me to read — and
he taught me more thoroughly to work on the fiirm — when I was a
small boy. My father and grandfather before me had been brick-
layers ; and when I was eighteen years of age, I commenced a seven
years' apprenticeship to that honorable and muscle-developing pro-
fession. Wlien I was a small boy, I went to school, such as schools
were then, for a few weeks to Sarah Ikckwith, Sarah Pierce, and
Wealthy Tupper, respectively. None of them amounted to much as
teachers, and Wealthy Tui)pcr could not write her own nam ; but
there was one thing she could do, — she could and did teach and
show us the way to Heaven. During the evenings of three winters I
went to school taught by a man, and * graduated ' when eleven years
of age. Seven years later, I determined to study and master the
science of arithmetic. This I did with the aid of a book.

" I took my first lesson in Englisli grammar when twenty-three
years of age from an old stager named Bennett. I paid him three dol-
lars for the lesson, and after learning it, started and taught a couple
of classes of my own at two dollars per pupil. Next, I studied Latin
grammar four weeks at Horton Academy, when Rev. Dr. Pryor,
now living in Halifax (1886), was principal of that institution. Then,
in the spring of 1833, I returned to the work of a stonemason and the
study of Latin. There was then no " ten-hour system " in existence.
It was manual labor from sunrise to sundown. But I took a lesson in
Latin before going to work, studied it while at work, took another
lesson at dinner, and another at night. I should have told you that
my first lesson in Latin was taken the first night of the four weeks I
spent in Horton Academy. I heard a fellow-student, the late Rev.
Wellington Jackson, repeat over and over again : ' The words opus and
usiis, signifying " need," require the ablative, as, Est opus pecunia.,
" There is need of money." ' That rule, and the truth it contained,
was so impressed upon my memory and was such a perfect illustration
of my own circumstances, that I never forgot it. In 1834 I was or-
dained a Baptist minister by Father Manning, and took charge of the

I .1

;

INTRODUCTION.

xvu

church at Parrsboro, where I i)reached and continued the study of
Latin, as well as of Greek and Hebrew. In iSj6 I v, ?nt back to
Horton Academy for a few months ; and from that time the study of
languages became a passion."

Upon being asked whether he could speak and write a
dozen languages, Dr. Rand replied : —

" I could twenty years ago, but perhaps I should have to refresh my
memory somewhat to do it in my seventy-sixth year. Twenty years
ago I knew English, Latin, Greek, Hebrew, French, Italian, German,
Spanish, Modern Greek, Micmac, Maliseet, and Mohawk ; I am a
little rusty now, as I said, but I could then read Latin, French, Italian,
and Spanish almost as well as English. And even now I am reading
through, for the second time, Buchanan's Latin History of Scotland.
Do you ask which is my favorite language? Micmac. Why? Be-
cause it is one of the most marvellous of all languages, ancient or
modern, — marvellous in its construction, in its regularity, in its ful-
ness, — and it is the language in which I have, perhaps, done the most
good. It is a language into which I have translated the Bible, and in
which I have been privileged to preach the gospel to thousands of
semi-savages.

" After leaving Parrsboro, I was pastor of the Baptist churches at
Horton, Liverpool, Windsor, and Charlottetown, respectively, until
1846, when, just forty years ago, I dedicated my life to missionary
work among the semi-savage Indians of Nova Scotia. A wonderful
foreign mission sentiment had swept over Nova Scotia. The Baptists
had sent Mr. and Mrs. Burpee to Burmah ; and John Geddes and
Isaac Archibald, two young Nova Scotians in the Presbyterian minis-
try, had devoted their lives to work among the savages of the South
Sea Islands. Prof. Isaac Chipman, who was afterwards drowned with
a party of students returning from Blomidon, was then at Acadia
College ; he remarked one day that we should look after the heathen
at home, and suggested that I should learn the Indian language. I
took hold of the idea, and determined thenceforth to devote my life
to the work of civilizing, educating, and christianizing the semi-savage
Indians of the maritime provinces. I resigned the pastorate of my
church, — that comparatively easy way of earning a livelihood, — gave
up all the comforts, conveniences, prospects, and social happiness of

XVIU

INTRODUCTION.

a pastor, and devoted a large i^ortion of my life to association with
savages, having siu.1^ comforts as were to be derived from association
with them, and spending portions of a lifetime in wigwams and in
the woods. Of course, my first task was to master the language,
which I can assure you was no easy matter. Fortunately I made the
acquaintance of a Frenchman, named Joe Brooks, who had lived
among the Indians nearly all his life, and could talk both French
and Micmac very fluently; he was also an intelligent man. His
father was a French man-of-war sailor, who was cai)tured by the
British during the wars between those two empires for supremacy on '
this continent, and was brought as a prisoner to Halifax. He did not
return to France with his confreres, but went up to Digl)y and settled
there. The son lived among the Micmacs, married one of them, and
translated his name, Joseph Ruisseaux, into Joseph Brooks. He ren-
dered me great service in mastering the Micmac language, and it was
from his lips that 1 first learned of the wonderful legends that, after
confirmation by many old Indians, I subsequently gave to the world.

"At that time (1846; the condition of the Indians was not ma-
terially different from what it was two hundred years previously. It
was llie policy of that day to keep them in ignorance and degradation.
They were taught to preserve the traditions of barbarism, and on no
account to become like white men. But, thank God, all this has
been changed in forty years, in spite of bitter opposition and difficul-
ties that were apparently insurmountable. They are now treated not
only as human beings, but as citizens. They have the Gospel and
other books in their own language ; they live in houses, dress, work,
and eat like other people, and have property and schools of their own.
Forty years ago tiie power of caste and prejudice against the Indians
was so strong in Nova Scotia that even such a good man as Isaac
Chipman did not dare to allow me the use of an unfinished and un-
occupied room in Acadia College in which I could obtain lessons from
one solitary Indian, for fear of affecting the prosperity of the college
in which his heart was so bound up. But to-day not only are the
doors of that institution thrown wide opcii to boys and girls, and
Indians and negroes, and all other nationalities, but Indians and
negroes will be found sitting side by side with whites in the common
schools and academies all over the provinces. Of the present con-
dition of the Indians of this province, eighty per cent of the improve-
ment has taken place within the past twenty-five years.

INTRODUCTION. xix

"The Indians are not (lying out, as some believe ; on the contrary,
they are increasing. Here are liie census statistics of the Indian
population of Nova Scotia and New IJrunswick for the past thirty
years : —

Year. Nova Scotia. New Drunswick.

iSsi 1,056 1,116

I^'i^I 1,407 1,212

1S71 1,666 1,403

I8SI 2,125 1,401

['^92 2,151 1,511]

" This shows that the Indians in Nova Scotia have more than
doubled in one generation. There are, besides, 281 on Prince PMward
Island, which gives us 3,807 Indians in the maritime provinces at the
present time. People are deceived by the fact that, wiiercas they
were formerly accustomed to see large numliers of Indians encamped
in one place, they now generally find them scattered and broken up
into small settlements.

" As regards my support, that was provided for in the early years
of my work among the Indians, by the Micmac Missionary Society,
which agreed to pay me two hundred pounds a year. That was a
nominal salary ; but it was saddled with one condition, — provided
I could get it. Of course that was a very unsatisfactory method.
Twenty- two years ago I adopted the Miiller system of living by faith.
George Miiller is one of the most remarkable Christian philanthropists
of tlie age; he maintains more than five thousand orphan children at
Bristol by public charity, and never asks any man for a dollar Since
1S64 I have had no fixed saliry, made no pui)lic appeals for money,
demanded no collections, and never asked any man ^or a dollar. I'or
twenty-two years I have lived by faith in God, — that my bread would
be given me, and that my water would Ije sure, — and during the
whole of that time I have never had a demand which I could not
meet. Indeed, I could relate to you many wonderful instances of
answers to prayer. The good Lord has always supplied my wants, —
not always in the way I looked for it, but in his own way."

From November, 1853, until his death in October, 1889,
Dr. Rand resided in Hantsport, Nova Scotia. One who visited

INTRODUCTJOA'.

him in his home at that place thus describes the venerable
missionary and scholar: —

" One mile back of that pretty little village of Hantsport, stands
the home of Dr. Rand. His study is filled, mostly, with old musty
books of ancient languages and literature. On his writing-table, and
piled on the shelves, are manuscripts of his unpublished Indian
works. The sight of this veteran missionary in his study, surrounded
by his twelve tiiousand manuscript jiages of Micmac Scriptures,
Dictionary, CJrammar, and Legends, is a picture worth going to
Hants[)ort to see. He sits at his desk as straight as an arrow ; his
marvellous memory is still unimpaired ; and his remarkable energy
and al>ility to work are apparently as great as ever. For fifty years
he has kept a personal journal, and in it are recorded many racy
])assages on men and events in Nova Scotia during the past half cen-
tury. But the ordinary man who undertakes to read it is met by one
great drawback, — it is written in English, French, Latin, (Ireek,
Micmac, and shorthand, respectively. Dr. Rand devotes about ten
hours a day of his time to the preparation of the manuscript of his
Micmac-Knglish Dictionary for publication, which has been assumed
by the Dominion Government. When he tires of literary work, he
seeks recreation with the axe and wood-saw. " I learned to use the
axe," said the almost octogenarian, '" at the age when a certain pij)er's
son is said to have become proficient in the art. I would like to have
a race with Mr. Gladstone with the axe ; I think I could compete
with him as well at chopping as at Latin versifying."

Dr. Rand inherited his passion for versifying from his
mother. He published a volume containing about one hun-
dred " Modern Latin Hymns." These Latin hymns were
constructed, not according to ancient rules of prosody, but
according to the modern English methods of rhyme and
rhythm. Among the familiar hymns thus turned into Latin
are " Abide with me," " A mighty fortress is our God,"
" From Greenland's icy mountains, " Guide me, O Thou
great Jehovah," "Jesus, refuge of my soul," "Rock of
Ages, cleft for me," and many others. Frank Leslie's Sun-
day Magazine for December, 1885, published the Latin trans-

IXTKODrCTlOiV.

XXI

lation of the hymn "Rock of Ajjcs" of Mr. Ghidstoiio and
that of Dr. Rand, side by side. Speaking; of the circum-
stances under which his translation was mailc, Dr. Rand
said: "When I saw Mr. (Jhidstone's translation, I thou^dit a
better one could be made. He had omitted the word ' rock '
altogether ; and I thouj^ht he had poorly translated the line,
' Simply to thy cross I clin<,^' Several other lines were not
literally translated. So I made an attemi)t myself, and in
sendini^ Mr. (jladstone my translation, freely criticised his
own. He acknowledged my letter in a proverbial post-card,
which I finally deciphered as follows " : —

Dkar Sir, — I thank you for the kind terms used in your letter, and
I at once admit tliat your version of the " Rock of Ages " is more
exact than mine. Indeed, I can scarcely say that I aimeil at a literal
translation througiiout. The verse you quote is quite accurate, and
so, I iuu e little doubt, is the rest that you have seen.

Your faithful scrv't, W. E. Gu\ustone.

Aug. 22, '78.

Dr. Rand has been called the Elihu Burritt of Canada ; and
he well deserved the name. He possessed a marvellous
memory and wonderful linguistic power; he was a man of
remarkable energy and ability. The work which he accom-
plished was unique. The value of that which he has done in
the Micmac and Malisect languages will become more and
more apparent as the attention of philologists turns more
and more to the investigation of the aboriginal languages
of America. He has translated into Micmac almost the
entire Bible ; he has compiled a dictionary in that language
of more than forty thousand words, and he has, in addition,
furnished to the philologian a large amount of other valu-
able linguistic material. He was the discoverer of Glooscap,
that mythological character which I\Ir. Leland calls " the
most Aryan-like of any ever evolved from a savage mind ; "
and he has saved from oblivion the mythological lore of a
people that are losing with every generation their hold upon
ancient customs and manners.

XXII

INTRODUCTION.

II.

WORKS OF TIIK RICV. SILAS T. RAND.'

THK following' list shows that the forty years which Dr.
Rami spent as a missionary amonj^ the Indians were also
years of indefatigable industry as a lin^'iiist: —

A Sliort Statement of Facts rclatin;,' to tlif llistitiy, Manners, Customs,
I.anj^ua^ji', and Literature of tlie Miiiiiac '1 riic- of Indians, in Nova
Scotia and 1'. ]•',. Island. Halifax, N. S. I'rinted l)y James Mowcs
& Son. 1.S50. C<>/>it:s in />(>.< wss ton o/: J. H. Dunbar (Hloomlield,
N.J.). \V. Ilamcs (Iirool<lyn, N. Y), I'illinir, Harvard, UMIcsley.

Cisulc Ucelnswoi n A;,anudasic. [IIaiifa.\? 1.S50.J I.ilcral liwtfliidon :
God, His Word Told-al)out. Tins volume contains al.so the Ten
Commandments; a sliort sketch of Ilihle History; a Ciiristmas
hymn of four stanzas, beginninj; " Scsus, Acjinicsam," which with
the addition of two stanzas has been reprinted separately. Copies :
Karnes, I'iliini;, W'ellcsley.

The History of I'oor Sarah; a Pious Indian Woman. In Micmac.
Rules for ])ronunciation, three lines. Af^enudemocn ujit eule;;it
Sali, sabewit Elnui ebit. Klnuisimca. [Halifax.' 1850.] Copies:
Eames, I'illins, Welleslcy.

Hymn. [Four verses in English.] Translation into Micmac by S. T.
Rand. [ Four vcnses in Micmac] [Halifax? 1.S50?] Four stanzas,
in broken English, of a hymn beginninj,' '• In de dark wood, no
Indian niijh," followed by a Micmac translation. Copy: Wellesley.
Reprinted as follows: —

[Halifax, 1S5-]. In Micmac lantjuacjc, phonetic characters. Six stanzas,
bc^innint; " Njbuictuic encuidegwobjan," etc. Copies: Eames,
Pilling, Wellesley.

Psalm X.XIII. [Halifax, 185-?] Text in Micmac language, phonetic
characters. Six stanzas. Copies: Eames, Pilling, Wellesley.

' For a fuller description of the works of the Rev. Silas T. Rand, the reader
is referred to the followinp; bil)li()gra|)hies, which have been prepared by Mr.
J. C. Pilling, and pubhsiied by the IJureau of Kthnolngy, Washington, D. C. :
liibliography of the Algonquian Languages (1891 ) ; IJihliography of the Irocpioian
Languages (1SS8); Bibliography of the Eskimo Language (18S7); and Proof-
sheets of a bibliography of the languages of the North American Indians (1885).

/XTA'ODUCT/OX.

X.MII

Hymn. [Halifax, 1S5 ?], '" iristmas Iiymn of six stanzas, in Micmac
lan.niiaj^f, iiliiinctir cliaractiTs, iK'niiuiinif '• Sisiiis Ut gnicscain," ttr.,
and Micmac version of "Now 1 lay ni.' down lo Hlcip," one slaii/a,
in plionttic cliarai tcis. Co/>it\ : Maims, riliini;, Wrilisliy.

'I'lic (los'.icl according lo Saint .Mattlaw, in tin.- .Minnac lan;;uaj;c.
Printed for tlic use of the Micmac mission hy ilie iliitisli and Foreign
Ilil)le Sot ii'ty. Cliarlotti town : iirintiil by (i. '1'. Il.is/ard, i'^53.
'I'ext in plnnietic ciiaraclers. Cii/>ii.\- ; Amcrii an llilde So( iity,
lirit'sli and i'()rei;,'n liil)le Soci>.ty, ISritisli Museum, Karnes, I'illinj;,
J. II. 'rruml)':ll (Hartford, Conn.), Wciiesli'y.

I'ela ivisa-nnoodumumkawa tan tiii.'i <il<salvumanu'non wi'^str)wooli<\\'.
S.iso()!;oole Citstawit ootenlnk. .Mi'm'nnoAeestnilv. C'iu JHioktook
[Il.difax): iPei.;i'mia;:ea' ledakun-weekuj^'emkawa nioweomee. 1871,
'I'lie (lospel of M.itthew, in tlie Mii mac lan>;u.i,L;f, piiomtic cfiir.ic-
( rs. i'i>/>/i\f! Hritisli and KoreiKn llil)le Socitty, Hritisli Musi-nm,
Ounh.u-. liames. Ma.ssacluisetts Historical Society, Quebec Histofi-
cal History, rilling, J. C. Sliea (ini/ajjctli, N. J.), Tnrnbull, li.
K.uid (Cind)ridi;e, M.is.s.), 15ost(fn I'uliiic, Il.irvartI, WelLsky.

The (iosijcl of Saint John. Printed l)y W. Cumiabeil. Halifax, N. S,,
[1H54]. In Micmac lan;4uaj;e, phonetic characters. C(i/>ic>! : Karnes,
I'illini,', Hand, Welleslry.

VVuok;l;;nnoo(lain.'ikun tan tula SanCku. Megumowecslmk. Chebook-
took [H.dif.ix]: niefjrima;,'eri ledakun-weekut;t'mkawa moweome.
1872. The (losp'j! of John in the Micmac lany;ua,t;i'. Roman char.ic-
ters. Co/lies: British and Forei;,'n iJihle Society, Hritish Museum,
Karnes, Pilliny, Shea, Trumbull, Harvard, Wellesley.

Ferst rfdi//,j,'b«k in .Mikmak. Kompeild b.i ///e Rev. S. T. Rand, Mi(;onari
t« ///e Mikm.ik Indian/, N'f'va Skce^ia. Luiidon : Fred Pitman,
fonetik dep^', 20, Paternoster ro. (7/arlotv/l, Prins Kdwardz ciland.
Nor//; y\merika : Djordj T. Hazard, 1S54. Preis Sikspens.
Copii!t: I'^ames, Shea, Boston Public.

A First Readins^-Hook in tlie .Micmac Languai^e : compvisin;^ the Micmac
numerals, and the names of the different kinds of beasts, birds, fishes,
trees, &c., of the Maritime Provinces of Canada. Also, some of the
Indian names of places, and many familiar worils and phras •;,. trans-
lated literally into Knjj^lish. Halifax: Nova Scotia Printing; Com-
pany, 1S75. Text in Roman characters. O'/zV.v .• British .Museum,
Dunbar, Karnes, Massachusetts Historical Society, Pillini;, Trum-
bull, Wellesley.

[Vocabulary of the Micmac Lan<;u.age.] In Schoolcraft [II. K], Indian
Tribes, vol. 5, pp. 578-5(89, Philadelphia, 1S55. Contains about 250
words. Dated from Halifax, Dec. 10, 1853.

Milicete Numerals. In Schoolcraft (H. R.), Indian Tribes, vol. 5. pp.
690-691, Philadelphia, 1855. Dated from Halifax, Dec. 14, 1S53.

[Tlie Lord's Prayer in the Milicete LanguaiJte.] In Schoolcraft (H. R.),
Indian Tribes, vol. 5, p. 592, Philadelphia, 1855.

msmuummumt'i^ .-■.■. ■

XXIV

INTRODUCTION.

The Gospel akordiw^tu .f^nt L«k. In Mikmak. Printed for the Britic
and f^oren Beibel Soseieti, bei Kizak Pitman, i5a///, 1S56. Copies:
British and Foreign Bible Society, Congress, Eames, Pilling,
Trumbull.

The Gospd according to Luke. [Halifax; Nova Scotia Printing Com-
pany, 1874.1 Text in the iMicmac language, Roman characters.
Copies : Brii.sh Museum, Eames, Pilling, Trumbull, Wellcsley.

The Buk ov Djenesis. In Mikmak. Printed for ///e Britic and Foren
Beibel Stjseieti, bei Eizak Pitman, Ba///, 1S57. Copies: British
and Foreign Biljle Society, British Museum, Congress, Eames,
Pilling, Trumbull, Wellcsley.

The Buk ov S^niz. In Mikmak. Printed for the Brit/r and Foren
Beibel Sc'seieti, bei Eizak Pitman. Ba//;. 1S59. Copies: British
and Foreign Bible Society, British Museum, Eames, Pilling, Shea,
Truml)ull, Harvard, Wellcsley.

Trtn Tekcl(/k(Klidjik Api^stalfwidjik. The Akts ov the Aposelz. In
Mikmak. Printed for the Britic and Foren Beibel Syseieti, bei
Eizak Pitman, Ba///, 1863. Copies: American Bible Society,
British and Foreign Bible Society, British Museum, Eames, Pilling,
Trumbull, B. Rand, Harvard, Wellcsley.

The Ten Commandments, the Lord's Prayer, etc. In the Maliseet lan-
guage. Printed for the .Micmac Missionary Society, Halifax, Nova
Scotia, 1863. Text in tlie Maliseet language, phonetic characters,
some headings in English. Copies: Eames, Pilling, J. W. Powell
(Washington, D. C), Shea, TrumliuU, Yale, Wellcsley.

The Book of Exodus in Micmac. Halifax, Nova Scotia, 1870. Copies:
British and Foreign Bible Society, Eames, Pilling, Shea, Trumbull,
Harvard, Wellcsley.

The Gospel according to St. John in the Language of the Malliseet In-
dians of New Brunswick. London, 1870. Copies: British and
Foreign Bible Society, British Museum, Eames, Pilling, Powell,
Triibner, Trumbull.

[Terms of Relationship of the Micmac, and Etchemin or Malisete, col-
lected by Rev. S. T. Rand, Missionary, Hantsport, Nova Scotia.] In
Morgan (L. H.), Systems of Consanguinity and Affinity of the Hu-
man Family, pp. 293-3S2, lines 59-60, Washington, 1871.

Tracts in Micmac: No. i. Bread cast upon the Waters. No. 7.
T.^lekesuhsiitadiiks .' How are you to be saved? London Gospel
Tract Depot, Warwick Lane, Paternoster Row. [1872.] Copies:
Eames, Pilling, Shea, Wellcsley. Reprinted as follows: —

Talekesuhsutaduks? How are you to be saved ? [Halifax: Nova Scotia
Printing Company, November, i888. Copies: Eames, Pilling.

Tracts in Micmac : No. 2. Bread cast upon the Waters. No. 2,
" Wokumayaan."' " Be thou clean." London Gospel Tract Depot,
Warwick Lane, Paternoster Row. [1872.] Copies: Eames, Pilling,
Shea, Wcllesley. Reprinted as follows : —

- X'

INTRODUCTION.

XXV

" Wokuniavaan." " l^e tliou clean," [Halifax: Nova Scotia Printing
Company, November, iS88.] Ci^pics : Eames, I'illing, \Vullcsley.

Tracts in Micmac: No. 3, Bread cast upon tlie Waters No. 4,
" Uktuloouawoodeel ablivslistasl^n'il." " Tiiy sins are forgiven thee."
London Ciospel Tract Depot, Warwick Lane, Paternoster Row.
[1872.] Copies: Eames, Pilling, Sliea, Wellcsley. Reprinted as
follows : —

" UktCiloowawoodeel ablkslktaslgul." " Thy sins are forgiven thee."
[H;ilifa.\ : Nova Scotia Printing Company, November, 18S8.]
Cof>iiS : Eames, Pilling.

Tracts in Micmac: No. 4, liread cast upon the Waters. No. 8, W5n
teledaget ? Who is to blame ? London Gospel Tract Depot, War-
wick Lane, Paternoster Row. [1872.] Copies: Eames, Pilling,
Shea, Wellesley.

[Micmac Le.s.son-card, No. 3. Halifax, 1872.] The text is in the Micmac
language, Roman characters, and begi.^s " Nee-dap, pis-kwa, base."
Copies: IMUhig.

A Short Account of the Lord's Wor.'c among the .\. cmac Indians. By
S. T. Rand, Hantsport, N. S. With some reasons for his seceding
from the Baptist denomination. Halifax, N. S. I'rmtod by William
Macnab, 1873. Copies- Eames, Pilling, B. Rand, Wellesley.

The Gospel according to Mark. [Halifax, Nova Scotir Printing Com-
pany, 1874.] Copies: Eames, Pilling, Trumbull, Wellesley.

The Episde of I^aul to the Romans. [Willi the other Epistles of the
New Testament and the Book of Revelation.] [Halifax: Nova
Scotia Printing Company, 1S74.] Copies: British Museum, Eames,
Pilling Trumbull, Wellesley.

The Gospels of ^Lltthew, Mark, and Luke, with the Epistles and Reve-
lation : translated from the Greek into Micmac, the language of the
aborigines of Nova Scotia, New Brunswick, and P. E. Island. By
Silas Tertius Rand. Halifax: Nova Scotia Printing Company,
1875. Copies: British .Museum, Harvard, Eames

A Specimen of the Micmac Dictionary being prepared at tiie Expense of
the Dominion Government of Canada. I?y Silas T. Rand, of Hants-
port, Nova Scotia, Missionary to the .Micmac Indians of the Maritime
Provmces. [Hahfax.? 1885.] r,>//V,r; Eam-s, Pilling, Wellesley.

The Micmac Language. In Canadian Science .Monthly, nos. lo-ii, pp.
142-146, Kentville, N. S., Oct.-Nov., 1885. A general discussion,
including a few polysynthetic words.

The Micmac Indians. In Our Forest Children, vol. 2, no. 4, pp. 10-12.
Shingwauk Home, Sault Ste. Marie, Ontario, 1888. Grammatic
Remarks, p. 11. — \'ocabulary, about So words and sentences, Mic-
mac and English, pp. 11-12.

Dictionary of the Language of the Micmac Indians, in Nova Scotia, New
Brunswick, Prince Edward Island, Cape Breton, and Newfoundland.
[English-Micmac] By Rev. Silas Tertius Rand, D.D., LL.D.

XXVI

I.YTRODUCTION.

Halifax, N. S.: Nova Scotia Printing Company, iSSS. Copies:
Ikiruau of Etlinology, Kamcs, Pillint;;, Hoston Atliena'um, Boston
Public, Harvard, WcUcsky. Address for copies, Mr. Porter, Hants-
port, N. S.

Promissioncs Domini Xostri Jcsu Chr'sti factae B. Marg. m. Alaoque.
Kulooswokunul cloowcdiuiiasooileard wcjeteloocmkul Sasoo ("loole
ootenink, oochit wcjeoollhoot Mal;^alet Male Alakok, oochit ncgoola
tanik cle^asoollijik Ncgiim wasoiiawa' ookwunilanioonk. [Dayton,
Ohio: Pliilip A. Kemper, iSHS.] A small card, 3 by 5 inches in size,
headed as above, and containing twelve " Promises of our Lord to
blessed Margaret Mary," translated into Micmac by Silas T. Rand.
Copies: Karnes, Pilling, Wellesley.

The Only Place of Safety. Tan tct pasiik ahk oolisutogun. [Halifa.x :
Nova Scotia Printing Company, November, 188S.] Copies: Kamcs,
Pilling.

Hymni recentes latini, translationes ct originales per Siliim Tertiur
Randium, D.D, LL.D. Hantsportus, Nova' Scotiae. Halifa.x, N. S
1SS6. Copies: Harvard.

MANUSCRIPTS.

Micmac Catechism. Manuscript, 38 pp. 16°. Written in a small blank
book, lal)elled "Translations from [the Roman Catholic] Indian
Prayer-bock — Micmac. S. T. Rand, Charlottctown."

Micmac Ollendorff. Manuscrij)t, 86 pp. folio. Title-page reads "Ollen-
dorff's Short Method of Teaching Micmac." Hawksbury, 1S66.
In the possession of Wellesley College

The Decalogue as read from the [Roman Catholic] Indian Prayer-book
by Peter [Christmas] at Kscisogunic, June 12, 1852. Manuscript,
4 pp. 16^, apparently incomplete. This is written in the same blank
book as the Catechism described above.

Sentences in Micmac. Kl^nu wcgadigrin. Manuscript, pp. 1-63, 16°.
In possession of Mr. J. C. Pilhng. Washington, D. C.

List of Micmac words i-esemliling Greek, Heuicw, Latin, etc. Manu-
script, 34 11. 16". in a blank book, leather cover. This is a collection
of al)Out 300 words. A portion of this list, comprising words which
Dr. Rand considered his best specimens, is repeated in a quarto
volume of manuscript, now in possession of Wellesley College.

Legends of the Micmac Indians, and Kxtracts from the Micmac Prayer-
book, with interlinear translations into English by Silas T. Rand.
Manuscript: title verso blank, i 1.. introduction, 2 11., text, 191 11. 4°.
Legends in Micmac and English, (j6 11.

Notes explanatory on the Micmac Translation of the Psalms. Referring
principally to the cases in which the Micmac version differs from the
English. Written about the year 1855. By Silas T. Rand. Hants-
port, Nova Scotia. Manuscript: a copy; 94 unnumbered 11. 4°. In
possession of Wellesley College.

.te.

INTRODUCTION.

XXVI 1

Dictionary of tlie Language of tlie Micmac Indians. [.Micmac-Englisli.]
4 vols 4°. (Icneral planof tiie woriv : i. To record as many Micmac
words as possible. 2. To give their English equivalents correctly.
3. To give the principal parts of the verbs. 4. To write the words
phonetically. 5, In posse.ssion of the Canadian Government.

[Manuscripts relating to the Micmac language.] i volume. 4^. It con-
tains : I. A lecture on the Micmac and Malisect languages, pp. 1-63.
2. Sketch of Micmac grammar, by Irwin, pp. 87-134. 3. Conju-
gation of Micmac verbs, 135-245. 4. .Maliseet words, 253-346.
5. Names of places, 373-404. 6. List of particles in Micmac,
405-520. 7. .Subjunctive and potential moods, 521. In possession
of Wellesley College.

E.xtracts from the Micmac Hieroglyphic Prayer-book, traiislated into
Roman letters, with some of tlie words in English. [1S7-.'] Manu-
script, pp. i-ii, 16 bis-25, 25 bis-38, 4044, 46-So, 4°. In posses-
sion of Mr. Wilberforce Eames, 15rool lyn, N. Y.

[The Small Catechism in Micmac Hieroglyphs, with the corresponding
Micmac words in Koman characters, lyr-.'] Manuscript, 12 un-
numbered pages, 4°. In possession of Mr. Wilberforce Eames,
Brooklyn, N."y.

[Tracts and Hymns in the Micmac Language.] Manuscript, pp. 1-340,
4°, bound. In possession of Wellesley College.

Psalms in Micmac and in .Maliseet, arranged so as to be sung. Manu-
script, pp. 1-17, sm. 4°.

[Hymns in Micmac and Latin.] i volume, 4°, pp. 1-196. In posses-
sion of Wellesley College.

[Manuscripts in the .Maliseet and -Micmac Languages,] About 400 pp.,
mostly unnumbered, 4'^, bound. In possession of Wellesley
College.

A Lecture delivered before several literr.ry institutions in Nova Scotia,
on the Peculiarities of the Micmac and Maliseet Tongues. 52 pp.
4°. " A fair copy is bound up in a volume now in the hands of Mr.
Lucius L. Hubbard, of Boston, Mass." — R.^nd.

A Vocabulary of Maliseet Words. About 500 unnumbered 11., 4",
bound. In possession of Wellesley College.

[Hymns in .Maliseet Language.] .Manu.scripts : i. Psaln: 50. 2. Psalm
51. 3. Abide with me, fast falls the eventide. 4. I 'm going home
to die no more.

[Maliseet, Ollendorff, and other Translations.] pp. 1-418, 4°, bound.
In possessio.i of Wellesley College.

[Manu.scrijits treating principally of the Maliseet language.] About 400
pp. 4°, bound. This volume contains : i. The first drauglit of the
tract in Maliseet, entitled "The Ten Commandments," etc. 2. A
grammar of the MalLseet language. 3. Translation of the 34th
Psalm. 4. A hymn in Penobscot, and one in Maliseet. 5. A vc
cabulary of the Maliseet language. In possession of Wellesley
College.

XXVlll

INTRODUCTION.

[Manuscripts in the Maliseet and otiier languages.] 275 pp. 4°, bound.
This volume contains: Bible history in the Maliseet dialect, pp.
1-141. Sketches of a grammar of the Maliseet language, pp. 142-
224. The numerals in tiie dialect of the I'enobscot Indians, p. 225.
The numerals of the St. Francis Indians, p. 231. Hymns, etc., 239-
272. In possession of VVellesley.

List of Indian Names of Places in P. E. Island, obtained Novemb r,
1S88, by the aid of Peter Jim. Manuscript, pp. 207-210 of a large
folio account book, in possession of Wellesley College.

Grammar of the Micmac Language, by Silas T. Hand. Hantsport,
N. S. pp. 132, 12°, bound. Manuscript in possession of VVelles-
ley College.

Report of the Micmac Mission for 1892. Also a supplement containing
my reasons for leaving the Baptists and uniting with the "so-called"
Plymouth Brethren, by S. T. Rand, Missionary to the Micmac In-
dians, pp. 229, 4°, unbound. Manuscript in possession of Welles-
ley College.

Dreams and Visions and Religion in Common Life. By Silas Tertius
Rand, Missionary to the Micmacs. Manuscript, pp. 241, 4°, un-
bound. In possession of Wellesley College.

A Lecture on Psalm XXIII. pp. 43, 4°, unbound. In possession of
Wellesley College.

An Ancient Icelandic Tale. Translated from the Latin. Manuscript,
pp. 50, unbound. In possession of Wellesley College.

[Micmac Lesson Book.] pp. 370, 4°, bound. No titlepage. Contains
also a list of Maliseet words, pp. 21, unnumbered. Wellesley.

About a thousand Esquimaux words, gathered from tlie New Testament
in that language, pp. 35, 4°. In possession of Wellesley College.

Mohawk Vocabulary. By Silas T. Rand. [1876.] 200 pp. folio, bound.
In possession of Wellesley College.

No. 2. Mohawk Vocabulary. By Silas T. Rand. [1876.] 175 pp. 4°,
bound. It b^'ars the date " Tuscarora, Aug. 8, 1876." In possession
of Wellesley College.

Mohawk Words, and a translation of the ninth and eleventh chapters of
Luke, and of the ninth chapter of Mark. Mohawk and English in
parallel columns, with a few .sentences in Mohawk and English.
1S76. About 125 pp. 4°, bound. In the possession of Wellesley
College.

[Manuscripts pertaining to the Mohawk Language], pp. 210, folio,
bound. Contains: i. Translation into Mohawk of first, sixth, and
eleventh chapters of John ; of Matthew sixth (by Joab Martin) ; Luke
fifteenth (.Marceaux, N. O.) and of the Ten Commandments. 2. List
of Mohawk words. 3. Prayer-book. 4. Micmac characters. In
the possession of Wellesley College.

The Gospel of Mark. Capt. Brant's Mohawk translation. [1876.]
Manuscript, 48 pp. 4°, unbound. It extends only to the fourteenth

J !

INTRODUCTION. ^xix

verse of the third chapter. A discontinuous interlinear transla-
t>on runs throughout. The interlinear translation is mostly by Mr

[Mohawk, Senc-ca and Tuscarora words. ,877.] 4°, unbound,
r^umeras m Mohawk, Tuscarora, Cayugan, Seneca, and Oneidah

Diary of the Rev. S.T. Rand. Miss Hattie Rand, Hantsport, N S This
d.ary and nun^erous copies of Dr. Rand's printed works are in posses
sion of Miss Hattie Rand, Hantsport, N. S.

XXX

INTRODUCTION.

III.

THE MANNERS, CUSTOMS, LANGUAGE, AND LITERA-
TURE OF THE MICMAC INDIANS.

In November, 1849, Dr. Rand delivered two lectures on
the History, Manners, Customs, Language, and Literature
of the Micmac Tribe of Indians in Nova Scotia and Prince
Edward Island. These lectures were afterwards published
in pamphlet form.^ A few of the facts therein presented
may be of interest to the reader.

After calling attention to the fact that all Indians of North
America, except the Esquimaux, strikingly resemble each
other in their features, languages, manners, and customs, all
of which arc modified by the approach of civilization. Dr.
Rand thus describes the condition of the tribe of Micmacs:
Formerly they dressed in skins, painted their bodies, and
adorned themselves with shells and feathers ; they used bows
and arrows, stone axes and stone arrowheads ; they lived
chiefly by hunting and fishing, and delighted in war. They
have now very extensively changed not only the material of
wliich their clothing is made, but also the fashion, adopting
that of their white neighbors. They now make baskets,
buckets, and barrels. In some places they till the land on a
very limited scale, and dwell in houses. Drunkenness is fear-
fully prevalent among them, though not so much of late years
as formerly, and other vices resulting from the proximity of
what we proudly call "civilization." But while we mourn
over some of these changes, there are others which call for
different emotions. There are no wars with bordering tribes.

1 This p.iniphlet is entitled " A Short Statement of Facts relating to the
History, Manners, Customs, Language, and Literature of the Micmac Tribe of
Indians, in Nova Scotia and P. E. Island." Halifax, 1850.

;. and

30WS

lived
They
alof
pting
xskcts,
on a
fear-
years
ity of
mourn
all for
tribes.

to the
Tribe of

IXTRODUCTION.

XXXI

No ambitious chieftain gains immortal fame by pursuing for
months his enemy, waylaying and killing him. The Micmac
chief does not reckon among his sakainoundd (regalia) the
scalps of his slaughtered foes ; and there arc no torturings
and burnings of prisoners. Chiefs are, however, duly elected.
The Indians assemble, on such occasions, to give their votes;
and any one who knows an}' just cause why the candidate
should not be elected is at liberty to state it. Councils, too,
arc liekl, to which ten different tribes, extending from Cape
Breton to Western Canada, send their delegates ; and they
seem to consider the affair as important as it ever was. The
mystic dances, too, of the ancient Indians are not wholly
omitted. Part of the ceremonies of their great annual reli-
gious festival of St. Ann's day consists of the wignballimk and
ncskoinvadijik, the feast and m}-stic dance of the sakaxvac/i/cik,
the Indians of olden times. At the proper time a chief comes
out of a camp, sings a singular tune, dances a singular step,
and is responded to by a singular grunt from the assembled
crowd. They assert that during the ceremony the body of
the dancer is impervious to a musket-ball ; but woe betide
the audacious wight who might venture on the experiment of
attempting to shoot him !

The wedding ceremony, which consists mainly of the feast,
is exceedingly simple. The old people have the disposing
of their daughters. If the young man's suit is favorably re-
ceived, the father of the girl thus addresses him, as he enters
the " camp," Kiitakiiinugual n'tlusuk (" Come up to the back
part of the camp, my son-in-law"). This settles the matter.
A feast is then prepared; all the neighbors are invited; they
eat, drink, and dance; then, after having engaged in various
sports, they finally disperse. The young man then takes his
bride home with him. They now, of course, call in the aid
of the ceremonies of the Catholic Church.

The wigwam is a curious structure. No little skill is dis-
played in its erection. The frame is first raised and fexstened.
The rows of bark are carefully put on. In the winter it is

'* ?sr . '''Wr^-!y^wrr".\ -i

r •p-^'i»_-iJ3Ei *

XXXII

INTRODUCTION.

lined in the inside with spruce boughs, and a thick coating of
the same material put on the outside, to prevent the cold
winds from entering. Boughs are neatly spread down inside
the camp, forming an admirable substitute for carpets, cush-
ions, and beds ; and the doorway in winter is also partly
closed with them, placed so as to spring back and forth as
you pass and repass. A piece of a blanket hangs over the
doorway. Every post of the wigwam, every bar, every fast-
ening, every tier of bark, and every appendage, whetlier for
ornament or use, has a name, and all the dilVcrent portions
of the one room their appropriate designations and uses.
The fire occupies the centre. On each side is the kantigwoin.
There sit, on the one side of the fire, the master and mistress ;
and on the other the old people, when there are old people
in the family, and the young women when there are young
women and no old people. The wife has her place next the
door, and by her side sits her lord. You will never sec a
woman sitting above her husband ; for towards the back part
of the camp, the kutakunink, is ///. This is the place of
honor. To this place visitors and strangers, when received
with a cordial welcome, are invited to come. Kntakninagnal,
npc/telasc (" Come up towards the back part of the wigwam "),
they say to him.

The children are taught to respect their parents. ]\Tany a
white family might take a lesson from them in this respect.
The rod is applied unsparingly, to tame their rebellious
spirits and teach them good manners. Thc)' do not speak
disrespectfully of their parents. The ordinary word for being
drunk (kathtrt) a child will not use when stating that his
father or mother is in that state ; but he says xvclopskcct, a
much softer term, though it is not easy to express the differ-
ence in English. They do not pass between their parents
and the fire, unless there are old people or strangers on the
opposite side.

The inmates of a camp have their appropriate postures as
well as places. The men sit cross-legged, like the Orientals.

liWTNODUCTION.

XXXlll

").

IV a

his

fcr-
nts
the

as
lals.

The women sit with their feet twisted round to one side, one
under the other. The younger children sit with their feet
extended in front. To each of these postures an appropriate
word is applied: the first is c/iciiiiinnbasi (" I sit down man-
fashion"), that is, cross-leg<^ed ; the second is nimskuliiqiina-
base ( " I sit down with my legs twisted around ") ; the
third is sokivodabasc (" I sit with my feet extended ").

When a stranger, even a neighbor, comes into the wigwam
of another, if it be in the daytime, he steps in and salutes
them. Kwa is the usual word of salutation, resembling both
in sound and signification the Greek salutation ^at/je (hail) !
Should it be in the night or evening, this is uttered while
standing outside. In that case the response is, Kiva ivcnin
/^r/ ("Who art thou ")? You give your name; and if they
know you, and are glad to see you, you are invited in at once.
If they either know you not, or care not for you, they again
ask, Kogwa paxvotumiin ("What is your wish ")? You must
then, of course, do your errand, and go about your business.
When you enter in the daytime, you will not go and sit down
in the highest room or the most honorable seat, — that is to
say, if you are a well-bred Indian, you will not; but you will
make a pause at the lowest place, the place next the door.
The master of the camp will then say to you, Ufchclase
(" Come up higher "). As soon as the visitor is seated, the
head man of the camp deliberately fills his pipe, lights it,
draws a few whifTs, and then hands it to the other; if there
be several, they pass it round. Conversation goes forward ;
all the new and strange things arc inquired after and related,
and the greatest respect is mutually shown. When the busi-
ness of eating is going forward, all who are in the wigwam
assist; to withdraw during the process of cooking would be
rudeness. It would be a most disreputable tiling not to invite
a stranger to partake ; it would be a grievous offence for him
to refuse.

The women are still accounted as inferiors. They maintain
a respectful reserve in their words when their husbands are

XXXIV

INTRODUCTIO!^.

present. " When Indian make bargain, squaw never speakum,"
— thus was a merchant's lady once coolly but pointedly re-
proved by an intli^t^nant son of the forest when she objected
to her husband's ^n'ving him his full price for his feathers.
The Indian woman never walks before her husband when
they travel. The men at table are helped first. When one
comes into your house for a cup of water, he drinks first him-
self, and hands it next to the other man, and last of all to the
woman.

The langua;^fe of the Indians is very remarkable. One
would think it must be exceedingly barren, limited in inflec-
tion, and crude ; but just the reverse is the fact, — it is
copious, flexible, and expressive. Its declension of nouns
and conjugation of verbs are as regular as the Greek, and
twenty times as copious. The full conjugation of one Alicmac
verb would fill quite a large volume; in its construction and
idiom it differs widely from the English. This is why an
Indian usually speaks such wretched English ; he thinks
in his own tongue, and speaks in ours, following the natural
order of his own arrangement. He commits such blunders
as the following: " Five hundred musquash killum my father,"
" Long time ago, when first Indians makum God ; " for " l\Ty
father killed five hundred muskrats," and " When God first
made the Indians." There arc fewer elementary sounds in
Micmac than in English. They have no /-, and Xio f ox v ;
instead of r they say /, in such foreign words as they adopt.
And droll enough work they sometimes make in translating
back and forth from one language to the other, and in at-
tempting not to confound r and / while speaking English.
The name of an hour is in Micmac the same as that of an
owl (kookoogncs) , because when they first attempted to say
it, they had to say onl, and then they could think of the
name of that nocturnal bird in their own tongue more readily
than they could recall a foreign term.

There is no article in Micmac. The verb " to be " is irregu-
lar, and is never used for the purpose of connecting a subject

INTRODUCTlOiV.

XXXV

ily

with its predicate. They have a chial number like the Greek.
They express the different persons and numbers by the ter-
mination of the verb, and Hke the Greek have a great number
of tenses. There are also some words in the hui^uaLje whieh
resemble Greek. The Micmac word Ellcnu, an Intlian, is
not very different from "E\\i;i', a Greek. FJlenK rsit (" lie
speaks Micmac ") is strikingly like the Creek kWijin^ti (" He
speaks Greek "). Ikit in other respects the language resembles
the Hebrew, especially in the suffixes b)' which the pronouns
are connected in the accusative case with the verb. There
are words evidently derived from the English and French;
but xvi'//ac{" I am well ") appears in so many compounds, and
occurs in some form so constantly, as to make the impression
that it is original Micmac.

The following are the personal pronouns : Ncf/i, I ; hr/,
thou ; ncj^xinii, he and she ; uccticn, we ; kccmi, we ; ucgumoit,
the\'. The gender is not distinguished either in the singular
or plural of the pronouns. Tiie distinction between nccnen
and kecun is this : The former signifies he and I ; the latter,
you and I. This distinction obtains in all the Indian dialects,
so far as I have been able to learn. And it extends through
the declension of nouns, adjectives, and pronouns, and the
conjugation of verbs.

Thev have various methods of marking the sex of animals :
sometimes by different words, — ?.?> c/ucuuin, a man, abit, a
woman ; sometimes by an additional word, — as kccgullcegiiech
nabaoo, a cock, kccgnllccgucch csqnaoo, a hen. The word
"squaw" is not Micmac ; but a termination, somewhat resem-
bling it, is added to epithets denoting rank, station, or em-
ployment, to distinguish the female sex. — thus, clccgazvit, a
king; elecgawcsqii, a queen ; sakumoii, a chief; sakiiutasqii,
a chief's wife. But as neither adjectives, verbs, nor pronouns
are varied to denote the gender of animals, there is no neces-
sity for the distinction of masculine and feminine for any
grammatical purpose ; but there is a broad distinction between
things which have life and those which arc inanimate. This

XXXVl

LWTKOnUCTlOX,

rcnjuircs the distinction of the animate ami inanimate [gentler.
The plural of these two classes of wonls is formed in a very
different manner, k being the termination of the aiiimate, and
/of the inanimate: f//tr///////, a man ; clu'c)iHuiooh,\WQ\\\ soon, a
cranberry; soonn!, cranberries. The atljcLtivcs, pronouns,
and verbs are varied to agree in gender : kaloosit ' abit, a
pretty woman ; kaloosit c/ucniim, a pretty man ; but ka/iilk
koondoH, a pretty stone; ucmcck c/ucniiiu, 1 see a man;
mmcdn koondoit, I sec a stone. By varying the termination
of nouns, they distinguish the nominative, genitive, dative,
accusative, and vocative cases; this makes the same num-
ber as in Greek. Ikit they are in advance of that elegant
language, they have two more terminations, — one denoting
that the person or thing spoken of is absent; and the other
that the word ends the sentence. The former may be called
the case abscntivc, and the other the case terminative. It is
proper to state that these additional endings may be added
to each of the real cases.

The following are the numerals : na-ookt, one ; tah-boo,
two; sccst, three; na-oo, four; nahii, five; nssookiim, six;
clooiggHunuk, seven; oo^ttinmoolcJiht, eight; pcskoonahditk,
nine ; in'tiln, ten.

The Indian can count as far as he pleases. The prevalent
notion that he can count only ten is an error. It is true he
enumerates by tens, as all other nations do, and often, like
the rest of mankind, uses his fiurjcrs in counting; and he
happens to have, as others have, just that number of these
convenient appendages.

An Indian once boasted to me of the variety of his lan-
guage, and affirmed that he had at least two words for every
idea. " Always, everything, two ways me spcakum," said he.
But this is not literally true; though I will not affirm that it
is not as correct as some of the general rules we meet with in
other languages.

The verb is emphatically the word in Micmac. Whole
1 Compare kaloosit with the Greek koAJs, pretty.

IXTRODUCTlOiV,

XXXVll

111

sentences, and lonj^j ones too, occur constantly, foiiiiccl
wholly of verbs. All atljcclivcs of the aniuMlc [^'cndcr arc-
real verbs, am! arc conju^Mled tluuiij^h mood and tense,
person and nuuiber. There beiny no such thinj; as the
verb ' "to be " used as a copula, the copula is in the atljectivc
itself. I know not how to distinj^uish the two ideas, a s^ood
man, and the man is «,'ood. I'A'en the numerals are verbs,
and an)' noun can assume the form and nature of a verb
without any difficulty.

They have the indicative, ini[)erati\c, subjunctive, poten-
tial, and infinitive moods, and in the indicative the forms of
L'k.'\-en tenses. They have the acti\'e, passive, and luidiUc
voices; and by a slight variation of the termination they add
to, take from, and var>- the original idea almost endlessly.

The present, imperfect, and future are the principal tenses.
They use also an au.xiliary verb for the rest.

A curious feature of the language is the double negative,
which reminds one of the double negative st)metimes used in
Greek. In IMicmac it extends to nouns ami adjectives as
well as to verbs. It doubles the labor of learning the conju-
gation, as it consists in placing a negative before the word,
and then changing the termination : thus, Jl'it/ifssazve, I wit-
ness ; Jl/oo lai/ucssazvL', I do not witness ; J/oo xvititcssaivik'w,
He docs not witness.

They have a remarkable facilit)- for compounding words.
Here again there is a resemblance to the Greek. The
long words of the Indians arc compounds, which, though
they lengthen words, shorten speech, and render it more
effective. These seem to be common to all the Indian dia-
lects. Cotton Mather said they looked as though they had
been growing ever since the confusion of Babel, — a remark
which perhaps contains as much philosophical truth as it
docs wit. The following specimen occurs in their Prayer-

' They have a verb corresponding to the verb " to be," but it always denotes
phce : ayiim, I am here ; aik zvi^womk, he is there in the wigwam.

xxxvin

INTRODUCTION.

book, in the account of tlic Last Supp'^r ; it contains four-
teen syllables, when spelled with English letters, and can be
made, without much exaggeration, to occupy forty characters :
NajdejemoinvccoolowgHoddullaoltccdissitneci^a (" They were
going to eat supper together"), — in the Prayer-book, written
in symbols, one small character represents this formidable
word. Tt is compounded of several by taking their principal
parts and dovetailing them into one. The roots are tied to-
gether, and they become one long tree.

Some people arc astonished to hear us speak of the gram-
mar of the ]\Iicmacs. They did not suppose these people
had any such thing, or that they ever troubled themselves
about " Orthography, Etymology, and Syntax." Nor do they.
They are like the man who, beginning to learn late in life,
expressed his astonishment on ascertaining that he had been
speaking in prose all his life without knowing it. Grammar
is the " art of speaking and writing a language correctly."
But what is it to speak or write correctly? Is it not just this,
" to speak and write like those who understand and speak
the language best"? Were the English language spoken
nowhere but in Devonshire, then all the rules of English
grammar would have to be constructed in accordance with
that fact. The way in which words are pronoimccd in that
place would be the correct mode of pronunciation. Their
manner of constructing sentences would form our rules of
syntax. So of any other language or any other place.
Now the best usage of Micmac is the only usage which pre-
vails. Although they have neither grammars nor lexicons
in use among them, yet they have higher authority, — one on
which these, wherever they exist, are based, the Micmac itsus
loqucndi, — the authority of the best usage. It is interest-
ing to hear them appeal to this authority. " They don't
say it so," you will be told when you mispronounce a word
or construct a sentence improperly ; or, N'ct na (" That is it "),
Tclekcliisiiltijik ("That is the way they speak"), when you
succeed in expressing yourself correctly. Some diversity, it

INTRODUCTION.

XXXIX

is true, exists in the language as spoken in different places.
It extends merely to the use and pronunciation of a few words.
The Indians of Cape Breton amuse themselves occasionally
at the expense of the Nova Scotians, and are themselves
laughed about in turn by the latter party for their improper
or uncouth utterances ; and the Indians on Prince Edward
Island and at Miramichi are as susceptible of the ludicrous
as their brethren, and as conscious of their own superiority.

What can be meant, it may be asked, b}' the literature
of the Micmacs? We have been in the habit of looking upon
them as miserable, ignorant, stupid-looking bei.igs. We have
been aware that there have never been, to any extent, schools
established among them, and that no effort, except on the
smallest scale, has been made by the whites to teach them.
We have treated them almost as though they had no rights, and
as if it were somewhat doubtful whether they even have souls.
Now have they a literature? By what effort of imagination
can it be made out? Trul)' the term must be taken with
some restriction in its meaning. They possess, however,
some knowledge of the arts and sciences. They have a book
which they read. Some of them can write both English
and Micmac in n very fair hand. Some of them have a
knowledge of aritn.'ictic. An instance has occurred in
Prince Edwa -d Isiaid of an Indian who prided himself on
being able to idd up the longest and most complicated sums
as rapidly as the most expert accountant. They are in the
constant habii uf corresponding among tli ."- ' ' -es by letter.
I have obtained a couple of letters written b}- an Indian who
has been several )-cars at Quebec, — rme addressed to his
father, and the other to the chief in Cape Breton, — and the
handwriting would be no discredit to anxbody. The method
of writing and spelling ii curious; tlic letters for the most
part resemble the I*lngu.':h but arc mounded like the French.
Their book is written in pf'cuiiar char ic':ers ; they have
nothing in Roman print. M'>st of them are acquainted with
the contents of this book, bu few. hc.vever, can read it cor-

)»itii mfH\amti»mti%fiu,

INTRODUCTION.

rcctly. Copies of it arc multiplied indefinitely by tran-
scribing. And it embraces important matter. It enters into
some of the most elevated regions of knowledge and thought.
I cannot approve of it as a whole. It states things which are
false in fact, and ruinous in tendency ; but it also states much
that is truth, and truth of the most momentous import. It
is their Prayer-book. It contains condensed extracts from
the historical portions of the Bible; a catechism of religion;
psalms and hymns and prayers. The contents are early
instilled into their memories. The children are taught by
their parents ; and many a Protestant family might take a
lesson from them in this respect.

But they are also versed in other subjects. They have
studied botany from Nature's volume. They know the names
of all the trees and shrubs and useful plants and roots in
their country. They have studied their natures, habits, and
uses. They have killed, dissected, and examined all the
animals of North America, from the nestngcpcgajit to the
guhvakcIiccJt (from the buffalo to the mouse). They have
in like manner examined the birds and the fish. They are
therefore somewhat acquainted with natural history.

The Indian has studied geography, — not, however, that of
Europe, Asia, and Africa; but he knows all about America.
And most especially does the Micmac know about Nova Scotia
and the places adjacent. Show him a map of these places,
and explain to him that it is " a picture of the country," and
although it may be the first time he has ever seen a map, he
can go round i*:, and point out the different places with the
utmost care. He is acquainted with every spot; he is in
the habit of making rude drawings of places for the direction
of others. One party can thus inform another at what spot
in the woods they are to be found. At the place where they
turn off the main road a piece of bark is left, with the con-
templated route sketched upon it. The party following
examine the liiskiin, as they term it, when they come up,
and then follow on without any difficulty.

t;:

INTRO D UCTION.

An Indian is a first-rate hand to give you direction,
respecting your road. lie marks it out for you on the
ground, and you cannot have a better guide, especially
through the woods. When roads were fewer and more
difficult in Nova Scotia than they are now, the Indian's aid
was frequently called into requisition. And "Here," said
the tr-.vny guide who was years ago directing a party in their
travel from Nictaux to Liverpool in the winter, - " here, just
half-way." When the road was afterwards measured, it was
found that the Indian was correct. Arriving at another spot
he mformed them that the preceding winter he had killed
a moose at that place. Digging down through the deep
snow, he immediately showed them the horns.

They have some knowledge of astronomy. They have
watched the stars during their night excursions, or while
laymg wait for game. They know that the North Star does
not move, and call it okwotunngnwa knlokuwcch (the North
Star ). They have observed that the circumpolar stars never
set. They call the Great Bear, Much (the Bear), and they
have names for several other constellations. The morning
star is ui'adalmm, and the seven stars ejnlkuck. And " What
do you call that?" asked a venerable old lady a short time
ago, who, with her husband, the head chief of Cape Breton,
was giving me a lecture on astronomy, on Nature's celestial
globe, through the apertures of the wigwam. She was point-
ing to the Milky Way. " Oh, we call it the Milky Way
the milky road," said I. To my surprise she gave it the'
same name in Micmac.

Besides these branches of knowledge they have among
them historical facts, as already intimated, and facts mingled
with fable, and fables apparently without any mixture of
facts, treasured up carefully in their memories, and handed
down from generation to generation. These singular talcs
display some talent in their composition, and many of them,
all things considered, are exceedingly interesting, as the
genuine compositions of a primitive race, just as the wildest

dUMHM

^-^^

xlii

INTRODUCTION,

or most ridiculous talcs of the nursery (some of which, by
the by, the)' very much resemble), such as Sinbad the Sailor,
Beauty and the Beast, Jack the Giant-killer, or Cinderella
and the Glass Slipper would be, could we but be certain
that they were the genuine compositions of the ancient
Britons, in the days preceding the Roman Conquest, when
our forefathers were barbarians. And viewed in a similar
light, why should not the traditionary romances of the
Micmacs be , ithy of attention? They are, no doubt,
genuine. They " ' Jiavc been composed by Indians, and
many of them by Indians of a former generation. Some of
them are composed wrch great regularity. One event springs
out of another, and the story goes on with a wildness of
imagination about magicians and giants and transforma-
tions and love and war and murder that might almost
rival the metamorphoses of Ovid, or the talcs of the ancient
Scandinavians. Cliildren exposed or lost by their parents,
are miraculously preserved. They grow up suddenly to
manhood, and are endowed with superhuman powers; they
become the avengers of the guilty, and the protectors of the
good. They drive up the moose and the caribou to their
camps, and slaughter them at their leisure. The elements
are under their control: they can raise the wind, conjure
up storms or disperse them, make it hot or cold, wet or
dry, as they please. They can multiply the smallest amount
of food indefinitely, evade the subtlety and rage of their
enemies, kill them miraculously, and raise their slaughtered
friends to life. Huge serpents are occasionally introduced
as big as mountains. A monstrous bird called the htlloo,
the same possibly as the fabled condor, often makes its
appearance. It is a powerful friend or terrible enemy to the
Indians: when the former, it saves them from all sorts of
troubles, and furnishes them with every good ; when the
latter, their condition is sad indeed.

Now, all these facts relate to the question of the intellectual
capacity of the Indians, the degree of knowledge existing

INTRODUCTIOX.

xliii

among them; and the possibih'iy of elevating them in the
scale of Iiumanity. If such be their degree of mental im-
provement with all their disadvantages, what might they not
become were the proper opportunity afforded?

The various tribes of North America seem to have
differed but little from each other in their ideas of religion
when they became known to the Europeans. With scarcely
an exception they were without images. They believed in a
Supreme Power, a Great Spirit, the author of good, and also
in an evil spirit, the author of evil. The latter is said to have
been their principal object of worship. The Indians of
Canada call the Great Spirit Manitu, or Menedu, — different
tribes probably making some difference in tlie pronunciation,
— and they add the epithet " good " or " bad " to indicate which
one they mean. The Pvlicmacs have several names for God.
They call him Nixkam, which intimates that we are all his
offspring, Nixkamich signifying a grandfather or progenitor.
Another word so used is Nesulk, which is a form of the verb
kcsedu (to create), and literally means, " He makes us." " Our
Maker" is, of course, the correct translation. They also call
him Ukchesakumou, which signifies the Great Chief IMundu,
which is evidently the same as the Manitu or Menedu of the
tribes of Canada, is the IMicmac word for devil.

Everywhere the Indians believe in necromancy. Booozvin
is the Micmac word for wizard. The present generation
appears to be as firmly rooted in the belief of supernatural
powers exercised by men as ever their fathers were. It was
owing to this belief that their powwows (medicine-men, or
priests) were formerly able to exercise so much influence
over the others. These men were everywhere the most
formidable opposcrs of Christianity. It is so the world over.
The Indian of Nova Scotia now believes initudii abogunu-
w;/^yV (that the devil helped those fellows); but he has no
doubts of the reality of their powers. The devil, he will
assure you, is very strong. The ancient booowin could, he
firmly believes, fly through the air (even without a broom-

•:^ea^sr-

xliv

INTRODUCTION.

stick), go down through the cartli, remain under water as
long as he chose, transform himself into an animal, and
do all the other feats of witchcraft which our forefathers, as
well as learned divines of Salem, in Massachusetts, attributed
to the i^)oor old women of their day.

• But the most remarkable personage of their traditions is
Glooscap. The Indians suppose that he is still in existence,
although they do not know exactly where. He formerly
resided in Nova Scotia, but, of course, shifted his habitation.
He was, to say the least, almost an object of worship. He
looked and lived like other men ; he ate, drank, smoked,
slept, rnd ; ocd along with them. IJut he never died,
never was sick, never grew old. He lived in a very large
wigwiiiji. Cape B'omidon still bears his name, Glooscap-
week (Glooscap's iionic). The Basin of Minas was his beaver-
pond, — for he had everything on a large scale. The dam
was at Cape Split; and we are indebted to this wondrous
personage, so goes the tradition, for the privilege of sending
our ships down this passage. For there he cut open the
beaver-dam, — and the fact is established by the name which
it still bears. The Indians call it Pleegum (the opening made
in a beaver-dam). Spencer's Island was his kettle, made of
a stone. That is still its name ; and two rocks, somewhat
resembling dogs seated on their haunches, near n'ioowojiie
(his kettle) are called tCtcck (his dogs). The kettle is now
bottom upward, and the dogs were transformed into rocks
when he went away. His canoe was also of stone.

Glooscap was unmarried. A venerable old lady whom he
called grandmother kept house for him, and a little fellow
named Abistanaooch' (Marten) was his servant. He could do
anything and everything. The moose and the caribou came
around his dwelling as tame as cattle ; and the other beasts
were equally obsequious. The elements were entirely under
his control. He could bring on an intensity of cold when he
chose, which would extinguish all the fires of his enemies, and
lay them stiffened corpses on the ground.

IXTRODUCTION.

xlv

Glooscap frequently figures in their legends. He seems to
have bcun, on the wliole, a nuble-mindecl, generous sort of
personage. You do not often meet with any mischievous
exercise of his power. Strangers were always welcome to
his wigwam, and the needy never failed to share in his hos-
pitality, until some act of treachery on their part or some
distrust of his ability called for castigation. His bounty,
however, did not cost him much. When hungry travellers
arrived, there was no necessity for slaughtering a moose or
killing the " fatted calf." The old lady would hang on the
kettle. Marten would make up the fire and pour in the water.
She would then pick up a piece of an old beaver bone and
scrape it into the kettle. As the boiling commenced, these
scrapings would thicken up, and the huge kettle would be
soon full of fat pieces of flesh. If the necessity of the case
required, a very small piece of this meat would satisfy the
most hungry visitor, — for as fast as he cut ofi" one piece, it
would immediately appear again.

Glooscap, they say, became offended at the encroachments
of the whites; but what displeased him most of all, and drove
him away, was their treachery. By direction of the king, an
attempt was made to take him prisoner, — an attempt, as it
proved, quite as foolish as it was wicked. Little Marten was
decoyed before the mouth of a loaded cannon. The match
was applied, the powder blazed ; but no sooner had the
smoke cleared away than the astonished spectators beheld
the boy astride on the gun, composedly smoking his pipe.
A second attempt was made; this had, of course, it was pre-
tended, been a pure accident. Marten was induced to enter
the cannon's mouth, — he must have been small or the cannon
very large. The gun was again discharged. Nothing was to
be seen this time of the boy ; no doubt was entertained of his
annihilation. One of the bystanders after a little while peeps
into the gun, and behold, there sits the little gentleman, as
easy as possible, quietly puffing away at his pipe as though
nothing had happened. But unavailing as were these at-

xlvi

INTRODUCTION.

tempts, Glooscap gave vent to his anger, and in his rage
abandoned the country, turned over his kettle as he went
off, and changed his dogs into rocks. There the faithful
sentinels still keep watch; and when he returns he will be as
able to restore them to their former life and vigor as he was
at his departure to fix them where they now are.

Through this vivid sketch of the Micmac Indians, given by
Dr. Rand in the pamphlet referred to, we get a glimpse not
only of the home life, the out-door life, the social life of this
tribe of Indians, but also of their mental life ; we can measure
their intellectual capacity and their knowledge. Their curi-
ous tales show high imaginative power ; the flexibility of their
language and the copicnisness of their vocabulary show a re-
markable power of discrimination and expression. One can
easily image the constant wonder and delight which Dr. Rand
felt as his researches into this unknown tongue revealed to
him, more and more, nice distinctions of thought, and varie-
ties of fitting expression for a given object or thought ; even
the Indian himself felt pride in his linguistic versatility, and
boasted, " Always everything two ways me speakum." Of
all the languages which Dr. Rand knew, that of the Alicmacs
interested him the most; he found it remarkable, not merely
in its richness of vocabulary and regularity of formation, but
especially in its expressiveness, its simplicity, and its melo-
diousness. In all of these respects he declares that the Micmac
will bear comparison with any of the most learned and pol-
ished languages of the world.

HELEN L. WEBSTER.

i f

MICiMAC INDIAN LEGENDS.

I I

ROBBERY AND MURDER REVENGED.

'T^WO men once lived together in one wigwam in the
woods, on the borders of a lake. The name of one
was Pulowech' (Partridge); and that of the other was
Wejek' (Spruce Partridge). Tliesc two men were always
associated together, and they lived by the chase.

One day Pulowech' was walking along the shore in the
winter-time, and he discovered three girls seated on the ice,
arranging and braiding their hair. He stole up towards
them in order to spring upon them and seize one or more;
but they were too spry for him, and plunged all together
into a hole in the ice, and thus effected their escape.
Shortly after this he saw them again, and this time he
was more cautious. He took some fir boughs and concealed
himself behind them, and slowly creeping along he came
so near, before the girls took the alarm, that in hc^ haste one
of them dropped the string with which she fastened her hair,
the sakiVo'ba-. This he picked up and carried home witli
him, and tied down to the place where he usually sat and
slept in the wigwam. It was not long before the girl who
had dropped her hair-string returned to search for it. She
proceeded to the wigwam where it was fastened, and quietly
decided to remain and be the wife of him who had thus
wooed and won her.

MICM^IC IiXDIAN LEGEXnS.

After this, rulowcch' her husband (lior "old man" is the
term usually applied, and is, contrary to our notions, a term
not of disresi)ect, but of honor) ^ocs a\v'a\' into the ft)rest to
search for ^^lme. In the mean time his comr.ule returns, and
to his surprise fuuls a woman installed in the i)lace of female
autlujrit}'. lie ([iiietly sits down by her. Ihit soon after, his
friend arrivjui;, he is informed that he has made a mistake;
that he must not sit there, but march o\'er to the opposite
side of the wigwam, as the woman is liis (riilowech's) wife.
This is done without dispute or delay, and everything goes
smoothly on.

(Jn their next lumting-excm-sion the two men go away
together, and leave the woman in charge of the establish-
ment. Her husband charges her to keep the door closed,
and to suffer no one to enter, — not even her own nearest
relatives, not brother or sister, father or mother; for should
she open to any one, she would be carried off and murdered.
She promises obedience, and the two men depart. They are
to be gone all night, and she prepares to take care of the
house, and to take care of herself, as directed. She carefully
closes the door and fastens it, and lies down to rest. 15ut at
midnight she is awakened by a call outside ; some one is
asking to be allowed to come in: Paiita/idool' ! — "Open
the door for mc ! " But she paj's no heed to the call. It
is a magician, — ts. Boootn (a Pozvzvozu), — and he can imi-
tate the voice of her relatives with spirit-rapping accuracy.
There are several of her relatives there. She soon hears,
as she supposes, her own brother calling, Paiitahdooi' ! —
"Open the door for me!" Still she remains firm to her
promise; she pays no heed to the call. After a little she
hears, or seems to hear, her own mother call, Wfoos
(" My daughter"), pantahdooc (" open the door for me ") !
Still she stirs not, answers not. Shortly after, she hears her
father call, 'Ntoos ("My daughter "), /^///rt'Mw ("open
to me ") ; lake cyoivchce (" I am very cold ") ! Her reso-
lution now gives way; she cannot refuse to let in her old

ROnUERY AXD MURDER REVENGED.

)cn

cy.
irs,

icr
she

TOS

')'•

her
)cn
tso-
lold

father; she cannot resist his earnest pleading's for admission.
She rises and opens tlie door. Alas for the poor thiny!
There stands llie wily wolf in tlu; form of a man possessed
of ma^i;ical arts and powers, who carries her off, and finally
kills her.

Wejek' comes in from his hunting, and is surprised to find
the woman i,fone. He jjoes in quest of her. He soon comes
amon^j the scoundrels who have carried her off, and is himself
overpowered and killed.

Finally, Tulowech' arrives home, and perceives that his wife
and his friend are both among the missing. He cannot tell
what has become of them, but he has some skill in magic,
and puts this skill in practice, first, to ascertain what has
become of his wife and his friend, and next, to discover and
punish the robbers and murderers. The mode of procedure
is diis: he takes a wooden dish and fills it half full of water,
and places this carefully close to the back part of the wig-
wam just opposite the door, this being the chief seat or place
of honor (as in the Syrian house). Then he lies down on
his face and sleeps. In the morning, on awaking, he exam-
ines the wolii^s, the wooden dish, and finds it half full of
blood. He knows by this that his wife and his comrade
have been murdered. He now resolves on revenge. He
will seek out and kill those who have robbed him and killed
his friends. He gathers up his weapons and equips himself
for the expedition. He takes his hatchet, his spear, his bow,
and fiint-headed arrows, and starts. He goes on a long dis-
tance, carefully reconnoitring and examining eve r unusual
appearance. Soon he sees a man's knee protruding from a
high cliff, the owner of the knee being apparently embedded
in the solid rock. He knows what this means. The fellow
is trying to hide, but is displaying unconsciously a vulnerable
part. One blow^ from the hatchet severs the knee close to
the rock, and leaves its possessor hard and fast. A short
distance farther on he discovers a fellow's foot sticking out
from the face of the cliff. The chopping process is repeated ;

iMiCMAC IXD/A.V LEGENDS.

the foot 13 severed, riiul the wretch is killed. A little farther
on he discovers a poor httle squirrel crawling aloii-^ half
de;id, and he takes it up anil puts it in his bosom, and talks
to it. " Vou must flight to-day, my brave little fellow," he
says, " but I will be near to aid you. When I tap yuu on
the back, }ou will brin^ fjrth your youu};."

His next adventure was with a flock of wild ^ccsc sportin;;
in a lake, — magicians they were in reality who had .nssunied
the form of SiiiCun/cwak'. lie assails them with his bow ami
arrows, ami kills them all. He lies them tof^ether by their
heads, strings them across his shoulders, and pursues his
course in searcli of more enemies.

The next one he discovers is in the g;uisc of an ordinary
mortal. He is quietly seated in a wi;^wam, which our liero
enters without ceremony, according to Indian custom. Me
gets a very cool reception. The usual invitation, KiitA-
kiimoogival' (" Come up hii;her"), is not given. The owner
of the establishment is sulk}' and taciturn. He cooks some
food, however, and divides it, dipping out a portion for his
unwelcome guest, l^ut just as the stranger reaches out his
hand to receive it, he twitches it away from him and tells him
in a grossly insulting tone that he would rather give it to his
dog. He offers it to him again, and again twitches it away
with the same insulting remark. He then inquires, "Have
you met with any adventures to-day?" *' I have," is the
answer: " I saw a fellow's knee sticking out from a cliff, and
I chopped it off; a little farther on I saw a fellow's foot
sticking out in the same way, and I chopped it off. Then I
fell in with some wild geese in a lake, and 1 shot them, and
have brought them to j-our wigwam; just step out of doors,
and you will see them."

"Come on, then," he replies; "our dogs must fight."
" All right ! " is the answer. " Bring out your dog I " This
is done, when, lo ! instead of a dog (^uitDiioocli) there comes
forth a hnrgc, formidable, savage beast called a wcisuin.

Pulowech' produces Jiis ' dog,' — a great contrast to the

KOnnERV Ah'D MURDER REVENGF.n,

other, — a tiny squirrel, ami half dead at that, whicii he lays
carefully before the fire. Ikit soon the Utile thinjj begins to
move and stretch and shake itself and j,M(j\v lar<;er, until its di-
mensions almost equal those of its antagonist. The conflict
now commences, and ra:;es with unabated violence fur some
time, when the zocisinn begins to yet the better of his antatjonist.
Then the master steps up and jjives her a taj) on the b.ick,
and she immediately briui^s forth two youn;^ ones, that gri)vv
u]) in a Iwinklinj^, and are as large, as strong, and as active
as their mother. They rush in and mingle in the fray, tear-
ing away with tooth ami nail at the poor zuiisiait. lie is soon
overpowered, ami his master begs for his life, owns that he
is beaten, and entreats the other to call off his dogs.
" I''riend," sa)'s he, " let us part our dogs; this is not my own
dog, but my old grandmother's." " liat is the last thing in
the world I'ulowech' would think of doing. He pays no at-
tention to the entreaties of his antagonist, ami the weisuiii is
soon stretched lifeless upon the ground. \Vhereupt)n his
owner expresses great regret, but not so much professedly on
his own account as on account of his poor grandmother, who
set a store by her " dog," and will take it grievously to heart
that he has been overcome, and has fallen in the fray.

He then proposes an excursion upon the river in a canoe.
This is agreed to, and the two launch the fragile "vessel"
and set sail. They are soon out into the middle of the river,
and arc borne rapidly down by the current. Presently they
reach a high perpendicular cliff, against which the water is
dashing with great violence. It is soon discovered that there
is a passage through these rocks, and that the water goes
thundering through. Into this narrow, dark passage-way,
amidst the boiling surges, the canoe is driven and forced
furiously on. Pulowech' maintains his scat and steadies the
'■ bark," as it flics; but looking round he sees that he is left
alone, his wily companion having leaped ashore just as the
canoe was about entering this horrid hole. Soon, however,
he emerges out into the light, and finds the water calm and

III

6 MICMAC INDIAN- LEGENDS

smooth, — so smooth and still that he can scarcely discover any
current at all. He now begins to use his paddle, and moves
quietly on. He soon discovers a smoke near the shore, and
lands. The smoke issues from a cave, and standing near the
door he hears the voices of parties within engaged in earnest
conversation : some one is relating to another the adventures
of the day. Me soon ascertains that it is his " host," who
has deserted him so unceremoniously in the hour of danger,
telling his grandmother of the death of the several worthies
who had fallen under the superior " magic " of i'ulowech'.
When he relates how the last magician who had assumed the
form of the wcisiiin, her special friend and favorite, is killed,
the old lady's wrath knows no bounds. " If he were only
still alive," she asseverates, " and would come this way, I
would roast him alive, — that I would." " But he is not alive,"
replies her friend. " I sent him wliere he '11 not see the light
again very soon, I can assure you."

Their conversation is now interrupted by our hero's step-
ping boldly in and presenting himself before them. " But I
am alive," he says, " after all, old boy ; now come on "
(addressing the old lady), Bdkstkboksooc, "roast me to
death ! " The old woman gives him a hideous scowl, and
says nothing, and he takes his scat. She is of the porcupine
"totem," and shows her quills. She begins to rouse up the
fire. She has formidable piles of hemlock bark all dried for
the purpose, and she piles it on with an unsparing hand.
The fire blazes, crackles, and roars, and the heat becomes
intense; but he does not stir until they have exhausted their
supply of fuel. It is now his turn. He goes out and collects
fuel, and bestows it unsparingly upon the fire, and then closes
and fastens the entrance to the cave. He hears them calling
for compassion, but he is deaf to their cries. The roof and
sides of the cavern glow and crack with the heat, and by and
by the fire goes down and all is still. The last of the rob-
bers and murderers arc killed and burned to cinders.

THE MAGIC DANCLXG-DOLL.

II.

THE MAGICAL DANCING-DOLL.

NOOJEKESIGUiNODASlT.

' I "^HERE was once living in the forest an Indian couple
-L who had seven sons, the oldest of whom was very un-
kind to the youngest. He used to impose hard tasks upon
him, deprive him of his just allowance of food, and beat him.
Finally, the lad determined to endure it no longer, and re-
solved to run away. His name, from his occupation, was
NoojekesigunodasTt' His particular work was to take the
rags from the moccasins, when pulled off, wring them and
dry them.

So he requests his mother to make him a small bow and
arr<3w, and thirty pairs of moccasins. She complies with his
request, and when all are finished he takes the moccasins and
his bow, and starts. He shoots the arrow ahead, and runs
after it. In a short time he is able to outrun the arrow and
reach the spot where it is to fall before it strikes the ground.
He then takes it up and shoots again, and flics on swifter
than the arrow. Thus he travels straight ahead, and by
night he has gone a long distance from home.

In the mean time his six brothers with their father have all
been out hunting. When they return at evening, he is not
there, and the older brother finding him absent is greatly
enraged ; he wants him to wring out and dry the wrappers
of his feet. He inquires what has become of him. Being
told that he has gone away, he resolves to pursue him and

1 Ahr-ilnoddsU, to wring and dry socks; iXoojckM^iinoddsn, the sock wringer
and drver.

MIC MAC INDIA X LEGEXDS.

i. ^1

bring him back. So the next morning off he goes in pursuit,
carefully following in liio brother's tracks. For one lumdrcd
days in succession he follows on, halting every night and
resting till morning. Ikit during all this time he has only
reached the spot where his brother passed his first night.
He sees no sign before this of his having kindled a fire or
erected a shelter ; so he becomes discouraged, giv<' ■■ "p the
pursuit, and returns home.

The little boy in the mean time has been pursuing his v.ay ;
he has met a ver}' old man and had an inter\iew with liim.
Tavic rdccn ak tame ivcjicn ? (" Whither away, and where
are you from?") the old man asks. " I have come a long
distance," says the boy; "and you, — where are you
from?" " \'ou say, my child, you have come a long dis-
tance," the old man replies ; "but I can assure \'ou the dis-
tance you have come is nothing in comparison with what I
have travelled over ; for I was a small boy when I started,
and since that day I have never halted, and you see that now
I am very old." The boy answers, " I will try to go to the
place from whence you came." "You can never reach it,"
the other answers. " But I will try," replies the boy. Seeing
that the old man's moccasins are worn out, the boy offers
him a new pair; he accepts them gratefully and sa\s : " I, in
return, will do you a great favor. Here, take this box; you
will find it of essential service to }-ou in your travels." He
then gives him a small box with a cover properly secured,
which he puts in his " pouch; " and each goes his way.

After a while the boy begins to wonder what the box con-
tains. He takes it out and opens it. As soon as he has
removed the cover, he starts with an exclamation of suri^rise;

f<jr 1

le sees a smal

imacfc in the form of a man danciiu

with all his might, and recking with perspiration from the
•long-continued exertion. As soon as the light is let in upon
him, he stops dancing, looks suddenly up, and exclaims,
"Well! what is it? What is wanted?" The truth now
flashes over the boy. This is a supernatural agent, a iiuinitoOy

■■'""----■■->■ ■

THE MAGIC DANCING-DOLL. Q

a god, from the spirit-world, which can do anything that lie
is requested to do. " I wish," says the boy, " to be trans-
ported to the phice from wlionce the old man came." He
then closes the box; suddenly his head swims, the darkness
comes over him, and he faints. On coming to himself again,
he finds himself near a large Indian village, and knows that
this is the place from whence the old man had strayed. lie
walks into the first wigwam he comes to (a point of etiquette
usually observed by the Indians on visiting a village), and is
kindly received and invited up toward the back part of the
wigwam, the place of honor. There is but one person in the
wigwam, and that is an old woman, who begins to weep bit-
terly as soon as the young man is seated. He asks the cause
of her grief, and is told that it is on his account. She takes
it for granted that he has come in quest of a wife, and that
such hard conditions will be enjoined as the price of dower
that he will be slain. This she proceeds to tell him, and to
relate how many who were much more brave and mighty
than he appears to be, have fallen under the crafty dealings
of their old chief, who imposes the conditions and works
the death of those who come as suitors for his daughters.
" Never mind," says our hero ; " he '11 not be able to kill me.
I am prepared for any conditions he may be disposed to
enjoin."

Meanwhile it is soon noised abroad throucrh the villacre
that a strange youth has arrived, to solicit in marriage one
of the old chief's daughters. The chief sends him a some-
what haughty message to come and present himself before
him. He answers the summons in a tone still more haughty.
"Tell him I won't go," is the answer returned. The chief
thereupon relaxes somewhat in his sternness, and sends a
very modest request, intimating that he shall have one of
his daughters in marriage, provided he will remove a trouble-
some object, a small nuisance, that hinders him from seeing
the sun from his village until it is high up in the morning.
This is a high granite mountain; he will please remove that

MIC MAC INDIAN LEGENDS.

out of the way. "All right," is the quiet response; and the
young man sits down in great composure.

So, when the shades of evening have gathered over the vil-
lage, he quietly takes out his little box and opens it. There,
still dancing lustily, is his little comrade (luciil'ipchccj iV) . Tic
stops suddenly, looks up, and exclaims, " Well, what is it ?
What do you want of me? " " I want you to level down that
granite mountain," is the answer ; " and I want it done before
morning." All' ("All right"), is the txw^wcx, — kcsdftlah-
dt'gcdcs (" I will have done it by morning"). So he shuts up
his little box, lies down, and goes to sleep. But all night long
he hears the sound of laborers at their work. There is pound-
ing, trampling, shouting, shovelling ; and when he awakes, lo !
the whole mountain has been removed. When tlie chief
awakes he hardly knAws where he is ; he is astonished out
of measure. "He shall be my son-in law," he exclaims;
"go, call him, and tell him to come hither." The \oung
man now obeys his summons. But the chief requires some-
thing further before he will give him the hand of his daugh-
ter. He happens to be at war with a powerful neighboring
tribe, and he indulges the hope that by engaging the young
man in the war, he can cause him to fall by the hands of his
enemies. He informs him that he wishes to surprise and
destroy a village belonging to the enemy. " I will join you,"
says the young man. " Muster j'our warriors, and we will
start to-morrow upon the expedition." Arrangements are
accordingly made, and everything is got ready for an early
start. Tiut our hero departs that very evening, and comes in
sight of the village. There he uncovers his box and explains
his wishes to the " dancing doll." He then lies down and
sleeps. All ni,f;;ht long he hears the noise of war, the shouts
of men, the clash of arms, the shrieks of women and children,
and the p;roans of the wounded and dj'ing. The noise and
commotion grow fainter and fainter, and at length cease alto-
gether. Morning dawns; he proceeds to view the village.
All is silent and still ; every soul is cut off, — men, women, and

THE MAGIC DAXCIXG-DOLL.

I I

children arc all dead. He now returns, and on his way meets
the chief and warriors moving on towards the enemy's vil-
lage. He reports that he has destroyed the whole place as
requested. They send, and find that it is even so. The chief
now inquires his name. He sa\-s, " Noojekesigunodasit; "
he is surprised, but fulfils his promise and gives him one of
his daughters for a wife. He builds a large and commodious
lodge, and takes up his residence there with his wife, and has
a servant to wait upon him. He himself joins the hunters
in their expeditions in the forest for game, and all goes
on smoothly for a time. But, alas for human hai)piness!
there is always something to mar our repose. This servant
manages to steal the " household god," and to run away with
it, — wife, wigwam, and all. He accomplishes the feat thus:
One day the master of the house went out a hunting, and
carelessly left his coat behind with the " Penates," " Tera-
phim," " Manitoo," or " dancing-doll," " magical box," or
whatever else you may choose to call it, quietly stowed away
in the pouch or pocket. Now it so happened that his servant
had often been led to inquire in his own mind what could be
the secret of his master's wonderful prowess. Seeing the
coat on this occasion, he takes it up and slips it on. " Halloo !
what is all this? " he exclaims, as he feels the box. He takes
it out and opens it. "Hie! what are j'Ou?"he shouts, as
his eyes rest on the dancing image. The little fi-llow stops
his dancing suddenly, looks up, and exclaims, " Well, what is
it? What do you want of me? " The truth is now out. It
flashes over the fellow. This is a " Alanitoo," and he it is
that works all the wonders. The opportunit\- is not to be
lost. " I want," says he, " this wigwam with all its contents
removed to some spot where it cannot be discovered." The
Manitoo replies, " I'll do it for you." Then the man grows
dizzy, faints, and soon finds himself, wigwam, mistress, and
all, far away in the depths of the forest, and surrounded on
all sides by water. Of course he takes quiet possession, —
is lord of the place, the " palace," and all.

j).:si.

Bi '

MICMAC INDIAN LEGENDS.

But his triumph is brief. The original owner comes home,
and finds himself minus wife, wigwam, magical box, and all.
But he still has his magical bow and arrow ; and shooting his
arrows and giving chase, he is soon at the secluded wigwam,
and has discovered his stolen home and wife.

No small management is required to regain the wonder-
working box. lie waits till nightfall; he looks in and sees
the perfidious servant asleep with the coat under his head.
He steals softly in, and directs the woman to withdraw it care-
fully from under him. lie then slips it on, opens the box,
and wishes himself back, wigwam, wife, servant and all, to
their original home. No sooner said than done ; and back
the faithless servant is in his hands. Summary punishment
is inflicted; he is killed, flayed, and a door blanket is made
of his skm.

One more adventure and the story ends. The old chief
himself is a great hooliin (" medicine man " or " wizard "),
whose tutelar deity is a cJupcdicnhn (a huge horned serpent
or dragon, fabulous of course, but about the existence of which
few doubts arc entertained by the Indians). He is chagrined
to find himself outdone by his son-in-law. So he makes one
more effort to rid himself of him. He says quietly to him
one day, " I want you to bring me the head of a clicpcch-
cahn for my dinner." " I will do so," he replies. The
dancing-doll is commanded to bring one of these frightful
monsters to the village. He docs so. The inhabitants sec
the danger, and they scream and fly in every direction. Our
hero walks out boldly to meet him, and gives battle ; the
fight is long and fearful, but finally victory declares for the
man, and he severs the dragon's head from his trunk. He
takes this head in his hand, and walks over to the chief's
lodge and tosses it in. He finds the chief alone, weak and
exhausted, and sitting bent nearly double ; he walks up to
him and pounds him on the head with tlie dragon's head.
The old necromancer's magic is gone ; his tcdinul, his " med-
icine," his " tutelary deity," is destroyed, and he falls and dies.

THE MAGIC DANCING-DOLL.

[Here the story abruptly ends. One feels strongly inclined
to supply what may be supposed to be a " missing page" in
the history, and to install the young son-in-law in the old
chief's place, and to give him a long, peaceful, and prosper-
ous reign, numerous progeny, and a good time generally. I
shall take no liberties of that kind. I simply translate the
story as it lies before mc, — not translating literally certainly,
which would be gross injustice to my original; but faithfully,
as I wrote it down from the mouth of a Micmac Indian in his
own language.]

iVICMAC INDIAN LEGENDS.

ITT.

THE MAGICAL COAT, SHOES, AND SWORD.

!^ :i '

t I

[TllM folluwiiii; story embodies so many unnatural mar-
vels that I cannot easily fix upon a title. It relates the
adventures, however, all through, of one personage, a young
prince, who ought therefore to be mentioned in the title
of the story. As towns, intoxicating liquors, soldiers, and
sentinels are referred to, the story must be of comparatively
recent origin. But it is none the less interesting on that
account. Its reference to transformations and magic, in gen-
eral, seems clearly to point to an Indian origin, though the
" invisible coat," " shoes of swiftness," and " sword of sharp-
ness " look wonderfully like some fairy tale of European
birth. It is as follows:]

THERE was once a large town where a very rich king re-
sided. He had so much money that a particidar house
was appropriated to it, which was carefully guarded by senti-
nels. v\ftcr a time this king became intemperate, and wasted
his money in rioting and drunkenness. His queen became
alarmed lest he should spend the whole estate and they
should be reduced to poverty. To prevent this, she gives
directions to the soldiers tliat guarded the treasure not to
allow the king to take any more. They obe\' her directions,
and when the king applies for more money he is told that it
is all gone. Thereupon he takes a turn in the fields, thinking
over his situation, when a very well-dressed gentleman meets
him and asks for one of his daughters in marriage. He
agrees to give him his eldest daughter (he has three in all)
for large amount of money. The terms are accepted, the

THE MAGICAL COAT, SHOES, AXD SWORD. 15

money paid, tlic girl dclivcivd up, and taken aua^^ nobody
knou's where. The kin^r spends tlie money in intoxicating
liquors, and keeps himself drunk as Ion- as it lasts.

Jle then takes another turn in tlie fields, and has a
similar adventure; he meets a gentleman who asks for his
next eldest daughter, f,.r whom he pays a lar-e i)rice, and
whom he carries off, no one knowing whither. 'Ihc king
again expends the money in dissipation. After a while this
money is all used up; the king is obliged to be sober and
keep so for a time, I]nt a third time, as he is strolling
over his fields, he meets a remarkably good-looking gentle'^
man, bringing a "cart-load- of money, which he oVfers for
the king's youngest daughter. The offer is again accepted,
and the girl is carried off, to come home no more, no one
knowing whither she is taken. The king carouses until' he
has again exhausted his money (a matter which requires but
httle time at best, and especially in dreams and fictitious
tales). He then becomes sober, and continues so of
necessity.

After a while his queen presents him with a son. The
little fellow grows, goes to school, and mingles with the other
children in their sports. 1 fere lie begins to learn something
of his own domestic history. He is told that he has three
sisters somewhere, but that his father has been a great drunk-
ard, and has sold all three of the girls for intoxicating liquors
— tvegoopsmncgn k'lmhknhn (a very curious expression de-
fying translation; one word denoting that the article rcfe'rred
to has been sold for rum, and that the seller has drunk him-
self drunk upon it). This information, tauntingly bestou-ed
by the other boys upon the young prince, is received with
emotions very far from pleasant. He goes home and tells
his mother what the boys have said to tease him. and inquires
If there ,s any truth in it. His mother puts him off. assuring,
mn that the story is false. After a while he begins to bet
heve that there is some truth in it, and he insists that his
mother shall tell him all. Seeing the anxiety of the boy, she

|^-.1

i'W^'Vagi'^.

A//CA/AC IXDIAI^ LEGENDS.

r
I

concludes to tell him, and ^mvcs liiin in detail all the par-
ticulars. " \'()M hail three sisters burn before you, but your
father sold ihetn all for rum." " But where do they live?"
the little b()\' inquires. " I do not know," sa)-s the mother.
" I '11 l;o in search of theni," rc[)lies the bo}'. " You cannot
find thcni," she sa)-s. "Indeed, I can," he rejoins ; " and I
will too."

So, one day, the boy directs his servant to harness the
" chariot " and put two horses to it. They start off, and
drive a lone; distance until they come to a river which is
crossed at a ford. Ilavinj; crossed the river, the boy sends
back the horses and the servant, and fjocs on alone.

lie soon comes upon three robbers who are so busy talk-
ing that they do not notice hini until he comes close upon
them. They seem to be puzzling over some matter that they
cannot decide. He inquires what the trouble is, and is in-
formed that they have taken a coat, a pair of shoes, and a
small sword, which they find it impossible to divide. He in-
quires about the goods in question, and learns that tlicrc is
remarkable magic in them all. The coat will render the
wearer invisible, the shoes will carry him with incredible
swiftness, and the sword will do whatever the wearer wishes.

" Oh," he says, " I can assist you ; I can divide them in the
most satisfactory manner. Gi\'e them into my hands, turn
your backs towards me, stand one before the other, and don't
look around until I speak." To this they all agree, and ar-
range themselves accordingly. He slips off his own shoes
and slips the new ones on, ptdls off his coat and puts on the
other, seizes the sword and wishes himself at the home of his
eldest sister. In an instant he seems to awake as it were out
of a sleep, and, lo ! he stands at the door of a large and stately
mansion. The three robbers stand still and wait without
speaking a word until night gathers over them, when they
look around and find to their dismay that they are deceived.
Then the three great " loons " go home.

The young man knocks at the door of the house where he

THE MAGICAL COAT, SHOES, AXD SWOKD.

Lit

'■I

finds himself staiuliiifj, and a lady comes to sec who is there.
He recognizes her, and salutes her as his sister, older than
himself. Ihit she meets him with a cold reception. " I have
no brother," she replies, " so that I cannot be your sister."
" ]?ut I am your brother," he rejoins; " our father is a king.
I was born after you and my other two sisters were sold and
carried off." This knowledge of her family history convinces
her that he is no impostor, and she joyfully receives and loads
him in. " But where is my brother-in-law? " he inquires.
" Out at sea, hunting," she answers, " whither he constantly
croes, but turns himself into a whale when he does so.
But," she adds, " he knows you arc here, and will be home
in a few minutes. There, sec! in the distance, throwing up a
shower of spray, he comes! " This frightens the )'oung man,
and he looks around for the means of flight or concealment.
But his sister calms his fears. " You need not be alarmed,"
she says, " for he will not hurt you." Forthwith up from the
shore walks a well-dressed gentleman, who immediately salutes
the young man as his brother-in-law, and gives him a very
cordial reception.

After a few days he proposes to leave them and go to find
his second sister. But he is told that the distance is great.
" Still," says he, " I will go." His brother-in-law offers to
supply him with money, but he declines the offer. After he
has gone out, his brother-in-law detains him a moment, and
gives him a fish-scale, carefully wrapped up, telling him that
should he ever get into trouble he would be at his side to as-
sist him if he would warm that scale a little. He takes the
scale and departs. After he is out of sight, he arrays him-
self in his magical garb, and is in a twinkling at his second
sister's house. She receives him just as the other had done,
but is convinced by the same arguments that he is not an im-
postor. She is exceedingly glad to meet him, as he also is
to meet her {wel cdaswoltiilJS). He immediately inquires for
her husband, and is directed to a large sheep feeding in a

distant field. Instantly the sheep tosses up his head, and

MIC MAC IXDIA.V l.EGEXDS.

inalvcs a leap towards the house; he comes \\\ upon the full
run, and assumes the form of a man as soon as he anives.
This man reco^mizes his brother-in-law, and says, Niiiniik-
tHin, pUgeslnoosiip (" I\Iy brother-in-law, have you arrived)?"
Al<)Jiil cid" ("1 have"), he replies. Then they are ^lad to
sec each other, and he remains there a luimber of days.

After a while he announces his intention to visit his young-
est sister. He is told that her residence is a long way off.
"But I can reach it," ho sa>s. His brother-in-law offers to
furnish him with money fur the excursion, but he declines
receiving any. He can travel free of expense. Ueforc his
departure, he is askeil to receive a small /oc/c of UHwl, and
is told to warm that a little, should he get into any difficulty,
and his friend would be at his side in an instant to help him.
So he departs.

When he is alone by himself, he again clasps his dagger
and wishes to be at his )oungest sister's house. Instantly he
awakes as it were from a slee[), and finds himself standing at
the door of a splendid mansion. This time he is recognized
at once by his sister, who welcomes him in, and is overjoyed
to see him. On inquiring for his brother-in-law, he is shown
a gray tame goose in the distance, and is told that that is he.
Instantly the goose files up, makes a dart towards the house,
and leaps up at the threshold into the form of a well-shaped,
beautiful man. He accosts him as the others had done : " My
brother-in-l:iw, have you found your way hither?" Alajiil
da ("Yes, I have"), he answers. So again all three arc very
glad to meet each other {zv^/cdahsool/tjlk).

After a few days he intimates to his sister that it i-^
time for him to look after his own private affairs, an iie

intends " to seek a wife." " To-morrow," says he, shall
start." She tells him th it there is a town where he ma}' iind
a lady to his liking; but the distance is great. This, to a man
who can travel by "telegraph" or "magic," is a matter of
small moment. When ready to start, his brothcr-in-Iaw offers
him all the money he needs ; and this time he accepts it. In

THE MAGICAL COAT, SHOES, AXD Sll'OAWX

•9

lie
lall
Ind
Ian
lof
trs
[n

addition to the money, a small feather is given to him, which
he is dircctcil to warm a little in any time of trouble, and his
friend will immediately be at his side to aid him.

Thus e(iiiii)ped, he starts, and L^rasping his trusty dajj^jcr, he
wishes himself at the town specified, and at one of the remot-
est houses. There he is in a twinkling, awaking, as usual, out
of a deep sleep, not liaving been sensible t)f the process of
transition. The house where he stands is a mean one, of
humble dimensions; ho enters, and is cordially welcomed.
There are two old women there, whom he found on arri\ing
most earnestly engaged in conversation, as though the affair
which they were discussing were one of grave importance.
He soon finds out what it is all about. There is to be a royal
wedding next day; "but," say they, "the bridegroom will
not see his bride long." " Why not? " he asks. " Ikcausc,"
they answer, " she will be immediately carried off." " Who
will carry her off?" he asks. They point out to him a very
high bluff across the arm of the sea, around which a fierce
storm of wind and rain is always raging, and they tell him
that within those rocks is a cavern inhabited by an " ogre,"
who cannot be killed, as he takes care to keep his " soul "
and " scat of life " in some distant place where it cannot be
reached; and as soon as a girl is married he instantly carries
her off to his cave, and she is never heard of more.

Next day, all the town is alive with the wedding at the
royal residence. The parties stand up; and no sooner arc the
mystic words pronounced that make them man and wife than
the bride vanishes. She is gone, but no one sees how; but
all know why and where. Instantly all is turnctl into mourn-
ing. This is the second daughter the poor king has lost; and
he weeps bitterly.

The stranger's arrival is now made known to the king.
After mutual inquiries and explanations, he agrees to take
the other daughter, and to fight the " ogre." The wedding
is arranged to come off the next day. The young man then
returns to the lodge where he was first entertained, and tells

s.=;s.i

MICMAC INDIAN LEGENDS.

the news. They assure him that he will lose his bride, and he
avers that he will recover her again.

So, the next day, the wedding takes place as arrange:'',
and also, as was expected, the bride is instantly spirited
away from his side. Nothing daunted or disconcerted, he
returns to the lodge and relates all to his friends. " We told
you so," say the old ladies. " But," says he, " to-morrow I
shall go and bring her home again." They doubt it.

Next morning he equips himself for the expedition. He
has an ugly customer to deal with, but he goes not in his own
strength. He can pit magic against magic ; and in case he is
worsted in the encounter, he can call his three powerful friends
to his aid. Putting on his shoes of swiftness, his magical coat,
and grasping the wonder-working dagger in his hand, he de-
mands to be placed at the entrance of the ogre's cave. There
he stands in an instant of time, in spite of the roaring waves
and raging storm. But tlic face of the rock is smooth and
solid ; there is no door, and no appearance of a door. He
draws his wonder-working dagger, and with its point marks
out a door in the face of the bluff. Immediately the door
rolls open and displays a vast apartment within, with a great
number of women seated in a circle, very evenly arranged.
He passes in, shielded from the sight of all by his invisible
coat. Even the ugly owner of the cave is outgcneralled.
There sits his wife, who was yesterday carried off, and the
ogre sits by her side leaning his head on her bosom. All at
once he starts up, exclaiming, " There is a wedding in the
city," and darts off. In another instant he is back, bring-
ing another woman, who takes her place in the circle. This
is repeated from time to time, and in the intervals of his
absence the young chief is enabled to converse in hasty
snatches with his wife. " Ask him where he keeps his soul,"
he says to her. She accordingly puts the question to him on
his return. He replies, " You are the first one that t^'ev
made such an inquiry of me, and I will tell you." He goes
on to state that it is at the bottom of the sea, far out from

THE MAGICAL COAT, SHOES, AND SWORD.

land, but in an exact line perpendicular to the cave where
they are. It is locked up in an iron chest, that chest being
enclosed in another, and that in another, seven in all, and
every one is locked. This information the " prince," who,
all invisible, is standing by, receives. He next- directs her to
ask him where he keeps the keys. He tells her this als'.
They lie in a direct line from the chests on this side.

Having obtained all the information he wants, the young
man retires from the cave. P'irst he warms the " fish-scale "
given him by his eldest sister's husband, and instantly the
whale appears, inquiring what is wanted. He relates what
has happened, and asks him to find and fetch the iron boxes
and the bunch of keys. This he does without difficulty; and
the boxes arc unlocked, one after the other, until they come
to the last. In attempting to open this, they fail, and break
the key. Then the " lock of wool " is warmed, and instantly
the ram with his twisted horns i? on hand to render service.
He is directed to butt open the box. This he does in a trice
by butting against it, when, presto ! out hops the ogre's soul,
and flics off in a trice. Then the "feather" is heated, and
the gray gander comes. He is sent as a winged messenger to
catch and bring back the " soul " and " seat of life " of the
ogre. Away he flies in pursuit, and soon returns bringing his
prisoner, and receives the hearty thanks of his brother-in-law,
who then commences operations on it with his magic sword,
and by dint of pounding, piercing, and hacking at the soul
subdues and after a wh'lc kills the magician of the cave.
Those around him know not the cause, but they sec that he is
growing weaker and weaker, that his voice is growing feeble
and faint, uii*:ii at length he ceases to breathe or to move.
Then our l;ero walks boldly and visibly in, and after throw-
ing the ogre out and pitching him into the sea, he crosses
over to the city and directs a large apartment to be pre-
pared. The women are then all conveyed to this apartment;
proclamation is made ; and every man whose wife has been
carried off is called to come and pick out his own and take

MI CM AC INDIAN LEGENDS.

her away. After all the rest have found and carried home
their wives, the young hero takes his, and goes over to the
royal palace.

[Mere the story ends, the reader being at liberty of course
to finish it out on his own responsibility, and to imagine
how the young hero was thanked, feasted, honored, and
raised to the highest dignities, and lived long and well.
Mine is but the humble office of translator. I add nothing
essential to the story. I simply translate freely, or rather
tell the story in English in my own language, guided by the
Micmac original, as I wrote it verbatim in Micmac from
the mouth of Capt. Jo Glode.]

CLOOSCAP AND THE MEGUMOOWESOO.

IV.

GLOOSCAP AND THE MEGUMOOVVESOO.
A MARRIAGE ADVENTURE.

[Note. — The IMicmacs l)elieve in the existence of a superhuman
being in the form of an Indian, named Glooscap. He is benevolent,
exercis-^s a care over the Indians, lives in a wigwam, an old woman keeps
house for him, and a small "boy fairy "is his servant. The .servant's
name is Ablstanaooch ( Marten).

They believe in otiier supernatural beings, living in the woods, formed
like men and women, and possessing vast powers, who can sing most
charmingly, and play on the flute exquisitely. Tliey sometimes are very
friendly to mortals, and are able to convert them into Megumoowcsoos.
Glooscap has the power to make tlie same transformations.

One more remark may help to add interest to the following tale The
custom of giving a price for a wife is an ancient Eastern custom, as may
be seen m the case of Jacob. To set the intended son-in-law to do some
dangerous exploit in o-der if possible to destrov him, has an historical
venhcation in the cas, f Saul, who demanded of David an hundred
foreskins of the Philiscines (. Sam. xviii. 25). Saul thought to make
David fall by the hands of tlie I'iiilistines. But to the talc.]

^HERE was once a large Indian village, from which, on a
-■- certain occasion, two young men started on an expedi-
tion, one to obtain a wife, and the otiicr to be his companion
and friend. After journeying a long distance, they reached
an island where Glooscap was residing. He Hved in a very
large wigwam. Glooscap liimself. the old woman, his house-
keeper, and his waiting-man. Marten, were at home. The
young men enter the wigwam and take l:^ -r seats. A meal
is immediately prepared for them and puic. J in a very tiny

MICMAC INDIAN LEGENDS.

dish. This dish is so small and there is so little food, that
they conclude that it will make but a sorry dinner. They find
out, however, that they are mistaken. Small as is the portion
of food assigned to them, they may eat as much as they like,
but they cannot reduce the amount; there is just as much in
the dish as ever. They finish their meal, and are well satisfied
and refreshed.

When night comes on, they lie down to sleep ; one of them
lies next to Glooscap, his head at Glooscap's fcct.^ Now it
happens that as this poor fellow is very hungry, he eats enor-
mously, deceived by the fact that the food remains undimin-
ished ; consequently he is ill of colic in the night, and during
his sleep meets with an unlucky accident. Thereupon Gloos-
cap arouses him, goes with him down to the river, causes
him to strip off and tike a thorough ablution. He then fur-
nislies him with a change of raiment, combs his hair, and
gives him a magic hair-string, which imparts to him super-
natural power, and turns him into a " MegCimoowesoo." He
gives him a tiny flute, and teaches him to discourse sweet
music therefrom. He also teaches him how to sing. He had
not been at all skilled in the art of song before ; but when
Glooscap leads off and bids him follow, he has a fine voice,
and can sing with all case.

The next day this young man solicits the loan of Glooscap's
canoe. Glooscap says, " I will lend it to you willingly, if
you will only bring it home again; the fact is, I never lent it
in my life, but that I had to go after it before I got it home
again." (The business of lending and borrowing is, as it
would seem, about the same in all places and in all ages.)
The young adventurer promises faithfully that he will bring
the canoe back in due time, and the two young men go down
to the shore to make ready for their journey. They look
round in vain for the kiveedtin (" canoe ") ; there is no such thing
to be seen. There is a small rocky island near the shore with

1 This is the way in which, .inioiig the Indians, a man and his wife usually
sleep. Witkiisoodijtk, — they lie heads and points.

GLOOSCAP AXD THE MEGUMOOWESOO

i '

trees growing on it, but there is no canoe. Glooscap tells
them this island is his kzvctdun. They go on board, set sail,
and find the floating island very manageable as a canoe. It
goes like magic.

Straight out to the sea they steer, and after a while reach a
large island, where they land, haul up the canoe, hide it in
the woods, and go forth in search of the inhabitants. They
soon come upon a large village. There a chief resides who
has a beautiful daughter ; he has managed to destroy a great
many suitors by imposing upon them difficult tasks, as the
condition of marrying the girl. They have accepted the
terms, and have either died in the attempt to perform the
tasks, or have been put to death for failure. The two young
men enter the chief's wigwam: they are politely invited up
to an honorable seat; tliey sit down, and the Alegumoowesoo
introduces the subject of his visit in behalf of his friend.
There is no long preamble. A short but significant sentence
explains all : " Aly friend is tired of living alone." This tells
the whole story, and it takes but two words in Micmac to tell
it : Sezvincoodoo-i^wahloogwat' nXgnmachii (they are words of
somewhat formidable length). The chief gives his consent,
but he imposes a somewhat dangerous condition. His in-
tended son-in-law must first bring in the head of a chcpcchcalm
(" horned dragon ")} The terms are accepted ; the two young
men go out and retire to another wigwam, where they pass
the night.

Some time in the aght the Megumoowcsoo leaves the
lodge and goes dragon-hunting. He finds a hole in the
ground where the serpent hides, ana lays a stick of wood
across it. Then he dances round and round tlic hole to in-
duce the enemy to come forth. Presently his " dragonship "
pokes up his head to reconnoitre, and then begins to come
out. In doing this he drops his neck upon the log that has
been purposely placed there for his accommodation, and one
blow from the hatchet severs his head from the trunk. The

1 See pages 12, 53, and u6.

A//CA/AC INDIAN LEGENDS.

Indian seizes it by the shining yellow horns, and bears it off
in triumph. He lays it down by the side of his sleeping
friend, rouses him, and directs him to carry it over to his father-
in-law. lie does so; and the old man, astonished, says to
himself, "This time I shall lose my child."

But the young man has further trials of skill to undergo.
The old chief coolly says, " I should like to sec my new son-
in-law coast down hill on a hand-sled." There happens to
be a high mountain in the neighborhood, the sides of which
are rugged and steep; and this is the place selected for the
coasting expedition. Two sleds arc brought out. The in-
tendeu son-in-law and his friend are to occupy one of them,
and two stalwart fellows, who are boodiiidk (" wizards ") wilhal,
are to occupy the other. They ascend the mountain in com-
pany ; when all is ready, Megumoowesoo and his friend take
the lead, the former undertaking to steer the sled ; the two
wizards follow, expecting that their friends will be tumbled
off their sleds before they go far, and that they will bo run
over and crushed to death. The word being given, away they
speed at a fearful rate, down, down, down the rough path, and
the young man soon loses his balance, and away he goes. His
companion, however, seizes him with all ease, and replaces
him upon the sled, but makes this a pretext for turning a little
aside to adjust matters, and the other sled passes them. In
an instant they are again under way, and, coming to some of
the rugged steeps, their sled makes a bound and leaps quite
over the other, which it now leaves behind ; the Megumoo-
wesoo shouting and singing as they fly, the sled thunders on
to the bottom of the mountain. Nor does its speed slacken
there ; on and on it darts towards the village, with the same
velocity, until it strikes the side of the old chief's wigwam,
which it rips ou*^ from end to end. The poor old chief springs
up in terror, and exclaims aloud, " I have lost my daughter
this t

mie

He finds that he has his match.

But there arc other trials of magical prowess to be made.
He must run a race with one of the magicians. They get

C Loose AP AXD THE MEGUMOOIVESOO.

ready, and Megumoovvcsoo slips his magical pipe into his
friend's hand, thus arming him with magical power; and off
they start, quietly side by side at first, so that they can
converse together. "Who and what are you?" the bride-
groom asks his friend. " I am Wegadcsk' (Northern Lights),"
he answers. "Who and what are you?" "I am Woso"--
wodesk ( Chain-lightning )," is the answer ; each of course
intending these high-sounding epithets as a boastful declara-
tion of his speed in running. Chain-lightning wins. He
arrives about noun, having made the whole course round the
world, but nut till towards evening does Northern Lights come
in, panting. Unce more the chief exclaims, " I must lose my
daughter this time ! "

One more game finishes the dangerous sports of the occa-
sion. They must swim and dive, and see which can remain
the longer under water. So they plunge in, and again
inquire each other's names. "What is your name?" the
bridegroom asks the boollin. "I am Ukchigumooech (Sea-
duck)," he answers. " And who are }'ou ? " "I am Kweemoo
(Loon)," he answers. So down they plunge. After a long
time Sea-duck bobs up, but they wait and wait for the appear-
ance of Loon. Then the old chief declares that he is satisfied.
The young man may take the girl and go ; but the wedding
must be celebrated by a regular dance in which all may par-
ticipate. A cleared, well-beaten spot near the chief's wigwam
is the dancing-ground. W1ien all is ready, the Megumoowesoo
springs up and begins the dance. If there is any concealed
plot connected with the dance, he determines to disconcert
it; at all events he will show them what he can do. Round
and round the circle he steps in measured tread. His feet
sink deep into the smooth compact earth at every step, and
plough it up into high uneven ridges at every turn, fie sinks
deeper and deeper into the earth, until at last naught save his
head is seen above the ground as he spins round the circle.
He then stops ; but he has put an end to the dancing for that

day.

the

ground has been rendered totally unfit for the

exercise.

MICMAC INDIAN LEGENDS.

The games arc now all over, and the young man and his
friend have come off victorious in every trial. The " lady
fair " is given him for his bride, and the happy bridegroom and
his friend, taking her with them, launch the magical canoe
and start for boosijik (" home "). Their troubles and dangers
are not over. The wily old chief sends some of his magical
band to thwart them on their way. As they paddle quietly
along over the glassy surface of the sea, they perceive that a
storm has been conjured up ahead, and it is bearing down
apace upon them ; but if one conjurer can raise the wind, so
can another; and when "Greek meets Greek," then comes
the tug-of-war. The only question is which is the more expert
warrior of the two. In a trial of enchantment it is the same.
If one can blow, so can the other; and the one that can blow
the harder beats. The Megumoowesoo stands up in tlie
canoe, inflates his lungs, swells out his cheeks, and blows for
dear life; he puffs the stronger gale. Wind meets wind; the
approaching storm is driven back, and leaves the sea all
{axvibuncdk) calm and smooth as before.

They now proceed on their way, but keep a good lookout
for " breakers." Presently they perceive something sticking
up in the water, which on closer examination proves to be a
beaver's tail. They understand it in an instant. A boooin has
assumed this form to lull suspicion ; and intends, by a blow of
his tail as they pass, to capsize the canoe. Megiimoowesoo
steers directly towards the tail, and just as they come up to it
he exclaims, " I am a capital hand to hunt beavers; many is
the one I have killed ;" and he deals a blow with his hatchet,
which severs the tail from the body and kills the wizard.

They then proceed, but haul close in shore in order to
round the point. They see an animal about the size of a
small dog, which bears a somewhat unsavory name, and which
sometimes deluges his pursuers with a still more unsavory
perfumery. This animal is termed in Micmac abookcJucloo ;
in English he is commonly known as the skunk, but by way
of euphony he is called Sir John Mephitis. Sir John on this

GLOOSCAP AXn THE MEGllrMOOWKSOO.

occasion happens to be a necromancer, sent out hy tlie dis-
concerted old chief to ojjpose the progress of tiie wedding-
party. He lias arranged his battery, and stands ready to
discliargc his artillery as they approach. lUit the Megumoo-
wesoo is too much fur him. He has a spear all ready; he
has whittled out a small stick, which he sends whirling through
the air with unerring aim, and the poor skunk gives two or
three kicks and dies. His destroyer steps ashore and takes a
pole, sharpens the end, transfixes the animal upon it, .sticks the
pole up in the ground, and leaves poor Sir John dangling in
the air. Lik-Jio-Jc-nalii !^ he exclaims. " There, sir, you
can exhibit yourself there as long as you i)lease."

Their dangers are now all over. They soon arrive at Gloos-
cap's habitation. They find him waiting for them at the
shore. He says, " Well, my friends, I see you have returned
my canoe." " VVc have, indeed," they reply. "And what
kind of a time have you had ? " he inquires. They assure him
that they have had a splendid time, and have had uninter-
rupted success. At this he manifests his great satisfaction ;
he has been cognizant of everything as it went along, and has
had no small share in their triumphs. After entertaining
them he dismisses them, telling the Megumoowesoo that
should he get into trouble, he is but to think of him, and
assistance will be sent forthwith. The two friends with the
bride go home, and then they separate, — one to pursue the
course of ordinary mortals, the other to move in that higher
sphere to which he has been raised.

1 Lik-cho-Jf-iiain' will not bear literal translating.

MICMAC INDIAN LEGENDS.

THE BOY THAT WAS TRANSFORMED INTO

A HORSI'.

"\J OW, on a certain time in a certain place there were many
^ ^ people living. One man was very poor and had a
larye family. A gentleman came one day and offered him a
very large sum of money for his little boy. He accei)ted the
offer and sold the child, though he was aware of the evil
character of the man who bought him, and knew that it would
be the means of his eternal destruction. He had sold him to
the de\-il.

After this he had another son born to him. At the aee of
eighteen months the child was able to talk, and immediately
made inquiries about his elder brother. He said to his
mother, "Where is my brother?" Then the mother began
to weep, and told him that he had been sold by his father.
The child asked, " Where has he been taken? " The mother
replied, " An evil spirit has carried him off." The child said,
Mcmscdk ./ (" I will go and fetch him back ! ")

Shortly after this a man entered the house whom no one
could see except the little boy. This man said to the child.
" Arc you intending to go and bring home }'our brother?"
He replied, " I am." The man said, " I will give you direc-
tions respecting the way, and will assist you when you are
ready to go."

The next morning the child goes out, and the man meets him
and says, " Are you ready for your expedition? " The child
replies that he is all ready. The man gives him a tiny horse-
whip, telling him to conceal it about his person, and let no

_- -4«.A.

THE BOY THAT WAS TKAXSFORMi: D IXTO A IIONSI-..

one know he has it, and at tlic proper time he will learn to
what use lie has to put it. He then points out to him the road
that he must take. " Do you see away yonder that road that
passes right through a cloud? Go you on t . that place, and
when you have passed througli the cloud you will come to a
large house. Go up to that house, and you will meet tiie
owner, and he will inquire of you what you want. Tell him
}ou are looking for work. He will inform )-ou that if you
can take care of horses he will give you employment. Tell
him you can, and accept the situation. While }-<ni are tend-
ing the horses, one of them will speak to }ou, and tell you
that he is your brother, and he will inquire what has induced
you to come hither. Tell him you have come as his
deliverer."

The boy, having received these Instructions, proceeds on
his journey. He takes the straight road ahead, reaches the
thick cloud, passes through it, and comes out on the further
side; here he sees a large fine house and goes up to it. He
meets the master of the lunise just connng out. Cogooiv.!
.i/m/.^C What arc you here after?") he asks. The*^child
replies, "I am looking for work." The man savs, AW
ptskzvah' ('< Very well ! come in "). He goes into the house,
and engages with the owner to attend the horses.

Installed in liis new employment, he daily attends punctu-
ally to the duties of the situation, feeding the horses and tend-
ing them {csum-ijc). Not many days have passed, before one
of the horses addresses him in human speech. " My brother,"
he says, " what has brought you here? It is an evil place ; I
was once myself what you are now, and I was set to tend the
horses as you do, until I myself was turned into a horse."
The child answers, "I have come with the design of takin-

you home." He answers, " You will

lever be able to effect

your purpose." He replies, " I will try, however.
And try he does, and succeeds too. One day he as]

ks permis-

sion to take a ride on horseback, and is allowed to do so. He
knows which horse to choose for the excursion ; he brino-s

MIC MAC IXDIAiV LEGENDS.

:,i \

h !.: I

him out, nioiiiits his back, and trots aiul gallops to and fro for
a while, displaying his agility in horsemanship. '1 hen he tells
his brother, "To-morrow we will go home." His brother
replies, " \Vc cannot ilo that, we shall be ov<:rtakcn and
bronght bacU." The little fellow answers, " They will not be
able to overtake us."

The next morning lie again asks and obtains permission to
take a ritle. I-'irst he riiles very slowly back and forth ; but
soon he starts for home, first walking the horse, then starting
him into a trot, and finally into a smart gallop. They arc now
suspected, and parlies are sent after them in great liaste. If
they can pass the cloud, they arc safe ; but before they reach
it the boy looks back, and finds that his pursuers arc rapidly
gaining upon him. He now bethinks liim of the whip the
angel guide had given him, draws it out of his pocket, and
applies it vigorously to his horse's sides. This puts new life
into the animal, which, dashing on with double speed, soon
begins to distance the pursuers, and arriving at last at the
separating cloud, springs into it, passes through it, and is
safe.

lie there meets the man who assisted him in liis work.
" You have brought away your brother!" he exclaims. lie
answers cxultiiigly, " I have." He then tells him not to go
into the village, but to go and pass the night in the woods.
With this he takes ofif his cloak and throws it o\cr his horse.
Then the boy takes the horse into the woods, ties him to a
tree, and lies down to sleep. The next morning he awakes and
sees his brother sitting by, restored to his natural shape ; but
he is naked : whereupon he leaves him, and goes into the
village to beg some clothes for him. These he carries back,
and puts upon his brother.

The heavenly messenger now meets them again, and directs
them to go home, and carry this cloak, with which the horse
had been covered, and put it on their father. Before he dis-
misses them, he gives them a prayer-book. They have never
been taught their prayers. So he opens the book, and calls

TlIK liOV TlhW WAS TRAXSFOR^rED IXTO A //OA'S£.

them to him, and jrivcs tlirm a lesson; thc-y immediately
remember the prayers, and can repeat them correctly.

They then ^'o home. Tlicy enter their father's house, but
arc not recu-nizcd. They throw the cloak over their father's
shoulders. He immediately goes out, and is instantlv trans-
formed into .1 horse. An evil spirit leaps upon his back and
galloi)s off with him.

Then the two boys go out and travel on, but arc not seen
except by a very few, being invisible to all others. They at
length enter a house, and ro up into an upper room. Iii'the
evening they arc again visited by the "angel," who now
appears doul^ly ang.-hc. lie says to them, " Wc will all re-
main together for the night." The ne.xt morning people call
to inquire after them, but they are gone. The doors and
windows arc all fastened, and the boys' clothes are left in the
room; but no tidings can be obtained of the boys.

[The above story was related to me by Joseph Cdodc, a
Micmac Indian, and I wrote it down from his mouth in Al'ic-
mac. It has too much Indian coloring to have been learned
from the white men. The marvellous feats of a " tiny boy,"
as well as the unnatural transformations, are just in harmony
with the wildest Indian mode of thought. But the " an-d "
the "devil," and the "prayer-book" attest to a somewhat
modern invention ; but for all that, the tale is none the less
interesting.

As in the other cases, I simply relate the story according
to the I'.nghsh idiom, not addiiig to or diminishing from any
of the incidents.]

MICMAC INDIAN LEGENDS.

THE MAGICAL FOOD, BELT, AND FLUTE.

li.' 1

I !,

i '*■■

1 r

;.1

[The following storj' has a tinge of modernism abont it.
The actors arc civilized, not savage ; and it ma\' be some
ancient fairy talc, first Icirncd from the whites, and remodelled
by design or accident into the Indian style of the marvellous.
The hero's name given bv the Indian from whose mouth I
wrote the story down as he related it in Micmac, was Jack,
which seems to confirm the suspicion that the tale itself is
not of Indian origin. The discovery of such a tale in the
regions of romance would of course settle the question. I
here give the story as I heard it, trcUislating it from the
INIicmac which lies before me.]

THERE was once a king who owned a large farm in the
neighborhood of the town v,here he resided ; the farm
was cultivated by a man who [)aid rent for it to the king. This
man had but one child, a son, who was considered only about
halfwitted; he was very stupid, and was continually doing
silly things.

After a while his father died ; but as he IukI left a large
store of money, the rent was casih' met for a year or two.
r^inally a paj'-day approached when there was no cash. The
mother consulted with her son as to what was to be done.
" The king will call in a day or two for his mone}-, and we
have none for him. What can we do?" He replies, Loooh'
(" I don't know"). She concludes to select one of the finest
cows, and send the boy off to market to sell it. He agrees
to the proposal, and starts with the cow to market.

I '

ii:

THE MAGICAL FOOD, PELT, AXD FLUTE.

As he drives his animal along, he passes a house stantliiig
near the road ; there is a man on the steps who has come out
to hail him. He inquires, "Where are you going with tiiat
cow? " " I am dri\'ing her to market," Jack answers. " Come
in and rest yourself," says the man, pleasantly. Jack accepts
the invitation, goes in, and sits down. " I want you to
make mc a present of that cow," says the man. " Can't do
it," replies Jack; " but I will b(. gUid to sell her to you, for
we rdc in need of the money." The man replies that he will
not bu\- the cow, but that he wants Jack to make him a pres-
ent of her. Tliis the boy refuses to do. The man asks
if he will have something to eat. lie answers in the affir-
mali\e, and on a tiny dish is set before him a very small
piece of food.^ The boy looks at the f(jod, and ventures to
taste it. lie finds it ver}- palatable, and eats away, but does
not diminisli the amount. After a while the distension of his
stomach indicates that he has eaten sufficiently ; but his appe-
tite is as keen as ever, and the morsel that lies o. the tiny
plate is not in the least diminished. He endeavors to stop
eating, but finds that he cannot do so. He has to keep on
eating, whether he will or not. So he calls out to the man,
"Take away your food." The man coolly answers, "Give
mc >'our cow, aiul I will." The boy answers indignantly,
" I '11 do no .such tiling; take your dish away." "Then cat
on," quietly answers the man; and eat on he docs, until he
begins to think that his whole abdominal region will burst if
he continues much longer. He gives over the contest, cries
for quarter, and yields up the cow. In return he receives the
little dish with the food, undiminished in quantity or qi;ality,
remaining in it. He then returns home with the magical food
in his jjocket.

Arriving at his home, he is questioned as to the success of
his mission. He relates his adventures and says, " I have

' This is .in iinmi.sl;il<nblc Tndi.in st.imp to the story. Their legends delight
in m.Tkino; tiny, insignilicant things perform i;reat wonders.

MICMAC INDIAN LEGENDS.

been robbed of tlic cow." His mother calls him a thousand
fools, upbraids him outrageously, and seizes the fue-shovcl in
order to knock him down. Mo dodges her, however, and
taking a particle of the magical food on the tip of his finger,
adroitly touches her niouth with it as he jumps by her. She
stops instantly, charmed with the exquisite taste, and inquires,
" What is this that tastes so delicious? " Thereupon he hands
the dish over to her; and she falls to eating grecdil}", while
he quietly looks on. lUit soon sensations and difficuUics
similar to those which he had himself exp'jrienced lead her
to call out to him to remove the plate. " Will you beat me
then?" he coolly asks. " I will," exclaims the mother, now
more than ever enraged, finding herself thus caught in a trap.
"Then you may eat awa}'," says the boy. The indignant old
lady eats on, until she can really stand the strain no longer,
when she yields, and promises to lay aside the "rod of cor-
rection ; " then he releases her by removing the tiny platter
and its contents.

The next morning the old lady sends Jack off to market
with anotlier cow. Passing the same house, he is again ac-
costed by the man, who is waiting on the door-step to meet
him ; in the same manner as on the former occasion, the man
makes the modest request that Jack will give him the cow.
Jack, however, has learned some wisdom by his late adventure,
and has no idea of repeating the experiment. Jii^nlaJisc ivinsit
("Be off with you, you evil spirit"), he exclaims. "You
robbed me yesterday ; you 're not going to do it again to-
da}-;" and he hurries on. The man takes off his belt, and
throws it down in the middle of the road. Instantly the belt
leaps up around both Jack and his cow, binds the animal's
legs fast to her body, and lashes the boy to her side.
There they lie, unable to stir. ApkivaJdc! (" Untie me ! '')
shouts the struggling boy. " Give me your cow and I will,"
the man answers. " I won't do it," says Jack. " Then lie
there ! " is the answer. lUit the belt, like a huge boa-con-
strictor, begins to contract, and to press upon Jack and his

THE MAGICAL FOOD, BELT, AXD FLUTE.

:lt

ie
n-
lis

cow, so that they can scarcely draw their breath. At length
the poor fellow gives up the cow, is unfastened, receives the
magic belt in return, and goes home. He informs his mother
that the same man has again robbed him. The old woman is
now more angry than ever. .She calls him hard names,
threatens to beat and even to kill him, and searches for a
suitable weapon ; then Jack unclasps his belt, casts it upon
the floor, and instantly the poor woman is bound hand and
foot, and calls lustily to be r .leased. Jack looks on and says,
MixtacdiksWi? (" Will you beat me, then .' ") " Yes, I will,"
she screams; " untie me, you dog ! " Jack pulls the magic
cord z, little tighter round her, and the violence of her wrath
abates; she begins to gasp, and promises if he will let her go
she will not beat him. Thereupon he unties her, and she
keeps her word.

The difficulty still remains ; the rent is not yet paid, and
the mother determines to make one more attempt to sell a
cow. Away goes the boy again towards the town, driving the
*hird animal, when the same man again encounters him with
the same proposal. "Give me your cow." "Give you my
cow, indeed ! " exclaims the boy in wrath. "I '11 give a stone
and hurl it at your head." He is about to suit the action to
the word, w!\en the man pulls out a tiny flute and begins to
play on it. Jack's muscles instantly contract in different
directions; the stone drops from his hand, and, literally
charinctl with the music, he begins to dance. The cow joins
in the jig; and lioth dance awa\- witli all their might, unable
to stop. " Hold ! hold ! " he exclaims at length ; " stop your
music ! Let me get my breath ! " " Give me your cow, and
I will," answers the man. " I won't do it," Jack replies.
"Then dance awa}- ! " is the answer; and the poor fellow
dances until he is ready to drop from very weariness. He
then yields, gives up the cow, receives the magic flute, and
returns to his mother to report his ill success for the third
time. This time the old woman's rage knows no bounds.
She will kill him outright. P)Ut while she is in the act of

ri::

MICMAC INDIAN LEGENDS-

springing upon him with some deadly weapon, he com-
menccs ojicrations on his magical flute. The old lady is
enchanted with the music, drops her weapon, and begins to
dance, but retains her wrath, and long persists in her deter-
mination to deal summary vengeance upon the boy. Again
and again she orders him to cease, playing ; but in answer to
his interrogatory, jMataediiJcstuJi ? ("Will you beat me then ? ")
she answers, " Indeed I will." Soon she becomes so weary
that she can scarcely keep on her feet, but sways to and fro,
almost sinking. Finally she falls and strikes her head with
great force. She yields, and promises to let him alone, and
he withdraws the enchantment of his music.

There was another effect produced by the magic flute when
the man who met Jack commenced playing ; no sooner had
the boy and cow begun to dance, than they were joined by
a great swarm of hornets. These hornets hovered over
them, and danced in concert in the air; they followed the
fluLe; whenever it played they came, but they were invisible
to all eye?, except those of the musician, and his commands
and wishes they implicitly obeyed.

The difficulty of paying the rent remains. The mother is
still in trouble about it; but the boy quiets her fears, and
undertakes to manage the affair. "To-day," she says, " the
king will be here. What can we do? " He says to her, " I '11
pay him; give yourself no uneasiness." He then takes a lot
of earthen dishes and smashes them up fine, packs the pieces
into a bag, and fills it so full that he can scarcely tie it up,
then seals the strings with ufkoo-guin}

Presently a carriage containing the king himself and two
servants drives up to the door. They have come to collect
the rent. They enter the house, and the terrified old
woman runs and hides. The bo}', however, meets them at
the door, and politely conducts them to a seat. They sit
down and wait, and he immediately fetches them what seems
to be a well-filled money-bag, and sets it down on the table,

1 Upkoo-gum, wa.x, tar, or any adhesive substance.

THE MAGICAL FOOD, BELT, AXD FLUTE.

id
ie
'11

•Q

.Ct

le,

making it rattle and chink like a bag of money,' as he sets it
down.

He then produces his little magic platter and food, and
gravely informs the king that his father, before he died, had
given him instructions to set that before his IMajesty as a
portion of exquisitely delicious food. The king takes the bait
and falls into the trap ; he first tastes a morsel, then falls to
eating, and the two servants join him. Meanwhile the boy
seems to be very busy getting ready to count out the cash,
bustling round, going into another room where he remains a
good while, then coming out and lifting up the bag, and, as
if having forgotten something, going back into some ot'.ier
apartment of the house.

Meanwhile the king and his servants become gorged with
the food; but they can neither refrain from eating, nor push
away from the enchanted platter. They call to thi.: boy to
come and remove his dish ; but he is altogether too busy to
hear or to notice them. Meanwhile their troubles increase.
Their stomachs become distended beyond endurance, and
they are glad to purchase a respite by giving up rent, house,
stock, farm, and all. On these conditions the dish and food
are removed, and the king and his retinue return to the palace,
leaving the good people in quiet possession of everything.

After they have retired, the old woman, who has been
watching the manoeuvres from her hiding-place, comes out,
and this time praises her boy for his adroitness. lie makes
over all the property to her, and starts off to seek his fortune
and a wife, taking with him the enchanted dish, belt, and flute.

So he travels on, and finally arrives at a town where a king
resides who has one beautiful d.uighter. She has many
suitors, for the king has promised her hand to the first one
who will make her laugh three times in succession. Now, it
happens that our hero is very ill-shaped, ugly-looking, and
awkward, and can, by a little affectation, make himself appear

^ Money in all the AhtookivSkitm th.it [ h.nve seen is coin, not paper, — which
indicates a somewhat ancient date to the story.

MIC MAC IXniAiY I.EGEA'DS.

hi I

much more so than lie really is. ITc strolls about the city,
hears the current gossip, and learns about the domestic
arrangements of the palace. So one day he strolls into the
king's palace among the other suitors and visitors, and looks
round at everything, and soon attracts the attention of the
servants, who inquire what his business is there. At first he
makes no reply. JJut he knows that, according to rule, unless
he answers the third challenge, he will be summarily ejected.
So he answers the second time. " Is it irue, as I have heard,
that the princess will marry the f'-st man who can make her
laugh three times in succession?" Me is told that it is true,
and he says he wishes to make the trial. So he is allowed to
remain in the palace.

Being admitted into the apartment where the young lady
is in waiting, surrounded by her suitors, who are to be umpires
in the trial, he first brings out his magical disli with the en-
chanted food, and requests her to examine and Uiste it. She
does this cautiously, following the bent of ci riosity, and finds
the taste so agreeable that she continues to eat, and offers it to
the others, who also cat. To their astonishment the quantity
of food does not diminish in the platter, nor docs the taste
become any less exquisite, although their distended stomachs
protest against any further infliction. Finally the protesta-
tions of the gastric regions overcome the clamors of the
palate, and they attempt to stop eating and to push away the
plate. But they can do neither the one nor the other, and
so call upon the youth to take away his food. He will do so,
but upon one condition: The princess must langJi. She hesi-
tates ; she had only thought of laughing from pleasure, not
from pain. She refuses to compl)^ but he '\t inexorable; she
may do what she pleases. — laugh, or continre to cat. Finally
site can hold out no longer, and she laughs, .'.aying to herself,
" He '11 not make me laugh a second time." As soon as he
releases them from the enchantment of the food, they fly
furiously at him to expel him from the palace. But they
" reckon without their host." Quick as lightning he unclasps

THE MAGICAL FOOD, HELT, AXD FLUTE.

tho nin;.;ic belt, tosses it on tlic floor, and instanti}' tlicj' arc
all buiuul toLTcthcr in a binullc wcnind round from licad to
foot, and lie in a helpless heap before him. " Untie us,"
shouts the tiu-Liirctl and terrifu'd princess. OosNi^dwdy'tn
(" LauL;h, then "), he coolly answers. But no, she will not
lau;4h. Hut he knows how to brinj; her to terms. He has
l)ut to will it, antl the obeilient belt will tiL;hten its embrace.
When she and her !:;uartlians can endure the prt. sure no
longer, she gives forth a forced and feeble laugh. Then they
arc all released. No sooner done, than the men draw their
weapons and rush furiouslj' at him. Ik'fore they r(;ach the
spot where he stands, however, he has the magic flute to his
lips ; their ste|)s are arrested, and princess, suitors, lunpircs,
guards, and all are wheeling in the mazy dance. They are
charmed, not figuratively but literally, with the music of the
tiny magic (lute.

At length they grow tired of the exercise, and wiinly en-
deavor to stop; but they cannot do it. "Stop )-our play-
ing! " they shout. " I will,"' he answers, "when the princess
laughs." But she determines that she will not laugh this
time, come what may. But the stakes are for a princess and
a kingdom, and he will not yield. She dances till she can no
longer stand. She falls upon the floor, striking it heavily
with her head. She then yields to her fate, performs her part
nobly, and gives forth, tckoo wcskdwiikc (" a hearty Inugh ").
The music then ceases, tlie umpires are left to decide the
case, and the young man walks awa\' and leaves them.

The news of the affair reaches the ears of the king, and he
commands that the young man shall be introduced into his
presence. This is done ; and the king is disgusted with the
looks and manners of the \oung man, and declares the con-
tract null and void. 15ut the matter must be hushed up, and
not allowed to get abroad. The " victor " is to be privately
despatched, and another more suitable match substituted in his
place. I^y the king's direction the stranger is seized, con-
veyed to the menagerie, and thrown in with the beasts. This

! I

Jlf/CA/AC INlUAiX I.EGEXDS.

,1:

I :

I''
1(1 . ' i

'^ ''

t ;

is a larj^c apartment surrounded by liicjh walls. The ferocious
animals rush upon him ; but the magic belt is tossed down,
and they are all tied up in a heap, their legs being bound fast
to their bodies, while he sits quietly down awaiting the issue
of events in one corner of the j'ard.

Mcanwliile word is circulated that one of the suitors at the
royal palace has won the princess's hand, and the wedding is
to be celebrated that vety evening. " All goes merrily as a
marriage-bell," until the hour arrives for the bridegroom to
be introduced into the bridal chamber. There the whole
affair is quashed. Hosts of invisible foes are tliere who have
entered at the key-hole, and are waiting to vindicate the inno-
cent, defend his rights, and punish the intruder. The victo-
rious Jack has taken his flute and called the troops of hornets
to his aid ; he bids them enter the key-hole and wait until his
rival has unrobed, and then ply him with their tiny weapons
about his lower extremities. This they do; and the poor
fellow, unable to see the hornets, but fully able to feel their
stinging, begins to jimip and scream like a madman. The
terrified princess rushes out of the room, and screams for
help. The domestics run to lier assistance, and she declares
that the bridegroom is a maniac. They, hearing his screams
and witnessing his contortions of countenance, and unable to
learn the cause, come to the same conclusion, and hurry away
from the palace. Another bridegroom is substituted, who
sliares the same fate. The king at length concludes that he
is outgcnerallcd ; that the young man who has won the hand
of his daughter still lives; that he must be a remarkable per-
sonage, possessed of miraculous powers. He sends to the
menagerie for him. The animals are all tied up; but a thick
mist fills the place, and they cannot see the young man.
They attemj^t to release the beasts, but find this impossible.
They bring the report to the king. " Ay," said he, " it is just
as I said ; he is a necromancer, a remarkable man. Go again,
seek him carefully, and if you can find him bring him in."
This time they find him. They recognize him ; but he is now

THE MAGlCAf. FOOD, HELT, AXD FLUTE. 43

transformed into a most lovely person. All admire his portly
bearing and his polished manners. The \ve1Idin5r is consum-
mated with great pomp. lie builds a splendid palace, and,
when the old king dies, is crowned in his place.
And now a long and prosperous reign.

[This last sentence is added as a finishing touch by the
translator.]

MIC MAC INDIAN LEGENDS,

II :. 1

VII.

THE HISTORY OF USITEHULAJOO.

lil

A TALE OF ANXIENT TIMES.

'' I ^HERK were once two Indian families livinfj near to-
-'- ^ulher. The name of one of the men was Pulowech
(Birch rartrid;j[e), and th.at of the other W'cechiik' (Spruce
Partridge), l^acli had a large family. One severe winter
they were greatly straitened for food. Wecchiik' lost all
his children but two, and finally died himself His wife sur-
vived. Pulowech' lost his wife and all his children, so he
married the widow of Wcechuk'; she had two chiklren, a son
and a daughter. Pulowech' used to hunt and provide for his
wife and step-children.

One da}' he did not succeed in obtaining any game, and so
he cut the flesh from his back and brought it home. They
cooked and ate it. Another day, when he had like ill-luck,
he cut the flesh from the calves of his legs and broucrht that
home. This also was cooked and eaten.

After supper the old man lies down and goes to sleep.
While he lies there, his wife discovers that he has removed
the flesh from his back and the calves of his legs, and she
says to herself "Ah! have I been eating your flesh? I'll
go away and leave }-ou to-morrow." So the next morning
Pulowech' goes out as usual to his hunting. After he has
gone his wife washes and dresses herself in her best apparel,
and makes herself so pretty that her very eyes are red and
';parkling. Then she pulls up her door post, and goes down
the hole into an underground passage, telling her children to

Tin: HISTORY of uslTEnf-i.7ijoo,

close the passaj^c after her h)' re-insortin!:;; the (l(icir-[)()st, She
travels on a luiv^ cUrilance, comes to .i ii\rr which she follows
tlowii, and t'liiall)- reaches an Indian villa;.;e, where tln're are
man)- wigwams. She enters the lirst wigwam she comes to,
where she Ihuls seated ow the i^ronnd an old woniiUi named
MuoIn"is(|iie ; ^ she sees also a boy whose name is Abista-
nfiooch (Marten). The old woman directs her to \^o over to
the wigwam of the chief. She dcjcs so ; the chief's wife re-
ceives her kindly, calls lu.'r her tiauyhler-in-law, and introdnces
her to their sun, who takes iier for his wife, and she remains
with him.

When lur former husband, I'ulowech', re'turns at evening
from hunting, he iiuiuires of his ste[)-children, " What has
become of }'our mother? " They say, " We ilo not know."
He goes off in search of her. After he is gone the little girl
sa)'s to her brother, " Come on I Let us wash ourselves, and
go out and see if we cannot find our nK^ther." Ife agrees
to the proposal ; they get ready, i)ull up the door-post, go
down into the underground passage, follow on, and come out
at last to JSIcskcck oodun (the large Indian town). The little
girl tells her brother not to speak to their mother :ihould they
discover her, but wait and see what she will say or do.

So, arri\ing at the town, they enter the first wigwam they
come to and make inquiries. The old woman, Mrs. Bear,
tells them that a stranger arrived there some lime before,
and that she went to the chief's wigwam, where she still is.
They inform her that this stran'^er is their mother. " I'hit
do not let her know," say they, " that we have come." The
old woman tells them that she has no food to give them.
"But," she says, " go over to the chief's wigwam, and there
you may succeed in obtaining a little." So the two children
go over to the chief's wigwam ; on entering, they see their
mother sitting there, but she takes no notice of them. vXfter
a while the mother rises, takes down some lean meat ami

1 Moohiusnu', the wife of Mooin, the bear. An exact translation into the
English idiom would be " Mrs. IJear. "

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MIC MAC INDIAN LEGENDS.

some fat, and gives it to them, telling them to go somewhere
else and roast it. So they take the meat and go back to the
first wigwam which they had entered, and there, together wiih
the little boy Marten, they cook their dinner and eat it. They
do not go back to sec their mother, but remain where they
are.

The next day pooi ,.J Pulowech' arrives in search of his
wife ; but she has no idea of going back. She recommends
to her present husband to rally his men, seize and kill this
stranger, take ofif his skin, dress it, and make a door- blanket
of it. This counsel is followed. The old man is seized and
killed ; his hide is taken off, and made into a door-blanket.
Wccchukeskw (VVeechuk's wife, or, in English phraseology,
Mrs. VVccchuk) next cautions the people against those two
strange children that have arrived. " Just such an event
once .lappened," she says, " in my former place of residence.
Two strange children came there, and were kindly enter-
tained ; but they turned out to be evil geniuses, who cut off
the supplies of game by witchcraft ; so that all the people
came near perishing with starvation. Take these two chil-
dren," she adds, " and tie them together by the legs. Do not
attempt to kill them, but hang them up on a tree; then let us
all remove, leaving them hanging there."

This advice is taken. The two children are tied together
by the heels, back to back ; a tree is bent down, they are
fastened to it, and are left dangling in the air.

The whole village pack up and remove, " bag and baggage."
Little Marten is on the watch. He sees the old lady, his
grandmother, lighting a piece of touch-wood, and carefully
hiding it away to preserve some fire against the time of need.
After all have gone, little Marten begs his grandmother to
have compassion on his two little comrades, and allow him to
let them down. She consents ; and he goes to them, kindles
a fire at the bottom of the tree and burns it down, then piles
up moose-hair for them to fall upon ; then by a vigorous ap-
plication of his teeth and nails, he soon loosens the knots and

THE HISTORY OF USITEDULAJOO.

sets them at liberty. At this stage in the story the boy is
named. He is called Usitcbulajoo (hanged up by the heels).
The two remain in the deserted village to shift for themselves ;
but Usttcbulajoo asks the old woman with whom they have
stayed to remember them in future time. " Pity us, poor
creatures," he says; "and when the heavy snows of winter
fall, sweep it away from before your door, and we shall derive
the benefit."

So the people of the village travel on three da}'S before
they encamp. They then pitch their tents, and soon raise a
large village of wigwams. But they cannot escape the pun-
ishment of their cruelty to strangers and orphans. The Great
Spirit is angry and sends them no game, and they are soon
reduced to extremities : kdivcsooltijlk (they suffer from hun-
ger). The cruel mother, however, has no idea of taking
the blame to herself. She blames, or affects to blame, for it
all those two evil spirits, those necromancers, her own little
children.

The two children, however, are not left uncarcd for. First
they live on small game. They kill mice, roast and eat the
flesh, and make clothing of the skins. Afterwards they suc-
ceed with larger game. They pray for rabbits; and the
rabbits flock into their wigwam, and are easily taken and
killed. Their skins are also made into clothing. The little
girl does this work, and soon presents her brother with a
coat made of this warmer and more substantial material.

After a time the boy asks of Keswolk (the Great Spirit ;
the Creator, literally) to allow them to grow up at once
into a man and a woman. That evening the boy draws into
the wigwam two logs of wood as large round and as long as a
man. He then says to his sister: Nnmccs (" My sister), after
I lie down and get to sleep, do you stand these logs up, one at
my head and the other at my feet. In the morning, I shall
get up and make a fire; when I first call you, do not rise.
When you hear me say, ' Sister, the fire is all out,' do not
mind ; but lie still. After a good long while, however, get up."

''k,^0Si^hi^igii^mMMi&Mm

MICMAC IXDIAN LEGENDS.

\ ?

Slic attends carefully to these directions, and when she
arises the next morning, her brother has grown up, sure
enough, to the full size of a man.

That evening he stands the logs up at her head and feet,
and the next morning she has grown up sUlga dbltos (like
a young woman).

Now, then, Usltebulajoo prepares for himself deadly weap-
ons of a more effectual kind. He makes a spear and arrows
with stone heads. Having prepared his weapons he says to
his sister, Niimccs, sabonook Hskitpoonook ^ntoogoolcan' (" to-
morrow, early in the morning, when I go a hunting"), akiida-
glskuk upkcstntHs (" and return at mid-day "), tllca} tiifcinoolan,
tooyii (" although I shall say to you, 'Come out' "),viooiiktoocozu
("do not come out"). "After I have called to j'ou three
times, then come out." The next morning, accordingly,
he gets up very early and goes away to his hunting;
at akudigiskuk (mid-day), he returns, and his sister hears
a great trampling and shouting outside; her brother is
C's\\\\i<g, Numecs, tooyti abogHiifivioor ! Q'^sly sister, come out
and help me ! ") She keeps quiet according to orders and
lets him call once, twice, three times, as loud as he can:
" Come out and help me ! " Then all is quiet, and she has
still waited a long time. She goes out, and lo I there is her
brother sitting astride of a moose, and there arc piles of dead
moose and caribou lying there slaughtered ; her brother
is covered with blood, the plain proof of his labors as a
butcher. He has brought home his drove and butchered
them at his door, which saves the trouble of taking home
the meat. Wclcdahsit abttasc (The girl is much pleased).

Immediately they both go to work to skin the animals,
slice the meat, and dry it in flakes, it being the girl's part of
the work to do the cutting up and the drying. They have
now a large quantity of food. They have also a bounti-
ful supply of iitkwagi'tncine (marrow, tried out from the
crushed bone), and kiimdd' (tallow, tried out and preserved
in cakes).

THE HISTORY OF USITEDULAJOO.

One of the uses to which the young hidy applies the tallow
is to adorn her person. She uses it for hair-oil, and uses it
freely. Her hair flows down < ^r her shoulders, and becomes
stiffened around her with tallow, into pedoogooich, uiema kii-
moouh ^ (a regular white cloak). This singular toilet arrange-
ment receives in the story a still more singular explanation.
It is done to suit the taste of her lover, for she has attracted
one to her magical bower. He comes in the shape and form
and with the habits of mootn wopskzu (a huge white bear).
He is a man, however, — a magician, who assumes this form.
Their meetings are carried on on the sly. The place of
assignation is some distance from the lodge, on the borders
of a lake. There Sir Mooln Wopskw awaits her approach.
He quietly and very lovingly licks off all the tallow from her
head ; then she returns to attend to her domestic duties,
but says nothing to her brother of this new object of attraction
and attention, by whom she has been enchanted.

Meanwhile the Indians who had taken the advice of the
cruel mother, and had forsaken the children in their appar-
ently helpless condition, are suffering all the rigors of
continued famine. After a while an old woman named
Ka'kakooch (Crow) leaves the rest, and returns to the
deserted village in quest of food. She hopes to find the two
partridges there, and to make a meal of them. What is her
astonishment, on approaching the place, to see smoke arising
out of the wigwam ! Her astonishment is increased by the
discovery of such vast quantities of meat lying there in the
flakes. Madame Crow, true to her nature (for individuals or
tribes retain largely the character of the animals whose name
they bear), does not wait to be invited, and does not ask leave,
but commences operations on the dried meat. The girl jjoes
out, sees what is going on, and tells her brother, Uchkecn (" My
brother"), mtjesit ka'kakooch koojiimoogi'i (" the crow is eating
out of doors "). He replies, N&mees?, plskwacK (" My sister,

^ The uh at the end of a word simply makes the caseterminative: that is, the
end of a sentence.

MICMAC INDIAN LEGENDS.

let her come in"). So the girl invites her in, and furnishes
her with food. Then taking a portion of the entrails of the
animals, she winds them carefully around the shoulders of
her guest, so that she can carry them home conveniently.
She then charges her to tell no one, but to go home and feed
her children. She is directed to gather mushrooms as she
goes, and to show them to the neighbors if they happen in
while the children are eating, and tell them that these are
all that she has for them. She promises compliance and
goes home. She prepares the portion for her children, and
they eagerly feed tipon what is brought. The other Indians
sec that this woman is feeding her children, and they send
a little girl as a spy over to her wigwam to find out what is
going on, and to report accordingl)'. She sees nothing but
the mushrooms, and goes back and tells this.

There is another family which is, however, well supplied.
Little Marten and the kind old grandmother lose nothing by
the kindness they have showed to the deserted orphans.
They are bountifully supplied by the skill and magical
prowess of those they have rescued from destruction, — so
deeply seated in the human consciousness is the idea that
virtue is rewarded and vice punished.

In the mean time Usitebiilajoo has an abundant supply.
But he observes that the cakes of tallow diminish very rap-
idly, and he inquires the cause. The girl assures him that
she has eaten it. The next morning in his hunting excursion
he ascends a high hill which overlooks the lake where Sir
Mooin's haunt is. What is his surprise to see his sister
walk out and take her seat near the lake, and soon after to
see the huge white bear come out of a copse, walk up to her,
and commence his loving caresses. Having finished his meal,
he retires, and she goes home. When her brother returns at
evening, he asks for an explanation. TaladegSt niit mooXnf
("What is this bear about? Why do you allow him to lick
your head?") She replies, " Should I not allow this, he
would kill us both." " Well, then," says her brother, " to-

* \

THE HISTORY OF VSITEBULAJOO.

morrow I will go out with you, and wc '11 sec how it
will be."

So the next morning he takes a quantity of tallow and melts
it, and applies it to her flowing tresses, stiffening them into a
tallow cloak around her shoulders. Then taking his bow and
a good supply of liit cahmun (flint-headed arrows), they
go out together to meet Sir MooTn VVopskw. He arranges
his sister so that from the place of his concealment he can
have a fair shot at the bear's heart. Nor docs he have to
wait long. The huge monster soon makes his appearance ;
and, all unconscious of the trap that is set for him, applies
his tongue to his favorite food, the tallow. A twang and a
whiz send an arrow straight into his heart; but white bears,
and some black ones, are exceedingly tenacious of life. This
part of the fiction is therefore in harmony with fact, when the
Ahtookwdkiin .fToes on to state that not until six arrows are
shot into him does he die. They then proceed to strip off
his white mantle, and to reduce his huge fat carcass to dimen-
sions suitable for conveyance to the wigwam. The girl's part
of the labor is, as usual, to slice up the meat and dry it.

In the mean time Madame Crow comes fiequcntly over to
her neighbors in quest of food (jihiookslktiimat). She cannot
long conceal her success from those around her; th?y come
suddenly in upon her, and see her supply of provisions. Where-
upon she flics up and utters the familiar cry, Cah ! cah ! cah !
Usttcbiilcijooglk w^stclsiineek (" The two children you hanged
on a tree are safe and sound "). They wonderingly inquire,
T&looct ? (" What does she say? ") Those who have under-
stood her words explain them to the rest, — Usitebulajoo and
his sister are all right, alive, and well ! and off goes Mrs.
Crow. Having learned how the case stands, the whole village
remove next day, and return to their former place. It is
evening when they arrive. They find one wigwam inhabited,
and sure enough there is UsItSbulajoo living in luxury.
Moolnaskw (Mrs. Bear) and her little boy Ablstanaooch (Mar-
ten) enter, and meet with a very cordial reception. Not so the

MICMAC INDIAN LEGENDS.

rest. Mrs. Partridge, their mother, goes in ; but they take no
notice of her. She reminds them that she is their mother, but
they are deaf to all she says. She uncovers her bosom, and re-
minds them that she has fed them from her gentle breast and
hushed them in her arms to rest. They say nothing in reply.
In their hearts they say, " Yes, and afterwards you would
have killed us if you could." So she goes out and returns to
her own wigwam. After her departure, UsItSbulajoo directs
his sister to send round a portion of food to each family. So
she rises and takes a portion of the bear's meat, both fat and
lean pieces, which she sends round to each. But little Marten
and his grandmother are entertained on the best fare in their
own quarters. He luxuriates on the soft skins in which he
rolls himself. He feasts on the fat of the land; pieces of
moose and caribou meat carefully roasted are set before him.
All eat enormously. Even little Marten is made sick, and
gets little rest during the night; but he is all right in the
morning. Not so the others. They gorge themselves with
the meat of the white bear. But vengeance no longer sleeps.
There are magic and poison in the food. They fall asleep,
and it is their last sleep ; they never awake. In the morning
every one lies dead. Then UsTtebtilajoo and his sister move
from the place. They leave Moolnaskw and her little boy in
possession of the camp and all the food. They promise
to return and supply them when this is all gone.

Meanwhile the two travellers move on until night overtakes
them ; w^lahk kHkoonijlk (at evening they halt for the night).
Early the next morning they start again, and at evening they
come out to the sea. There they take up their abode, and
IJsItebulajoo erects a large wigwam. He goes into the forest,
as he has done in the other place, drives up the moose and
caribou to his door, and performs the same process of butch-
ering them, thus saving the labor and trouble of carrying
home the meat, as ordinary mortals are obliged to do. But
trouble awaits him also. There are other Indians in the
neighborhood, and he is soon considered a trespasser. The

i i

THE HISTORY OF USITEBULAJOO.

hunters discover that the moose have been driven away from
their usual haunts. There is evidently in their estimation
something wrong. It is determined to search into the matter,
and six young men start on the expedition, and soon come
upon the large mcskeck (wigwam). They are kindly en-
tertained and feasted. Night comes on, but they will not
consent to remain there. They promise, however, to repeat
their visit the next day. They return to their own town
and make their report. A council is called, and the elders
consider what is to be done. After a while a veteran, a
boooin, a powwow, explains the case, and tells them what
they can do and what they cannot do. They cannot kill
him, for he has a charmed life ; but they can pit magic against
magic, and may, if they manage shrewdly, confine him, and
thus prevent his further depredations. Open force is of no
avail; they must have recourse to artifice. If they can suc-
ceed in gc\X\x\^ c/iepichkaatn^ oosiimool (di dragon's horn) in-
serted into his hair, it will enlarge, wind round a tree, and
hold him fast. This scheme they resolve to carry into efifect.
So about noon the next day the six young men return to
Usitebulajoo's wigwam. A feast is provided for them, and
after the meal is over they sit and talk. While they are talk-
ing, the visitors draw out the dragon's horns. Each young
man takes two horns in his hand, — a red one and a yellow
one; while they talk they carefully adjust the horns to their
heads, one on each side. They offer their host a couple in
a friendly way. But the girl takes the alarm. She sees
through the plot, and whispers to him to beware. " Do not
touch the horns ; they '11 be your death ! " But, alas ! who
can resist the influence of fashion? This slavery is in all ages
and places the same. One may as well be out of the world
as out of fashion, whether in civilized or savage life. He
must do as the rest do, even though he die. This he whis-
pers back to her. Niimecs {" My sister "), he says, ^jdahdoo

^ The chepichkaam is a huge horned serpent, wanting only the wings to be
our fabulous dragon.

MIC MAC INDIAN LEGENDS.

(" I cannot help it"). TantHadakadeidUh nlgiimak (" What my
comrades do "), mcamooch tHadega (" I sliall ccitainly do ").

So he takes one of the dragon's horns and inserts it in his
hair ; but he cannot take it out. While they sit there the horn
grows up, pierces through the top of the wigwam, and winds
round and round a tree, holding liim hard and fast. Then the
strangers, having succeeded in their magical stratagem, take
their departure. After they are gone, the poor girl gives vent
to her feelings in a flood of tears. She says, Uchkcai, nabaskik
(" My brother, they have killed you"). Then she attempts
to set him free. She first takes a wdkiin (knife), and com-
mences sawing upon the horn ; but the horn is so hard that
the knife makes no impression upon it. Then she tries a
stone, but all to no purpose. Finally she tries a clam-shell.
This makes some impression; it scratches the horn a little.
Every morning she goes out and gathers clam-shells, and then
continues her melancholy task during the livelong day, mak-
ing but sorry progress. But after a while the clam-shells in
the immediate neighborhood fail, and she has to go far out on
a kzvtsawel (extended point of land ) for them. She fills her
lap and returns to her work; and when they are used up, she
goes back for more.

One very fine day she sat down, out on the point of land,
to rest herself awhile ; and presently she fell asleep. While
she slept a whale swimming by becomes enamoured of the
sleeping beauty, seizes, and carries her ofi". She is far out at
sea when she awakes, and can scarcely discern the shore. At
evening they land and go up to a large wigwam, where the
new-comers see an old man and a young woman sitting. The
old man greets her cordially, calls her 'Ntlooswdskw {" My
daughter-in-law "), and she becomes the wife of his son Boo-
tup (the whale), who has stolen her and run away with
her.' She remains ; for, alas ! she has no power to help her-

• This whale is a man. In harmony \ '•*h the explanation already given re-
specting names, the whale would be a sea-^oing race, islanders, living far out to
sea, and fond of this mode of life.

K**"

THE HISTORY OF USITEIKLAJOO.

self. But she often goes down to the seaside and looks
anxiously in the direction of her former home, where her
unfortunate brother is confined and imprisoned. Her sister-
in-law observes that she often weeps, and at length learns the
cause. Hootupaskw (Mrs. Whale), as we may now call her
for convenience, relates the whole affair, — how she has a
brother, away across on the other shore, confined by a mag-
ical horn to a tree ; how he was fastened there by some young
men who came to their wigwam ; and how in her endeavors
to release him, she had been stolen away and carried to this
distant island home. Her sister-in-law is moved by her sor-
rowful tale, and promises to assist her in making her escape ;
she promises, moreover, to help her release her brother. If
she can procure some red ochre, and make a circle with
it round the horn, the magical power will be broken, and
the horn will snap off. Hut to procure this red ochre is the
difficulty. It can be obtained only from a great distance, A
little shrewd planning obviates the difficulty. Time has
already passed, and among other changes has introduced a
dear little boy into the Whale's family ; the little fellow is his
father's pet; he can cry lustily when he wants anything, and
he can talk a little; his father will do anything to please
him. So with the combined influence of magic and careful
drilling he is taught to cry and utter as he cries, WHnki'ijuh !
weuknjuh ! (" Red ochre I red ochre ! ") and to do it with
especial emphasis when his father comes in in the evening.
The father wonders what has got into the child that he should
cry so. TaladHg^t mJjooahjeeck (" What is the matter with
baby"), tNentkeJemit ("that he cries so")? he asks. The
mother replies, " He is crying for some red ochre." He says
to him, "Stop your crying ; I '11 bring you some to-morrow."
He accordingly brings home some red ochre, and the little
fellow is greatly pleased with it.

The next move is to get the old whale out of the way, so
that the two women may slip ofif unperceived and unmolested
to return to the mainland where poor Usitebulajoo is con-

.-•*■

MICMAC INDIAN LEGENDS.

lined. The baby is next taufjht to cry fur a piece of the red
cloud in the west at sunset. His father tells him that this is
a difficult task, as it is so far to t;o, but he will start early and
get some for him. About midniyht he starts on his western
expedition for a piece of the red cloud ; and when he is fairly
gone the two women take the babe and go too, but make for
a different point. The way is long; it is a long time before
the land is in sight, but they do see it at last ; they no sooner
sec the land than they sec behind them indications that
they are pursued by the husband and father. They see the
water spouting up as the whale comes up to breathe, and they
observe that the next time he rises he is iittUgCt-nahjik (much
nearer). They spring to, wield their paddles dexterously,
and are rapidly ncaring the land; but the pursuer is rapidly
gaining upon them. Some of the baby's things arc thrown
out to attract his attention and detain him, — his clothes, his
dear little cap, his moccasins, and his coat. When the old
whale comes up to these, he swims round them again and
again, crying bitterly, and then rushes on after the flying
canoe. Then the mother takes the iitkcudktin, ak kopcsoonul
(cradle and cradle-clothes), and tosses them overboard. The
father stops again and weeps over these awhile, swimming
round and round them, uttering cries and lamentations. Now
the canoe reaches the shore, and they are safe ; one leap places
them on term firma. He seizes the canoe with his teeth and
vents his rage on that, crushing it to atoms. Hut he cannot
pursue the fugitives any farther. He calls for his wife to
come back, or at least to leave the child. She will do neither
the one nor the other. Him she docs not love and never did,
but she cannot help loving her babe. Alas for Mr. Whale !
he turns sorrowfully away and goes home crying.

The women go up into the woods. Usitebulajoo's sister
says to her maktcmUl (sister-in-law), " Do not go to see my
brother; kindle a fire and warm the baby, for he Is cold.
Let me go to my brother." She enters the wigwam ; he is
there still, alive and well ; for as he had plenty of provisions

(

THE niSTOHV Ob VSlTt.liULAJOO.

at the time he was fastened, he had not hicked for food, lint
the \vi<^f\vani and his whole person are in a sail comhlion.
His sister soon applies the potent xvcnkitch to the horn, and
instantly it sna[)s and he is free. Me can hardly stand; slu-
has to hold him op. He rapidly recovers his stren<;lh. They
^o down to the shot" and slic washes him thoroughly, clothes
him, and then brinj^s .'.im up and introduces him to her sister-
in-law, and he takes her for a wife. She promises to remain
with him forever, but upon this condition. — that he shall take
her quite away from the shore, and nev' brin^ her in si^dit
of it aijain. MooHalni'ni uktanook (" If you do not take n>e to
the sea-shore "), tllcc^ nasin-skugeb^\ ikiik, tifllpk\i -.vh^iuiuxdc-
diiksiitioo' ("althou^di it should be thirty v'cai;,, so lon^ will I
! e your wife "). He afjrecs to this arran;jehiont. " I will never
brinfj you to the sea-shore." So h'-' prr>inises. A\i sokogzvU-
daltjlk (Now, then, they go up from the shore into the
forest).

There they dwell. They construct a large wigwam. UsT-
tcbulajoo hunts as usual, and the women dress the meat and
take care of the house.

In due time inljooalijccchaik (a babe) is added to the house-
hold, the heir of Usttebulajoo. Provisions are supi)licd in
abundance. The two boys grow up and play together. By
and by Bootupusees (young whale) informs his playfellow
that he has a father living, and that his home is on the deep.
NcciDiooch ("My father"), ahbaktook di'k {" i?, out at sea").
Ki'c/ kooch kii^unak (" Your father is here, in the wigwam ").

After a time they conclude to remove to some other place.
While they are threading their way through the forest a storm
arises, the rain falls in torrents, and a dense fog shuts in.
UsItSbulajoo cannot see the usual marks, and loses his way.
The whole company go astray; they are turned about. After
wandering on for a while they encamp for the night, and a fire
is built. Supper is prepared and eaten, and they he down
and sleep. The next morning UsTtebulajoo's wife awakes
before the rest, and goes out to reconnoitre. Where should

!■:

MICMAC INDIAN LEGENDS.

she be but close by the sea-shore, the broad ocean full in
view? Her old instincts return ; she cannot resist the tempta-
tion to plunge ill and return to her former haunts and habits.
She is now free from her marriage vow, and she determines
to return to her home and kindred. Quietly she awakens her
own little boy and her nephew, and says, M'tokcdahncch (" Let
us all go down to the shore ").' The little fellows arise, and
follow her to the shore. She plunges in ; and nothing loath,
they follow at her invitation. By and by Usitebiilajoo awakes ;
and lo ! his wife is gone, and the two boys are gone also.
He eagerly inquires of his sister if she knows anything about
them. She is as much in the dark as he is. They rush
down to the shore ; there they discover the woman and the
two children breasting the waves like little whales, as they
are. He shouts to them, and begs of them to return. " Come
back ! come back ! " he cries in grief, " nor cross the raging
water. Come back, my boys, and bring your mother back ! "
But they are deaf to all his entreaties. Noo (" Father"), says
his little boy, tcllmskiis ^'Kcech (" my mother said to you "),
mooukti'lalin iiktauoogii (" you must not take me to the sea-
shore"). "You have not kept your word, and we are now
going home. My mother is going to return to her father and
mother, and my comrade is going to his father." Then they
make off all together out into the open sea. Usitebulajoo looks
longingly after them ; and as he watches, he sees Bootup
(the old whale) spouting in the distance. Soon he sees
Bootupasees coming up by Bootup's side, and watches them
as they make off together toward their distant home.

ADDITION NO. i TO LEGEND VII.

Addition No. i to Legend VII.

For a long time Pulovv£ch' brought home from his hunting
excursions nothing but moosok' (lean meat, without either
bone or fat). His wife asked him why he brought only lean
meat ; she told him that she was tired of such poor fare, and
that she wanted some fat to eat, for her stomach needed
greasing. He did not give her any good reason for not
bringing home the bones and the fat; she finally became
distrustful lest there were something wrong, .so she deter-
mined to follow him and watch his doings. This she did slyly,
concealing herself. She saw him gather fir-boughs, break
them up, and spread them on the ground; then she saw him
take a knife, cut off the flesh from the calves of his legs, and
lay it on the boughs. He powwowed these pieces into a large
pile, and mended his legs by powwowing the flesh back upon
them. Seeing this, she ran home crying, and told her chil-
dren that they had been eating the flesh of their stepfather,
who was an evil spirit, and that she must go and leave him.
Her girl was small, and the boy was a babe at the breast ; but
she left both of them behind, pulled up the door-post, and
went down the hole.

After she had gone half-way to the Indian town, ''he cut off
one of her breasts and hung it up on a bough. VVnen she
entered the old woman's wig- "am where little Marten was,
who had proved himself to be the children's friend, the old
woman began to cry and said, " You will be killed." Little
Marten used to visit the other wigwams ; and when he heard
his grandmother crying out, his business was to run and see
what the matter was.

While Piilovveoh'was in pursuit of his wife, he saw her
breast hanging to a limb of a tree ; he recognized it, but did
not touch it. When the children saw it, they too recognized
it; the girl took it down and placed the nipple in the mouth
of the baby brother, and the milk flowed plentifully. He

MICMAC INDIAN LEGENDS.

nursed and was satisfied. She carried with her the " bottle
of milk."

When Madame Crow found the survivors, she was. loaded
with ^msookse (sausages made by turning the entrails of the
bear inside out, thus filling them with the fat that adheres to
them, washing the outside and drying them like sausages).

Then the whole village removed, having extinguished all
the fires, and, at the suggestion of the mother, having hung
the children upon a tree. The old woman who befriended
the children had previously lighted a piece of touchwood and
hidden it in the sand under the fire, so that it was preserved
for the use of her proteges. When she was ordered to join
the removing party, she promised to do so ; but she lingered
to release the children and to supply them with fire.

: '

Addition No. 2.

When the little boy has succeeded in killing small game ^
he sends word to the friends who defended them before their
departure from the village. He has an easy and cheap mode
of telegraphing, for the resources of magic are boundless.
He rolls a mouse-skin around an arrow, and then shoots it
towards the rising sun. The arrow goes direct to the wigwam
where the kind old woman and Marten live. The old woman
recognizes and understands the message, and is greatly
pleased. The same process is repeated when rabbits and
beavers are killed. In the latter case strips of fat beaver's
meat are rolled round the arrow. This arrow always enters
the door of the wigwam, and sticks up in the ground. The
meat is unwound, and in addition to the information it con-

1 When the little boy began to hunt, he shot his arrow straight up into the air ;
and down came various small animals, that supplied them with food. Was not
this to teach the weak and needy to look to Providence ?

ADDITION NO. 2.

veys, it furnishes the people with supplies of food during the
terrible famine.^

[This addition, as also that to No. 8, was related to me by
Susan Christmas, Oct. lO, 1870. J

' These are interesting facts. This is the first I have heard of such a method
of sending despatches. There was another point which I had not learned
before. AmoogwSdtje (" whenever they wished that the various animals might
come to them, they came "). Like the fairy-tale of our own fatherland,—

" The glasses with a wish come nigh,
And with a wish retire."

MJCMAC INDIAN LEGENDS.

r'l,

VIII.

THE HISTORY OF KITPOOSEAgUNOW.

A TALE OF ANCIENT TIMES.

'' I ^HERE were giants in the olden times who were fierce
-^ and cruel, and often possessed of superhuman powers ;
they were cannibals, and were covered with hair.

In a certain part of the forest dwelt such a man, a kookwcs'^
(giant) ; with him dwelt his wife and one son. The par-
ents were now old ; the son's business was to scour the coun-
try and find out the haunts of the people. When he had
discovered them, he would return and give the necessary
directions to his father, who killed and dressed the game,
and then conveyed it home on tdbdktindskool (sleds with
broad bottoms). So long as this supply lasted they would
remain quietly in the lodge, amusing themselves, and passing
the time after the manner of other memcfjooezvook (people).
When their supply of provisions was exhausted, the son
would start on another hunting expedition, and the same
process would be repeated. Thus passed the years away.

But on one occasion, while the young hunter of men was
away in the forest, he caught sight of a beautiful girl, and
became greatly enamoured of her. He could neither kill her,
nor tell his father where she was. He followed her to the
lodge, where her parents — now an old, gray-headed couple —
resided. He found that she was their only child, their only
stay and support in their advanced age. He asks for their
daughter in marriage. He is told that they cannot spare

* Compare v^-yai, a giant.

Tim HISTORY OF KITPOOSEAGUNOW.

her while they live ; for she is their only dependence, since
they are now too old and feeble to hunt the bear, the moose,
and the caribou. He promises to obviate this difficulty by
supplying their wants himself. He also freely states that his
father is a giant and a man-eater; but he promises carefully
to conceal their place of residence from him in case they
consent to give him their daughter. Upon these conditions
they consent to the match, and he returns home. But he has
wasted the day in his own private affairs, and has made no
discoveries of game for his '"ather. This is nothing extra-
ordinary, and excites no suspicion. His father inquires
kindly whether he has discovered any tracks; he replies that
he has not. He says nothing, however, of the love affair.

The next day he goes out hunting again, discovers the
traces of human beings, returns with the news, and sends off
old kookwts with his weapons and broad-bcttomed sleds.'
After the old man has gone off, the young man tells his
mother about the beautiful girl and her gray-headed parents,
and solicits her assistance in carrying out his project. She
had observed that he was melancholy and taciturn, and had
inquired the cause. He then asks his mother if she would
treat his wife kindly should he fetch her home, and if she
would intercede with the old man in their behalf; or, in case
the father would not consent to his marrying, if she would
assist him in concealing his wife. The mother sympathizes
with him in his perplexities, and promises to help him.

So when the two old folks are there alone, the mother
relates the whole affair to the father, and asks him if he will
allow the son to bring his wife home. He says at first that
he will, but immediately after adds, " He must not bring her
here."

That evening after the young man has returned from hunt-
ing, his mother relates to him what his father has said. So
the next day he goes and fetches his wife home, but not to

' The whole bottom is made of one wide piece bent up in front, so as to
slide easily over the snow without sinking in.

MfCMAC INDIAN LEGENDS.

■ t

; I.

his father's wigwam. The young man, with his mother's help,
manages to conceal his wife until the next day, when he goes
to work to erect a stone hut ; it takes him two days to build
and fit it up. He then brings his wife to it, and there they
dwell together. For his own parents he hunts people, but he
hunts animals for his wife's parents.

In due time they have a son, who is born in the spring of
the year. He grows up and is soon able to run about and
play. His father has his own food preserved in a bear's intes-
tines and paunch, which is generally hanging in the wigwam.^
The little boy is cautioned by the mother not to hit, with his
little bow and arrow, the sack containing his father's food.

Time passes, and the mother is on the eve of giving
birth to a second son. The father is out hunting, an ' the
little boy is amusing himself with his bow and arrow. Sev-
eral times the arrow nearly strikes the sack containing his
father's food. His mother cautions him, saying, " Take care,
my son, that you do not hit that sack ! " But directly the
arrow goes whizzing through the air and pierces the bag.
From the hole thus made the oil begins to drip. She rises,
takes a dish, and places it under to save the oil. But there is
a very intimate connection between this mystical sack of food
and the man whose special portion it is. The wound and the
waste at home affect the owner's body, however far away he
may be. As drips the oil at home, so wastes the man's
strength away ; he sits down weary and faint, well knowing
what has happened. He comes home at night, but he has no
appetite. He blames his wife for her carelessness, though he
says but little ; he then lies down and sleeps. The next
morning the young man goes over to his father's wigwam and
says, " Father, you may have my wife for food." So the old
man, taking an iron cane in his hand, and his sled with a flat
bottom, goes over to his son's stone hut.

1 The small intestines of the bear, covered with fat, used to be turned inside
out, thoroughly washed, and then dried like sausages, the roll of fat forming
the filling.

THE HISTORY OF kItPOOSEAGOnOW

The little boy sees him coming, and frightened runs to his
mother, saying, Kcjoo ! kookivUs xvHchkoocl^t (" Mother, there
is a giant coming "). She says, " No, my son, you need not
be afraid ; that is your grandfather." He enters the hut.
The woman receives him respectfully, inviting him up to the
seat of honor at the back of the wigwam ; he sits down and
places the end of his iron cane in the fire. After a while he
recommends to his daughter to have a care for her personal
neatness. The woman admits the propriety of the old man's
suggestion ; while she is engaged in carrying out this sugges-
tion, he draws out the heated iron and is about to thrust it
through her body, when her boy gives the alarm. Kcjoo !
kaksusk ! (" Mother, he is going to burn you "). Upon
this he thrusts the iron back into the fire. She looks up, but
sees no harm, and again proceeds with her labors. The old
man watches his opportunity a second time, thrusts her
through with the heated iron, and then proceeds, cannibal-
fashion, to dress her as though she were a beast. Her living
unborn babe is thrown into a well, — a deep hole near by in
the ground, whence water is obtained ; the kookwes loads up
his sled and goes home, leaving the little grandson weeping
bitterly for his mother.

When his father returns at evening, he tells him the pitiful
tale. His father comforts him, tells him not to mind, and
after a while succeeds in pacifying him.

So things go on as usual, except that the little boy is left
to amuse himself alone while his father is away on his hunt-
ing excursions. One day he goes and peeps down into the
well. What does he see there but a dear little live boy!
They look at each other and laugh. Finally the little fellow
comes out of the well and plays with his brother. But at
nightfall, as soon as he hears his father's footsteps, he runs
and jumps into the well.

The little boy now asks his father to make him two little
bows and arrows. He does so, but asks no questions ; and
the little fellow says nothing of the discovery he has made.

M/CMAC INDIAN LEGENDS.

The next day he goes again to the well. His brother, who
at this stage of the story is named Kltpooseagiinow,^ comes
up and invites his brother to play with him, first for a while
out of doors, and afterwards in the hut, where they make a
good deal of confusion, tumbling things topsy-turvy, as boys
are wont to do in boisterous play. At evening their father's
approaching footsteps are heard, and Kitpooseagunow
smashes the bows and arrows, dashes off to the well, and
jumps in again.

The father is astonished to sec such a litter and confusion
in the hut. " My son," he inquires, " has any one been here
playing with you to-day? " The boy then tells him what has
happened, and proposes that he shall use some measures to
conciliate and tame the little brother. He proposes that he
shall bring in birds' tails of all sorts, colors, and sizes, and
that with these he shall endeavor to attract his attention.
This the old man at once proceeds to do. At the bo3''s sug-
gestion, he then hides himself until Kitpooseagunow comes
in. The plan is that the boy shall seize and hold on to his
brother till the father comes, who is to rush in when he hears
the cry. Soon the boy calls, and his father runs in and finds
the younger brother struggling to get away. The old man
approaches cautiously, holding out the pretty tails. Klt-
pooseagiinow seizes one after another, and throws them into
the fire. At last one of the tails attracts his attention ; he
becomes quiet, and suffers his father to take him in his arms.
The father immediately conceives a great affection for him,
and gives him all sorts of pretty playthings.

Time passes, and one day Kitpooseagunow tells his brother
to go with him and gather birch-bark, and bring it into the
stone hut. So they bring in loads of this combustible mate-
rial, and tear it up. Their father checks them ; they will

1 This name signifies that he was taken from ti e side of his mother. They
sometimes thus preserve the c.ilf of a moose or criribou, after the mother has
fallen. The calf thus saved alive is of course lemarkably tame, and can be
easily reared.

THE HISTORY OF kItPOOSEAgUNOW,

jther
the

late-
will

They
ler has
Ian be

surely burn up the hut if they do not desist. They pay no
heed to the warning, however, for that is just what they mean
to do. The father has been guilty of an act of cruelty and
perfidy, and the time of vengeance has arrived. When morn-
ing comes, Kltpoosclgunow sets him the same task which the
old kookzuifs had assigned his mother when he plotted her
death. Whereupon the father unrobes and begins the opera-
tion, which is expressed by a single word in Micinac, — Noot-
k^omadoonti. As the work becomes dull and monotonous,
he nods over it and falls fast asleep. Kltpooscagunow says
to his brother, Tooahdcn?ch (" Now let us go out" ). He
then sets fire to the heaps of birch-bark and goes out. They
fasten the door and brace it. Soon the old man awakes and
calls lustily for help ; but he calls in vain. They hold him a
fast prisoner in the flames. His cries soon cease, and the
brothers retire. After a while they return and gather up the
old man's bones, which were burned to chalk, and pound
them up to powder. Kitpooseagiinow then blows them to the
winds, and tells them to turn into flies. This is done; and
thus originated flies of all kinds.

They now proceed with their work of vengeance, and go on
to their grandfather's wigwam ; as they go in, they pass a
straight, beautiful white-birch tree, with pretty, smooth bark.
The little magician calls his brother's attention to the beauty
of the birch. Then he takes a fir-bough in his hand and
whips it, imprinting the marks of the fir-leaves upon the
birch-bark. This was the origin of the soosoon, the marks
that are now always seen on the birch-bark.

On the way to their grandfather's wigwam they kill a
moose. They do not dress it, but leave it there for the old
man. When they arrive they inform him respecting the
moose, and direct him to go with them for it. He takes the
.•sled, and they all go away together. The old man directs
them to build a fire, while he skins and dresses the moose.
Then they roast a portion of the meat, by sticking it on to the
end of n stick, placing it near the fire, thrusting the other end

Af/CAf.tC IXDIAN LEGENDS.

\ n

of the stick into the ground, and turning the meat round when
one side is donc.^ After the meat is roasted, they all cat.
When they have done eating, Kltpooseugunow says to his
grandfather, Nootkoomadoon. The old man obeys, commences
the ominous operation, nods over his work, and soon falls
asleep. Then the two boys take the ootclgitc (the caul that
covers the moose's intestines), hold it over the fire until it is
scalding hot, and then put it over the old mr.n's head as he
sleeps. This burns and smothers him to death.

Then Kltpooseagiinow seizes a knife, takes out the liver,
roasts it on the fire, and tosses it on the pile of moose meat
upon the sled ; they then start for the hut. The grandmother
goes out, unties the meat, and brings it in. Kltpooseagunow
then gives her a roasted liver for her supper, directing her
somewhat authoritatively to eat it. She obeys with reluc-
tance, while he tauntingly inquires how she likes it. She
informs him that she does not like it at all, and gives him to
understand that she knows whose liver it is, and that she also
knows who he is. She says this in a surly tone, and he raises
his hatchet and kills her with a single blow. [Were I at lib-
erty to do so, I would alter at least this part of the story, and
say that she was spared ; but I must translate, not invent, and
tell the story as it is, not as it ought to be.] The brothers
then quietly occupy the lodge all night, and leave it in the
morning.

They now move on, and finally come out to a lake, where
being thirsty they hope to find water; but to their surprise
the lake is dry, as are also all the rivers and streams in the
neighborhood. Old Ablegemoo (the Bullfrog), a surly and
suspicious thief, has been apprised of their approach, and
has determined to cut them off. He has called to his aid his
magical powers, and has collected all the water in the country
in bark vessels, which he has hung up in his own wigwam.

1 All this is expressed in a single word in Micmac, SogHbahsi ; and another
single word expresses other modes of cooking. Meat roasted in this way is said
to be very fine eating.

THE HISTORY OF kItPOOSEAGUNOW,

[here
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the
and
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Inother
is said

The two travellers enter the first wigwam they come to, and
ask for a drink. The woman of the house sends her boy
over to the chief's lod^^e for water, informing him that two
strangers have arrived and that they are thirsty. The little
fellow returns with a small portion, from which he has been
lapping on the way, as he is nearly dying of thirst. The
water is muddy, and Kltpooseagunow dashes it out, telling
him to \io back and bring some better water. The little fellow
returns, and respectfully delivers his message, but meets with
no better success. The old woman, however, interposes this
time, and begs that the water may not be thrown away, but
given to the little boy. This reasonable request is complied
with, and he is sent back a third time, but he does not suc-
ceed any better. Then our hero starts up and says, " Come
on! I will go myself this time. I'll be bound that I will
obtain some water that is fit to drink."

So over he goes to the chief's lodge. He finds the lodge
very large and filled with women, the wives of the chief, who
is sitting in the back part of the wigwam, selling the water to
the famishing people. A huge bear is lying there, which the
women are canployed in skinning. Some of them grow tired,
and others take their place. The stranger looks on for a
noment, and then says, " Let me skin the bear; " accordingly
he lays hold of the skin and strips it off at a jerk. He then
seizes the old chief and doubles him across his knee, breaking
his back, crumples him up into a heap, and kills him. He
then tosses him out of the wigwam, orders the women out,
seizes a club, and smashes all the barks that contain the water.
Away the water runs, and again fills up all the lakes, ponds,
rivers, and brooks, and the famishing country is relieved. He
then walks quietly back to the lodge, and says to the old
lady, " You can now hang up as much water to dry as you
choose." She replies, " No need of preserving water now ; it
is so abundant."

Ever since the breaking of old Bullfrog's back, these
animals have had a crumpled back.

MIC MAC INDIAN LEGENDS.

During the evening KTtpoosc.lgunow requests the mistress
of the establishment to make him a kwediinooch' (a tiny
canoe). She does so, and he forms a tiny how of a fir-bough,
and uses a single hair for a bow-string. When the canoe is
finished, it is sent down to the shore, and the next morning
the two boys start away in the canoe.

On their way down the river they see a huge giant standing
on the bank, brandishing a spear, as though looking for fish,
but in reality determining to defend the pass against these
two formidable invaders of his territory. The little bow is
now brought into requisition, and a tiny arrow is sent whiz-
zing at the monster, who leaps to the opposite shore and falls
dead. The two boys now pursue their course, and come
after a while to a weir belonging to another giant. Kltpoose-
Sgunow seizes and tears it to pieces. The owner did not
happen to be there, but he soon came to see if anything had
been caught. He perceives that his fishing apparatus has
been destroyed. He goes home in great wrath, and begins to
vent his rage on the innocent and defenceless members of his
household. First he raves at his wife for neglecting to watch
the weir, and then he kills her; afterwards he kills all the
children and his daughter-in-law; he finally falls to upbraid-
ing himself, saying, " It was my own weir, and my own special
business to watch it." So he kills himself, and thus our little
avenger, in true " Jack-the-giant-killer " style, manages by his
adroitness to kill the giant and all his family.

They then proceed ; but KTtpooseagunow tells his brother,
" I shall have to steer the canoe now." They soon come to
a rough, dark passage, where the river runs under a moun-
tain. They go dashing into the dark hole and thunder
through, emerging into fair weather and smooth water, and
soon arrive at the region of the Madoocses (Porcupines).
There they land, enter a wigwam, and seat themselves in the
part opposite the door. The mistress of the establishment
receives them with apparent kindness, but secretly determines
to destroy them. Her house is a cave made after the

li 'i

THE insTORv OF kItpoosfJgOxow

Miuloofs fashion. She determines to kindle such a fire as will
smother or burn them to death.

She kindles a roaring' fire of dried hemlock bark; the elder
brother is soon overcome and falls dead. Hut the other
catches the Porcupine in her own trap; he piles on more fuel
and blows up the fire, until she succumbs, lie then takes
his dead brother out into the open air and resuscitates him;
they then get into their canoe and push on. They next arrive
at: the settlement of the Mice, where they land, and are
invited to remain to attend a festival which is to be held the
ni ■■ c day in their honor. To this they agree ; but when the
time comes for eating, the younger brother tells his elder
brother not to swallow the food, for it has been poisoned.
He is to hold it in his mouth until he goes out, and then slyly
eject it.

After the feast is over they take their departure, and push
on until they reach the territory of the AdoodooSchkti (Red
Squirrels). Here they arc treated very hospitably. The chief,
in true Eastern style, comes out to meet them, and invites
them to come to his wigwam. He proclaims a feast for the
next day; here there is neither poison nor danger. They
engage in various sports ; besides the common dance they
dance the ' nskdwoktin (a sort of mystic dance) ; the young
men run and wrestle. While the feast is going on, Kltpoose-
agunow whispers to his brother, and tells him to conceal in
his bosom a small dish^ that is there used, and carry it away.
After all is over, they retire to the lodge which they first
entered, and stay there all night. The next morning they are
again on the move bright and early {iVi^pkHskiitpook'). As they
glide along, Kttpooseagiinow shoots a small porpoise and
takes it into the canoe. By and by they come to a large
wigwam, and find on entering it, that it is the habitation of
the renowned Glooscap (a sort of demigod, who figures largely
in all Micmac legends, and of whose existence few doubts

1 As no mention is made afterwards of the dish, I strongly suspect that
my edition of the story is defective, and that some pages have been left out.

IE I

MI CM AC INDIAN LEGENDS.

arc even yet entertained, especially among the older people).
Here they land, and enter the lodge. They find at home the
lord of the mansion, his housekeeper, an old woman, and a
small boy named Abistdndooch (Marten, or Sable). The
hospitable old lady sends the boy to the spring, while she
brings her culinary apparatus into requisition, and prepares a
supper for the guests. After supper, and when they are
about to retire to their quarters, Glooscap challenges Kit-
pooseagunow to a trial of their superhuman powers. He in-
tends to conjure up a bitter cold night, and see if he can
overpower the little fellow with the cold. So he remarks to him
as he goes out, "The sky is red, we shall have a cold night."
When they have arrived at their lodge where they are to
pass the night, Kitpooseagiinow directs his brother to try out
the porpoise, while he goes in quest of fuel. This the brother
does; he builds up a roaring fire, and prepares to do battle
with the cold. The porpoise-oil — of which there is an abun-
dance, small as was the porpoise — is poured into the fire ; but
despite all efforts, at midnight the fire is out, and the cold so
intense that the elder brother, the only merely morteil one of
the company, is stiffened in the icy arms of death. But his
brother cannot be injured. As soon as it is light, he calls to
life his brother, who immediately springs to his feet.

Glooscap, finding himself matched, sends a polite invitation
to his friend to accompany him on a beaver-hunt. He sends
word that he is all ready. Then they go far into the forest,
where they come to a lake. Glooscap looks round and says,
" Here are traces of beavers." They do not, however, have
very good success ; they kill but one, and that is very small.
Small as it is, it is not to be despised ; and Glooscap resigns
his share in favor of the stranger, who fastens the little beaver
to his garter, and thus carries it to the village, where they
pass the night.

Before retiring, Kitpooseagiinow remarks dryly to Gloos-
cap, "The sky is red again this evening; I think we shall
have a bitter cold night." Glooscap, of course, takes the

'Mi

THE HISTORY OF KITPOOSEAGUNOW.

hint; and now it is his turn to Jo battle with the cold con-
jured up. So he sends httle Marten out to gather wood,
and they build up a roaring fin^, but at midnight it is all out;
the old woman and little Marten are frozen stiff. Early the
next morning, Glooscap calls out, Noogiiuicc, tiiiinc/iahsc'
(" Grandmother, get up " ). Abistclndooc/i, niiiiu/iahsc' ,
(" Marten, get up " ). Up they spring, as well as ever, and
arc immediately about their morning work.

The morning is bright and fine. Kitpooscagunow calls his
brother, and they start off in their small canoe. The water
is as smooth as oil, and they soon come to the sea-coast; they
push out far from the land, to hurt loons. (This they do, by
chasing them and making them ijive, unvil they are tired out
and so nearly drowned that they can be readily captured with
the hand). At sea they capture larger game; they kill a
small whale, and tow him in. He is given to the old lady who
waited on them in Glooscap's hall, and she is ininutely in-
structed how to prepare it for food. She is to erect a flake,
slice up the meat, and dry it on the flake. This she proceeds
to do after their departure ; it takes her two days and nights
to finish it.

After one more voyage, the two adventurers land, leave
their canoe on the shore, and go up into the woods.

All this time the younger brother has kept the little beavcr-
skin dangling at his garter. But as he strides on through the
woods, it begins to increase and soon breaks the lashing and
falls to the ground. So he twists a sapling into a withe, fas-
tens it round his loins, and hangs upon it the now large skin.
As he moves on, the skin grows big apace, so that it breaks
down the trees, as he ploughs a path through the forest.
Finally they arrive at a large town, where they go immedi-
ately to a store, and offer their beaver for sale. The mer-
chant wishes to purchase the fur, but doubts whether he is
able to pay for so much. He directs them to weigh it ; they
do this, but it takes all day. The merchant begins to pay ; but
it takes all his cash, all his merchandise, all his horses, and all
his lands.

Ml CM AC INDIAN LEGENDS.

^1 i

Kitpooseagunow now dismisses his brother. The legend
says nothing of the size of the boys ; but taking the hint from
the growing beaver-skin, we may conclude that they long ago
grew to the size of men, or else they did so on their last
journey through the woods. However that may be, they
now appear before us as men full-grown.

The elder brother departs ; he does not seem to have
received any share in the fur-speculation, which I should
say indicates a mistake somewhere. He goes out in quest of
work. He reaches a large bay, where he finds a settlement;
he goes into one of the houses and asks for work. The man
of the house is away, but the mistress furnishes him with
employment.

He learns that the master of the house has been absent a
year. But shortly after he engages in the service of the
house, the master comes home. When the wife sees him
coming, she runs upstairs and hides. This clearly indicates
that there is something wrong. The master comes in, looks
lound, examines his weapons, and finds that there is blood
upon them ; one of them is even dripping with blood. One
of his servants has blood upon his face. He calls for his
wife. She makes her appearance, and lo ! there is blood
upon her face. He next looks on the floor, and that too is
bloody. He then asks what has become of his sister. His
wife answers that she does not know. He replies, " But you
do know," He then inquires, " What is the meaning of this
blood upon both your faces? And this sword, why does it
drip with blood? " His wife again says, "I do not know."
He answers, •' You do, though." Then he rises and removes
the bloody boards in the floor. There lies the murdered sis-
ter, her breast pierced with a sword. " What means all this? "
he inquires. Then he bursts into tears and mourns for his
poor sister, thus barbarously murdered. " To-morrow," says
he to the murderers, who stand convicted by the blood, which,
according to universal tradition, cannot be washed ofif, " I
will deal with you for this."

THE HISTORY OF KITPOOSEAGUNOW.

He now prepares to bury his sister. First, he has a coffin
made, then he prepares the corpse for burial, and on the next
day he conveys her to the tomb.

Returning from the burial, he sends everybody out of the
house, and sets fire to it. When it is half burned, two devils
appear in the midst of the flames ; then up to the fire he drags
his wife with one hand, and the servant with the other, and
says to the two devils, " I deliver these two murderers to
you ; " then he throws them into the fire.

KcspeahdooksU (here the story ends).

[The preceding is one of the first AJtiookivokun I ever heard
related. Susan Barss, a woman with a humpback, told it in
Micmac; and Jo Brooks interpreted it as she went along. I
afterward wrote it down from her dictation, on the shores of
the North River, Prince Edward Island, where Brooks was
encamped. This was in the summer of 1847.

It is a singular composition, and certainly displays great
inventive skill for an untutored Indian. How ancient the
invention of the tale is, I have no means of knowing. The
individual who related it to me said she learned it from her
father, and she and others gave me to understand that it was
old. Even if this be the case, which I have no reason to
doubt, it would necessarily undergo some change in passing
from one to another unwritten.

I can see in it some faint resemblance to the story of
Moses.

1. There was the miraculous preservation of the infant in
the water, brought home by his brother, as Moses was by his
sister.

2. His miraculous powers.

3. His being the avenger of those who had been oppressed
and injured.

4. His travels and adventures as he leads his brother
away through the wilderness, killing the giants that come
out to oppose him.

MICMAC INDIAN LEGENDS.

!•■ !

5. His adventures with Ch.\c{ AblegUvtoo. Smashing up the
vessels containing the water, causing it to flow out and fill the
lakes and brooks, as Moses smote the rock in the wilderness.

6. His miraculous creation of flies. He scattered the
dust of his father's bones towards heaven, as Moses scattered
the ashes, and smote the dust, as Moses brought locusts
and flies.

7. The stealing of the dish at the festival has some resem-
blance to the cup in Benjamin's sack.

8. The miraculous increase of fur and the mode in which
payment was made bear no faint resemblance to the remark-
able crops of corn during the seven years of plenty.

Payment was made (i) in money; (2) when that failed, in
goods; (3) when goods ftiiled, in houses; (4) when houses
failed, in lands; (5) when lands were all gone, then in people.

All these resemblances may, indeed, be imaginary or
accidental; but one thing is real, — the universal belief in
miracles, which pervades mankind. A being sent from God,
or coming from the other world, must prove his mission by
doing what uninspired mortals cannot do. And there is again
the craving of the human mind after the marvellous. How
the Bible in this respect satisfies all the longings of the human
heart! It is one scene of wonders from the opening of the
grand drama of the Creation to the close, where is unrolled
before us the picture of the new heavens and the new earth,
with all their wonders and glories.

The mention of a town, of money, of iron, and of a store
clearly indicates acquaintance with the white invaders of the
country. But the story, even in these particulars, may be
old ; for we must bear in mind that this continent has been
inhabited by Europeans for over four hundred years.

The remembrance of these singular legends displays intel-
lectual powers. This itself is a matter of interest. An In-
dian who has lately been assisting me in collecting them was
able, after once hearing a long story, to relate it to me cor-
rectly, from beginning to end. This man had learned to read

ADDITION TO LEGEND VIH.

in a few weeks, I may say in a few days; for I taught him liis
letters, and he showed such proficiency that he could read a
chapter from the Testament after about six weeks' study.
What a shame and sin it is that these people have been kept
down in the dust, despised and neglected so long, as though
they were unable from intellectual incapacity to rise in the
scale of civilization and usefulness ! May God in mercy
forgive us for past neglect and unbelief, and give us more
faith, diligence, and wisdom for the future !]

Addition to Legend VIII.

An old kookzves (giant) lived away in the deep recesses
of a forest. He had a wife, a son, and three daughters.
The son was engaged in hunting game for his parents, but
after a while he became desirous of keeping house on his own
account. He consulted his father; for he was afraid that
should he marry a woman of another tribe, the old father
would devour her. The father, however, promised not to
molest her, provided that he would not bring her home.

So he started in quest of a wife. The course which he
took was winding and zigzag, crossing and recrossing his
steps, so that his father could not follow him and find the
place whence he should bring his wife.

On the first night he came upon a wigwam inhabited by
two young men ; but they were absent when he arrived. He
thought that he heard near the door a sound which indicated
that human beings were not far off. He kindled a fire and
awaited their arrival. Soon they came. They were some-
what startled at the presence of a stranger; but as they
treated him kindly, he soon felt quite at home. He told
them the object of his journey, and one of them agreed to
accompany him.

They reach a large oodun on the bank of the river. The
young man who is in quest of a wife, being determined that he

i( Ski

'^:: i

If. I

MICMAC INDIAN LEGENDS.

would not be married for his good looks, assumes the appear-
ance of a wrinkled old man. The chief of the place has sev-
eral marriageable daughters, and agrees to give him a wife.
There is a festival appointed, and in due time the bride is
presented to her future husband. She is shocked and dis-
tressed at the old man's ugly appearance ; but there is, alas !
no help for it. But on awaking in the morning, what is her
amazement at seeing such a young-looking fellow at her side !
She calls out to her mother to know what all this means:
" What has become of my husband, and who is this that has
assumed his place? " " Oh, that is your husband ! His old,
ugly appearance was only assumed to try you." Na /ok
weledasit dbltdsii (then the girl was overjoyed). She con-
sents to go home with him, and the three return together;
the young friend takes leave of them when he reaches his
home. The young kockwcs erects a lodge a long distance
from his father's home.

The tale then proceeds as in the legend. The bear's
paunch is hung upon a tree outside, and not in the wigwam.
When the young child is grown up and becomes a playmate
for his brother, he is told of the manner in which their
mother was killed. When they are burning the old man, the
father is taunted with his crime of allowing the mother to be
killed. " Ah ! give my mother away again to be eaten up,
will you?"

When they arrive at the grandfather's wigwam, having
stifled the old man with the heated caul, they return and
kill the grandmother and the three daughters.

There is some difference in the incidents that occur in their
course down the river.

For instance, the one calls the old fellow that had gathered
all the water Ablegemoo, and the other Tadagale. The old
man sold the water, for women, — a wife was the price of a
drink. When Kitpooseagunow entered his wigwam, the
Bullfrog attempted to strike him ; but in the attempt, which
was twice repeated, he hit and killed a woman who sat next

ADDITION TO LEGEND VIII.

to hitn.^ The old woman, who with Marten had treated them ,
kindly at this place, forewarned them of all the dangers they
would encounter on their way down the river.

She first encountered a giant who tried to catch them with
a boat-hook.2 yhg second straddled across the river, and
with a spear disturbed the water and sought to capsize the
canoe. Kitpooseaganow shoots him, but he does not fall
dead. The giant escapes to the top of a high cliff, where
Kitpooseagunow finds him, under the guise of a kind old
woman who has come to help him ; he extracts the arrows,
and kills the giant.

Susan's edition says nothing of a visit to Glooscap, but
relates that event as having been an encounter with a mighty
magician. During the intense cold an ice-stream entered his
tent, put out the fire, and killed all the inmates except the
master. The next evening he attempts to return the com-
pliment of the ice-visitor; but Kitpooseagunow shuts him
off at the door.

The conclusion of the story differs as told by Susan Christ-
mas and Susan Barss. The version of the former gives Kit-
pooseagunow a wife before he parts from his brother. They
cannot pass the places guarded by magicians and sorceresses
without shooting. Their last visit was to an old woman of
the Skunk tribe, whose daughters were very beautiful. He
determines to marry one, but the old woman informs him that
he shall never sleep with her. So he proposes an excursion
to a neighboring ledge of rocks out at sea, for the purpose of
gathering eggs ; while he is busy finding eggs, she seizes the
canoe and paddles off with it, thus intending to leave him to

1 Now, whenever a bullfrog is discovered, the Indians know that water remains
there all summer.

* The first hook was of wood. Kitpooseagiinow's brother tried to break it, but
failed. Kitpooseagiinow snapped it like a pipe-stem. The giant then ran across
a point, and tried them again with a hook made of horn. I?ut KitpooseSgunow
snapped this off easily. Susan represents the fellow as killing his wife and
daughter, but I think this is her error. She has left out the weir story, to which
that incident more naturally applies.

MICMAC INDIAN LEGENDS.

die, as she has left many a one before. But when he finds
that she is gone, he calls a gull, who takes him up in his bill
and carries him ashore. He arrives before the old Abikchcloo,
who marvels greatly at seeing him there. He then insists on
taking possession of his wife ; but the old woman, when he
lies down, piles on all the skins she can in order to smother
him ; he, however, adroitly cuts a hole through each one, and
lets in the air; in the morning he comes out as well as ever,
takes his wife, and starts for home. His brother also takes a
wife; and kcspeadooksltktk (their stories end).

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THE SMALL BABY AND THE BIG BIRD-

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IX.

THE SMALL BABY AND THE BIG BIRD.
A TALE OF MAGIC, MURDER, WAR, AND LOVE.

[It may be laid down as a universal principle in Indian
legendary tales, that feebleness and littleness are made by
supernatural power to overcome strength and size. This
contrast between the seeming incapacity of the instrumen-
tality to accomplish the object proposed comes out in nearly
every tale. Hence we have tiny children attacking huge
giants, beasts, serpents, and birds, and overcoming them with
tiny weapons, such as bows made of a fir-stalk, with a single
hair for a string, or a spear made of a sharpened splinter.
Then we have companies of hearty men fed from a tiny dish ;
fine scrapings of a beaver bone, enlarged into huge pieces of
meat by being boiled ; a small canoe sewed up by a woman
in one evening, made to carry two men over a boisterous,
boiling sea. In all this there is a marvellous coincidence with
the Bible representation of God's dealings with man. For all
through this Book we see the principle exhibited that " God
hath chosen the foolish things of the world to confound the
wise ; and God hath chosen the weak things of the world to
confound the things which are mighty; and base things of
the world, and things which are despised, hath God chosen,
yea, and things which are not, to bring to naught things that
are: that no flesh should glory in his presence . . . that, ac-
cording as it is written, He that glorieth, let him glory in the
Lord." (i Cor. i. 27, 28, 29, 31.)

Now, whether those legends have to some extent the tra-
ditional reminiscences of God's dealings with mankind of old

M/CMAC INDIAX LEGENDS.

■■'l
'I

i ::

R 5

for their basis, or whether they arc pure inventions, they show
the bent of the human mind, and that the Divine Revelation
is in harmony with man's necessities and the promptings of
his nature.

In the tale that follows there figures a remarkable bird, a
monster in size, into the form of which certain sanguinary
chiefs, who arc wizards, powwows, and cannibals, are able to
transform themselves, retaining their intelligence, and able at
will again to resume the shape of men. The tradition of such
a bird is not a fable, though the bird itself is fabulous. I
lately saw somewhere a book in which a captive, who had
been released from his forced sojourn among the American
Indians, gives an account of his adventures; among other
things he mentions their belief in a " big bird " called a
"CuUoo." The editor tells the story of the Culloo, but adds
a note in which he intimates very clearly his suspicions that
the " big bird " fable is an invention of the captive. But this
editor was mistaken. The Culloo figures often in Micmac
legendary lore. Big birds are now known to have existed in
former ages, for their tracks have been found in the rocks.
An account of the " condor," slightly exaggerated, like the
pictures of Barnum's giant, would easily swell into the mon-
ster of Indian fable.

The following is a translation of the original which lies
before me in the form in which I wrote it down from the
mouth of an Indian woman named Susan Barss, in Charlotte-
town, in the winter of 1 847-1 848. I shall confine myself to
the details of the story, — to the facts, if I may use this word
in a figurative sense ; but I shall tell the story in my own way,
and sometimes introduce a remark of my own as a comment,
but in such a manner that it may be readily distinguished
from the text.

The first sentence of the story is Weegigijik kcsegook' ("The
old people are encamped "), by which is meant simply : "This
is a tale of ancient times, embodying ancient manners, beliefs,
customs, conditions, and operations." The tale then proceeds.

THE SMALL BABY AND THE BIG BIRD.

••There was once a large Indian village." These two ex-
pressions stand generally at the head, and form the introduc-
tion to every legend. The reader '\% requested to bear in mind
that the Indians, whatever they are now, were once a mighty
people, and had large and well-populated villages. The facts
of their past greatness are supposed to spread sheltering wings
over their present degradation, and to be some compensation
for it. Mow like their more civilized brethren, who glory in
the greatness of their ancestors, and demand to be ennobled
and honored for it! But our story goes on.]

:he

This

liefs,

leds.

AN old woman wanders out into the forest for some pur-
pose, and finds a very small infant lying on the ground.
She takes it up and brings it home. It is so small that she
easily hides it in her mitten. The next day, under the impres-
sion that this babe is something wonderful, and that she is to
protect it and then be protected by it, she accordingly re-
moves with it from the village, and goes far back into the
woods, where she erects a small wigwam and lives alone.
She has no milk for her babe, but she makes a sort of gruel
from the scrapings of the inside of raw-hide, and thus sup-
ports and nourishes it, so that it thrives and does well.

The old woman in the mean time lives on rabbits, which she
knows how to ensnare and dress. By and by the little protegd
begins to run about and talk and play. One day he asks his
foster-mother, Noognmee abcech Icedoo^ ("Grandmother,^
make me a little bow and arrow "). She complies with his
request, and he goes out hunting. He walks about, shooting
his arrow. He sees a mouse, shoots at it with his arrow, and
kills it. He then walks proudly home with all the dignity
of a hunter, informs the old lady that he has killed a huge
wild beast, and directs her to take her carrying-strap and
knife and go out to fetch it home. She goes as directed, and
sees the " tiny monster" stretched on the ground. With great

^ NoogHmkh, voc. NoogUmee, means, literally, "my stepmother, foster-
mother, grandmother," and is a term of respect applied to any aged female.

MICMAC INDIAN LEGENDS,

dignity she tics its legs together, lays it on her back, and
bears it home. lie then gives her further ih'rections. She
is to take off the hide and dry it for a mat to lie on. In the
time of trouble it will prove a ready help, for there is divi-
nation in it. She carefully follows his directions in every
particular.

Not long after, he again comes strutting in, announcing
that he has slaughtered another huge wild beast. WHsto-
woolci'kzv (" We arc highly favored, we have good luck "), he
says, and gives the same directions as before. This time the
old woman finds a red squirrel stretched upon the ground.
She ties it up as before, skins it, and makes another en-
chanted mat of it, which he promises will help her in com'ng
troubles.

Next, he shoots a rabbit. This is treated and dressed in
the same manner as the others were, and the hide trans-
formed into another magical mat.

After this he has higher aims. He means to attack the
larger animals. He inquires of his foster-mother if she can-
not find a Ititcahmtin (stone arrow) for him. She hunts
until she succeeds in finding one. He now constructs a bow
on a larger scale, and goes out early in the morning ; before
nightfall he has killed a moose and a caribou, and brings in
a load of meat. Now, ther. the heart of the old woman
rejoices. She sees the reward of her care and labor, and is
bountifully supplied with he*- ffivorite food, and with suitable
materials for clothing and blnnkets.

The next morning, when he is about starting for the woods,
the old lady cautions him not to cross over to the other side
of a certain swamp. Should he go over, trouble will be the
result. He promises faithfully that he will not cross over.
However, while walking in the woods, he begins to wonder
what there is over there that should deter him from going.
He thinks of it awhile, and then determines to go ; but he
finds the great dismal swamp so difficult to cross that he
gives up the expedition, and turns back after he has gone

THE SMALL BABY AXD THE BIG BIND.

about half-way. He has torn his clothes with the biishcs, and
carries home with him these and other marks of liis rashness
and unfaithfulness to his promise. Hut the news has pre-
ceded him. Those may;ical mats have [jiven the informa-
tion. His foster-mother, all bathed in tears, meets him, and
inquires if he has been over the swamj). He declares that he
has not. She entreats him never to go. " You will be the
means of destroyincj our lives," she says, " if you go." Ap-
he solemnly promises that he will never go.

lUit the next day he is again tempted to cross over; a. id
this time he succeeds, despite the difficulties of the way.
On reaching the farther side, he finds a large Indian village,
but it is deserted. There are many wigwams, but no people.
He goes into the first hut he comes to. The inmates had
evidently decamped in haste. The process of cooking had
been going on when they left, for there hung the kettle over
the fireplacj ; the food in it was cooked, but the kettle had
not been removed from the fire. He enters another wigwam,
where the food has been cooked and dipped out into dishes,
but not eaten. In another, there were indications that the
meal had just been finished when the inmates departed. All
this looked so suspicious that he left the place without enter-
ing any more wigwams.

He now returns home, only to find his foster-mother in
great trouble. "Oh, my child," she says, "why did you go
there ? You have been the cause of our destruction. Now
wc must remove thither. To-morrow we must ro."

Accordingly, the next morning they arc impelled, charmed,
constrained by magical influence, to bundle up their ootap-
soonooivdl (effects), and cross over to the deserted village.
They select a commodiously constructed lodge, and establish
themselves in it. In the evening the boy asks the old lady
for a single hair from her head. He uses this for a bow-
string, and makes a bow and little arrows with stone heads
to suit it. Having prepared his weapons, he lays them
aside until they shall be wanted.

MICMAC INDIAN LEGENDS.

The next morning a huge Culloo is seen hovering over
the wigwam, reaching down his terrible claws, in order to
seize and carry off the inmates while they are asleep. The
little boy, however, is too cunning to be thus caught. He is
watching and ready. He seizes his tiny bow and arrows, of
which he has six, and shoots them all into the breast of the
bird, which tries in vain to extract them, and soon spreads
his wings for home. He reaches home with great difficulty,
faint and sick from the effects of his wounds.

Early on the following day the boy leaves his home for an
excursion into the Culloo territory. He tells the old lady
that in order to learn how he is faring, and whether he is alive
or dead, she must watch the mats and pipe. Should she
see blood on them, she n-^ay know that he is killed ; should
she see no blood, she may know that all is well with him.
So he bids her adieu, and goes on.

On and on he travels, over hill and dale, mountain, marsh,
and morass, until he has nearly reached the village of the
savage old Culloo chief; there he meets a troop of girls
going out for fir-boughs to spread down in their wigwams.
They are talking merrily, and uttering loud shouts of laughter;
but the moment they see him they begin to weep bitterly.
He inquires the cause of this sudden grief. They tell him
it is on his account, and that of his parents and sister. " To-
morrow," say they, " at noon, your parents and sister are to
be killed and eaten by the old Culloo chief." He then goes
on [we may suppose he quickened his pace], and they con-
tinue collecting their fir-boughs.

But he had previously encountered a company of men
going out on a hunting excursion. They were talking loud
and laughing when he met them, but they began immediately
to weep on seeing him, and to tell him the same sad story.
From the girls he has learned the size and form of the village
and the location of the lodge where the chief lives, and also
where his own father's lodge is. The chief's lodge is in the
centre, and the others are placed round him in concentric

BSSIB^SSQ

THE SMALL BABY AND THE BIG BIRD.

circles. The Culloo devours them in rotation, and our hero's
parents arc next in turn.

[No more light is thrown by the story on his history pre-
vious to his being picked up by the old woman, but I presume
we are at liberty to fill up the lacuna. He was dropped
from his mother's bosom while the savage old Culloo was
carrying her off through the air, and spared to be reared by
the good providence of the Great Spirit, to be an avenger of
wrong and outrage, and to be a great deliverer.]

Having received all this information, the young man pro-
ceeds to the town, where he goes at once to the lodge of his
parents. His parents and s'ster fall a weeping as soon as they
set eyes upon him, for they immediately recognize him. His
father says : " Alas ! my son, what a pity that you have come
hither! To-morrow we are all to be killed and devoured.
Would that you had stayed away ! "

But present wants are not allowed to be neglected on ac-
count of coming troubles. The girl immediately gets him
some dinner. While he is eating his dinner a son of the old
chief comes over with a whining message from his father.
His father is very ill, and, hoping that the stranger may have
some medical skill, -vishes that he should visit him.

" Tell him," he r. plies, " that I will come when I have eaten
my dinner; and tch l.<im further, that I will kill him instantly
when I cor- c. Go home, and deliver this message to your
father." The boy returns home, and the straufjci composedly
finishes his iT.eal. When the chief's son --■- .-■ at his father's
hut, the sick man inquires, " My son, what said your brother?"
"He told rne that he could not come until he had finished his
dinner, and that he would kill you instantly when he did
come."

So when the young man had finished his eating, he rose
and said, " Now I will go and sco the sick man." When he
enters the chief's lodge,, he occs the poor old creature there,
and his six arrows stickin;] f^ast in his breast. " My brothe*-,"
says the chief, "my boso.a pains me dreadfully," "Yes,"

I ^li

MICMAC INDIAN LEGENDS.

says the young man, " and I shot those arrows into your
breast when you came to carry us away and devour us.
Now, then, I have come to finish the worl< which I so auspi-
ciously began." So saying, he strikes the old man a blow
with his hatchet and kills him. He then kills the whole
brood, — one, and only one, escapes. He is a little fellow,
who has crept away, hidden under the boughs. The young
man looks around to see if any have hidden themselves, and
discovers the boughs moving. He suspects what is there,
and calls out to him to come forth and be killed ; but he oegs
off "Spare me; I have it in my power to reward you. I
will carry you about on my back wherever you wish to go."
" But perhaps you will watch your opportunity to kill me
some time for killing your parents." "No, I will not; and
when I am grown up I will take you to a place where you
will find some beautiful girls, from among whom you may
choose a wife." " I will spare you," he replies, " on these
conditions ; and should -"ou ever entertain any designs against
my life, I shall be be. and with you, for I shall know it in
time, and will immediately kill you before you can kill
me.

The young man now goes back to his father's lodge, to
their inexpressible joy, and to the relief of all the captives.
He takes the young bird Culloosees along with him. The bird
is fed daily; he soon grows up and begins to try his pinions.
After a while he is able to take long excursions; but he
always comes back to his owner, and gives every proof of
faithfulness.

One morning, after having taken his breakfast, he says,
'Nsees (" My brother, older than I "), " let me give you a ride
through the air on my back." So they go out. His master
seats himself quietly on his back, and the bird then flies up
and carries him far away, but after awhile brings him back to
camp. The next morning he proposes to carry him out on
his hunting-excursion, — to go a hawking. So they sail over
the forest until they find a moose, which the young man kills

■
:

THE SMALL BABY AND THE BIG BIRD.

and dresses. The Culloo cats his dinner first, and then all is
piled on his back and safely conveyed home.^

Their next adventure is to go for his old foster-mother.
While she is quietly seated in her wigwam at her work, she
sees the terrible Culloo approaching, and is greatly alarmed,
expecting of course to be killed and eaten up. But she is
soon reassured. Her boy shouts to her not to be alarmed,
for it is his tamed animal ; they have come to fetch her
to their now peaceful home. He assures her that she has
nothing to fear, a,= he has destroyed the cruel old magician
chief. They accordingly gather up all their effects, which
they pile on the bird's back ; he bears them rapidly, safely,
and faithfully back to their home in the vieskeck oodini (large
Indian town).

The next day the Culloo says, " My brother, come, let us
now go to the place where the beautiful young women are."
He agrees to the proposal, and prepares to go in search of a
wife. Quietly seating himself upon the back of his " winged
horse," he finds himself carried up higher and higher into the
aerial regions, until the earth, having grown smaller and
smaller, finally disappears altogether from view. Here they
come to another earth, surrounded by a lofty, frowning preci-
pice ; but the Culloo scales these inaccessible heights, and
lands his rider safe upon a beautiful plain, where stands, not
far from the edge of the cliff, a large, well-built wigwam.
They walk in. There sit an old woman and her two daugh-
ters. The mother and mistress of the establishment intimates
her knowledge of their visit, and her consent thereto by the
usual invitation and address, Kutdkunioogxvald 'niloosdok'
(" Come up towards the back part of the wigwam, my son-
in-law"). They walk up and take their seats. The two
young women occupy, according to custom, one side of the
wigwam. The first thing to be done, according to Indian

^ These birds are described in some legends as able to carry a great num-
ber of men on their backs at once, with immense piles of fresh meat; they
have to be fed every few minutes with a whole quarter of beef, which is thrust
into the mouth while they are on the wing.

MICMAC INDIAN LEGENDS.

•<

i^^ \

etiquette, is to prepare food for strangers when they arrive.
The mother accordingly hangs on her kettle and prepares
food for them, — makes them some porridge of the inside
scrapings of a moose-skin. The Culloo whispers to the other
and tells him not to eat it, for it is poisoned, but to stir it
round and round in the dish. He does as directed. As he
stirs it round, it foams up and overflows, when he dashes it —
I should SP'-. very ungallantly — into the old lady's face.
Instantly thf ikiv. of )ier face peels off, and she rushes out
into the opei: ^w, saying to the girls as she goes out, " I
cannot, as it seen, please them with my cooking ; do you
attempt it."

Thereupon one of the girls rises and goes to work. She
brings out some choice pieces of moose meat, caribou meat,
and beaver meat, puts them into a kettle, stirs the fire, and
has them cooked and set before the guests in a very short
time. So they eat and are satisfied. The shades of evening
gather round them ; the young man makes his choice between
the two girls, and without ceremony takes her for his wife.
Before they are asleep, she whispers in his ear, " My mother
will again attempt to kill you to-morrow; she has already
killed a great many men who have come to take us for their
wives."

The next morning, before breakfast, the mother-in-law
informs him that he must wrestle with her,^ as this is the
custom of the place, and all her sons-in-law have complied.
He says to her, Alajul ah ("All right"), and they walk
out immediately for the contest. She girds herself with a
belt made of raw-hide, and chooses her ground on the verge
of a cliff, intending to toss him over and kill him. His faith-
ful servant, however, approaches, and whispers in his ear that
he will watch on the wing below, and if he falls will catch
him and bring him safely up.

1 This idea of setting a suitor to do something which shall endanger his life,
or of killing him for the non-performance, occurs so often in these old legends
that the custom of the time is clearly indicated thereby.

THE SMALL BABY AND THE BIG BUiD.

I ■

The two wrestlers now clinch and prepare for action. She
tells the young man to make tlie fust attempt, but he declines
the honor of precedence, and invites her to test his strength
and skill. She makes a plunge at him, exerting all her
strength, but she cannot move him from his feet. It is now
his turn, and with one toss he sends her flying sheer over the
precipice, and down she goes to the bottom and is dashed to
pieces. The Culloo is watching on the wing below; he sees
her coming, but turns his head away and lets her pass.

The two men now returned to the tent. There was great
rejoicing at the result of the contest. The girls are glad their
old mother is dead. Weledaksooltijik.

They conclude to move at once from this spot, and go
bag and baggage some distance into the woods, where they
erect a comfortable wigwam. The men hunt, and keep the
family well supplied with food ; the two women slice up and
dry the meat, and take care of the house. This is always the
business of the women.

The next event of importance is the birth of a son ; and all
are greatly pleased with the baby. He was, no doubt, the
greatest marvel that they had ever seen ; but attention to his
babyship must not be allowed to interfere with graver mat-
ters. The two women and the child had to be left alone in
the wigwam while the men were away on their hunting
expeditions.

One day while the men were in the forest, and the women
were at home, the Culloo became troubled. His friend ob-
served that he could not eat, and inquired the cause. He
replied: "There is trouble at home. Some strange Indians
came there last evening and stole away the babe, and I do
not know who or where they are who have done the deed."
At this information the distressed father makes a spring for
home, and leaps upon the back of his faithful friend. " Hold !
hold a minute!" the Culloo cries; "let us go out into the
open air first, and then we will make for home as fast as pos-
sible." They hurry homeward. As they approach the wig-

ff^

MICMAC INDIAN LEGENDS.

warn, they hear the loud lamentations of the women ; and as
soon as they enter, they are told the sad tale. Some strange
Indians had been there, and robbed them of their precious
babe. Culloo says, " Let us go after them ; " and they set out
immediately. They search a long while, and at last, after
going a great distance, they reach an Indian village where
they suspect that the child is. It is now so dark and foggy
that their approach is unperceived. They discover a large
wigwam, around and within which a dance is going on.
The dancers are men, and all are naked. The Culloo and his
friend ^ke . >cat near the door outside, conceal themselves,
and await an opportunity to seize the boy. He is now as big
as a I lan. His fn»her cannot tell him from the others; but
Culloo knows him, and gives the word. When the child
comes round to the door in the dance, the father must grab
him, and be off in an instant. So they watch; and soon the
Culloo says, " Seize him 1 " He misses his grasp, and has to
wait till he comes round again. The second time he is more
successful, and catches the man, who instantly becomes a
child in his father's arms. He leaps astride the winged horse,
who, before the party have time to recover from their sur-
prise, is far up in the air and on the homeward way.

The women are anxiously waiting, and in the distance hear
the welcome sound of the crying child. Soon the men arrive,
and all rejoice at the recovery of the lost one.

But now great caution is necessary. They must first de-
stroy all the enchantment that may still linger about the
child. The Culloo gives all the directions, and they are
minutely followed. He must not be allowed to nurse until
he has been carefully washed all over and dressed anew. He
is then put to the breast, and the enchantment is destroyed.
In the evening they are directed to prepare their weapons
and to look out for an attack, as the defeated Indians will
surely seek revenge.

Each man prepares for himself a bow and six stone-headed
arrows, and the next morning no one is suffered to go out of

THE SMALL BABY AND THE B:G BIRD.

the wigwam. At the given time the young man is directed
to shoot an arrow through the opening of the wigwam above.
Immediately they hear a man falling from the top, with a rat-
tling noise. Then the Culloo shoots up another arrow, and
another man falls. Each one shoots his six arrows, and each
one causes six men to fall. They are now told to remain
still inside the lodge for some time to come. First, the Culloo
goes out. The wounded men have all arisen and gone home ;
but they have left traces of their wounds, for the ground is
covered with blood.

After they have taken their morning meal, their winged
friend directs them to pack up at once and leave the place,
as these enemies will surely return in greater force, and kill
them all. So they remove. First, they return to the old
wigwam, where the wife was found ; the sister-in-law gathers
up the things that had been left, especially her own wearing
apparel ; then all, mounting the back of the Culloo, sail away
over the bank that bounds this high region, and descend
towards mother earth. Lower and lower they wing their
way, until finally the earth appears in view, and after a while
they discern the village whence they went in search of a wife.
They come to the lodge of the young man's father, and find
the old people still alive, who are wonderfully pleased to see
them, and delighted with the little grandchild and with the
•daughter-in-law. [We may take the liberty to add that the
sister-in-law is soon wooed and won by some tall, dark-eyed
chieftain, and makes an excellent wife and mother; she soon
becomes reconciled to the change of customs and climate of
these lower regions, and ceases to pine for her Highland
home. Our tale, however, says nothing of all this.]

The neighbors prepare a feast, and spend the night in
dancing, revelry, and play.

MIC MAC INDIAN LEGENDS.

THE INDIAN WHO WAS TRANSFORMED INTO
A MEGUMOOWESOO.

w I

THERE was once a large Indian village where a chief
and many people resided ; among them was a
young man who was so ugly-looking, so dilatory, and so
awkward in hunting and in every other kind of business,
that he was generally despised and ridiculed. He lived with
an old woman who was his grandmother, both his parents
being dead. He used to go out hunting with the rest; and
one day, lagging behind as usual, he went astray. A heavy
storm of wind and rain came on, and he was lost.

As he was without provisions, he wandered about hungry
and faint, and would have perished but for a man who kindly
cared for him, asked him home, fed, and entertained him for
the night. His wigwam was large, commodious, and well
stored with provisions and fur; the skins of beavers, foxes,
martens, minks, and muskrats being stuffed in behind the
poles of the wigwam all around.

In the evening the owner of the establishment brought out
a flute, and played upon it in a most charming manner. It
turned out that the occupant of this wigwam was a Megumoo-
wesoo.' The young man was delighted with his company,
and wished to remain with this newly discovered companion,
who treated him so kindly.

1 A sort of demigod, a fawn or satyr, possessed of superhuman power, often
meeting with human beings and enticing them away. The Indians still believe
in the existence of these demigods, but regard it as a great sin and calamity to
be enticed away and entrapped by them.

■HBillP

THE INDIAN WHO WAS TRANSFORMED.

The next morning, however, when he awakes, he is kindly
informed that he is now at Hberty to take home as much of
the food and fur as he can carry on his back. The Megii-
moowesoo tics up for him a bundle which is so big and heavy
that he finds himself unable to move it, much less to carry it.
His friend, offering to cairy it for him, shoulders it, and they
go off together. Arriving at the outskirts of the village, they
rest the load upon the ground, the bearer saying to the young
man, "I have assisted you so far. but I can go no farther;
should you wish to see me at any time, come out here and I
will meet you."' He then leaves him, and the young man
goes home. To his surprise, he produces great excitement.
He is astonished to learn that he has been gone a whole year,
and has been given up as dead. It was supposed either that
he had starved to death, or drowned, or frozen to death. The
people gather in — young and old, men, women, and children,
from all quarters — to look at him and ask him questions.
He tells them that he has been hunting, and has left his load
at the outskirts of the village. They go out and bring it in,
and are amazed at its size and weight. They have to unbind
and divide it into many portions before they can transport
it to the village.

In the mean time the young man has resumed his place in
his grandmother's wigwam. After a while he thinks of taking
to himself a wife ; having become so rich and prosperous, he
looks somewhat high, ugly as he is in form and features, and
bad as his reputation has hitherto been. So, according to
Indian custom, a custom not wholly done away with yet,
he consults his guardian, and deputes her to make the need-
ful request of the girl's parents, — in short, to obtain for him
a wife. One brief sentence, one single word, expresses in
very figurative language the idea to this old lady. He says
to her one day, Noogumce, noogoo, ooldgwa mitoogw^
("Grandmother, come on! make an evening visit"). She
understands what this means, and says to him, " My grand-
child, where shall I go ? " " To the chief's house," he answers.

i i i

i i' ^

^; I;

MICMAC INDIAN LEGENDS,

So she goes over and introduces the matter very curtly, in
this wise: " Chief, I and my grandson are tired of Hving as
we do, there being only two of us. I am becoming old and
feeble, and cannot take care of the house as it requires." The
chief understands all the rest. It is a request that he will
allow one of his daughters to go and be mistress of this
establishment, and make a third in the party. He does not
consider long. " Your grandson is ugly and lazy, and you
are poor." This is a flat refusal. She fails in her enterprise,
and goes home and tells her grandson. He takes it very
coolly. It does not drive him mad. He simply says, Moo
ejela/idookzu ("We have done our part; we cannot help it;
it is not our fault ").

Soon after this he recollects what the Megumoowesoo told
him, — that should he wish to see him again, he should go out
to the spot where they last parted, and he would find him
there. So taking leave of his grandmother, he retires to the
spot indicated ; and there, sure enough, he finds his friend.
He greets him cordially, and invites him home. They do
not have to travel far; he finds all the luxuries there that
he found in his first visit. But they meet with a remarkable
adventure on their way. The Megiimoowesoo kills a large,
fat moose, dresses it, and divides the carcass in two parts,
places one of the parts on his own shoulders, and asks his
companion to fetch along the other. To his surprise he was
able to shoulder the burden with all ease, and carry it without
tiring.

In the evening the Megumoowesoo brings out his flute
again, and plays upon it. After a while he says, Neddf,
ii£doive-pcepoo-gw(!n ? (" Comrade, do you know how to play
the flute?") He replies that he does not. He then tells
him to take the flute and he will show him how to play. He
applies the instrument to his lips, puts his fingers upon the
holes, and to his astonishment and delight he can play as
sweetly as his friend. He passes two nights this time at this
" enchanted castle," and is then dismissed. When the Megu-

I: 1:

THE INDIAN WHO WAS TRANSFORMED.

moowcsoo sends him away, lie endows him with the same
magical powers which he himself possesses, removes all his
deformities, and enables him to work all the wonders he can
work, and then leaves him. He then binds up a monstrous
bundle of furs and venison, of which the wigwam is full,
shoulders the burden, and walks triumphantly home. When
he enters his grandmother's wigwam, he discovers that he is
so transformed that he cannot be recognized until he tells
who he is ; and he also learns that he has been absent from
the village two fcars instead of two nights, as it had seemed
to him. His grandmother is wonderfully delighted on learn-
ing who he is, and what he has become. The whole village
is now astir ; and all the people, old and young, come trooping
to the wigwam, greatly astonished to see the change that has
come over him.

In the evening he takes out his flute and plays it. The
inhabitants of the village are charmed and astonished beyond
measure. The young women, arrayed in their best robes and
ornaments, flock to the wigwam continually, each one
" setting her cap " for him ; but he treats them with great
contempt, turns his back upon them literally, and looks in
the opposite direction. Presently the chief comes over to
the lodge on special business. He has an errand with the
old grandmother. He informs her that he is now willing that
his daughter should come over to their lodge and reside
with them. But the young man replies, Mogivd, zvcdiimeda-
bimooloo noogSo (" I have no need of your service now ").
He has become independent; and now that h • s so rich and
beautiful, he resents the slight put upon him when he was
poor and ugly.

In a few days he repeats the request to his grandmother
which he had made on a former occasion, to go out and find
a wife for him, or, as it is poetically expressed in the tale,
make an evening visit. She says, Noojeech, tdine leMt^sf
(" My grandchild, where shall I go? ") He replies that away
to the extremity of the village is a small wigwam, in which

MICMAC /A'D/.IN LEGENDS.

i t

reside two poor orphan girls. To that wigwam he desires
her to go. She rises slowly, goes to the appointed place,
does her errand, and ininiediatel)' receives a favorable answer.
She says to one of the girls, " Will you come over and stop
with us?" The young lady understands the import of the
question, and modestly replies, " If you and your grandson
both desire it, I will go." She is given to understand that
this is the case. She then goes home immediately with the
mother-in-law, and becomes the young man's wife without
further ado.

But when this is noised abroad, there is a great commotion
made. The other girls are enraged, and are ready to kill the
poor bride. But they rave and rage in vain. The young
man removes from the village, takes his grandmother, his
wife, and her sister, and goes far back into the woods, and —
" further deponent saith not."

! s

II !

118

■ ■

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t ■■'

THE ICE MAN.

XI.

THE ICE MAN.

k \-

i -

■■■|i

A FABLE.

/^N the banks of a wide river there was situated a large
^— ' Indian town. One very cold winter, nearly all the
inhabitants perished. The few who survived did so with the
greatest difficulty. But spring a. id the warm weather come
at last. The snows melt from the hills, the ice from the
streams and lakes, and all float down with the freshet except
one huge ice-cake. This lodges in the intervale some dis-
tance from the bank, and for a long time resists the influence
of the sun, and makes the air cold for a long distance round.

At length a stout, resolute Indian determines to get rid of
the hindrance; so arming himself with a huge bludgeon, he
boldly attacks the monster, and as he pounds away he
exclaims, " Come on, do your best, freeze me again if you are
able." At every blow the enemy gives way, and is at last so
reduced that by dint of prying and pushing it is tumbled over
the bank and borne away by the current. "There," exclaims
the Indian, " be off with yourself, and never come back ! "
"Thank you," exclaims the Ice King; "you have done me a
great favor; but I will make you another visit next winter."

So the man works round all summer; but as autumn
approaches, he bethinks himself of the threat of the Ice. He
concludes that the threat will be carried out, and he prepares
to battle with the foe. His first step is to erect a wigwam in
a place convenient for fuel and water. Then he lays in a
good store of kindling-wood, cutting down old dry trees, and
splitting the fuel up fine. He prepares oil to be poured on

n i

lOO

MICMAC INDIAN LEGENDS.

in case of emergency, and fits himself out well with winter
clothes. Winter comes at last, and with it comes the Ice
King. All round his influence is felt, stiffening the lakes and
rivers, and covering the ground with snow. The weather
becomes colder and colder, until one day the Ice King himself
walks boldly into the wigwam, and takes his seat on the side
opposite to where the man is sitting. So cold are his body
and breath that the fire is nearly extinguished, and the man
all but chilled to death. He bestirs himself, and kindles the
fire, putting on dry wood and pouring on oil. After a while
the fire begins to blaze up, and the man's limbs become active
and strong. He then bestirs himself with more energy, and
piles on wood. The fire roars, crackles, and blazes higher
and higher, and the Ice King hitches back. Presently he
takes another hitch, until he brings up against the wigwam,
and can get no farther. Then he begins to sweat and grow
smaller and weaker apace. Finally he cries for quarter. " My
friend," he says, " you have won the victory ; now, then, let
me go." Then the man rises, takes the poker and shoves the
fire away from the side where his sister is sitting, and allows
the Ice King to pass out. So he rises and passes out, saying
as he goes, " My friend, you have fairly conquered me twice in
succession ; now you shall be my master forever." So saying,
he takes his departure.

After this, that man has no trouble with the cold. It is
summe; with him all the year round. He needs neither cap,
nor mittens, nor moccasins.

[Such i;5 the fable. The moral is easy. First, resolution
overcomes all difficulties. Second, " a wise man foreseeth
the evil and hideth himself." If he has been caught one
winter unprepared, he will take care to look out the next
time. Third, a man who has had the foresight, wisdom, and
industry to provide himself with a comfortable dwelling,
plenty of fuel, and suitable clothing, does not mind the
winter. He has warm weather all the year round.]

t f

THE INVISIBLE BOY.

lOI

XII.

THE INVISIBLE BOY.

TEAM' AND OOCHIGEASKW.

■\TAMESKEET' oodim Kaspcrnkfc (a large Indian village,
was once situated on the borders of a lake).i At
the extreme end of the village, somewhat retired, lived a
youth whose tcomUl was a moose. This youth had the
power of assuming the form of a moose, and in addition to
this, he could render himself invisible. He offered to marry
the first girl that could see him. The young women of the
village were allowed to make the trial, and many flocked to
the lodge to try their luck.

The young man's sister kept house for him. She always
received his visitors kindly, and towards evening, when it
was time for him to come in from his hunting, she would
mvite them to take a walk with her down to the shore of the
lake. When she saw her brother approaching (for to her he
was never invisible), she would say to her companions, " Do
you see my brother?" Some of them would answer yea
and some would answer nay. -^// t^hocjik, ad, alt tclooejik,
mogzvad. To those who thought they had seen him, or who
wanted to make the rest think so, she would say, Coo^oozvd
zviskobookstchf ("Of what is his shoulder-strap made?")
She generally received as an answer the name of one of the
various articles out of which this important portion of the
hunter's equipment was usually manufactured. Sometimes
they would say. "A strip of raw-hide;" sometimes. "A

a llkf '"^'''"' °'' ^'""^"^' ^ '"''" ^''^'^^'"^' °' ^^'^^'"^- °» '^^ borders of

ill!

102

MIC MAC INDIAN LEGENDS.

m:.

withe;" and sometimes, something else. But the moment
they replied to this question, she would know that they did
not see him. "Very well," she would answer; "now let us
go home to the wigwam."

When they entered the wigwam, she would tell them not
to sit in her brother's seat, but that they must all keep on her
side of the room, and not by any means cross ove- *'" his.
When he came and threw down his burden, they cou. see it.
When he pulled off his moccasins, and his sister hung them
up to dry, they could see them. Then the sister would set
the girls to cook the supper. They would cheerfully engage
in getting the food ready, indulging the hope that when they
came to eat it they would be able to sec him. They were
mistaken, however, for they did not see him. Sometimes
they remained all night, the guest of their female friend, but
they saw nothing of the other occupant of the lodge. The
next morning they would return to their own homes, and
others would make the same attempt with similar success.

Now it happened that in the village there resided an old
man, a widower, who had three daughters, the youngest of
whom was puny and often sick. The others considered her
a great source of trouble, and ill-treated her; the oldest girl,
on whom devolved the charge of the house after her mother's
death, was especially unkind to her. The second daughter
was less unfriendly, and sometimes ventured to take the poor
little girl's part ; but the oldest kicked and cuffed her about,
and often burned her hands and face intentionally. When
the father would come in from hunting and inquire respecting
the little child's troubles and burns on her arms, face, and
other parts of her body, the oldest girl would throw all the
blame on the little girl herself. She had been playing with
the fire or near the fire, and had burned herself. The marks,
scars, and scabs that covered her gave her the name of
Oochigeaskw (the girl that is covered with scabs).

One day the older girls arrayed themselves in their finest
clothes, and went down to the wigwam of the Invisible Boy,

THE INVISIBLE BOY.

103

whose name was Team' (the Moose). They spent the after-
noon with his sister, and at the proper time she invited them
to walk with her down to the borders of the lake, and watch
for the coming of her brother. They went ; and when she
saw him, she put the usual question, " Do you see my
brother? " The eldest one said, " I do." The next one said
honestly, " I do not." " Then tell me what his shoulder-
strap is made of," said the sister to the older girl. " Of a strip
of raw-hide," she replied. " Very well," said the girl; "let
us go home." They went home to the wigwam, and the
hunter came. They saw the load of moose-meat which he
brought, and the clothing of his feet, after it was removed,
but Jiim they saw not. They remained all night, and returned
the next morning to their father's house.

That evening, when the old man arrived, he brought a
quantity of small, beautiful, variegated shells, out of which
in former times wampum was manufactured, and for which,
in these later times, glass beads are substituted, and called by
the name zveidpcskool. He gave them to the girls, and the
next day they engaged in iiapaivcjik (stringing them up).

That day little Oochigeaskw gets an old pair of her father's
moccasins, soaks them, and asks her sisters to give her some
of the pretty shells, a few of each kind. The older sister
refuses, and tries to prevent the other from giving her any.
She calls her a " lying little pest," and tells her sister not to
mind her. " Oh ! " she answers, " the poor little thing ! let
us give her some, a few of each kind." This is done. Then
she goes out and gets some sheets of birch bark, out of which
she manages to construct a dress, making some figures on the
bark, and fashioning out of it garments similar to those worn
in ancient times by the Indian women, but which are now, to
the great chagrin of some of the elder ones, rapidly degen-
erating into the fashion of their pale-faced sisters. She
constructs a petticoat and loose gown, a cap, leggins, and a
handkerchief, and on her tiny feet she puts her father's huge
moccasins, which come up nearly to her knees, and thus arrayed

104

MI CM AC INDIAN LEGENDS.

i!i ,' )

she goes forth to try her luck in the celebrated wigwam at
the remote end of the village. She has to undergo a contin-
uous storm of ridicule throughout the entire journey. Her
sisters make sport of her, and order her not to go away. The
men and boys shout after her as she goes on in her funny
dress, and cry, " Shame ! shame ! " But she hears them not,
nor regards them, but resolutely pushes on. She succeeds in
her enterprise, of course. [A writer of romance, whether
savage or civilized, who would make her fail, would deserve a
horsewhipping, and would further deserve to have his book
burned. Such pluck insures the reward.]

The little girl in her harlequin dress, her face covered with
sores, and her hair singed off, is kindly received by the sister
of Team'. When nightfall comes on, she is invited to take a
walk down to the borders of the lake to watch the young
man's return. Presently the sister sees him coming, and asks
her companion if she can see him. She saj's she can. "Tell
me, if you see him, what his shoulder-strap is made of" "A
rainbow," she exclaims. " Ah ! you can see him," says the
girl. "Now let us hasten home, and get ready for him."
So home they hie, and the sister first strips her guest of the
uncouth and uncomfortable robes, and administers a thorough
ablution. All her scabs and scars come off, and her skin is
beautiful and fair. She next opens her box and brings out a
wedding garment, in which she directs her to array herself;
then she combs her hair, braids it, and ties it up. The poor
child thinks within herself, " I wonder what she is going to
comb, for I have no hair on my head." But under the magic
touch of her friend's hand, beautiful, flowing hair adorns her
head. After she is thus prepared and arrayed, she is directed
to go and occupy the side of the wigwam where the brother
will sit, and to take the wife's seat, next to the door.

Immediately after this, the young man arrives, comes in
laugning, and says, Wdjoolkoos (" So we are found, are
we")? Alajul da ("Yes"), she answers. So he takes her
for his wife.

THE INVISIBLE BOY.

105

The scene now shifts to her father's home. In the evening
the father comes in from his hunting, and inquires where the
child is. Her sisters throw no Hght on the question. They
say, " We saw her going away, and called after her to come
back, but she did not obey." Bright and early the next morn-
ing he goes in quest of her. He searches and inquires in all
the wigwams, but finds no trace of her. He enters the wig-
wam of the Invisible Boy. He sees two young women sitting
there, but does not recognize his child, so wonderfully has she
been transformed. But she recognizes him, and tells him all
that has happened. He gives his cordial assent and consent
to the transaction, tells the girl to remain there and be a good
and dutiful wife, and assist her husband in all his domestic
affairs. Then he returns home, and tells the news to the
other daughters. He tells them what a fine looking fellow
their sister's husband is, and how beautiful she herself has
become. [My "edition" of the story fails to state how the
news was received by the two sisters and the other ambitious
young ladies of the village. We are quite at liberty to supply
the missing page. But we must not overlook the fact that
everywhere, deeply seated in the human consciousness, is
the idea that the Supreme Ruler will relieve the oppressed
and humble the oppressor. We must now return to the
newly married pair, along whose pathway in life — brief and
full of marvellous incidents — the thread of the narrative
conducts us.]

Team' and his wife and sister live together in peace and
harmony. Team' supplies food and raiment by the chase ;
the women take care of these, and prepare them for use.
The birth of a son occurs in due time. He grows up, and
begins to run about and play. His aunt one day called his
mother's attention to a moose's leg bone which lay in the
wigwam, and tells her to take special care that the child does
not break it; after the father shall have come in from his
hunting, he may break it, and eat the marrow. One day,
shortly after this, the women are very much occupied, having

in <

1 06

MICMAC INDIAh^ LEGENDS.

I i

a large quantity of meat to slice up and dry. They are at
work out of doors, and the little boy is allowed to run about
and play, almost unnoticed. He has a little maul for a play-
thing, and goes about hitting everything he comes to, and at
length smashes the leg bone. Soon after, his aunt, having
occasion to step into the wigwam, sees the broken bone. She
immediately begins to weep, calls her sister-in-law to come
and tie up the child, and go with her to look for her brother,
for his leg is broken. So she does as directed, ties up the
child in his cradle, slings him on her back, and they go a
long distance, taking the direction that the man had taken in
the morning. At length they find him sitting down by his
load of moose-meat, with his leg broken. He tells his wife to
take the child and go back to her father, as he can no longer
support her. He tells his sister to go back to the wigwam
with his wife, and then to return and bring a kettle and an
axe. This is done. The wife goes home to her father, and
takes her babe with her ; the sister takes the axe and kettle,
and goes back to her brother. She finds him sitting there
still, in the same place where she left him. He now says to
her, " My sister, if you love me, kill me with the axe, and cut
off my head." The poor girl remonstrates. She can see no
necessity for such extreme measures. His leg will knit
together again, and she hopes he will recover. He tells her
this can never be, that his end has come, and by hastening
his death she can save him from a prolongation of trouble
and pain. She must therefore obey his directions. When
he falls, he will be a moose, and she must skin the animal,
dress it, and cure the flesh. His head she must skin, and
keep it always with her, as a " medicine bag; " and while she
keeps that, he will be her " guardian genius," her tcomiil,
and she will be safe and prosperous; but should, she let it go
out of her hands, misfortune and calamity will be the result.
Upon this, she complies with his request, strikes him down
with the axe, cuts off his head, and, sure enough, there lies a
real moose before her. This she proceeds to dress. She

THE LVVISIBLE BOY.

107

removes the dead animal from that place some distance up
into the woods, away from the shore of the lake, kindles a fire,
and slices up and dries the meat to preserve it, according to
custom. She tries out the tallow, and preserves it in cakes.
She cracks up the bones, puts them into the kettle and boils
out the marcow; this she puts into a dried bladder, and, to
preserve it carefully, skins the head, and makes a bag of
the skin. She is two days at her work, and when all is
finished, she removes some distance farther up into the woods,
erects a wigwam for herself, carries all the moose-meat thither,
and hangs it up or spreads it out on sticks properly placed
over the smoke and fire, that it may be thoroughly dried and
preserved.

There she passes the night. The next morning, as she
awakes, she sees a huge giant, Kookwes, stalking up towards
her humble tent. He enters the wigwam ; she addresses him
respectfully, calls him her brother, and invites him to a seat.
He looks up and sees the abundant supply of venison that
fills the place; he praises her industry, at the same time put-
ting on a hungry look. She takes the hint, rises, hangs on
her kettle, and puts half the moose-meat into it. When it is
cooked, she unrolls a sheet of birch-bark, and places the food
on it before him. She takes a wooden dish, and places in it
half the tallow, half the marrow, and half of everything ; he
eats it all. Being now satisfied, he lies down for a nap. After
a while he awakes, and proceeds to give his hostess some
advice. He recommends her to remain where she is. and not
think of removing. He assures her that it will be a very dif-
ficult matter to reach an Indian settlement. Among other
obstacles, two huge serpents, one on each side of the path
and as big as mi^untains, will guard the way. She cannot
possibly get around them, she cannot climb over them, and it
will be impossible to pass between them. Having finished
his information and his advice, he takes his leave; not, how-
ever, before she has bestowed upon him the other half of her
venison, enough to make him one more meal.

io8

MIC MAC INDIAN LEGENDS.

A, ,

lili

ffl:

ii?!l:i

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After he is fairly out of sight, she goes away herself. Not-
withstanding the interest the old savage has seemed to take
in her welfare, she strongly suspects that he was planning for
his own interests, not for hers. She holds the charmed and
magical " medicine bag " in her hands, and, following its im-
pulses and guidance, she is safe. This tells her to go away,
and she goes accordingly.

She finds that what the Kookwes has told her about the
difficulties and dangers of the way is true. She comes to
what seem to be two mountains, but they are in reality two
huge serpents, or giant magicians, who have assumed this
form. But she grasps her "charm," her icomul, "guardian
genius," in her hand, and keeps steadily on. She finds that
the serpents are fast asleep, and she passes right on without
any harm. These enemies have been baffled.

By and by she comes to a point of land extending into the
water, where she sees Meskcek oodiin (a large Indian village)
Pcgzv^lkfil wtgwdmiil. There she halts, and goes into the
first wigwam she comes to, — a very small one, — and stays
all night. She finds two old women there, one of them a
miserable, wicked old hag, but the other quite a civil and
good woman. The next day she goes out and looks around
the village, plays at the wdltesdkiim} She returns to the
same wigwam, where she remains all night. The next morn-
ing, when she goes out, she forgets her " medicine bag." She
had stowed it away under the boughs and eaves of the wig-
wam the evening before, supposing no one saw her. But the
ugly old creature mentioned before was not asleep, as she had
supposed, but awake and watching. She saw where the bag
was put, and after its owner had gone out, she went to see
what was in it As she drew it out, lo ! she had her hand in
a man's hair ; a living man was there, who sprang to his feet.

1 A sort of dice made of pieces of bone cut round like buttons without eyes,
and having marks on one side. They are tossed up in a dish, and the manner
in which they fall indicates the progress of the game. This game is generally
played by two women.

THE INVISIBLE BOY.

109

all painted, and his arms bound round and round, all ready
for battle. He strikes the poor old creature dead at his feet,
and then kills the other occupant of the lodge ; then he rushes
out, shouts, utters terrible war-whoops, and strikes down
every person that comes in his way. His sister recognizes
him, goes out to meet him, and begs him to be quiet. She
cries out, Uchkecn (" My brother, younger than I ") ! He
rejoins : " Get out of my way with you ; boondjeine (leave me
alone) ! Why did you not take care of me? Had you taken
care of me, as you promised, I should always have been with
you, and we should always have shared alike ; but now — "
and he strikes her to the ground.

[Related by Susan Barss, and written down from her mouth
in Charlottetown, Prince Edward Island, in the winter of
1848, and translated from the original, May, 1869, by S. T.
Rand.]

MICMAC INDIAN LEGENDS.

XIII.

THE ADVENTURES OF KAKTOOGWASEES.

A TALE OF ANCIENT TIMES.

tt ■ i

THERE once lived far back in the woods an old couple
who had but one son. They lived by themselves,
quite remote from any other Indians. Their only boy had
grown up without ever having seen anybody but his parents ;
he was under the impression that they were the only human
beings in the world. The father's name was Kaktoogwdk
(Thunder) ; and the son, as is usual with Indians, took his
father's name, with the termination that signifies " young," or
more properly, " little." ^ The boy's name was Kaktoogvvdsees
(Little Thunder). They all lived together, and the boy
grew up to manhood. After a while he noticed that his
mother's eyesight was failing, and he asked her in surprise,
" What is the matter? " She told him that she was growing
old, and could no longer attend to the affairs of the family, as
formerly, and that he must go and find some one who had
good eyesight to keep the house; she directed him respect-
ing the preparation to be made and the journey to be taken.
She assisted him in preparing a wedding suit, keloolktil ak
welttgul (pretty and well made) ; then, when he inquired
which way he was to go, she bade him go toward the
setting sun.2

1 This termination is cheech, or sometimes sees. Cheech is Micmac ; sees
is Maliseet and Ojibway, and is the same in some of the other kindred dialects.
This difference is merely a very usual change of ch into s, and sometimes occurs
in Micmac.

2 The tradition among the Micmacs is that their fathers came from the
Southwest ; and the old people up to a very late date spoke of their home in the
Southwest.

THE ADVENTURES OF KAKTOOGWASEES.

Ill

The next morning she tics up his fine clothes in a bundle,
and tells him not to put them on until he reaches the village
where he is to get his wife. The boy takes the bundle and
starts. He travels on day after day, until he has nearly
reached the place where the sun sets ; there he hears in the
distance, up a long valley, the rattling of the altestdkfin
omkivjii, or zvoltcs takiin} lie soon reaches the wigwam
where the play is going on, and where he finds the chief,
named Kcckwahjoo (Badger), just in the excitement of con-
cluding the game. The chief invites him up to an honorable
seat and treats him kindly; he remains there for the night.
He lets them know where he is going, and what his errand is.
So the next morning, after breakfast, the chief says to his
comrades, '^ Datoot (Friends), cannot some of you accom-
pany our young brother on his expedition?" They reply
that he is himself at leisure, and advise him to go. Then
the chief informs Little Thunder that he will accompany him
on his journey, and that they will have great sport during the
expedition. So they two go on together.

They soon reach a large point of land, where stands a man
with one foot doubled up and tied to his thigh. The Badger,
who is now master of ceremonies throughout the tale, inquires
of the man why his leg is tied. He informs him that he has
to tie his leg to keep from running away; that should he
have both feet free, he would not be able to keep himself
from running so fast that he would be away off round the
world in no timc.^ The chief says to him, " I and my friend
here are going to attend a great celebration. Will you join
us? You will make an important addition to our party."
He replies that he is at leisure and will go. The three now
go on together until they come to another mcskcek kw^sawu
(a great point of land), where they see another remarkable
personage, — one whose breath is so strong that he has to

1 Indian dice. See Legend XII., page io8.

* In this queer metaphor we can easily see how a restraint upon the appe-
tites and passions could be enjoined, — if this be the object of the legend.

iia

MICMAC INDIAN LEGENDS.

\-m

stop up his nostrils to keep from raising such a hurricane as
would sweep away everything.^

Me is requested to give them an illustration of his blowing
powers, — to unstop the nostrils for a moment. He does so,
and in an instant raises such a wind that the poor Badger is
hurled heels over head. He clings with all his might to a
rock to keep from being blown away, while lie calls out to
the mighty man to close his nostrils and stay the wind. So
the mighty man closes his nostrils, and the storm is over.

The chief then invites him also to join the party, and he
accepts the invitation. They travel on together; and their
next remarkable adventure is the discovery of a wood-chopper
of such mighty prowess that he cuts down lofty pines, and
trims them out from end to end for fencing- poles. He too is
requested to join the wedding-party. He has but one
objection to going. He has a large family to support, and
should he leave them any length of time, they might suffer.
Keekwahjoo proposes to obviate this difficulty by engaging
in a hunting ex'cursion on a small and novel scale before they
go any farther, in order to supply the wants of this family.
So they remain all night at his wigwam, and arrange their
plans for the morrow. The next morning they start on their
hunting expedition, and go, not into the forest, but to the
neighboring town, where the white men live. They go into
a store. The Badger chief directs them to engage the mer-
chant very closely in conversation, and while his back is
turned, the mighty Pine-chopper is to take up one of tho
barrels of mo.ncy and make off with it. This is done T' n
they all go out, and are far away before the thei cov-

ered ; but as soon as it is discovered, the party )ursued
by a company of soliliers. They look round and ■ tlvii
the pursuers arc gaining upon them and pointing their guns
at them. Keekwahjoo directs the man of mighty breath
to let loose the winds ; and in an instant a storm is raised,
clouds of dust and darkness are whirled about, the whole
1 Another impressive lesson on restraining the stormy passions.

Tilt: ADVENTURES OF KAh'TOOGWASEES.

113

party is dispersed, and the fellow who had taken the money
is driven deep down into the ground, barrel and all. The
soldiers come up; but the robber is nowhere to be found,
and no sign can be discovered of the money. After diligent
search the soldiers go back, and the party hunt round for
their missing friend. They find him after a while buried
in the ground, and dig him out; the sand and the fright
together have swollen his eyes almost to bursting.

They now go on to the lodge of the Pine-chopper, where
they passed the previous night; and the proceeds of their
novel hunting expedition furnish such a supply for the family
that the master of the house joins the party.

There arc now five persons in the company; and when
night comes on, they encamp. GooowAget (I'inc-chopper) is
directed to gather wood and kindle a fire, while the others go
out in quest of game for their supper. He does as directed.
They soon return, having killed several rabbits, and find that
their friend, always accustomed to do things on a large scale,
has built a tremendous fire. He is informed that he has alto-
gether overdone the matter, and that the next time he is only
to build a small fire. So they remain all night, sogoobah-
sooWjlk (they roast meat, stuck on sticks, before the fire) ;
they eat their supper, and lie down and sleep.

The next morning the party are again astir, and push on
until it is time to halt for the night. Pine-chopper is once
more left to prepare the camp, and the rest take an excursion
to the woods to find something to eat. He is told to make a
shelter of boughs, standing them up in a circle, so as to break
off the wind, while they are away. They soon kill a caribou,
and bring in the meat all ready to roast; they find that their
friend has cut down huge trees, erected a mighty wigwam,
and kindled a very small fire. The chief informs him that he
has now overdone the matter in another direction, and that
in the future he should not build any kind of a shelter, but
merely kindle a fire. So again they roast their favorite food
in their favorite way, stuck on sticks before the fire, eat their

supper, and go to bed.

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MICMAC INDIAN LEGENDS.

The next night they arrive at the lodge of the celcbratcc
Glooscap, where they are kindly received and entertained.
The Badger chief kcdooktumat (wishes to smoke), and Gloos-
cap hands him a pipe so small that he can hardly see it;
but he smokes away with it, and finds that it answers the
purpose admirably. The host next despatches his wait'Mg-
boy, little Marten, for a supply of water, and the kettle is
hung over the fire. The old woman brings out a small beaver
bone, and scrapes it into a wooden dish. After she has done
so, she puts the scrapings into the kettle, and kindles the
fire. The Badger chief says to himself, " We shall make but
a sorry supper out of that." But he should have known bet-
ter, and he is punished somewhat for his want of confidence
in the hospitality and superhuman power of his host, and his
ability to make much out of little. The kettle soon begins
to boil, the little scrapings thicken up into large pieces of
meat, fat and lean, and he finds the food so palatable and so
abundant that he eats enormously, and makes himself sick
before he can stop. This puts him and others to a great
inconvenience during the night, and calls forth a gentle
reproof the next morning from the host.

The next morning, after breakfast, Glooscap sends the boy
to examine their fishing-nets. He finds that a small whale
has been caught. He comes up and makes the announce-
ment. Glooscap now directs Keekwahjoo, the Badger chief,
to go down to the sea and give himself a thorough washing.
When this is done, he brings out goodly raiment, and gives
it to him, — a coat, a shirt, Icggins, drawers, and beautifully
adorned moccasins. He tells him to put them on ; he does
so, and is forthwith endowed with remarkable power, as well
as with fine clothing. Glooscap now directs him to go down
with the boy to the shore, tar the canoe, and stop all the
leaks. So down the two go to the shore, and Badger looks
round for the canoe; he sees no canoe, there is notliing
there but a singular-looking rock. On capsizing the rock,
he finds that it is in reality a canoe, and they proceed to

THE ADVENTURES OF KAKTOOGIVASEES.

IIS

examine the leaks and to put on the tar. When they return
to the lodge, the Badger requests Glooscap to assist him
against the dangers and difficulties of the way, for he i3
sensible that they are great. Glooscap replies that this is
true, and that he will give him directions and advice. He
proceeds to do this.

"First," he says, "you will reach a large point of land,
where j/ou will encounter a huge skunk ^ who will attempt
to kill you. When you come in sight of him, do not attempt
to fight him, but take this cheegumdkrin? and with it sing as
well as you can. If this sets him to dancing, you can pass
safely by; he will not in that case do you any injury. You
will next come upon a lot of beavers ; » one, which will be
very savage, will attack you. You are to make use of the same
weapon, — charm him with your singing and your music. If
he comes up out of the water to listen, you are all right. In
that case he will do you no injury."

Having imparted this information and given these direc-
tions, the party boosijtk (set sail). They go on a long
distance; and just as they are rounding a point of land they
see the huge skunk standing ready to give them the benefit
of his powers when they come within range. Keekwahjoo
takes up the chccgumAkun, and begins to beat upon it and to
sing; when lo ! the skunk changes his position and begins to
dance with all his might. So they pass by in safety.

Soon they reach another bend, and round another point.
Here they see a beaver's tail protruding above the water.
They approach cautiously, and the music again strikes up.
Immediately the beaver raises his head out of the water, and
listens to the enchanting strains ; and the party pass by in
safety.

On and on they go, until they come in sight of a large
village, where they land and take the path that leads direct

1 A necromancer who h.is assumed the form of a skunk.
_ » A sort of tambourine, beaten upon with a stick. li is made of a thick
piece of bark.

* These are magicians in the form of beavers.

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MICMAC INDIAN' LEGENDS.

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to the chief's lodge. They enter ; and the chief, previously
apprised of the object of their visit, or divining it, gives his
consent in the usual way, by addressing Kaktoogwasees (Little
Thunder) as his son-in-law, and inviting him up to the place
of honor, the back part of the wigwam. This chiefs name is
Keukvv (Earthquake),^ and arrangements are immediately
made for celebrating the wedding. Preparations are set on
foot for a feast to be held the next day. But Little Thun-
der dances the mystic dance, called "'nskozvokun, by way of
introduction, that evening, and raises such a storm that old
Earthquake is alarmed for his own personal safety; for it
thunders and lightens, and rains and blows. " Hold ! hold ! "
cries the terrified chief; " enough of such boisterous intro-
duction ! " So they eat their suppers, and retire to rest.

Eri y the next morning there is a gathering around the
old cli ef's lodge. The wigwam is completely filled with the
subordinate chiefs and their men. Before the door they clear
away a spot, level it down, and make it smooth for the
dancers. But before they have begun the games, a rival
makes his appearance, who has no idea of allowing the
daughter of the chief to be taken away by a stranger. He
has assumed the form of the terrible Chepichcalm (huge
dragon) ; he comes right into the wigwam to seize and carry
off the girl. The Badger chief rises and says to him, " What
are you after?" Receiving no reply, he seizes a tomahawk,
and with one blow severs his head from his body, while all
look calmly on. Then he chops him up into pieces, and
tosses him out of the wigwam. Shortly after this the food
is brought in, and they all eat. The old chief Earthquake
says, " Let the young man rise and play before us." First,
they engage in a foot-race. Two men are brought out, each
having one of his legs tied up ; they are set free, and each

\ ir!

I The fact that the Micmacs have a particular word to designate an earth-
quake, kettkio, seems to indicate a greater frequency of the phenomenon than
ever occurs in their country, and seems to point to a residence farther south,
where earthquakes are frequent, whence the name may have been transported.

THE ADVENTURES OF KAKTOOGWASEES.

117

one has a glass filled with water put into his hand. They
are to see which will run the faster and the steadier, thus
playing a double game; and the race-course is the circuit
of the globe. Off they start at the word ; Badger's com-
rade comes in first, and his glass is still full to the brim.
After a little, his competitor arrives, and his glass is only
half full. So victory declares for Little Thunder's party.

Next the chief gives the word, and a game of wrestling
begins. Two Pine-choppers engage, and take their stand on
the edge of a precipice. But Glooscap's power imparted to
Badger comes in play this time also. His comrade gains the
victory; and the other is tossed over the cliff and killed.

The sports now close; and it is time. Little Thunder
takes his bride, and the wedding-party starts for home. But
their troubles are not at an end. The braves and con-
jurors of the land in the far West, though foiled and
compelled to lose the prize, are by no means reconciled to
it; they would hke much to cut off the whole party before
they arrive home, and especially before they leave that par-
ticular region. One of them conjures up a storm, and sends
it after them to strike them as soon as they reach the open
sea. They see the commotion astern, and prepare to meet it
Magic is pitted against magic, wind is sent against wind. The
hurricane ccmi direct from the village they have left. The
nostrils of the vVind-Blower are unstopped, and "with dis-
tended cheeks and lungs inflate," he opposes the pursuing
tempest. The two storms meet and struggle for victory on
the open sea. The contest is soon decided. The magic of
the disappointed necromancer fails; his blowing is blown
back upon himself, and the sea is smooth for the receding
canoe.

When they arrive at the Beaver's Point, they find the same
old fellow there again in his wrath and power to oppose their
progress; but he cannot resist the magical tambourine and
Keekwahjoo's enchanting song. His ,-.n^,-r is turned to laugh-
ter, despite himself. He puts dowu .lu formidable tail that

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MICMAC INDIAN LEGENDS.

was to strike and capsize the canoe, puts up his head, and
manifests his joy.

They pass Skunk Point in the same way. The baffled foe
has returned again to the charge, has prepared his odoriferous
volley, and stands ready. But another tattoo beaten on the
magical chcegumakun, and another enchanting song, causes
him to halt, wheel about, and begin to dance in an ecstasy of
joy. During the operation the canoe with its precious freight
passes swiftly by.

That evening they arrive at Glooscap's Castle. Glooscap
meets them, congratulates them on their success, and pro-
poses that they shall hold a second day's wedding at his
house. To this they all agree, and preparation is made
accordingly. He sends out to invite the neighbors ; among
others, wiggidladuii-moochlk^ (a troop of fairies) is called
to the feast. These are the comrades of little Marten.^ He
is told to wash himself, change his clothes, and go and
invite his friends and comrades to the feast. This he does,
and soon brings in a troop of these little people of both
sexes, all dressed up and ornamented in the most exquisite
manner, their clothes all covered with little variegated wam-
pum shells. Next, the old lady, Glooscap's housekeeper, is
requested to exercise her culinary skill, and to provide a
supper for the party. This is soon done, to the best of her
ability; and the whole company feast together. After the
eating comes the dancing, which is kept up until daylight;
they take breakfast, however, before the company breaks up.
Glooscap himself, though always represented as somewhat
staid and dignified, has engaged in the sports, and dances
with the fairies. The fairies go home, and the wedding-party
leave the canoe where they borrowed it, and go on toward
home by land. They repass the same places which they

1 There is a strong belief in fairies still among the Indians. The habits
of these beings resemble remarkably those of our fairies, both ancient and mod-
ern ; for belief in them among Europeans has not yet died out.

°'^ From this I infer that Marten, who figures always as Glooscap's servant, is
a fairy.

THE ADVENTURES OF KAKTOOGWASEES.

119

passed on their journey, and stay all night again where they
stayed before. At length they arrive at Pine-chopper's
wigwam, where they pass the night, and leave that com-
panion. Next they reach another stage ; their companions
drop off, one after another, till at length Little Thunder
and his bride, the daughter of the Earthquake, reach their
home, unaccompanied by any one. The old people are well,
and glad to see their son again ; they are pleased with his
success and with his choice.

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MICMAC INDIAN LEGENDS.

XIV.

THE HONEST MAN AND THE ROGUE.

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'' I ^HIS tale begins in the same manner as most of the
^ others, reiterating the important fact that " there was
once a large Indian town or village." Alas! nowadays there
are no large Indian towns. It may therefore be the more
proper to retain these mementos of what once was. In this
large Indian town lived two Indians, who were associated in
partnership, but who were very diverse in character. One
was a kind, honest, industrious, and sober man; the other
was a drunkard, an unkind, artful, and dishonest man. He
constantly defrauded his companion in the division of the
profits of their labor, and spent his money for liquor.

On one occasion they had made a large number of bas-
kets, and the rogue was planning how he could cheat his
partner out of his share. So he proposed a question to his
comrade ; out of this question arose a bet, and each staked
his share of the baskets against that of the other. " Which,"
asks the rogue, " is the more beautiful place, — heaven or
hell?" The other replies, "Oh, heaven, of course, is the
more beautiful place." "No, it isn't," says the other; "hell
is the more beautiful place. Come on; I'll bet all my
share of the baskets against you that I am right, and we
will go over and ask the priest." " Done ! " says the other,
sure of succeeding. Accordingly they call upon the priest
together, an-' ask, "Which is more beautiful, — heaven or
hell ? " He replies, " Oh, heaven is the more beautiful
place." They reply, " All right ! " and go out. As soon as
they are by themselves, the one who had started the question
says to the other, " W^hich did he say was the more beau-

THE noxEsr .v,ijv and the rogue.

121

tiful?" "He said heaven was the more beautiful." "Oh,
no; you are mistaken altogether. He said that hell was the
more beautiful place." To settle the matter, they return to
the priest and ask the question over again : " Which place
did you say was the more beautiful? Did you say hell was
the more beautiful?" "Oh, no," he answers; "I said that
heaven was the more beautiful." So they go out again, and
the rogue gives the other a nudge with his elbow, saying
with a smile, "There! didn't I tell you so? He said that
hell was the more beautiful place." By this time the good,
honest man is quite satisfied that the other is intending to
cheat him, and that there must either be a quarrel, or he
must give up his right and sufifer himself to be defrauded.
Very properly, he resolves to choose the lesser of the two
evils; he therefore lets the fellow take all the baskets, but
he determines to have nothing more to do with him. So they
part, — the one rejoicing in the success of his scheme, and
pitying the weakness of the fellow who would allow himself
to be so easily cheated out of his property; the other
rejoicing in a clear conscience, and feeling glad that he
had been enabled to suffer rather than contend. But he
is entirely destitute, and has to beg in order to obtain a
little food. He does not succeed very well; for begging
is at best but a sorry business, even in fable. After a while
he obtains two small cakes of bread, which he takes with
him.

The other sells his baskets well, gets pcgivm sodedwa'
(plenty of money), which he spends in rioting and drunk-
enness.

As the poor man travels along, he meets a very old man,
who was leaning upon a staff, and who looked destitute.
An intense feeling of pity springs up in the man's bosom
towards the poor aged man ; he speaks to him respectfully
and kindly, and divides his all with him.

Then the old man asks him where he expects to pass the
night. He says, " I do not know." " I will send you to a

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M/CMAC INDIAN LEGENDS.

good place," says the old man. " Do you sec this road
descending in a straight line to yonder patch of woods ? "
" I do," says the other. " Follow that road," he adds, " and
turn ofif to the right, just before you come to the woods ; go
on a little distance, and turn again to your right, and you
will come to a tree which has a crotch in the top, under
which you will see that the ground is without grass, and
beaten hard and dry. Climb up into that tree and adjust
yourself in the crotch, and remain there until morning."
He then bids him farewell and goes on. The man takes
the road, finds everything as described, climbs the tree, and
ensconces himself in the crotch for the night.

After dark he hears the sound of approaching footsteps,
and begins to tremble. His fright is increased when he
finds that a number of men have come and sat down under
the very tree in which he has pitched his tent. Directly
they kindle a fire and begin to smoke. After they have
smoked awhile, one says to the other, " Tell me a story."
He replies, " I do not feel like telling a story just now ; I
would rather you would sing for me while I dance." So he
strikes up a tune, and the other dances until he is tired ;
then he sits down, and the other gets up and dances ; after-
wards they sit down together and smoke. Thus they pass
the greater part of the night. Finally one says to the other,
" Come on ! now tell your story." He begins and tells
about a certain blind king who resides in a certain city,
and whom all the doctors have failed to cure. There is a
remedy, however, that would restore his sight if any one
would apply it, — it is the sweat of a white horse.

Daylight now dawns in the east, and the men go away.
Our friend comes down out of the tree, resolving to take
advantage, for his own sake and that of others, of the infor-
mation he has gained. He determines to find the town and
the blind king, and to cure him if possible.

He does not have to seek long; he soon finds that it is
all true, that he is in the very town, and not far from the

TJIE HOXESr MAN AND THE ROGUE,

i2>,

royal palace. He enters, and states that he wishes to try his
skill on the king's eyes. The king, hearing of this, calls for
him; he goes in, and is asked if he is the man who will
undertake to cure his blindness. He answers in the affirm-
ative, and the king allows him to try. He directs the king
to take a seat out-of-doors, while he hunts for a white horse.
The king does as directed, and the man soon finds a white
horse, which he mounts and drives up and down the road
until the horse begins to sweat freely; then he dismounts,
wets a handkerchief with the sweat, goes up to the king,
and opening one of his eyes, squeezes some of the moisture
into it. After he has held it together awhile, he tells him
to open it. He docs so, and lo ! he can see as well as
ever. He then does the same to the other eye, and with
the same result. The king is overjoyed. He looks around,
and examines his palace outside. "How beautiful!" he
exclaims. "Is heaven itself as beautiful.?" The man replies,
"Oh, sir, heaven is much more beautiful." But the question
reminds him of his late adventure with his former partner,
and leads him to think that the other gained nothing and
that he lost nothing in the speculation.

The king now offers, in the excitement of the moment, to
give him almost everything that he possesses. He will load
him with riches and honors, so that nothing can ever reduce
him to poverty. But he declines all this. " Give me," says
he, "as much money as I can conveniently carry with me;
that is all I ask." This is done. He takes his money and
wends his way homeward, bestowing it liberally upon every
poor person he meets; so t' at by the time he reaches home
he has only a couple of shillings left. He then meets the
same poor old man who directed him to the tree, and is
rejoiced to see him again. He tells him of his adventure
with the king, and that he has given away all the money
that he received except two shillings, which he will divide
with him. The old man thanks him, and goes on.

Meanwhile the news of the adventure spreads, and reaches

MICMAC INDIAN LEGENDS.

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the cars of his former partner in business, who seeks him
out and asks for the particulars. He tells him his story,
and the rogue determines to try his luck in the tree; the
other repeats to him tlic directions which he had received
from the old man. The rogue follows the road down the
hill, turns off to his right, and then again to the right, and
finds the tree; he climbs up, and awaits the events with
great interest. The men come back as before, kindle a
little fire, talk, smoke, and dance ; then one asks the other
for his story. Our hero in the tree is now all attention, and
leans forward to catch every word. "Tell a story, indeed I "
he answers, " after a fellow has got rich by my stor}'-tcl]ing;
and perhaps he is up in the tree now, waiting for more
information." With that he seizes a stone in the darkness,
and hurls it with great force into the tree. It strikes the
fellow right in his forehead, so that he pitches heels over
head down among them at the foot of the tree, dead.

After the man had imparted to his former dishonest part-
ner all the information respecting the way in which he
obtained his money, he was seen going away in company
with the old man ; and neither of them was ever heard of
more.

[This story was of course invented or improved after the
introduction of Christianity; and yet the question referred to
the priest would seem to indicate but a very slight acquaint-
ance with the most obvious doctrines of Christianity.

Several precepts of Christianity arc clearly taught; for
instance, non-resistance, charity, and the reward which even
in this life, and especially in the life to come, attends suf-
fering for righteousness' sake. The poor old man was of
course an angel, and the going away with him to be seen
no more was going to heaven.

That the deceiver should be caught in his own trap,
and lose where the other gained, is in harmony with the
teachings of all times. The fable of the poor man who

THE noXEST MAN AXD THE KOGUE.

125

lost his hatchet in the river and got a golden one, and
of Sir Tcpaz and the humpback Edwin, —

" Hut wot ye not his liarder lut ?
His luciilcss back tiie hump liad got
Which Edwin lost before," —

all illustrate the same idea, But the adventure in the tree,
the sweat of a white horse curing the blindness, and the
smoking, dancing, and story-telling under the tree, all seem
original inventions, and such as no one but an Indian would
think of. I conclude that the story is original.]

III;!

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126

MlC\'\rAC INDIAN LEGENDS.

XV.

THE ADVENTURES OF ABAIJICJIT, AN INDIAN
CIIIICF AND MAGICIAN OF THE MICMAC
TRIHl':.

[This is a talc of the wars between tlic Micmacs ami a
tribe of Canadian Indians, called by the former Kwedcchk.
It is somewhat uncertain to what tribe the Kwcdechk
belong. The tradition is that they were driven from their
provinces by the Micmacs, who came from the southwest.
The story illustrates well the Indian mode of warfare. Con-
cealment, night attacks on single families, the murder of
women and children, and the strong belief in magic which
everywhere prevailed among Indian tribes, are finely brought
out in the stor\-. It was related to me, and I wrote it
down in Micmac in 1848, in Charlottetown, from the mouth
of an intelligent Indian named Jacob Mitchell, who was then
sick with consumption, of which he died soon after. I pub-
lished a translation of it some years ago. I here make a new
translation from the original, which lies before me.]

AWAY down towards the mouth of a river there was
once an Indian settlement. In the fall, when it was
the season for fur, the men were in the habit of going
up the river in their canoes on their hunting-excursions.
Once, when they were going to their hunting-grounds, two
of them stopped half-way, and went back from the river into
the woods, where they remained hunting until spring.

Both of these men were married, and had their wives with
them. The name of one was AbabejTt. He had no children

Tin-. Ani7-:xrrA'Es or A/iAnfjIr.

127

of his own, but his wife had two sons and one dauj^htcr, —
the children of a former husband. His comrade had no
children.

When spring opened, they brought all their meat and fur
down to the river, preparatory to its removal to the village
in their canoes when the ice should break up; here, while
they were waiting, both families occupied one wigwam.

One day Ababejit asks his comrade if he would not like
some fresh meat; he replies that he would. So they go
out together, and k-ll a fine moose, and carry home a supply
of meat. When they arrive home, the comrade of Ababejit
directs his wife to cook some of the fresh meat. While this
is going on, Ababejit lies down for a nap. While he is
asleep, he has what he considers an ominous dream. lie
dreams that a flock of pigeons have alighted on the wigwam,
and completely covered it. He deems this an indication
that a swarm of enemies will soon alight upon them.

When the food is made ready, they awaken him, and he
takes his dinner with the others. After the repast is over,
he says to his comrade, "Do you know what is about to
happen?" He replies that he does not know, but is quite
sure that if any important event were about to happen, he
would become apprised of it. This implies that he has no
great confidence in his friend's prognostications, unless he
has the same himself. This Ababejit considers a slight to
himself; so he says nothing of his dream.

Soon after this the river breaks up, and shortly they hear
the cry of a wild goose sailing down the river. When the
goose comes opposite to the wigwam, she flics up a short
distance, alights again in the stream, and comes drifting
down with the current.

The wife of AbabejTt's comrade asks him to shoot the wild
goose. But he does not care to do so ; and again it rises
when it comes opposite to the wigwam, and flies up the
stream. The woman is enceinte, and desiring very much a
piece of the wild goose, she cries because her husband will

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128

MIC MAC INDIAN LEGENDS.

W$\

not shoot it for her. He, seeing licr tears, takes his gun,
and when the bird comes down the third time, slioots it.

Now, it happened that a party of the Kwedechk, cncmie::'
of the Micmacs, were coming down tiie river on the other
side, to attack them. They hear the report of a gun, and
immediately halt and send forward three scouts to reconnoitre ;
these scouts proceed carefully to the place where the gun was
discharged, observe the wigwam standing on the opposite
bank, and recognize it as a Micmac wigwam.' They return
and inform the warriors, who lie by for a night attack.

Ababejit, believing that he has been admonished of the
danger in his dreams, does not sleep, but keeps watch that
night. Having been snubbed by his comrade for supposing
that he possessed superior prophetic powers, he says noth-
ing to him or to any of the rest respecting his suspicions,
but quietly waits and watches all night in the wigwam. He
is aware when the war-party approaches, he knows when they
are opposite the place, and when they arc crossing the river.
There he sits in the kutakumook (the place opposite the
door).

The strangers manage to construct a bridge there of float-
ing ice-cakes, and just before daylight succeed in effecting
a crossing. Ababejit sees them coming, and afterwards
arranging themselves on the shore next to the wigwam.
He sees them levelling their pieces at the wigwam, and then
he touches his friend on the side with his gun, and says,
" We are all killed. Now get up." He si>rings up just as
the guns are discharged. Ababejit, being; wide awake has
his magical power all in exercise, and is unscathed. The
bullets cannot injure him. His comrade would have been
just as safe had he been wide awake and watching. But as
he was just arousing himself, his medicine was at fault.
He is struck in the leg, and his thigh is broken. He cries
out, " Comrade, I am killed."' The little girl is killed out-
right. As soon as the war-party discharge their pieces,

1 TKo Kwcdeuhk call the Micmacs NoojcbokwCjik.

THE ADVE.\TURES OF ABABe/iT.

129

they rush upon the tent to seize their prey. Three of
their braves instantly bloclc up the door in their attempts to
enter. AljfibejTt fires at one of them, tlien seizes him and
kills him. The man with the broken \'C\^ has by this time
rouscil himself, and awakened all his magic ; he has seized
his tomahawk, and taking liis position on his knees at the
door, he strikes down every one who attempts to enter, and
tosses him into the back part of the wigwam.

Two men ha\'e entered, however, before he got his posi-
tion at the door, and have seized Ababejit, and are strug-
gling to tic him, so as to carry liim off to their own territory
to torture and burn him. During all this commotion the
two boys have not awakened. But they awake before the
old man is secured, and one of them calls out, " Who is this
attacking my stepfather?" "My child," the old man an-
swers, " we are attacked by a war-party ; we arc all killed."
The boy springs to his feet, draws his knitc, and rushes
upon one of the men, and by a little assistance from the old
man, he manages to stab him in the back and kill him. The
work of despatching the other is now easier, and he is soon
put out of the way.

Ababejit now rushes out-of-doors, where he is again imme-
diately seized. He had no weapon in his hand when he
went out, for he had left his spear the evening before stick-
ing in a tree near the wigwam. When he comes out, he makes
a rush for this weapon, but is seized by three men before
he reaches it; they are about to bind him. and he is just
despairing of his life, when he recollects himself, and seizing
one of them by the testicles, renders him powerless, and
tosses him aside; then he seizes the other two in the same
way, and immediately is free. ITc rushes on towards his
spear, and is again seized. But he had .stretched some strips
of rawhide from tree to tree near by, and so in the struggle
with the one that has seized him, he urges him in the direc-
tion of the extended strips of rawhide, and by tripping him
over them clears himself from his grasp. Seizing his spear,

hi''

130

MIC MAC INDIAN LEGENDS.

\ !\

he now returns to the fight, and lays them deod, right and
left, until he grows weary in the work. All this time he
hears his comrade singing his war-song in tlic wigwam ; he
is busy defending the door. Two of their braves, possessed
of magical powers, still survive. He has already killed one
of them, and now he succeeds in killing another.

Hl then determines to enter the wigwam and rest. Step-
ping up to the door, he announces himself and is allowed to
enter. He then tells his two bo}-s to crawl nut under the
back part of the wigwam after he ha? gone, run home as fast
as possible, and report the destruction of their party, and the
approach of the hostile band. He raises the back a little before
he goes out, so as to allow them to creep out under it, and
then he returns to his work. He has not been long engaged
with the enemy before he sees his two boys running in the
direction of home, and two men chasing them. He gives
chase himself, but they gain on him ; \\\c.\\ he shouts after
them and paralyzes them by the war-whoop. They halt;
he comes up and knocks them on the head. Looking up,
he sees another man pursuing them. He calls after him to
let the children alone: " Come here, and meet a man ! " He
soon despatches this fellow, and then the boys are afraid to
go on, and persuade their grandfather to go with them and
not to return to the fight. But he says, " I must go and
defend your mother." They beg of him not to go: "Let
them kill her; but lay it up against them, and pay them
off '''.L some future opportunity."

Just then he hears the poor woman calling for help, and
reminding him that he has promised to protect her; but
the children plead so hard for their own lives that he con-
cludes to go on with them and leave the rest to their fate.
He stops and listens awhile before he starts.

It is now broad daylight, and he hears a great outcry at
the wigwam. The cry soon ceases. He knows what this
means ; so he goes on with the boys to the village, and
sounds the alarm. Men immediately arm and go up in

THE ADVEXTURES OF ABABIJIT.

search of tlie enemy to the place where the attack was first
made. They fmd all dead except the young wife of the
warrior whose thigh was broken by the first volley fired upon
the wigwam. She has been carried off alive. But they can
find no traces of the enemy, nor can they find the bodies of
those that have been killed. They have been carefully
removed, aaid hidden under the shelving bank of the river,
to save them from being scalped and dishonored. The place
has been plundered not only of all the fur and venison which
they had succeeded in collecting during the winter, but of
everything else as well. The enemy have taken all awa}'.
They scarcl a long time, but can find no traces of them.

The enemy retire to the top of a neighboring mountain,
fearing the Micmacs, as they know that word has gone on to
the village. There they hide for a long time, until the snow
is all gone. They kindle no fires in the daytime, lest the
smoke should reveal their place of concealment. They build
their fires and do their cooking in the night.

Their supply of food is exhausted before the snow is gone,
and they suffer severely from hunger.

The IVIicmacs have now returned to their settlement, and
the strangers are grown so thin in flesh that their rows of
teeth can be seen through their lantern cheeks. They now
start for home. Reaching a lake, they halt and build a supply
of canoes; in these they push on towards home.

Now, it so happened that when the Micmac hunting-
party went up the previous fall, and AbabejTt and his com-
panions remained behind, a far greater number of men went
than were accommodated with canoes. Some of the canoes
carried four men, and some five; so that, should they be
successful in hunting, they cculd construct additional canoes
and be supplied with men to man them and bring down their
venison and fur. They went up to the lake where the stran-
gers built their canoes; they passed through it into the river
beyond, and went up still farther, to the place where they
spent the winter and fall in hunting. In the spring, when

132

MICMAC IXDIAN LEGENDS.

.1,

i: ;

I'V'

they were ready to return, they built an additional number
of canoes, and were now, with all their fall and winter work,
on their way home.

Rounding a point of land, the two parties meet suddenly
and unexpectedly. The Micmacs see the wife of their com-
rade in one of the canoes, and they easily divine the rest ;
they conclude that their comrades are all killed.

They assume, however, to mistrust nothing. The ]\Iicmac
chief kindly recommends to the other that they halt for the
night. They do so, but no one sleeps ; they are somewhat
distrustful of each other, and keep careful watch during the
whole night.

While they are getting things ready during the evening,
and walking about, they contrive to approach the woman
and exchange whispers. They learn by a single sentence
all they wish to know. "Where is your husband?" asks
one, in a low voice, running hurriedly by her. " Killed," is
the answer. This tells the whole talc.

Early the next morning the Kwedech chief, with his
"stolen wife" (she is thus designated in the story), is seen
going down towards the shore alone. The Micmac inquires
where he is going. He informs him that yesterday, in the
hurry of embarki'.g, they forgot their kettle, and that he is
going back to fetch it. After he is gone, the Micmac chief
directs his men to furnish the strangers with breakfast. So
they bring out choice pieces of fat meat and cakes of tallow,
and cook them an abundant supply. They are very hun-
gry, and they eat accordingly. Surfeited with food, and
weary with their watching all night, and becoming less sus-
picious from the kindness shown them, they are all soon
either buried in sleep or too sleepy to notice what is done.
The chief then directs his men ; each selects his mark, and
shoots; thus nearly all are laid in the dust; the few who
survive are easily despatched.

One remains, however, who will be more difficult to kill
than all the rest; for he is a " brave," and a Booozvin.

THE ADVENTURES OF ADABEjIt.

133

The first stop taken is to deceive him, if possible; for as
lie will have heard the report of guns, he will be on his guard.
The Micmac chief directs his men to exchange clothes with
some of those that arc killed, to set them up in a sitting
posture by means of stakes thrust into their bodies, and to
place tlieni along on the bank as though looking on; he
then bids them take some of the canoes of both parties, and
commence paddling about in the water, shooting in every
direction, and shouting, as though at play. This is done.
The Kwedech, as anticipated, did hear the report of the
guns, and said to the woman, "They are fighting." But
when, on cautiously approaching, he saw, as he supposed,
his men mingled with the others, some of them seated on
the bank and looking on, and the others paddling their
canoes about, shooting in every direction, and shouting, he
said, Mo:;zva paboltijik (" No, they are at play ").

The Micmac chief has in the mean time concealed himself
near the place where the other will land. He has sent one
of his men to say to the woman, as the canoe approaches,
"Just turn the bow a little, and come here," so that he may
be able to shoot the man without shooting her. This is done.
But tlie Kwedech chief observes, as he approaches, that the
party seated on the shore never stir; and he soon concludes
that thev are dead. " Turn the prow a little," says the man
appointed to that duty, to the woman ; and she obcvs the
direction. The chief fires, but he is too late; the other has
got his eyes open and his " magical steam " up before the
trigger is drawn, and the ball cannot touch him. With one
spring he capsizes the kivedrai. and leaps into the water
His tedmrd is the loon, whose form and habits he imme-
diately assumes; he dives, and remains under water a Ion-
time.

The men rush gallantly to the rescue of the woman, seize
and carry her ashore. The young men now conclude that
the fellow must be dead ; but the chief knows better. After
about two hours he makes his appearance at the top, in the

134

MICMAC INDIAN LEGENDS.

!l«

■'■'

shape of a loon. They launch the canoe and go after him;
but he dives again, and they cannot find him. They collect
their canoes in a body, and hunt for him. Directly one of
them is upset, then another, and soon many more; but no
one is hurt, for he scorns to lay hands on the common
people. He is searching for his equal, the chief who has
fired upon him. Soon he discovers which canoe contains
him, and then he ceases to trouble the rest. The Micmac
sees him approaching, and makes a thrust at him with his
spear, but misses him. He makes a second attempt, and
again misses him. " Now, then," sa}'s he, " I have but one
more chance ; let me step to the prow of the canoe." This
time he takes special cai':, and succeeds in striking his spear
into him. He then shouts, " Oh ! he is trailing his red ochre
ashore ! " ^ Some of the men say, " He is dciid somewhere."
" No, he is not," replies the chief. " Let us land, for he
will make immediatel}'' for the shore." ihcy do so, and sec
him apparently dead upon the water, floating in towards the
land. As he drifts up, the more youthful and in'^xpcrienced
of the party are eager to rush upon him ; but their chief
restrains them. " \\c is not yet dead," he tells them ; " and
should he succeed in killing one of you, he will be as well
and as active as ever." So he himself lands and approaches
the wounded brave, strikes him in the head with his toma-
hawk, and kills him.

He then calls to the woman, and tells her to select her
husband's scalp, and come and " bury her husband." She
comes, and asks for a knife. She rips open his breast with
the knife, and thrusting in her hand vvilh the scalp of her
slaughtered husband, buries it deep, m.iking his bod)- the
grave. Then they take the woman witl) them, and all go
home.

After a while this woman gets another husband. This
man has two brothers younger than himself, who are in the
habit of hunting in company. The woman on one occasion

^ Meaning, I think, that lie is leaving a streak of blood as he goes.

THE ADVENTURES OF ADABE/it.

135

went out with them into the forest, having one child, an
infant, witli licr. Tliey erected a wii,nvam, and the wife took
care of the house while the men hunted. It was part of
her business to slice up and dry the meat that was brought
in. The men went every morning to their work, and returned
at evening.

One day, while she is alone at work, the little dog begins to
growl and then to bark. She looks up, and not far off among
the alders she sees a great shaking, which instantly ceases as
soon as the dog begins to bark. She is convinced that it is
not caused by an animal, and mistrusts that a war-party is near.
When the men come in at night, she tells them what she has
seen, and intimates her fears. They laugh at her; she begs of
them to leave the place immediately and go home. The two
youngcf brothers conclude that she is lonely, and tired of
remaining there, and that she has made up this story to
induce them to go; they tell their brother to take his wife
off home. She protests that this is not the case, but she is
sure that if they remain they will all be butchered before
morning. She beseeches them with tears to leave the place,
but they are deaf to her entreaties.

As they will not go home, she determines not to stay in
the wigwam all night. So she takes her babe, and going
some distance away, but not out of hearing, she prepares a
place, where she lies down for the night. For a long time
she lies awake and listens. She hears the men at the wigwam
singing and dancing, and when all is still she falls asleep.
When she awakes in the morning, she hears the little birds
singing around her; but she cannot open her eyes, for
something is the matter with the top of her head. She
presses her hand against her forehead, and pushes open her
eyes. When she sees that the sun is up, and finds that she
has lost her scalp, she thereupon takes a handkerchief and
ties up her head, so as to keep her eyes open. Now she sees
that her child is killed, having been stabbed in the mouth
with a two-edged knife. Her head pains her much, so she

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MIC MAC IXDIAX LEGENDS.

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binds on the leaves of the lipkftdaiiiooiiK\ and returns to the
wigwam; there slie fuids every man I)inj3f dead in tlie place
where he had lain down, — killed and scalped while asleep.

After having seen all this, she starts fur home. Arriving
at the village, she reports the death of her husband, brothers-
in-law, and babe. She brings corroborative testimony ol
the truth of her story on her head ; she proceeds to bind
up her scalp by bringing the skin as near together as possible,
and stitching it.

The men then muster, and pursue the foe ; but as the}- do
not succeed in getting upon their trail, they return home.

[The foregoing is, I must say, a verj' interesting and im-
portant story. It is really and purely Indian. The ground-
work of the story has too much of artless truthfulness to make
it necessary to believe it otherwise than real, while many of
its details arc certainly fiction. But even the fictitious por-
tions must have had the current belief for their basis, and
it is interesting to learn from their own legends what the
current belief is or was. The mode in which the warfare
was conducted, as the legend represents it, must be the real
Indian method.

Who first framed it, or through how many hands it had
passed before I wrote it, I have no means of knowing.
I wrote it exactly as dictated to me b\' my friend Jacob
Mitchell, as already stated, at a time when ni}- knowledge of
the language would hardly have permitted me to add a
sentence of my own coining, even had I been disposed. I
have not translated literally, but have told the stor}- without
change, in my own way. Poor Jacob did not nnderstand the
word renderctl "red ochre," sckivon (sec note on page 134);
he had to guess at the meaning of the sentence, and led me
astray in my translation, or my narrative, of 1S50.]

TJIE KWhDECIlK AXD UEJKDOWKWhjfk:

'0/

XVI.

THE KWEDECIIK AND VVEJEBOWKVVEjrK.

[Till': fullowing incident in tlic wars that were \vac;ccl
between the Micniacs and tlicir enemies was rehited to
ine by a poor old Indian named Michael Snake. I did
not write it down, and have not the original before me. I
tell the story from memory ; but the fac.s were of a nature
to make an indelible impression upon my mind.]

nniIJ":RE was war between the Kwedeclik and Wejc-
-*■ bowkwejTk, or Micmacs. A party of the former had
attacked a village in the absence of the men, and had carried
off the chief's wife. The men returned soon after, and learned
what had transpired; the chief, taking another warrior with
him, went in pursuit of the retreating war-party, intending to
recapture the woman. He came upon their trail, and follow-
ing on night and day, finally overtook them. They were
encamped for the night in a large wigwam which they had
constructed, and in which they had built two fires, — one at
each end. The two men waited until night; they approached
the wigwam cautiously, and as there was no sentry keeping
guard.i they were able to come near enough to see that the
place was filled with sleeping men, and that the woman was
sitting up, mending the moccasins that the men had taken off.
They noticed, too, that there were two hoochhijoos (large
vessels of birch bark) filled with water standing just inside
the wigwam, — one near each door. Having reconnoitred

' It is said that the setting of a guard was one of the hardest things for the
Indians to lenrn.

flf

138

MJCMAC JiXDJAN LEGEA'JJS.

JliiW/

the position, tlicy proceeded to action. Tlic chief went
round t(i the point where tlie woman was sitting at her work,
and unclasping his belt (piietly, slipped it under the bark of
the wij^wani alon;^ by her side. She sees it, recognizes it,
and reatiily reads the despatch. She docs not scream, but
gets up quietly and goes out to meet her husband. She
informs the two men of the numbers and condition of the
warriors, and the)- proceed to plan and execute their mode
of attack. First, the woman goes in and gathers up all the
moccasins, brings them out, and hides them. In case of
pursuit, this will delay the pursuers somewhat, as they will
find deep snow an impediment to bare feet. Next, they tic
a stout string across each door, just high enough to trip any
poor fellow up wlio should undertake to rush out in the
darkness. Then they dash the water from the booclilAjoos
over the fire and extinguish it, thus leaving the men in total
darkness. As soon as this is done, they shout and make the
most unearthly yells, putting on all the force that their lungs
can afford to increase the noise. The warriors arc awak-
ened, ant] start to their feet; every man grasps his weapons.
Supposing that the wigwam is full of enemies, they strike
about them in the darkness and confusion, knocking each
other down at every blow. The two men, with hatchets in
hand, arc stationed outside at each door; and when any one
attempts to go out, he trips over the string that has been
stretched across the door, and is instantly despatched by a
blow from the hatchet.

The tragedy soon ends. They arc all killed except two
or three, who are wounded and overpowered. These are
informed of the number of the attacking party, and arc
directed to return to their own country, and to tell their
people that taJiboo Wcjebo7vkwcjlk (" two Micmacs are a
match for a whole army of Kwedechk").

Another incident may be here related. I have forgotten
who was the author. The scene was laid somewhere above

ADDITION TO LEGEND XVI.

139

the falls.i on the Oulastook (bt. Julin River), New Hrunswick.
The chief actor was a woman, who had heen, as in the
preceding' story, taken possession of and carried off by tlic
enemy; slie liad been so lon^' with them that tliey had
be^nin to [)lace confidence in her. Once they were cumin"-
down tlie river on a larye raft, and beiiij,^ unacquainted with
the geography of tlie place, they knew nothing of the falls.
lUit she knew, and wished to make her knowledge subser-
vient to the interests of her own people. The day was fine,
and the men were all asleep; but she kept watch, and man-
aged to get the raft well out into the middle of the river.
She then slipped off and swam ashore, leaving the raft with its
precious freight to go over the falls, and be dashed to pieces
and destroyed.

Addition to Legend XVI.

I r.EAKNKD a few particulars from Andrew Paul, of
Dartmouth, respecting this legend. lie gave me the follovving
beginning of the story : —

The Mohawks and IVIicmacs both once inhabited these
lower Provinces. They quarrelled and fought, and ultimately
the latter drove out the former. They did not usually ficrht
m open field, but their plan was to waylay their enemres,
surprise them, creep upon them, and kill or take captive the
women and children while the men were away.

On one occasion two Micmacs were hunting, and they
remained away in the woods, at a distance from their wi<.-
wam. One night one of them had a dream that alarmed
h.m. as .t led him to think there was trouble ac home, where
their wives were, one of whom had a child, -a small boy
In the morning he told his dream to his comrade, and thex-
concluded to lose no time in reaching home. When they

' The falls were, I think, those above tl,e city and below Indian Town.

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140

MICMAC INDIAN LEGENDS.

arrived, they discovered that a war-party had been there.
IJoth the women were gone, and the cliild was dead ; a stake
had been run through his body and stuck up in the ground
close by the fire, so that the flesh of the child had been
roasted, and left there on purpose to harrow up the feelings
of the father and enrage him to the utmost. It was winter,
and the tracks of the snow-shoes indicated to what tribe the
enemy belonged, their numbers, and also the road they lad
taken. Roused and maddened beyond all endurance, the
two men determined on pursuit. That night they reached
the place where the war-party had encamped for the night.
They had erected a large lodge, and built two fires. The
next day they came up to the second night's encampment,
and found the same indications. The third day they over-
took tliem, but waited until night before they approached.
When they had reason to believe all were asleep, they crept
up quietly and found only the two women awake ; they were
sitting, one at one end of the long wigwam and the other
at the opposite end, each near a door, mending the men's
moccasins. One of the men outside crept up to the door,
and thrusting in his belt, dropped it by his wife's side.
She recognized it instantly, took it up, and went out. He
directed her to communicate with the woman at the other
end of the lodge ; they both went out, and all together
arranged their plans. The women brought each a bark of
water ; the men sent them on towards home, and waited for
them to get a good start before they attacked the sleeping
warriors. Then, tying a string across the door, and dashing
the water over the fires, they gave the war-whoop, and the
contest began. The Mohawks sprang to their feet, seized
their tomahawks, and supposing the wigwam full of enemies,
hacked each other down, the two men standing outside kill-
ing every one who attempted to go out. All Vwere killed
but two. They took these, and running a knife under the
cords of their wrists, they inserted a string under the cords,
and thus bound their hands behind them; and fettering them

ADDITIOX TO LEGEA'D XVE

141

with cords inserted under the sinews of their heels, they let
them go to carry the tidings home and provoke another
attack by way of revenge. The two Micmacs, having re-
covered their wives and destroyed their enemies, returned
leisurely to their homes in triumph.

IPfippipnwpiBpfpwpB^- ."^'^'^P]

142

M/CMAC INDIAN LEGENDS.

XVII.

THE LIVER-COLORED GIANTS AND MAGICIANS.

■; ■ I.

[TllK following was related to inc by Nancy Jcddorc.
She professed to have heard it from some relative of
hers many years ago. Were it necessary to locate it, I
should say that it occurred at the mouth of the St. John
River, New IJrunswick. There is fog enough there, cer-
tainly, to meet the case; the sea opens ;j the southwest,
and the Chenook would have a chance to come on from the
northern regions. However, it is not necessary to fix the
site ; but it may be proper to inquire whether the extrava-
gant absurdities of these fictions may not have had a more
Eolid basis. For instance, vessels with sweeps would strike
the mind of a poor savage as an immense canoe, and it
would be easy to magnify the men who could paddle such
immense canoes into giants and wizards. Then, what would
they make of the sound of fire-arms, but a war-whoop so
loud that it would kill those who heard it? In one of the
talcs these formidable Northmen with their battle-cry es-
cape by hiding in a deep pit ; and it would certainly seem
natural that such a place would be a safer shelter from fire-
arms than the top of a hill. The Indians are an observant
people ; they had perceived that those who stood high were
cut down by the noise that killed, while those low down
in a hollow or hole escaped ; from this they drew their
own inferences. When we remember how these things must
have appeared to the savages at first, and how they must
have been magnified in relating, then we can easily account
for the additions made afterwards, and the distorted, extrava-

ui K^utMamnmmitttitMamMltih.,

THE LIVER-COLORED GIAXTS AXD MAGICIAXS.

143

gant, and unnatural representation which tliesc ahtookxvokfin
now exhibit.]

THERE were once a r ^.1 and a woman living quite by
themselves near the sea-coast; they hud a large family,
and were very poor. They were in the habit of going away in
their canoe in quest of game. On one occasion, when they
were some distance from home, a thick fog shut in around
them, and they lost their way. They paddled on a long
time, however, but could not get through the fog nor sec the
land. They felt very anxious and sad, and thought much
about their children at home, most of whom were very
small.

After a while they discern something looming up in the
fog; to their astonishment, it proves to be an immense
canoe ; and soon after they see two others. Each canoe
contains eight men, and each man has a paddle. Our wan-
derers are hailed, and the leader of the fleet asks them the
usual question : Uchkccn} tahmee iv^JeiWk ? (" My younger
brother, whence come you?") He replies, "We are lost
in the fog, and our poor children are left alone at home."
This was said in a somewhat subdued and sorrowful tone of
voice, and would move the hearts of worse fellows than these
proved to be. The other replies : " Come in with us, and
we will convey you to our camp, where you will be kindly
treated and cared for. I can guarantee \-ou a kind recep-
tion, as my own father is the chief; so you have nothing to
fear." This invitation allays their alarm, and they accept the
proffered hospitality. Closing up on each side of the little
craft, two men from each of the two canoes clap their paddles
under the stern and prow, and easily lift the tiny thing, with
its two Lilliputian occupants, into the canoe of the young
chief. Presently they emerge from the fog and reach the
shore, when lo ! there appear three immense wigwams, pro-
portionate to the size of the men and canoes, standing in

I This epithet indicates that the speaker has no hostile intentions.

144

Ml CM AC IXDlAiV LEGE ADS.

i4-

a row on the bank; the chief, a man of large stature, is
comin<,' down to meet them.

"Halloo!" sa)-s he, "whom have you there, my son?
Where did you pick up that little brother?" Noo (" I\Iy
father"), he replies, "I found him lost in the fo^;." "All
rij;ht," adds the old man ; " bring him home to the lodge."
So two men take hold of the canoe, one at each end, while
the two people remain sitting in it, and carrying it into the
lodge of the chief, place it away under the caves. The chief
addresses them kindly, and directs that some food be pre-
pared for them. He further informs them that his name is
Ooscoon * (Liver), and that the man who brought them home
is his son.

Soon after this the chief sends off his men on a hunting-
expedition. When they return, our adventurers are able to
form some definite notion of the amazing si/c and strength
of their new acquaintances. They come in with a string of
caribou fastened round their loins, in their belts, as a Micmac
would carry a string of rabbits, and carrying them appar-
ently with the same case. They have also beavers and otters
strung in with the caribou. These excursions were often
repeated.

One day the chief informed his people and the two
strangers that there was to be war, — that in three days
from that time they would be attacked, ^ for a Chenoo^was
approaching. He therefore directs his men to get ready
and go out to meet him, and destroy him before he comes
to the village.

So they choose out four men, — the two sons of the chief,
and two others; these are despatched on the morning of

1 Nothinc; i«; known as to the reason of this singular name. But it may have
been the unusu.iliy dark color — liver-color — of the tribe.

^ To be able to foretell im])ortant events was deemed essential to the
character of a brave ; he would have been a poor boooiu, or necromancer, who
could not have predicted the approach of an enemy.

' There is really a tribe of Indians in the northwest called by this name,
Chenoo.

THE LIVER-COLORED ClAXTS AXD MAGICIAXS. 14.

the third day to meet and c. . off the formidable Clicnoo.
Wlicn it is nearly midday, the saknmoiv tells the Micmac
and his wife that they must stop their cars and roll them-
selves up in the skins, to prevent being killed by the war-
whoop of the formidable Chenoo. He instructs them how
to do it ; they must melt a quantity of tallow, and not only
fill their cars but also completely cover the sides of their
heads. This is done, and they roll themselves up in the
blankets made of dressed skins, and await the onset. They
are told that he will whoop three times. Presently they hear
the terrible shout; and tightly as their ears are closed, they
scarcely survive the concussion. But it sounds much fainter
the second time; the third time it is so faint that sood moo
noodoo-ahdigool (they scarcely hear him at all). The chiefs
now tell them to get up ; for the danger is all over, and the
enemy is killed.

Soon after this the warriors return, and report that they
met, encountered, and destroyed the enemy, but that thev
had a hard fight.

They are now informed that in three days more their
military services will be again required ; for a hur^e ^iant a
canmbal, - a kookxvcs, - is coming to attack them. So 'at
he tmie appointed, the warriors again go forth to meet ihe
foe; and our friends of the smaller type are aga n directed
to stop up the.r ears with tallow, and double the blankets
made of dressed skins around their heads, in order to break
and deaden the thunderings of his loud-sounding lungs a.,d

as on the former occasion. Despite all their precautions
o deaden the sound, it almost kills them; b^t it grows
famter and famter at every repetition, until the third tim
.t .s scarcely heard at all. They are now released from t d
ars and from the tallow cakes. When the warriors retur
hey brmg marks of a fearful struggle in which they Zl

laige trees have been torn up by the roots and run through

F^iPPW^PipiW'WWipPiPWJIflF

146

MIC MAC IXn/.lX LEGENDS,

f if-

1:: ■

(I •

'ti

their legs, where they are still sticking, as they have not
taken tlie time or trouble to extract them before reach-
ing home; but as soon as they luul icisuie to sit down,
they pull them out just as urclinary mortals would do
with thistles and small splinters. They inform the chiif
that the foe was a very formidable one, that they had a
dreadful battle, and came near being overpowered. One
of the sons is so much exhausted that he faints and falls
dead on reaching the door. But tlie old chief goes out
to him, and asks him what he is doing there; he bids
him rise. So he rises again, restored to life by the
wonderful power of the old chief, and saj-s he is faint and
hungry; as soon as he is fed and rested, he is as well as
ever.

The old chief inquires of the two strangers if they are
tired of remaining there with him. They say they arc not,
but that they can not help feeling anxious about their
children at home, and wish \er}^ much to return. "To-
morrow," says he, " I will send you home." So the next
morning their canoe is convc}'ed down to the shore, pack<'d
full of meat and furs of the choicest quality, and of all
the different kinds of caribou, beaver, and otter; they are
directed to ichalidlkiv (get in^, and then a small dog is called
and put in charge of the canoe. The master saj-s to them,
" This dog will conduct you safely home ; each of you must
take a paddle and guide the canoe in the direction in which
he sits looking." He then says to the dog, " Do you take
good care of these people, and conduct them home." He
then says to the Micmac, " You will be reminded of me
again in seven years from this time." Tokoo boosijik (Then
ofif they go).

The man takes his seat in the stern, and the woman in the
prow, and the dog sits up in the middle of the canoe; he
keeps his ears and nose pointing in the direction in which
they are to go. They glide so rapidly over the smooth
surface of the water that they arc soon in sight of their

1 1.. ■.

H-i

ic
ic

:ir

■/■///■ l.llER-COLOKED GIAXTS AXD MAGICIAXS.

'47

own lioinc. The chiklrcn sec them coiniiv^, and arc greatly
r(.ji)ict:d. I'hc dd^ij sccnis to share their joy ; lie runs up to
the childnn and \\aL;s his tail in ijrcat ^dee. 'I'he man now
thinks tliat he can keep the do^f, but he finds himself mis-
taken. Such a faithful servant, in whom so much confidence
has been reposed, will not desert his owner; and the first
thing they know, he is gone. He has no need of a canoe,
nor does lie go round by land; he goes back as he came,
and scuds off upon the full jump over the surface of the
water, as though it were ice.

The olil man and his wife now continue to reside in the
same place. They have lost nothing, but gained much, by
this trip to the land of the Livers.

The man has become a much more efficient hunter by this
means, and has now no difticulty in providing fir his family.
Time passes on, and he is so occupied with other affairs that
he lias nearly forgotten being lost in the fog ; but the seven
years arc now up, and he has several singtilar dreams, which
bring all hack to his remembrance, and lead him to imagine
that something important is going to happen to him. Among
other things, he dreamed one night that he saw, approaching
from the southwest, a whale, which came close up to the
shore where their wigwam was situated, and there began to
sing so charmingly that he was entranced be\-ond measure.

He tell:; his wife the dream in the morning, am! asks her
opinion of it. He now remembers that when the I.iv^r chief
told him that he would think of him in seven j'cars, he said
that he would be looking towards the southwest. He says
to his wife, " It must be that I am about to be transformed
into a imgumooivcsoo or a boo-"'iu" She inquires what a
incgitiiioo:i\soo is: " Is he a spirit, a manifoo, good or bad? "
He replies that he docs not know, but he thinks that it is
not an evil spirit, but a human being.

That day they do sec a huge fish coming in from the
southwest; but it is a shark, not a whale. They see his big
back fin rising out of the water, and he seems to be chasing

^mmmm^^mmf^^Bm^

148

M/C.VAC INDIAN LEGENDS.

the smaller fish. He comes close to the shore, but he does
not sinji; and after a while he retires, going back the way
he came.

Shortly after the visit from the shark, which is looked
upon as an evil omen, the little dog that had guided them
home comes to see them again. The children and parents
are all delighted to see the dog again, and he seems to be
as much pleased as they are ; he runs up to them, wags his
tail, and all but speaks. [It is a marvel that he did not also
do this; surely, it recjuires no more miraculous power than
to gallop off over the water.] But dogs can understand
what is said to them; and so before his departure the old
man tells him : " I will make you a visit in three years from
this time, and \ will look to the southwest." The dog licks
the hands, eyes, and ears of the old man, and then goes back
home again, straight over the water.

After three years the old man launches his canoe and
goes in quest of Liverland, which he finds without difficulty.
He finds the wigwams standing there as before. The chief
is still alive, but his sons are dead ; they were killed three
years ago, and the visit of the shark ^ and the dog were both
connected with the event.

The chief is pleased to sec his old friend; he tells
him of his troubles, and speaks of his own approaching
death, when he hopes to go away to his own kingdom.
He is now old, and does not know what day he may be
called away. He wishes the Micmac visitor to take his
sons' clothes and wear them ; and with the clothes he will
receive all the wonderful powers which his sons had pos-
sessed, "Take them home with you," he says; "and
when you wear them, think of me."

So the man takes the clothes and returns home. There
he puts them on, but they are a " world too wide" for him;
nevertheless, to his astonishment, as soon as he has arrayed
himself in these magical rol^s, he fills them completely.

1 A mighty necromancer, a boooiu, who had assumed the form of a shark.

MWMMiUilM^^

:'■///• LIVER-COLORED GfAXTS AXD MAGICIAXS 149

He is as large as the giants of that giaiii-huul; his knoukJ-rc
ami wisdom arc incrcasal in proportion to his physical si/c
a.ul strength. When ho puts off these clothes, he is as
small and weak as ever.

[Hero the story ends very abruptly. There should have
been something more. The very idea of the old chief of
Liverland placing the rcbes of his dead sons upon this man
and makmg him what his sons had been, implies that he-
had adopted him as his heir and successor. I stron-dy
suspect that this addition belonged to the original tale, a^id
that It has been most stupidly forgotten. Of course he went
back to the land where the big men were, and was installed
>n oflice even before the death of the old chief.]

ISO

M/CMAC JXV/AX LI.UJ.WS.

XVIII.

THE SOLITARY MAIDEN.

AVOUXG girl, a daughter of u king, was lost in a forest.
SIic wandered about for a long lime, and fiiiall)' came
to a well-built house surrounded by a ;,inall clearing, which
was cidtivaled as a garden. She found the doors open, but
no person within, Tiiere was plent)' of food, and cverj'thing
seemed to invite her to help herself, — which she concluiled
at length to do, as she was tired and hungry. She remained
all night, and still no one made his ai)pearancc , but she
continued to occupy the building, and to partake of the
bounty its stores afforded. She remained there seven years
without meeting with anything remarkable. ICvery season
she cidtivated the garden, antl paid particular attention to
her llower-beds. She had one beautiful bed of white flowers,
which she cultivated with special care.

(^nc day, as she was sitting in her room, she heard some
one singnng, but she could sec no one. It seemed like the
voice of one who could sing well, but she was not charmed
with it. A feeling of mistrust came over her that it was from
the I'^'il One; and she would not \ield to the influence of
the musician's powers, whoc\'er he might be.

She spent much of her time in prayer; and now she
prayed more earnestly than ever.

One day she was walking in her garden, when she observed
a little dog coming towards her, which seemed anxious to
attract her attention and to fawn upon her. I^ut she was
suspicious of the dog; she was under the impression that it
was not a real dog, but some sorcerer who had assumed that
form with the evil design of alluring her to her ruin. The

•cd
to
as
it
lat
"he

THE SOL/T.IA'Y MAlDliN,

151

^o'^ aft'.T a while went awa)-; but tlu- iK-xt day he came
back, aiul C(jntiiuied to make her a viMit every (.lay for some
tim.'. All this tended to conlirm lier fears, and strenjithen
her dctennination to ^hiin him.

One ni^Mit she had a dream. She dieamrd that some one
told her that a n an would come to pluck her white (lowers,
but she raust be Leforeluuu! with him. She must take a
pair of scissors and clip tluin all otf ; then she must carry
them into tlie house and burn them. So the ne.\t morning
she did as she hail been admoni.-.!! d in her dream to do;
she cut off all the fair white blossom-., and threw them into
the lir-j.

Shurlly after, she saw sonu one hastil;- passin;^ by her
wimlow several times. She rose, Vn \ I out, and saw a line-
lookii\4, well-dressed gentleman w.iik' 1;.; about in her i^arden,
lookin;4 at her flowers. He walked un to the bed where the
white llowers had bloomed, and stood ;;"azing at the sjjot as
if disappointed. She went out and asked him what he was
doin;^ there, and what lie wanted. He said he wantec' noth-
ing in particidar. He then went intu the house, and asked
lier if she lived there all alone. She said she did, and that
her father had sent her there. " How long have you lived
here alone?" he inquired. "Seven years," she replied.
"What do )'ou live upon?" said he. "I have no lack of
provisions," she answered. He then told her that he was a
prince, and tliat he Ii\'ed in the ro\-al cit)', which was not
very far off. This, however, was a falsehood ; he was an evil
spirit, and was endeavoring to destroy her soul by tempting
her to her ruin. She understood him, .ind calmly re[)lied:
" I choose to remain here, and to live alone, as I have
hitherto done; and I do not desire the company of any
one." Thereupon he produced a number of books filled
with beautiful pictures, and requested her to look at them;
but she refused. He then produced a beautiful ring, and
offered to give it to her if she would accept it ; he said it
had belonged to his mother, that he prized it very much,

^ta^^^uamsmmsi^

152

MICMAC INDIAN LEGENDS.

{I !

but that he would bestow it upon her if she would take it.
She said she had one ring already, and that it was enough ;
that her ring had belonged to her mother, and that she desired
no other ring ; and she said, moreover, that her father was a
king. The gentleman said that he would go home, but that
he would return again; and he took his leave. After he was
gone, she carefully locked all the doors and retired to rest.
Early the next morning she heard some one in the kitchen.
She went to see what it meant, and what was her astonish-
ment to see sitting there the same gentleman — or some one
like him — who had paid her a visit the day before. She
wondered how he got there ; he must be a sorcerer, or r. .
evil spirit. But she resolved bravely to give him battle, and
not be deceived by him; she determined to fix her mind
steadily upon God, and to pray earnestly for help. The
gentleman now rose and said, Eliimca ("I am going home"),
" but I will return to-morrow." She spent the day in prayer,
and retired that night to rest; but before the morning dawned,
she, with her house and all that pertained to it, had been
transported to heaven.

[The narrator of the above, Nancy Jeddore of Hantsport,
informs me that she heard it when quite young. It has a
clear moral lesson in it, and savors strongly of the nunnery.
This young lady retires from the wide world of sin and temp-
tation, shuts herself up in a cloister in the depths of the forest,
— or, as It comes out in the course of the story, gets lost, which
we may understand morally, — and is sent to this heaven-
protected place by the king, her father, who provides amply
for her, giving her some work to do, but leaving her much
time for prayer. She cultivates flowers, and especially one
bed of white lilies (moral purity), which she is taught to
defend at all hazards. But even here she is not safe, — the
Devil can scale tl'o fence; and she is taught to " beware of
dogs," to stop her ears to the enchanting music, and to all
the allurements of the seducer. She is enabled to resist by

wmu..m.mm-o.*MfUmsmKm^^nWf^

THE SOLITARY MAIDEN.

153

the exercise of prayer, self-denial, and faith ; and when there
is no longer a refuge for her on earth, she is carried beyoml
the reach of all danger, and taken up to heaven.

This seems evidently the moral of the story, and one
cannot but strongly suspect it to be a modification of a
legend concerning some saint. I am not sure of this, how-
ever, and I have written it down in Indian, as repeated to
me, and have translated it]

154

MICMAC l.XDIAN LEGENDS.

XIX.
THE PRINCE AND THE I'EASAXT-GIRL.

[The following story was related to nie by Xancy Jcddorc,
of Hantsport. She supposes it to be of Indian origin, and
told it to mc in Mic nac. I have not written the original.

While it relates to the white people, it bears unmistakable
marks of Indian authorship. I'irst, the king is supposed to
have a neighbor king so near that his son could go and
bring his bride home in one day.

Second, the king's business is supposed to be to look after
the poor, and to sec that they arc well supplied with seed
potatoes.

Third, it docs not sccni to have occurred to the author of
the story that the poor peasant-girl's education and previous
training would be likely to appear occasionally, and reveal
her humble birth. All this is as natural as possible, as
exhibiting the consciousness of the untutored Indian. If
the gin was kind and good and beautiful and well dressed,
she was of course fit to "set before the king."]

.if

THERI'L was once a king who had tuo sons and one
daughter. lie lived in a large town, and had many
fine liorses, many servants, and seven donkc}-s. He was in
the habit of driving out in his carriage, and taking his queen
and three children with him ; but when he did so, he took,
instead of horses, the seven donkeys to draw the carriage.

After the eldest son was grown up, he became dissatisfied
with this arrangement, and questioned his mother about it ;
he got but little satisfaction, though he obtained permission
to drive a pair of fine horses.

THE PRIXCE AND THE PEASANT-GIRL.

155

One day he drove out with his brother and sister and a
couple of servants; he went beyond the hmits of the town,
and, passing around tlie outskirts, came upon a very small,
luimble-Iooking house, where an old woman and a >-oung girl
— her granddaughter, whose parents were dead — resided ;
they were out of doors at their work in the garden. The
prince halted at this house, and told the company that he
would go in and ask for a drink of water. The servant
remonstrated, and begged to be allowed to go for the drink;
but the prince chose to go himself. As soon as this splendid
coach drove up to the door, the old woman and the girl fled
into the house. The old woman, whose clothes were ra"-n-cd
concealed herself; but the girl, on s<."cing that the coach
halted, and that one of the young gentlemen was coming
in, hastily tied on a clean apron, and adjusted her attire as
well as the emergency would admit ; as soon as she heard the
rap at the door, she opened it cautiously a little way and
looked out. The young gentleman asked for a drink of
water. She immediately took a pitcher, and obtained a fresh
supply of the pure, cooling beverage; taking a tumbler in
one hand, in which a clean towel was placed, and the pitcher
in the other, she put both into the hands of the visitor. The
prince walked back to the carriage, gave all a drink of water,
and then returned the pitcher and tumbler to the girl, slippin"-
two or tlircc pieces of gold into the pitcher before he did so.
She recei\ed them from his hand, and the ro}-al party went
on their way.

When the girl had set down the pitcher, slie noticed the
shining pieces lying at the bottom of the water, and not
knowing what they were, she asked in surprise, Noogumcc\
cogooivl ivcgct ? (" Grandmother, what arc these? ") The old
lady tells her it is soolcinva (money), and that they can now
buy food and other things sufficient to make them comfort-
able for some time.

But the prince was wonderfully pleased witli the beaut\',
modesty, neatness, and general appearance of the girl. He

156

MICMAC INDIAN LEGENDS.

!.,(,■

" (;■

determined to make her another visit, and in case he could
gain her consent, to make lier his wife.

So a few days after, he arranged his plans to make another
visit to the humble cottage. lie told his mother that he
would not be back to dinner, but would take some food and
dishes with him; that he was going some distance into the
country, and that he would call at some convenient place
where he could have his dinner prepared for him.

When the coach arrived this time, the girl was absent,
having gone out to obtain some seeds and other supplies
for her garden, and no one was at home but the grand-
mother. The prince called again with the ever-ready excuse,
the want of a drink of water. This the old lady gave him,
but she did not know that it was the same young gentleman
who had called on the previous occasion. When he had
taken his drink, he proceeded to ask some questions of the
old lady, in order to discover where the lovely object of his
search was. "Do you live here alone?" says he. "No,"
she answers; "I have a grandchild living with mc." "Is
your grandchild a boy or a girl?" he asks. "A girl," she
answers. "How old is she?" says the prince. "Nineteen
years old," she answers. "Where is she?" he inquires.
" Gone to hunt up some seeds for our little garden," she
answers. "Will she be back soon? "he asks. "She will," is
the answer.

He then tells her that he is taking a drive out into the
country, and that as he expects to be back a little before
noon, he would like to come there and take lunch if she will
allow him ; he tells her at the same time that they have their
provisions with them. The good woman modestly suggests
that her accommodations are none of the best, and that she
has no suitable cooking-apparatus to answer his purpose.
But he r'^moves all her objections : her nice little room will
just suit him ; and as for cooking-utensils, he has a supply
of them with him. This arrangement being concluded, the
coach moves off. Soon after, the girl comes in from her

THE PR/ATE AXD THE PEASAA'T-GIRL.

157

begging expedition, and the old lady tells her what has
occurred. She immediately goes to work and tidies up the
room, and gets herself in as good trim as lier limited circum-
stances will allow; and at the appointed time the coach
arrives. The baskets and jars of provisions are brought in,
and then the servant is sent away to some other place to
attend to the horses and to get his own dinner; the old
lady and her granddaughter assist in preparing for their
guest. When all is ready, he invites them to eat with liim.
But they hesitate; they are too bashful; they feel themselves
unfit to eat with a gentleman. It requires some perseverance
to overcome the bashfulness and hesitation of the girl ; but
she yields at last, and they e^t and drink and enfoy them-
selves at their ease. After dinner he makes them a present
of what is left, — dishes, kettles, and all ; for he had laid in
his stores with an unstinted hand. He then remains awhile
longer, asks a great many questions respecting circum-
stances, kakeiycseviilemdje ; and among other tilings, he
learns how poor they are, and that they are sometimes
pinched for seed (Indians are always pinched for seed in
the spring). He inquires why they do not go and lay their
troubles before the king. They tell him that they arc too
poor for this. But they are told that any one can have
access to the king who has any business of importance to
transact with him. Finally, the young prince, in a very
busmess-like way, asks her if she would be willing to be his
wife. The poor girl looks upon the proposal as a joke, and
refuses; when, however, he persists in his suit, and convinces
her that he is in earnest, she argues very sensibly that she
IS too poor and incompetent to be the wife of a gentle-
man. But the old grandmother decides the question more
promptly. She whispers to the girl, TiVim da (" Tell him
yes"). Finally, she decides to think it over, and give him
an answer by and by. It is now time for the arrival of
the servant, who has been told at what hour to come for
his young master, and who has been enjoined to strict

158

MICMAC I.XD/.LV LEGENDS.

ij :^i

;;f^'

. 'I

secrecy under a threat of being hanged if he should re-
veal aught; at the appointed hour he drives up witli the
coach, and the prince, who has not yet lisped a word
about his rank, takes his leave, promising to return after
seven da}'s.

The coach then drives home, and the mother of tiic prince
questions him as to where he has been. He tells her he
has been over into another town' in a neighboring kingdom,
and tlie queen's curiosit)- is satisfied ; she asks no more
questions, and he tells lier no more lies.

7\fter a day or two the prince intimates to his father that
a widow and an orphan living in the outskirts of the town
require a little looliing after, and he requests him to call
and sec them. So one day he and his queen drive out that
way; the king goes in, and being informed of their pr /erty,
and of the difficulty of obtaining seed for their little patch
of ground, inquires, as the prince had done, wh}' she did not
apply to the king for assistance. She says that she docs not
know the king, and doubts whether he would allow her to
approach him, even if she ditl know him. lUit he tells her she
is mistaken, — that the king would assist her, did he know
her case; and he encourages her to find him and try.

True to his promise, the young prince makes them another
visit in seven da\'s. They arc expecting him, and are all
ready to receive him. The pieces of gold left in the pitcher
of water at hU first visit have been well spent, and the
inmates of this humble dwelling are arrayed in more comely
suits of apparel ; the house is made to look as tidy as pos-
sible. This time the prince is attended b}' two servants
instead of one ; but neither of them has been there before,
and secrecy is enjoined upon thern as upon the other, and
under the same penalty of being hanged if the)' tell. He
now inquires of the girl if there is any place where the horses
can be fed. She saj's they can be accommodated in the
small stable where they keep their cow, but there is no
place for the coach. They manage, however, to hide the

■ l l ' iMi

THE JRIXCE AXD THE PEASAXT-GIRL.

'59

coach behind the stable. This time all

io ill, -rot thctr

dinner, and eat together. He now proposes to marry the
girl; she finally agrees to thinU the matter over. He prom-
ises that she shall hear from him in three da)-s, ?Jid that he
will come again, but he dwcs not say when.

Three da\-s after this he sends her a well-filled Inskcigrtn;^
and when she opens it, she and her grandmother are aston-
ished and delighted beyond measure at the contents. It is
packed with clothes, jewels, and gold sufficient to make the
possessor a princess. She arrays herself in her new robes,
and tells her aged friend that slie will marry the young man.
In due time he comes for her. He has told his fither he is
going for a wife, and in answer to the inquiries as to who
and where she is, he tells him she lives in tlie next town, and
is the daughter of the king of that place. So everything is
prepared for the wedding; the oxen and the fatlings *'arc
killed, and he goes away in his coach to bring home the
girl. In due time he arrives, and she is so beautiful and
so splendidly arrayed that all hearts arc captivated; the
wedding festival is celebrated with great pomp, and no one
ever mistrusts the rnsc.

[The story needs the touch of a fairy or of a magician's
wand to complete it, or else a plot which shall make it
appear that this poor girl was really the daughter of a duke,
and had in some way been spirited off in her infancy into
tliis humble home, and that it was natural to her to adapt
herself to her new situation.]

' Liukcigiin, box, trunk, or chest.

I Co

M/CMAC IXDIAN LEGENDS.

XX.

iir

THE TWO weasels;

THERI'v was once a widow who had two grown-up
daughters; as they were remarkably fair and white,
they went by the name of the Uskoolsk (Weasels). One
day their mother sent them out into the woods to dig
sUggfibtin (ground-nuts), and they lost their way. They
wandered about in the woods until night came on ; then they
prepared a place to lie do\vn and rest till morning. It was
a calm, clear night; yet they could not sleep for a long time,
but lay revolving in their minds their unhappy condition.
The stars were shining brightly above them, and in watching
them they finally began to forget their troubles. They
noticed that some of them were large and bright, while
others were so small that they could hardly see them.
They began to wonder what they were —

" Up above the world so high,
Like a diamond in the sky."

They imagined them to be the eyes of human beings, and
speculated as to what kind of husbands they would make.
Said the younger to the elder, " Which would you choose
for a husband, the large stars or the small ones, — a man
with the big eyes or with the little ones?" She replied, "I
like the big stars best ; I should prefer a man with the
large, bright eyes." "And I," said the younger, — "I like
the little stars better; I should prefer a man with the small
eyes."

1 See a second %'ersion of this story, under the title of " The Badger and the
Star-wives," I>cgond LIII.

rilE TWO WEASELS.

I6l

After a while they fell asleep. The younger one awoke,
and movin;^ her foot, touched some one, who immediately
called out: "Take care! you have upset my udujci^xvDdc." ^
She too sat up and looked. There sat a small, wrinkled
old man with his eyes sunk into his head, ard so sore that
they were almost closed up; the stars had heard the conver-
sation, and the little wrinkled old man had taken her at her
word. She had made a mistake.

Immediately after this the elder sister awoke and moved
her foot; when, to her surprise, she also touched some one,
who called out: " Take care ! you have upset my sckivon (red
ochre)." She sat up and looked around, when, lo ! a tall,
well-formed warrior, all arrayed in his plumes and finery, his
face and arms painted in the gayest hues, with large, lustrous
eyes, sits there looking at her. She had preferred the Large
Star, and there he sat. liut they told the girls to keep quiet,
to lie down and compose themselves till morning, and not
even then to stir until they heard the squirrels singing; and
not to mind the noise of the adoodoocch (red squirrel), but to
wait till they heard the singing of the abalpakumtch (ground
squirrel), and then they might get up. So they composed
themselves, and remained quiet until they heard the singing
of the ground squirrel. Then they opened their eyes and
looked about them ; when, to their astonishment, they found
that they had been meddling with things too high for them,
and had got themselves away up in the very top of a large,
tall white-pine. There a little bed of moss had been prepared
for them, where they were snugly ensconced, but down from
which it was impossible for them to come without help.
They had been changed into weasels, but retained all the
powers and principles of human beings.

So they waited for help. Sundry personages passed by

during the day, — all of them animals, brutes, which were

at the same time men who had the power of assuming

the form of their tutelary deities, their teoviiVs, and who

1 NibijegivSde, medicine for the eyes ; eye-water, eye-salve.

1 62

MIC MAC INDIAN LEGENDS.

!' '■

possessed at the same time power to perform many other
wonderful feats. The first who presented himself at the foot
of the tree was a Moose (Team'). They called out to him,
'NsisiinhiyiipkivaJiltn iicsaldhi ! ("Our elder brotlicr, set us
free, take us down ! We will s^o home with you, and he your
wives"). He looked up disdainfully at them; the slender
forms and fair white skins of the little weasels only awakened
dis^'ust and contempt in the bosom of Sir Moose. He told
them scornfully that he was alread)' married, — that he had
married in the autumn ; and he strode on.

Next the Shaggy liear (Sir MooTn) approached ; to whom
they made the same request, imploring him to climb the tree
and relieve them from their perilous situation. They prom-
ised that if he would only take them down, they would bestow
upon him all they had, as a reward ; they would be his wives,
and wait on his lordship in that humble capacity, liut he
said that he had been married in the spring; and he assured
them that he had no regard for them whatever. So he
growled, and walked on.

Next came a beautiful little animal of the same genus as
they, but of a different species ; this was a Marten, and they
implored his assistance. But, alas ! they were just as unsuc-
cessful as before, — each tribe, each race, each species, pre-
ferring to mate only with his own kind. The Marten said
that he was married in the early spring; ' and he scampered
off, leaving the little weasels still up in the pine-tree.

Next came a Kckwajoo (Badger), an animal said to be
very mischievous, and fond of play and fun. When the little
weasels implored his assistance, he pretended to comply with
their requests and to accept their terms; he thought that
he could have some fun with them by teasing and tormenting
them if he had them in his power ; so he ascended the tree
and brought down the younger one first. During the de-
scent the older sister, understanding his motives, and having

J Here is a little natural history. These animals pair in these different
seasons of the year.

THE TWO WEASELS.

163

If*

no intention of fulfilling her promise, planned to outr^cncra!
him; she took off her hairstrin^,* and tied it into a hundred
knots, weaving it among the branches of the tree in the
most difficult manner. The Hadger, having carried down
tile younger sister, came back for the other, and landed
her also safe on the ground. Then she requested him very
politely to return and fetch her hairstring, which she had
forgotten, and to be very careful not to break it. So he
returned, as requested; it took him a very lung time to untie
all the knots. Meanwhile the two Weasels constructed a
hasty tent, — a bridal chamber; they brought in to assist
them in the enterprise certain friends of theirs, — a bundle of
thorns, a company of hornets in a hornet's nest, a company
of pismires, and an ant-hill ; all these they placed at proper
stations in the little lodge, and then they ran away for dear
life.

After a while the Badger, having untied the siiggiildbcc,
comes down and looks for the young ladies. He sees a
small wigwam, and hears people laughing and chatting in-
side. Supposing, of course, that the two girls are there, he
rushes in. The place is dark ; and the first thing he knows,
he has put his nose in among the thorns, — which causes
him to yell and beat a hasty retreat Then he hears a voice,
apparently that of the younger sister, saying, NfimJscalc
("Towards my sister; " that is, " Go to my sister yonder").
Away he plunges in hot haste, right into the ant-hill, and
gets himself well bitten for his pains. But at the same time
he hears another voice saying, ' NkivHchkiilc ("Go towards my
sister," — that is, " my sister younger than I"). Away he
plunges, in the dark, into the other corner, straight into the
hornets' nest, where he meets the force of their terrible wrath
and more terrible stings. He now begins to realize that he

^ The Indian women o{ old used to allow their hair to grow lonj;, then double
it up on the back of the head, making additions to enlarge the roll, and then
bind all together in a bunch with a siiggAMee (long string) ; in short, they
wore "waterfalls."

164

MICMAC IXD/AX LEGENDS.

il
I

,. I;,

li i

has bocii oiit^cncrallcil. He had intciulcd to have a httlo
fun in teasing and luiiiicntin^ llic yirls, and lo ! the fun has
been all on the other side, lie is now enraqed beyond
all bounds ; he will pursue and tear the little whopijits to
pieces, that he will. lie runs out and smells round for
their tracks; Ihuling them after awhile, he rushes on after
them as fas* as he can {^o.'

Meanwhile the yirls have reached the banks of a wide,
rapid river. There is no means of crossing, but a large
crane is standing on the edge of the water; they call him
uncle, and, as they are in a great hurry running away from
an enemy, beg of him to set them over. lie replies that, as
he never works witlu)ut pay, they must at least acknowledge
the beauty and excellency of his form, and jjraise the beauty
of his robes; he bids them to ■^^y pc^cdkopclin (he has straight
and smooth feathers). " Indeed, indeed," they answer, " that
is true enough; our uncle lias straight and beautiful feathers,"
" Confess also that I have a beautiful, long, straight neck."
" Oh," they answer, " indeed our uncle has a marvcllousl)'
long and straight neck." " Acknowledge also that my legs
arc beautifully straight." "True, indeed,'' they answer; "our
uncle lias wonderfully long and straight legs." The vanity
and conceit of the old fellow being now sufficiently gratified,
he stretches out his neck and makes it reach quite to the
other bank ; and across on this potent bridge the two little
Weasels scamper.

Scarcely have they reached the opposite bank when, dash-
ing down to the shore, comes the I?adgcr in pursuit. He
looks about for a crossing-place, and seeing none, asks the
Crane in rather an insolent manner to set him across. But
the Crane demands the same tribute of flattery, of smooth,
bland words, at least, before he will perform the service.
The Badger is in no humor for flattering any one; he feels
cross, and so in repeating the sentences dictated by the
Crane, he adds a syllable or a word indicating that the facts
' The badger is a slow-going beast.

77//; yiro !r/:.is::/s.

165

cc.
els
the
cts

arc just opposite to wlr^t the words of the Crane sii^nify:
" Yes, yes, indeed, indeed ! your leys are strai^'ht, and beau-
tifully pointed, too, are they not? Smooth and line, indeed,
are your feathers, and covered with mildew and dust. A
wonderfully strai^^ht I'.^ck you have, — straight as this ; " as
he says this, he takes up a stiek and bends it back and forth,
back and forth, crumpling' it from end to end.

So the Crane stretches out his neck across tlvj "-ai^in^'
water, ami the Badger attempts to cross upon it; but when
he t^e-ts half-way over, his bridge begins to shake L,'reatly, and
sway from side to side, and finall)' takes a sudden runt, and
away he plunges into the rapids, and is borne ;»way headlong
down with the current. lie calls out: " I wish to land at
Cajahlii;uniich ! " — where indeed he did land, in other guise
than he desired. lie was dashed ashore upon the rocks,
killed, and left high and dry.

Meanwhile the girls went on. T(jwards evening they came
upon a deserted village, and went into one of the wigwams
to pass the night. The elder girl, fearing the effects of magic,
cautioned her sister to meddle with nothing ; but the younger
sister was not so careful, and did not attend to this warning.
They saw lying near the wigwam the neck-bone of an animal
(which, with the aid of a little imagination, could be matle to
look somewhat like the face of a person) ; this bone the
younger sister was not careful to treat with respect, but kicked
it around, and in other waj-s treated it with contempt.

They lie down and try to sleep ; but they soon hear the
c/icmilr/d'c'j^wrc/i' (neck-bone) shouting out, and complain-
ing of the indignities that have been put upon him, and
using very indignant and reproachful epithets towards the
one who did it. The poor girls begin to tremble. " Did n't
I tell you you would kill us if you did n't mind } " the elder
says to her sister. Rut the other is more frightened still, and
begs her sister to conceal her, to let her hide in her roll of
hair. As soon as she speaks, however, the magician astride
the neck-bone mocks her, repeating her words insultingly.

1 66

MICMAC INDIAN LEGENDS.

I I

Nothing hurts them, and in the morning all ii quiet; they
push on their way in search of some Indian village, and go
on down the river near the shore.

After a while they see a young man on the opposite side,
with a bow and arrow in his hand. They call out to him
to help them over, making the usual offer to become his
wives if he will comply with their request. He lays his bow
across, and they pass over to his side; he then tells them to
go on, that he merely helped them out cf pity, and that he
has housekeepers in abundance. They proceed down the
river, and soon see a canoe with two men in it. They ask
to be taken in; the men take them in, and go on. These
are two sea-birds, — a Kweemoo (Loon) and a Magwis
(Scapegrace). As they paddle on, the Loon begins to ad-
mire the two strangers, and becomes quite enamoured with
their beauty of form and dress. He tells them that he is a
native of the Wigem territory, the land of the Owcalkesk
(very beautiful Sea-duck), and that he is one of the tribe.
The Magwis cautions them not to believe anything this
fellow says, for he is lying and trying to ensnare them.
Arriving at the territory of the Owealkesk, they land.
The strangers are delighted with the appearance of these
people, so beautiful in form and features, and so splendidly
arrayed and ornamented. These people were no less pleased
with the strangers, they were so white and of such a fine
form. They were soon selected by two young chiefs, and
the weddings were celebrated with great pomp. They feasted,
danced, wrestled, and raced on foot and in canoes. Poor
Kweemoo was annoyed and chagrined, and tried hard to
vent his spite on the people, but failed. During the canoe-
race he capsized his canoe, and called out for some of the
young women to come and pick him up. The Sea-duck
told them not to mind him ; he will not drown, he will do
well enough. So, staying in the water as long as he pleased,
and finding that no one came to his assistance, he thought
better of it, and concluded not to drown himself that time.

vasss^

' " I ■i.HM i mi i liuiUiij i .ilL i ii i fe'- ■

7'//£ Tiro WEASELS.

167

The two young ladies, after their marriage, settled in their
new homes.

The story does not end hero; it goes back to the former
home of the two lost Weasels. They had one oochiainu-
vioool (brother younger than themselves); and as the girls
did not return the night after they left home, it was concluded
that they were lost in the woods; ' the next da)-, their brother
went in search of them. Aftc-r a long time he canie upon
their track ; coming to the river, he was ferried over on the
neck of the Crane ; he went down along the shore until he
reached a point of land called Cajahligiinuch, where he
perceived something unusual on ihe shore ; he knew not
whether it was a stone, a bea;-,t, or a man. He went up to
it, and lo ! there was the dead Badger in a state of putrefac-
tion, and full of maggots. He stood gazing at it ; and soon
it spoke, and inquired what he wanted. He answered that
he wanted nothing in particular. " Where an you going? "
asked the l^adger, springing to his feet ii^ the form of a ntan,
and shaking off all the maggots. The youth told him that
he was looking for his lost sisters. " I can tell you where they
are," said he; " come along with me." He went on a short
distance, and pointing to the opposite shore, very far off, he
said, "Your sisters are over there." "But I cannot' go
there," said the youth. "Yes, you can," said the other; "I
can take you over in my canoe." So he went on with him.
The Badger asked him to let him look at his bow and arrow ;
he handed them to the ]3adger, who broke them. When
the youth remonstrated, the Badger promised to make him
another. He took him into the canoe, and landed him
on that distant point, - a place exactly opposite to that
where his sisters really dwelt ; and there, having vented his
spite upon the innocent youth, he left him. [Here the story
leaves them both.]

thil"^' ' '^yvhcn all was forest, it must have been a very easy and common
thmg even fur Indians to get lost. This is said to have been the case.

h
«.

f!^'

1 68

M/CAfAC INDIAN LEGENDS.

[The preceding story was related to me by Ben Brooks,
of Falmouth, Nova Scotia. He understood English very
well for an Indian; I read to him *'.ic translation, — or rath.cr,
the story as I put it down in English, — and he pronounced
it correct. He is confident that the story is of Indian author-
ship, of which there can be no reasonable doubt. He thinks
it has been handed down from ancient times; of this there
is internal evidence, — particularly in the polygamy which it
presupposes, and the confident belief in magic]

S^prnp"

ADVENTURES OF NOOJEBOKlVAJEEjTf,

lOg

ks.
;ry
cr,
:cd
or-
iks
:re
it

XXI.

TPIE MARVELLOUS ADVENTURES OF
NOOJEBOKVVAjEEjiT,^ A MICMAC BRAVE.

AN IXCIDENT IN THE WARS BETWEEN THE MICMACS AND
THE MOHAWKS (KWEDECHK).

[The following story was related to me by a daughter of
Peter Toney, of Pictou. She said she learned it from her
father's eldest brother. Francis John Toney. He was eighty-
three years old when he died, and he died the first ycar^hat
the cars ran from Halifax to Bedford; his father's name was
Charles, and his father's name was Atween Wirrie.^]

T^WO young Micmacs, brothers, were married at one and
A the same time,-early in the summer. The ensuing fall,
they went With another man into the woods to hunt, taking their
w.ves with them. A war-party of Mohawks (Kwedechk)
discovered and killed them all. except one of the women.
Ihe chief of the party directed the men to spare her, and he
would _ make her his wife, she being euranfe. ■ hey returned
to the.r own place, up in Canada, and took the woman with
them. Once up in that far distant land, escape was hope-
le.s;^ and she resigned herself to her lot. and endeavored to
acquit herself in her new situation as well as she could. She
soon won the affections of her Mohawk chief, who taught her
his language; and when her child by her first husband was

* Spelled also Wejebokwajeejit
W.rrie.''^ ''^ "'" "'" '"' ''"' ""'"''^ ^'°"' '^' great-grandfather of Atween

170

MICMAC IXDIAN LEGENDS.

■I

t, •%

I' V'.

■^

born, he was wonderfully fond of it, made it his own, and
became more than ever attached to the mother. The child,
who proved to be her only one, was a boy.

The little fellow throve finely, and when he was a year old
he could run about; he soon outdid all his fellows in statu' 7,
strength, and cleverness. At the age of three years he was
so bright and promising that the other boys became jealous
of him, and began to taunt him with being a foreigner, an
alien, and an enemy. " That man is not your father," they
said; " he is our uncle. Your father is dead; for that man
killed him, and brought your mother here from a place very
far off." The little fellow was vexed, went home and told
his mother what the boys said, and asked her if it was true.
She told him not to mind what they said, for it was not true,
and they only wanted to tease him.

Time passed, and he was seventeen years old; he had
grown up rapidly, and liad shown many indications of magi-
cal powers. He had made no further inquiries about his
origin, but he had pondered for a long time upon the taunts
of his plaj'fcllows. He suspected that they had told him
the truth ; one day, when his reputed father was absent, he
again urged his mother to tell him the facts about his father.
She then told him all about his real father, the husband of
her youth, the attack of the Alohawks, the slaughter of all
but herself, her union with his foster-father, and how she was
brought to this place, where she expected to end her days,
never again to behold her native land. " But where is your
native land?" he inquires. " Away towards the oochcbitiook
(sunrising)," she tells him. Talcesooltijik ? ("What language
do they use?"). She gives him a specimen. "Have you
any rclati\-cs living?" he asks. She informs him that she
had, when she left, two brothers, and his father had one
older sister. " I shall go and sec them," he replies. " It is
very far away, and you will be pursued, overtaken, and
brought back or killed if you attempt it," she tells him ; but
he resolves to call in the aid of magic, to take vengeance

ADVENTURES OF NOOJEBOKIVAJEEJIt. 17 1

on the murderers of his fatlicr, and then return to their
country.

The first step was to learn the Micniac tongue, which his
mother dihgently taught him, taking care that no one should
know of it. One evening she and her husband went out
visiting, and when the>- returned they were astonished to find
that the son had grown to the dimensions of a giant during
the evening. He lay stretched out upon the grcund, and
his huge form extended from one end of the wigwam to the
other. His mother at first did not recognize him, but on
discovering who and what he was, she was in no wise dis-
pleased ; neither was his father. He was evidently a brave,
a doooin, a powxvozv, having the power of enlarging or
diminishing his size at will.

The next day he requested his father to procure for him
the frame of a pair of snow-shoes. His father, who had
always been so fond of him that he had indulged him in
everything, complied with his request, went out and hunted
for a suitable stick, and soon returned with the bows split
out, and all ready to be dressed and framed. " Tut! " says
he, " these will never do ! they are not half large enough. I
must go myself" So off he starts, and soon returns with a
pair of bows of such huge dimensions that it takes a whole
moose-hide to fill one shoe. The snow-shoes are finished
and laid by. Other necessaries are got ready for his intended
excursion, among which are a supply of clothing and twelve
pairs of moccasins. His mother furnishes him with a map
of Megumaghee (the land of the Alicmacs), drawn upon a
piece of birch-bark; she also makes for him a tiny pair of
snow-shoes after the Micmac model,' so that he will know
their tracks when he finds them.

When all is ready, he tics up his bundle, collects his
weapons, and prepares to start at dead of night. The snow
is very deep; this excites his magical powers so that he

I Every tribe har, its own particular model of canoes, p.acklles, wigvvams.
clothing, snow-shoes, crooked knives, and many other thmgs.

172

MIC MAC INDIAN LEGENDS.

pozvivoivs the whole vilhigc into a deep sleep, then steals
softly into the tents of all the subordinate ehiefs, seven in
number, kills them with his tomahawk, and scalps them all.
He then returns and performs the same operation upon his
foster-father, taking with him the eight scalps as mementos
of his bravery, and making off for dear life.

lie takes long and rapid strides ; he cannot step quite a
mile, like Hiawatha, but his single steps are equal to six of
an ordinary man. He knows he will be pursued, and tor-
tured without mercy if he is overtaken and overpowered.
Morning dawns, and he knows that his angry pursuers are
like hungry bloodhounds on his trail. He prays for fog; and
a dense mist surrounds him, and helps to baffle his pursuers.
But finding that they are gaining upon him (for he is not
alone in his glory of witchcraft ; magic can be pittc/1 against
magic), he slips off his snow-shoes, and dives down under
the deep snow, and makes his way beneath the surface as
fast and as f:ir as possible. His tracks consequently sud-
denly end, and his pursuers come to a dead lialt ; they
understand the dodge, however, and concluding that he is
not very far off, begin operations with their spears, striking
them down into the snow and going round and round in an
ever-widening circle. They do not succeed in hitting him,
but they come very near doing so. He can hear their talk,
and they wish him to hear; they desire to deceive him, —
to make him think that they have given over the pursuit and
returned home. " We must go back," say they, " and wait
till the snow is gone and the leaves have come." They do
in fact retire, but renew the pursuit once more. He now
uses another stratagem to elude them. He springs with a
flying leap, and seizes a tree without touching the ground,
climbs to the top of that tree, and leaps to another; thus,
squirrel-fashion, he runs across the forest, and docs not touch
the ground again until he is very far from the spot where he
left it. This process is repeated again and again ; some-
times lie leaps from the top of a tree to the ground, making

■pi

ADVENTURES OF NOOJEBOKlVAJEE/rr.

i;3

his tracks so few and far between that his pursuers finally
abandon all hopes of cr.pturing l.im and return, but with the
design of following him in the spring to wreak their vengeance
upon him. They kill his mother as an accomplice to the
deeds of her son.

Meanwhile, living on the game he kills, and resting himself
when fatigued, he presses on until he reaches the land of the
Micmacs. He travels on to the Bay of Fundy, which is
marked on his map. He soon comes to a place where a
moose has been killed, and all taken away except the heart.
He now compares his little snow-shoes with the tracks, and
sees that they are exactly alike ; he knows that he is in his
own country, and he feels secure. He roasts the moose's
heart, eats it, and goes on leisurely. After a while he reaches
a deserted camp ; he ascertains the direction in which the
people have removed, and follows on. He comes to another
deserted camp ; but he knows that the people have recently
left it, for the fires are not yet out. He now throws away
his huge snow-shoes, and strips off his Mohawk ornaments.
His long flowing tresses he carefully rolls up, turning
the ends under next to his head, so as to make his hair
appear short; he takes a quenched firebrand and blackens
his face and hands, so as to hide his f^iir skin and fine coun-
tenance, and look as ugly as he can. In this disguise he
travels on until he comes up to the encampment. He does
not go into any of the wigwams, but crawls under a pile of
fir-boughs outside, and lies down.

This wigwam is inhabited by an old woman and a vouno-
lad, who is her grandson. The old woman sends the boy
out that evening for a pot-hook, and he goes searching for a
suitable stick for that purpose, when he happens to step on
the pile of boughs under which our hero has ensconced him-
self. " Halloo ! " he calls out, " what are you about? " The
boy is startled; he can see no one, and concludes that it
must be something supernatural, and that he has received a
warning; he exclaims, EnMsiktumci t ("I hear something

^^^mmmmmmmm

mmmmmma

MIC MAC INDIAN LEGENDS.

r ;

1 u

?i'

ill 1

supernatural!") Moo i!innlslktumo'iVun ("You have heard
nothing supernatural "), sa}-s the stranger ; he forthwith comes
out, and shows himself to be a veritable Indian, — a Micmac,
speaking that language, but extremely ugly in person and
attire. The boy runs in and tells his grandmother ; she tells
him to invite the stranger in. He is accordingly called in
and hospitably entertained, according to the custom of the
red man.

There he remains for some time, taking great pains to
conceal his good looks and his great abilities, and saying
nothing of his history. He is very indolent, and careless of
his personal appearance. After a few weeks the old woman
gets tired of waiting upon him, and gives him a hint that he
ought to look out for a housekeeper and set up housekeeping
for himself. He laughs dryly at the proposal, and requests
her to look out a wife for him. She undertakes the mission,
and goes over to the chief's lodge for that purpose. The
chief has three daughters, — all clever, good-looking girls; but
the youngest is the most beautiful of the three. The whole
transaction is concluded in Indian style. Little is said, and
what is said is not by any means taken literally; the meaning
is hinted at, but not expressed. Thus, when the old woman
informs the young brave that he ought to take to himself a
wife, she simply says to him, " I am tired of cooking for
you." He takes the hint, and answers : " Then look out
some one else for me." She waits until late in the evening,
and then calls on the old chief at his lodge. " To make a
visit late in the evening" is a single word in Indian, which
expresses, figuratively, " to go in quest of a wife ; " the
business being transacted for the young man by a deputy, —
his mother, grandmother, or guardian. On the present occa-
sion the visitor is of a very humble grade; she has not been
in the habit of visiting the chiefs lodge (even in the wilder-
ness there are some fragments of caste to be found). When
the old chief sees her, he divines her errand, and invites her
up towards the upchelaase (seat of honor) ; he says, " Come

rxa;.'.'..,

ADVENTURES OF NOOJEnOKWAJEFJlT.

1 75

up higher," She, however, modestly sits clown near tlic
door, and is silent, waiting for a word of encouragement.
" Grandmother," says the chief, " what can have brought
yon here at this late hour? You do not come very often."
" No, I do not," she answers; " and I rather think you know
what I liave come after." " Well," he replies, " if the article
you want is here, 3'ou are welcome to it." This tells the
whole story; the matter is settled. She has succeeded in
her mission, and returns home. " Well," says the youwg
man, when she returns, "did they push you out of doors? "
She answers, " No." This is all that is said and done, so far
as the courtship is concerned (it is the ancient Jewish custom,
and has not yet entirely disappeared, either among the Jews
or other Eastern nations or among the Indians).

Such is the wooing and winning. The wedding follows.
This is managed by the young lady's parents. The chief
says to his wife next day, " Our neighbor over there is poor,
and we must send her a present." The girl's mother first
goes over and carries some food and clothing to the old
woman of the lodge where our friend WejebokwiijeejTt lives.
Then she returns home, and taking the youngest and most
beautiful of their three daughters with her, goes back; and
as she enters she finds the young man and the boy seated
on one side of the wigwam, and the mistress of the establish-
ment on the other. She bids the boy get up and take a seat
at the farther corner, and tells the young man to move a
little farther up from the door. Then she directs the girl to
sit down by his side, just below him, next to the door, and
informs her. Na liktribooti ("There, that is your seat").
The marriage ceremony is concluded ; she is now the young
man's wife.^ He erects a wigwam of his own, and establishes
a new home.

The details of an Indian wedding, under their ancient rSi^ime, would of
course vary. No priest, however, was necessary; after the negotiations were
finished, the young man would sometimes go and sit down by the side of the
girl selected for him, and that finished the ceremony.

'•irampwp^iwwf

ipjf,» ii'.'iKUVmil M!V»>">' "II""

176

MFCMAC rXDlAX T.ECENDS.

Diiriiifj all this time the young tnan has not thrown off his
disguise. lie is testing the sincerity of their hospitahty; if
they are friendly to him as a stranger, without expecting a
reward, he will repay them in due time. There will soon be
an opportunity for displaying his abilities as a warrior and as
a hunter. lie means to bide his time; the Kwedechk will
be down, and he will know when.

Spring comes, and a festival is held, at which there is a gen-
eral gathering. It is Easter. The)' remain together several
days. The other two daughters of the chief have in the mean
time been married, and their husbands are very likely fellows,
and they are very proud of them ; they all reside with the
chief. After the festival is over, and the inhabitants of the
neighboring villages have dispersed to their homes, the chief
and all the people of the village remove to the sea-shore, in
order to take advantage of the fishing-season.

When the leaves begin to put forth, WejebokwajecjTt pre-
pares for the anticipated visit from the Mohawks, and sends
word to the chief, advising him to assemble the warriors for
a festival and military drill. ^ The chief consults his subordi-
nates, and they agree to the proposal ; word is circulated,
and the people assemble. While the cooking is going on,
and some of the women are strolling round out of doors, the
two sisters of our hero's wife come over to the place where
their youngest sister is superintending the culinary operations.
They begin to taunt her about her husband's ugly looks and
lack of energy. The poor thing, having been pretty in her
girlhood, and having been much thought of, had been vain
and proud; and her sisters cannot help enjoying with mali-
cious delight her apparent humiliation. " You were much
prettier than we," say they, " but we are more than even
now; your husband is as much uglier than ours as you are
better-looking than we. He is of no use ; in case of war,
our husbands would be of some service, yours would not."

1 He divines the time when the Kwedechk will come do\vn.

ADVEMTURES OF XOOJEnOh-ll\'l/EE/Ir. \-jj

These reproaches sting her to the quick, but she says nothin-
She leaves them, and goes into the wiguani. Her husband
perceives that she is grieved about sometliing, and kindly
inquires the cause. Slie does not tell him ; but her tears will
start, in spite of all her efforts to restrain them.

I3ut the time has now come for him to throw off his dis-
guise, and w L't them see what he can do, and liow he can
look. He tells his wife to bring him some water in a dish;
he then washes himself thoroughly, and brings out his choice
robes and puts them on, paints himself and puts on his mili-
tary ornaments, and marches over to the chiefs lodge, where
the festival is being held. They go through the ceremony
of eating, and the captains begin the warlike performances.
First one and then the other dances the 'uskoivjknn (war-
dance). When Wejebokwajeejit's turn comes, he opens his
medicine-bag and draws forth eight Mohawk scalps, which
he flourishes A la mode ix^ he dances; when he has fmished
he goes up to the chief, grasps his hand, places the scalp-
locks on his knee, and tells him these are proofs of service
already performed, and should the time come, he is ready to
show him what he can do.

At this juncture a scream is heard, and there is a commo-
tion outside; a woman bursts into the lodge, cryin^r out that
a neighboring village has been attacked, and that he"r husband
has been killed. She is followed by another, and still another,
all makmg the same announcement. The warriors grasp their
weapons, and rush forth to the defence. Our hero isVar in
advance of them, armed with all his powers of magic, dealin-
death at every blow among the invaders. By the time the
others have come up, he has slain all but two, whom he has
taken prisoners ; to these he " reads a lecture," and then sends
them to carry the news home. " But before I dismiss you "
he says to them. " I will mark you." He then proceeds, in
true savage style, to put such a mark upon them as will
render a verbal report unnecessary, should they reach their
home. First, he cuts off their noses, then their ears, then

178

MICMAC INDIAN LEGENDS,

their checks; and thus disfii^urcd, they arc dismissed, to
make a report to their tribe of the success of tlieir
expedition.

Ever after, this man is duly honored by his tribe; and
his wife hears no more taunts about his lack of beauty,
activity, and courage.

■ :

I! '.

i I

JNCIDEXT 0/' ir.lA'S 11777/ /A.WiV.ViA' /XD/AA'S. {

XXII.

AN IXCIDKNT OF TIIK WARS WITH TIIK
KENEHKK INDIANS.

'T^IIKRr: had existed for some time a state of hostility
J- between the Kcnebcks and tlic Micniacs. Two parties
of the former, led by two brothers, had come down to I'ictou,
and liad fortified themselves in two blockhouses a little below
the mouth of the Pictou River. These blockhouses were
constructed of logs, raised up around a vault first dug in the
ground. The buildings were covered over, had each a heavy
door, and were quite safe fortifications in Indian warfare.
About seven miles to the eastward, at Alerrigomish, the
Micmacs were entrenched in a similar manner. It was some
time before there was any fighting; the parties kept a careful
eye upon each other, but there was neither friendly inter-
course nor actual conflict between them.

One night a party of Micmacs went out torching, — catch-
ing fish by torchlight. They were watched by the Kenebcks
who ascertained that they did not return to their forts after
they came back to the shore, but lay down on the bank
about midway between the fortifications of the hostile parties.
This was too strong a temptation to be resisted ; two canoes
came upon them, filled with armed men. They were sur-
prised, and all but two were butchered ; these made their
escape. They rushed to the water and swam for life, but
were hotly pursued. They came to a place where a tree had
fallen over into the water from the bank; it lay there with a
quantity of cclgrass piled up and lodged upon it; there they
took refuge, hiding under the eelgrass and under the tree, so
that their pursuers missed them in the darkness. After the

MUI4JILLB ^t,JliIl.iy,Ul .

'■,.1,. '....,,-.]).,-,,!.

i8o

MICMAC INDIAN LEGENDS.

S !

.'«U

search had been abandoned, the canoes returned, and the
two men came from their hiding-place and hastened home
to spread the alarm. Their dead companions had been
scalped, and their bodies consumed by fire; this news
roused all the warriors, and they resolved to attack the
party that had committed the outrage, and avenge it. They
had a small vessel lying inside the long bar that makes out
at Merrigomish ; this was immediately emptied of its ballast,
drawn across into the sea, filled with men, arms, and ammuni-
tion (for it was since the advent of the French), and imme-
diately moved up to the Kenebek ports, where it was run
ashore. The party was led by a kenap (brave), whose name
was Kaktoogo (Thunder), — or, as this name, first rendered
into French and then transferred back into Indian, has come
down, Toontile (Tonnerre). They ran the vessel ashore, and
in his eagerness for the encounter he leaped into the sea,
swam ashore, and rushed upon the fort without waiting for
his men. Being a mighty fozvivow as well as a warrior, he
could render himself invisible and invulnerable ; and they
fell before him as the Philistines fell before Samson and the
jaw-bone of an ass.

Having despatched them all, he piled their bodies into the
building and set fire to it, thus serving them as they had
served his friends. When all was accomplished, his wrath
was appeased. He then, at the head of his men, walked
up towards the other fort without any hostile display; the
Kenebek chief directed his men to open the door and admit
them in a peaceable manner. This chief had taken no part
in the fray; he had disapproved of the attack upon the
torching-party, and had tried to dissuade the others from it.
So, when ToonTde entered the fort, there was no display
of hostility. After their mutual salutations, Toonale dryly
remarked, " Our boys have been at play over yonder."
" Serves them right! " answered the chief; " I told them not
to do as they did, for it would be the death of us all."

It is now proposed that they make peace, and live in amity

1 !

LVC/DEXT OF IVARS WITH KEA^EBEK IXDIAXS. iSl

for the future; a feast is made accordingly, and tliey cele-
brate ic together. After the eating couie the games.' They
toss tlie altcstdknn^ — ih^ Indian dice. They run and play
ball. A pole is raised at the edge of an empty space some
three hundred yards across; the parties arrange themselves
four or five on each side; the ball is thrown into the air
and all dart towards it to catch it; he who succeeds in
catching it before it strikes the ground darts away to the
pole, all on the opposite side pursuing him; if they can
catch him before he reaches the pole, his party loses; then
tlie one who seizes him throws up the ball, and another
plunge is made after it; it is seized, and the fortunate party
dashes off again for the pole; thus the excitement is kept up
amid shouts and bursts of laughter, until the game is fin-
ished. This game of ball is called tooadijlk. Another kind
is called -.volchdmaadljik ; this is played with hurleys, the
ball being knocked about along the ground.

"Did they not wrestle?" I inquired of my friend Peter
"Oh. no!" was the reply; "wrestling is apt to lead to a
quarrel, and they would not under the circumstances run
any risk on that score."

There was one m.ne game mentioned; it was pitchin-^
quoits, -the name . .f which, soopdldooltljtk, is so clearly
M.cmakified H-rench ijoucr palct) ^ that the origin of the
play, so far r, our Indian friends are concerned, is clearly
marked and stamped upon the language.

In all these games the Micmacs gct\l.. . •. ^ry and if
they are impartial historians, they usually conquer' in their
wars with other tribes, and with the whites. Unfortunately I
have not yet the records of the opposite parties, the Mohawks
and kcnebeks; but if we may judge from what takes r.lace

and IZ. i:Z :.;'' " "-' '^-^^ ^^'^' ^° J-^^- ^- '^^ Voun^ .en now arise

2 The French sound of / does rot e^i.t in Micmac ; ir, transferrinir French

words they .nvariably use an . for M, , sound. They h..e no7 ' he ca e

the L'jrr"'''"^'"" ^''^ '^"" ^•^"•^ ^--A-'' becomes ^^^Z^
the ooU,jt^ bemg ju^t the plural ending and c. ...on to all verbs of that claS

s a am

182

MICMAC INDIAN LEGENDS.

!;'. I

/■ t

among other nations, their accounts would present a very
different view. But to return to the Kcnebek fort at the
mouth of Pictou harbor.

After the games were ended, the Kcnebek chief gives
the word : Noogoo clnfimook ! (" Now pay the stakes ! ")
A large blanket is spread out to receive them, and the
Kenebeks strip themselves of their ornaments and cast them
in; the following articles were enumerated by the historian:
'inchoowUle (epaulets), piigaldk (breastplates), ntsknmunu!
(brooches), nasaboodaki'in (nose-rings), nasogwaddknmil (fin-
ger-rings), nasHHigiinul (a sort of large collar loaded with
ornaments, more like a jacket than a collar), cpdakunnl
(hair-binders), egatcpcsoon (garters, sometimes made of silver,
as in the present case), ahgivcstinahel (hat-bands). These
articles were piled in, and the blanket filled so full that they
could scarcely tic it; then another was put down, and filled
as full. After this the Kenebeks returned to their own coun-
try; a lasting peace had been concluded, which has never
been violated, and probably never will be.

[Related by Peter Toney.]

STOHY OF A KOOKWES.

183

XXIII.

STORY OF A KOOKWES.

COME little boys were out hunting. A kookivcs (giant)
*^ was prowling round, watching for his prey, hunting for
people. In order to attract the boys, he imitated the noise
of the cock-partridge, the drummer; this he did by slapping
the palms of his hands upon his breast. The little boys
heard the noise, were deceived by it, and fell into the trap.
The huge giant (the giants are amazingly strong) was a
cannibal, and covered with hair like a regular gorilla; he
seized the boys, and intended to dash their heads against a
stone; but he mistook an ant-hill for a stone, and so^merely
stunned them all, except one, who was killed. The giant
then placed them all in a huge boochkajoo' (birchen vessel),
strapped them on his back, and started for home. The
boys soon recovered, and began to speculate upon their
chances for escape; it certainly must have seemed rather a
hopeless undertaking, but we never know what we can do
until we try. One of the boys had a knife with him, and it
was agreed that he should cut a hole through the boochkajoo,
and that they should jump out one after another, and scud
for home. In order not to awaken suspicion, they waited
until they heard the limbs rattling on the bark, as the giant
passed under the trees, before the process of cutting com-
menced. As soon as the hole was large enough, one slipped
out, and another and another, until all were gone but the
dead one ; the giant was so strong that he never perceived
the difference in the weight of his load.

When he arrived home, he left his load outside and went
into his wigwam, where he had a comrade waiting for him.

■^•T5^WWW^BI^^.^fB'^;^^Rp*«p«'flPi^7^

■ niini r - Miif mi} .fi i f Bf! «L | i ii

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184

MICMAC INDIAN LEGENDS.

to whom he communicated his good success. On opening
the cage, the birds had flown, all but one (toAoo sogoobahsJjlk).
They proceeded to roast the prey by impaling him on a
stick and placing him before a hot fire ; then they sat down
by the fire to watch and wait till he was cooked.

The children soon reached their home and spread the
alarm. A number of the men armed in hot haste, and
pursued the giant; before the meal was cooked, they
reached the ..ace. Whiz! came an arrow, and struck in
the side the i,, ii a ho had carried ofif the children; he
made a slight mov'" ent, and complained of a stitch in the
side. Soon another arrow followed, and another, but so
silently and so swiftly that neither perceived what they were.
The fellow fell slowly over, as though falling asleep; and
his companion rallied him on being so sleepy and going to
sleep before his tender morsel had been tasted. Soon he
also began to be troubled ; sharp pains began to shoot
through him, and as the arrows pierced him he also fell
dead.

[The above story was related to me by Peter Toney, as
an illustration of the stupidity as well as the physical
strength of the giants. It will be observed how in this
they resemble their brethren of European fiction ; those
that "our renowned Jack" slew were some of them remark-
ably stupid, — the Welsh giant, for instance.]

THE BEAUTIFUL BRIDE.

185

XXIV.

THE BEAUTIFUL BRIDE.

AN aged couple resided alone in the forest with their
•^^* only son. The young man provided for his parents
by hunting. One day he brought down a crow with his
arrow, and the snow was stained and reddened with the
blood of the bird. As the young man gazed upon the
three brilliant colors thus brought together in contrast before
him, he was struck with the singular beauty of the combina-
tion. " Would," thought he, " that I could find a girl whose
tresses were as jetty and glossy as the raven's wing, whose
skin was as white as the driven snow, and whose cheeks were
as crimson as the blood that stains it ! I would marry such
a girl, could I find one." When he came home, he told his
mother what had passed through his mind. His mother
informed him that there was such a girl, but that her home
was far away, — too far for a winter's travel; but when
summer came, he might go and fetch her. He resolved to
do this, and his mind dwelt much upon it.

Meanwhile he pursues his vocation of hunting, becomes
absorbed with other matters, and forgets his beau ideal of
beauty. Spring comes, soon followed by summer. One
day, while he is exploring the forest in quest of game, he
encounters a well-dressed, good-looking man, who salutes
him in a friendly way and asks what he is doing out there.
He tells him he is in quest of venison for the use of his
household. " Well," rejoins the stranger, " of what were you
thinking about so much last winter?" It takes the young
man some time to find out to what he refers; finally he
recalls to mind the circumstance of the dead crow, and

?w^^^

. ' "fttJMua i w ii«a«w— I

■;'!l

' i !

1 86

MICMAC INDIAN LEGENDS.

the wish that had passed through his mind respecting the
beauty of the girl he would like to marry, and what his
mother had told him. He relates the whole affair to the
stranger, who assures him that he knows of such a girl, and
can guide him to the place where she lives, and assist him
in the important business of winning her for his bride. This
stranger is a Mcgumoowesoo ; and the young man accepts
his proposal, goes home to inform his parents, and to make
preparations for the journey. Having made all his arrange-
ments, he starts off, and soon is joined by his friend of
supernatur-; -prowess. On they go in company, until, after
several days travel, they reach the borders of a very large
lake. -About midway between the extremities of this beautiful
sheet uf w.i. r, cn cue shore, is a large wigwam, inhabited by
an old man. He receives them kindly, inquires whither
they are going, and what their object is. The Mcgumoowesoo
answers for his young friend ; and Glooscap — for it is no other
than he — does not disapprove of the adventure, but gives a
word of ei^.couragement. They must cross the lake, however,
and they see no means of transit. But the veteran offers to
lend them a canoe, and accompanies them to the shore, where
they are directed to step upon a small island which is covered
with trees and rocks, and are told that this is his canoe; as
soon as they embark and unmoor, the island craft moves off
by magic, and glides over the glassy surface of the lake
without sail, rudder, or oar, and conveys them straight to
the distant opposite shore. There they land, moor their
boat, and start upon their long journey through the forest.
They had passed one danger, of which they had received
timely warning from Glooscap. This was a huge skunk, —
a necromancer who had assumed the form of this animal ;
he had taken up his position on the extremity of a point of
land extending far out into the lake, around which it would
be necessary for them to go. There he stood as they
approached, all ready to deluge, stifle, and drown them as
they passed. The Mcgumoowesoo was too much for him;

j|^ I

THE BEAUTIFUL BRIDE.

187

making a slip-knot at the end of a cord, with a movement
sudden and adroit he rendered powerless the magician's
means of offence and defence, by cording the orifice'^of his
unsavory reservoir, and they passed the enchanted place
unscathed.'

Not far had they proceeded on terra finna before they
encountered a man with a strong-built, muscular frame, who
was chopping logs. Seeing no means of conveying them to
the shore, they asked him how this was done. " I take them
on my back," was his answer. He then inquired whither
they were going, and what their business was. They told
him, and he proposed to accompany them ; to this proposal
they all agreed, and the three went on together. They soon
came up to another man, who was hopping along on one foot,
the other being tied close up to his body. They asked him
why he tied up his leg. "To keep from running too swiftly,"
he replied. " Were I to untie my leg," said he, " I should
go around the world in four minutes." "Let us see you
run," they replied. Whereupon he untied his leg, and,
presto! he was out of sight, and in a few moments returned
from the opposite direction, having run in the mean time
round the whole world. On learning the object and des-
tination of the party, he offered to go with them ; and his
company was cheerfully accepted.

They next come up to a man of portly size and mien,
whose nostrils are carefully closed and guarded. " What is
the meaning of all this? " he asks. " I thus hold back the
storm and restrain the whirlwind," he replies. " Let us see
a display of your powers," asks the superhuman guide of the
company. Immediately he releases the pent-up winds, and
they rush forth to the work of destruction, tearing up the
earth, overturning the rocks, and smashing the forest. This
man also joins the party.

1 The opening of the sack containing the fetid fluid, which is the same in
both male and female of this disagreeable animal, is projected in the form of
a tube when the aiiimai is about to discharge his bile.

iammMMimM

i 'if'

[
•It

t i

! ,1
r •

i88

M/CMAC /Arn/AX LEGENDS.

In due time they reach a wide, beautiful river, meandering
through an extensive meadow, which runs parallel to a chain
of high mountains, at whose base is a perpendicular bluff,
and midway between the bluff and the meadow is a large
Indian town. The inhabitants are well clad, of goodly stature,
and commanding mien. They make their way to the chief's
lodge, share his hospitality, answer his questions, and make
known their errand ; they have been informed that in this
town dwells a beautiful girl, whose skin is as white as snow,
whose cheeks are as red as blood, and whose hair is as black
and as glossy as the raven's plumes; and that this young
man has come to woo and to win her. They are informed
that the story of the girl is correct, but that the task of
gaining her hand and heart is difficult and dangerous: he
must enter the lists with the other suitors, and contend with
them in certain athletic games; to the winner the prize
will be awarded. The terms are accepted ; and after several
days of feasting and preparation, the contest begins. First
they dance, and the Mcgumoowesoo comes off victor. Then
they run. Another party produces a runner who has to
confine one leg on all ordinary occasions. They are let
loose, and start for a race round the globe ; our friend's
comrade comes in four minutes ahead of the other com-
petitors, and wins the day. Next, they engage in feats of
strength, — lifting, pitching rocks, wrestling, and pulling at
each other at square angles, grasping with their hands a
piece of wood; our log-lugging friend carries off the palm
in all these exercises. One more trial completes the contest.
They must coast down the side of that mountain, and leap
the bounding precipice with their sleds; the one who
reaches the ground unscathed carries off the beautiful girl.
Two parties volunteer for the dangerous experiment, — the
Megiimoowcsoo and his young friend, and two other men
of mighty magic. The whole village turn out to witness the
exciting scene. Down from the beetling battlement dash
the sleds ; and as the Megiimoowcsoo and his charge reach

THE BEAUTIFUL BRIDE,

189

the verge of the cliff, he utters a shout, and down they dash to
the ground all right, and hold on their headlong way through
the village, and far out upon the grassy meeid that lines and
adorns the banks of the broad-flowing river. The other
party dash headlong over the cliff, and are killed.

The contest is now ended; the young stranger receives
his prize, and celebrates the wedding feast. The party then
leave for home, bearing away the beautiful bride. Not far,
however, have they proceeded, when a terrific roar and
crashing is heard thundering in their rear. They look
round, and are horror-stricken at the sight; a terrific whirl-
wind, conjured up by the magicians of the village, is bearing
down upon them, ploughing up the earth, rending the rocks,
overturning the trees, and snapping them like pipe-stems as
it comes on. Now comes in play the prowess of the man
with the mighty breath. The plugs are withdrawn from his
nostrils, and the storm is let loose ; whirlwind meets whirlwind
in mid-forest, and mingles heaven and earth in their rage.

The retreating party are again triumphant; tempest turns
on tempest, and storm chases back the storm, sweeping away
everything in its course, rending the village to atoms, and
destroying all the inhabitants.

The party now proceed at their leisure; each comrade
drops off as he reaches his home. The Megumoowesoo,
his young friend, and his bride reach the lake and embark
on board the magical canoe, and are swiftly conveyed to
the other side. There Glooscap meets and greets them;
they relate their adventures, and are kindly entertained.
Afterwards they go on. The superhuman guide slides off
to his home; and the young couple arrive safe, to cheer
and delight the aged and anxious pair.
And so the story ends.

[Related to me by Ben Brooks, Aug. 31, 1869. He heard
it long ago, but cannot tell the origin ; he is quite sure it
was manufactured by the Indians of the olden times.]

""lilppiPiiRPpnMPPi?

MlJ„VH*||.'i.l ^

190

MICMAC INDIAN LEGENDS.

XXV.

ADVENTURES WITH A CHENOO, OR NORTHMAN.

II it. ,

I. i

V\'' \

TWO Indians, a man and his wife, with one small boy,
went one fall far away toward the northwest, into the for-
est, to hunt and trap. Having pitched upon a suitable place
for their purpose, they erected a comfortable lodge, and pre-
pared to spend the hunting-season there, and also to continue
in the same place until spring, intending after that to return
to their native village. All went on for a while according to
the usual routine of Indian life on the hunting-ground ; the
man brought in plenty of game, and his wife had her hands
full of business slicing and drying the meat, preparing her
husband's food, and taking care of her little boy.

One day, while collecting firewood, she observed an
unusual commotion among the bushes, as though some
large animal — a moose, a bear, or a deer — were making
his way through them. She looked an.xiously towards the
place, and soon discovered an object that caused her heart
to thrill with horror; it seemed part human, part beast, part
demon. It was of the size and form of an old man, stark
naked and with a hideous countenance ; his lips and shoulders
seemed to have been gnawed away ; he carried a small
pack on his back. From what she had heard of the terrible
Chenoo from the north, she concluded he was one of that
horrid tribe, a cannibal, and that he would surely kill and
devour her. With great presence of mind, she determined
to try the effects of a ruse, and treat him with unwonted
attention and kindness ; she would pretend to mistake him
for her own father, and rejoice over him as though he
were so in reality. So, bounding forth to meet him, she
exclaimed, '* Why, my own dear father ! where have you

aas

ADVENTURES WITH A C/IEA'OO, OR A'OA'T//Af,t.V. 19 r

come from, tHtpkitotin (after being gone so long)? Come
in, come in ! " Seizing him by his hand, she led him with
all haste to the lodge; and manifesting great sorrow at seeing
him look so woe-bcgone, she hastened to bring out a suit of
her husband's clothes, which she begged him to put on.
He made no reply to all these demonstrations, but accepted
the clothes, put them on, and took his scat. She inquired
if he was not hungry, and hastened to prepare a meal, which
she placed before him, but which he scarcely tasted, main-
taining all the while a stern and angry-looking countenance,
but saying nothing. She smothered her emotions of terror
as best she could, and pretended to be so glad to see him,
bustling about and making herself as busy as she could be,
telling her little boy not to pass before his grandfather, lest
he should accidentally touch and disturb him.

After a while she went out to complete her supply of fire-
wood for the night; while thus occupied, her visitor rose
and walked out where she was. " Now," thought she, " my
hour has come; he will certainly kill and devour me." Her
fears were increased by his asking for the axe; they were,
however, soon dissipated when, on taking the axe, he com-
menced a vigorous onslaught upon the trees. He cut them
down and broke them up as though they had been straw,
and soon had such a quantity piled up that she had to stop
him. Noo, tdbeagiil booksodgiil (" My father, there is fuel
enough "), said she. He laid down the axe, walked into the
wigwam, and took his seat as before ; she followed him in,
and seated herself also near the door. They ... n profound
silence ; yet she ever and anon looked earnestly out for the
approach of her husband. As soon as she saw him, she
rose hastily, went out, told him what had happened, what
she had done, and begged him to aid her in carrying out the
ruse. He did so; coming in, he accosted the stranger as
'Nchilch ("My father-in-law"), and repeated the question:
"Where have you come from, and how long have you been
away?" He also seemed to manifest great delight in seeing

ifffmm^Bmm^mf^

193

MICMAC IXDIAN LEGENDS.

1'^!

his father-in-law a^fain. The stern countenance of the oKI
Chenoo relaxed a little ; and the husband bej^an to relate all
the adventures that had occurred since the father-in-law had
been away, and in which he was of course supposed to I
intensely interested.

lie listened, but without manifesting much interest, and
when food was prepared, he was again urged to eat; this
he refused to do, eating only a very scanty measure. When
night came, he lay down and slept, — which his terrified host
was unable to do. All the following day the Chenoo main-
tained the same sullen taciturnit}-, and the man never left the
wigwam. On the third daj- the Chenoo began to yield to the
power of kindness; and addressing the woman, and calling
her ^Ntoos (" My daughter"), he inquired if she had any tal-
low. She told him she had a great quantity. lie requested
her to melt some for him; she did so, and melted a quantit}'
sufficient to fdl a gallon measure. lie requested her to hav
it very hot; she brought it up to the boiling-point, when he
raised the kettle to his mouth and drank it off. It made him
so sick that he turned deadi}' pale, and soon began to vomit.
Up came the melted tallow, and with it a vast amount of
offal, and all abominable things that were appalling to the
senses ; it required a vigorous effort of arm and shovel to
remove it from sight and smell. After this disemboguing
operation the old chap seemed better, and lay down and
slept. When he awoke, he asked for food, and ate heartily ;
and when the roaring fire operated too powerfully on his
cold-bred carcass, he requested in a gentle voice that a
screen might be placed between him and the fire. This
was done, and soon he became so social and familiar that
their fears were dispelled.

One day he asked the woman in a gentle voice, 'Ntoos,
pcla weoos? ("My daughter, have you any fresh meat?")
She told him she had none. He then asked the man if
there was a spring of water in the neighborhood. He was
told that there was none nearer than a half-day's journey

i!
■II

ADVFXrrRES WITH A CHENOO, OR XOKT/nrAX. 193

[his
Ihat

^os.

,'as

from that place; il he ilcsirccl to be shown wlicrc it was, he
would go with him. " We must t;o to it, " said the dKI
Cheiioo; "we will start to-morrow, and you shall lead the
way." Tlicy made all necessary preparations. The man
had several pairs of snow-shoes of different sizes, as is usually
the case: one pair of larj,'cst dimensions for liL^ht sno\v, and
others varj'in;^ in size to suit the hardness of the crust, —
a small, liijht pair beinc; quite sufficient when the crust his
been formi.d b)' a hard frost after a rain. The Chentjo was
supplied with a suitable pair, and at early dawn the two
started off for the distant sprin<;. The Micmac was surprised
at the tleetncss of his companion; as the former was youui^
and active, and the other appeared old and decrepit, it seemed
marvellous that while he was \ iding off at the top of his
speed, the Chenoo kept up wiiliout any apparent effort.

In due time the spring was reached. It was large and
beautiful, and the snow was all melted away around it.

The Chenoo doffed his robes, and began a vigorous magic
dance around it; soon the water rose and fell, as if lifted by
some huge monster below. Such a monster there really was,
and he soon made his appearance; it was a huge taktalok
(lizard).^ First he raised his huge head, and soon made a
move to come out, when he was met by a blow from the
tomahawk, which stiffened him, and he was dragged out and
cast upon the bank. This was the male; a similar process
of magical dancing brought up the female mate, of a lesser
form, which was in like manner killed and dragged out. This
novel hunter then began his operations of dressing the game ;
he cut off the licad, the feet, and the tails of the crocodiles,
took the skin from the bodies, and removed the intestines, —
throwing all the offal into the spring, to grow up, or rather
down, again into another pair of lizards of ordinary size, out
of which these huge ones had been foivivozved. The meat
greatly resembled bear's-meat. The two carcasses would

1 TAktAlok, Micmac; ^j.'^fJ/aVfj^'M', Maliseet. Alligator and crocodile are evi-
dently of a similar origin.

»3

sSSfi^^JSSWIWSSPW"

••■ 'JiJ..,iiL" IL..JkM«

194

MIC MAC INDIAN LEGENDS.

\\\

,"i

each weigh about two hundred pounds, — such a load as
two ordinary men would not care to lift, and which it would
be utterly impossible for them to carry far; our Chcnoo
friend bound the two carcasses together with withes, adjusted
the burden to his shoulders, and bade his comrade lead off.
It was now considerably past noon; and as the journey was
long, they started off on the run. The man without the
burden considered himself very swift upon the foot ; but the
Chenoo, with his heavy load, pressed close upon his heels.
" Can you run no faster?" the Chenoo inquired after a while.
" No, 1 cannot," was the answer. " Well, the sun is getting
low; and at this rate darkness will be upon us before we
reach the lodge," replied the Chenoo. So he called a halt,
directed his comrade to get upon the load, to brace his back
against his, and to hold his head low, so as to avoid the
limbs of the trees as they passed. Having fixed himself firmly
on his friend's shoulders, the latter started off at such a pace
that ncbesokiinodjul sanids tnktcskfigulcJicl zvegzvasiiviugwcgul
(the bushes fairly whistled as they flew through them), and
they reached home some time before sunset.

The mistress of the establishment, on being told what the
venison was, felt somewhat reluctant about having anything
to do with it ; but her husband encouraged her to dress and
cook it for their guest, but not to eat of it herself. The flesh
resembled that of a bear, both in taste and looks. The man
ventured on one occasion to taste it, and testified this; but
the Chenoo alone fed upon it.^

Towards spring, life in the woods was varied by another
adventure. One day the startling announcement was made
that in three days an attack would be made upon them by an-
other Chenoo from the distant north; and preparations were
made for war, offensive and defensive. The man, wife, and
child were to be concealed in a cave, and their ears carefully
stopped, as the war-whoop of the terrible Northman would

1 The Tndinns will eat alniust anything in the shape of fish, flesh, or fowl j
but they do not eat choojcahk (reptiles).

ADVENTURES WITH A CUEXOO, OR NORTinrA.V. 195

kill them, should they hear it distinctly. Should they escape
the first onset, the first whoop, they would more easily survive
what follows. " When you hear my voice," he says to them,
"you will be all right again." Before the dreaded day arrives,'
the Chcnoo sends the woman out to fetch a small bimdle
which he brought on his back when he came, and which was
hung upon the branch of a tree, where it had since remained
untouched. Pie tells her to open it, and throw away anything
offensive to her that she may find therein, and to bring to
him a smaller bundle which is within the other. She does
as directed, and on opening the bundle, she finds to her
horror a pair of human heels and legs, — the carefully pre-
served remnants of a former horrid meal ; these she throws
away as far as she can fling them, and brings in the smaller
bundle, as directed. He opens this, and takes out a pair of
dragon's horns about six inches in length, — one of them
has two small branches, the other is smooth and straight;
he gives the forked one to the man, and informs him "that
this is the only weapon that can prevail against the approach-
ing foe. The arrangement is for the Chenoo to go out alone
against the enemy, and the others are to conceal themselves
and stop their ears, as directed. " But should you hear me
calling and saying, ' My son-in-law, come out and assist me ! '
you must come to my aid at once." All this is done. The
encounter takes place; and though the man, woman, and
child are concealed below the surface of the earth, with their
ears stopped, the .sound of the terrible war-whoop almost
splits their heads, and makes them nearly crazy. They
immediately hear the answering whoop of their friend and
ally; their heads cease ringing, and they are all right again.
Now the combat begins, and rages furiously; rocks are hurled
from their places, the ground is torn up, trees are broken and
crashed down in all directions. The party in the cave listen
to the frightful commotion, and hold their breath in terrible
suspense. Presently they hear the voice of their friend call-
ing for help : " My son-in-law, come and help me ! " Away

196

MIC MAC INDIAN LEGENDS.

•i-i

he darts at the word, and soon comes up to the combatants.
What a sight meets his eyes ! The two men have swelled
into the size and bulk of mountains; the stronger has the
other down, and is making rapid thrusts at his car with the
terrible dragon's horn. Our little friend cannot be seen by
the foe, he is so small ; and he tauntingly tells the other,
" You have no son-in-law to assist you, and ndhujcoV T" T will
soon take your accursed life)." ^

Meanwhile the one who is underneath keeps wabbling his
head rapidly from side to side, to evade the deadly weapon
which is aimed at his ear; and the son-in-law is directed to
thrust his weapon into the ear of the foe. This he does
by one well-aimed blow, and the magical horn comes out
through the other ear, and assumes the size of a crow-bar;
he is directed to push one end into the ground, raise the
other end and place it by the side of a tree. As soon as the
horn is thrust into the ground, it takes firm root there, and
cannot be withdrawn; as soon as the other end is raised and
placed by the side of a tree, it winds itself around, climbs
the tree like a vine, and cannot be disengaged. The victim,
thus pinned, is conquered, but not killed ; the other now
disengages himself, and both begin operations on the fast-
ened foe. They first prepare a large quantit)' of fuel, then
kindle a huge fire. They next hack the prisoner in pieces,
and burn his flesh and bones to ashes, being careful that
not a particle of raw flesh shall remain unconsumed. Should
this be the case, their labor would be all in wain, — all the
work would have to be done over again; as from that small
particle of flesh would spring a living Chenoo exactly like
the other. They work with a will, and soon have subdued
all but the old fellow's heart ; this is formed of solid ice, so
cold and hard that it instantly extinguishes the fire, which

1 It is a mist.ikc to suppose that the Indian cannot swear in his own tongue j
he can do so, hut not so fearfully as an Englishman can in English. The Indian
introduces his venom into his s])eech by inserting an extra syllable; thus,
inll'd!', " I kill you; " tidbiijiol', " I take your cursed life," or some such spiteful
epithet.

.ij. ii i.i»j.n iii .mu» Mii i

ADVENTURES WITH A C//EXOO, OR XORTIIMAX. 197

has to be rekindled around it again and again. It, how-
ever, grows smaller by degrees; and finally a few well-
directed blows with the hatchet so reduce it that it melts
and vanishes. The party then return in triumph to their
camp.

In due time spring returns, and they prepare to go down
the river to their more southern home ; the now domesticated
guest is persuaded to accompany them. They construct an
additional canoe for his accommodation; it is covered, not
with birch-bark, the usual material for Indian ship-building, but
with the more unusual kind, — the skin of a moose; the craft
thus formed being called a moosoolk' (moose-ship).i When
all is ready, they start and sweep rapidly down the river, now
swollen by the thaws and rains of spring ; the Chcnoo occu-
pies the moosoo.'k' , and the other takes the lead. Soon the
river spreads out into a vast lake ; and while they are gliding
leisurely over its calm surface, the Chcnoo makes a sudden
dash, dives under the thwarts of the canoe, and conceals him-
self in the bottom. He is asked to explain the cause of this
sudden movement. He replies that he has been discovered
by one of his brethren, who stands upon a mountain, the out-
lines of whose blue tops are just discernible in the distance.
The Chcnoo is standing there, looking over the face of the
country. He can see one of his own kind, even at that
distance; but he cannot discern either the canoe or the other
persons of the party. The domesticated one must therefore
keep concealed, or he will be pursued, compelled to fight,
and perhaps be overcome ; he prefers peace to war. So his
craft is taken in tow by the other, and conveyed across the
lake until it contracts again to the ordinary width of the
river. The Chenoo then lands, and refuses to venture upon
the water again. He asks for a description of the place
where they propose to land and pass the night; he then

1 The Indians h.nve several names for a canoe : hivtfthi, a bark canoe ;
'«AW, my canoe, my water-craft of any kind ; moosoolk', a canoe covered with
moose-skin , sko^ttmoolkxo', a new canoe ; 'nkanooik-cu, an old canoe.

«^

Mi"

"hi I

hi:

1 '

•■ it
r

■ !

198

M/CMAC INDIAN LEGENDS.

goes forward on foot. Meanwhile the canoe, impelled by
the strong arms of the man and woman, and assisted by the
swollen and rapid current, makes furious headway ; but what
is their astonishment, in coming rapidly around a point, to
see smoke arising through the trees at their proposed landing-
place, and on heading in for the shore, to find their friend
stretched out in calm repose, sleeping by the fire he had
kindled ! He goes on by land again the next day, and
reaches the resting-place long before his comrades arrive
in their canoe.

As they go south, and get into the warm weather, the
heat overcomes the man from the frozen north ; he grows
weaker and weaker every day, — so much so, that when they
reach their home he is nearly dead. The people of the vil-
lage gather round and look at him. His lips arc healed, and
his teeth no longer grin ghastly as when he first came; his
shoulders, too, are healed ; in short, his whole appearance is
changed. He is tamed and humanized, but he is not a
Christian. His friends, though they had been converted
to the Catholic faith, had not yet learned to trouble them-
selves much about others ; they now, however, send for the
priest, who finds the poor Chcnoo as ignorant as a beast of
the first principles of religion. He endeavors to instruct
him ; and the Chcnoo soon lends an attentive ear, is baptized,
and dies in the Catholic faith ; and kcspcadoohsit (here ends
the story).

[This story Louis Brooks heard from his grandfather,
Samuel Paul, a chief, who died in 1843, at the age of eighty
years ; he was famous for relating old stories of war. This
story gives a vivid picture of the supernatural powers attrib-
uted to the Chenoo, and afifords additional proof of the
tradition of these remarkable beings having arisen out of
the first visits of Europeans with fire-arms and spy-glasses;
they always delighted in displaying before the astonished
natives the astounding effects of their artillery, and it i;.'

.], l f >I . I WH II|ll| |L I|ip W

ADVENTURES WITH A CHENOO, OR NORTHMAX. 199

not likely they were very scrupulous about firing blank
cartridges, nor very particular as to the way in which the
guns pointed.

Related to me by Louis Benjamin Brooks, who supposes
it to be true, and written down Sept. 5, 1859.J

200

MJCMAC INDIA I^ LEGENDS.

1',

^ i!
i!

^ .i

XXVI.

ORIGIN OF THE WAR BETWEEN THE MICMACS
AND THE KWEDECHES.

/^N the two opposite banks of the Restigouchc, near its
^^ mouth, were two towns, — one inhabited by IMicmacs,
and the other by the Kwcdeches.^ They were at peace
with each other, and frequently attended each other's
festivals.

On one occasion the Micmacs had attended a festival of
the Kwedechcs ; and while the children were engaged in
some of their games, a child of the Micmac party was killed.
Nothing, however, was said about it at the time, and it was
passed over as an accident; but the circumstance was remem-
bered. Not long after, the Kwedeches were invited to a
feast by the Micmacs. They feasted, they danced, tooaadijik
(they played ball), tossing up the ball ; the one who caught
it had to run to a fixed pole, and if he reached it without
being caught, he won the game ; if he was caught, he yielded,
and the one who succeeded in grasping and holding him took
the ball, and the party to which he belonged had the next
throw. The players were stark naked, except a cloth around
their loins, so as to make it a difficult matter to seize and hold
them. Generally, this could be done only by grasping them
by the hair of the head. Another game was the alcJidinadijik
(hurley). The women, too, had their games, — the altSstakun
(a sort of dice) ; and the wobundkun, somewhat like altcstakfin.

While the games were proceeding, the Micmac boys took
occasion — accidentally, as they would have it supposed —

1 Kiu^dhh is the singular form of this word, and is both adjective and sub-
stantive. As substantive the plural is either Kiijcdcchk or KwhiSches, both of
which forms occur in the manuscript. — Ed.

fFA/;^ BETWEEN MICMACS AXD KWEDECIIES.

201

to revenge the death o{ their comrade by kilHng two of the
other party. Nothing was said of the matter at the time,
and it was passed over as an accident; but the yoiin--'- folk
laid it up in tlieir hearts, and awaited an opportunity for

revenge.

Time passed, spring opened, and the season for catchincr
salmon came. The regulation between the two tribes was
this: each took its turn annually for the first and best part
of the fishery; one year the Micmacs went first to the
fishing-ground, which was at a considerable distance up the
river; the next year the Kwedeches went up first. This
year it was the Micmacs' turn. About fifty of the younger
men went up with their canoes, being several days reaching
the place. They had not been there long before the Kwedech
chief's son, who had been brooding over the wrong done by
the Alicmac boys in murdering two of his tribe, planned and
executed a scheme of retaliation and vengeance. Without
the knowledge of the chief, iiis father, and the old men of the
tribe, he collected a company of warriors, and marched up by
land to surprise and cut off the whole party of Micmacs.
Reaching the place, they lay hid, waiting for the darkness
of night to shroud their diabolical scheme.

The Micmacs were out spearing salmon by torchlight;
after they came ashore, they kindled fires and began roasting
fish for their suppers. The salmon were split, and placed
head downward on a split stick, small sticks being placed
across on each side, between the fish and the split stick that
held it; then the gridiron was stuck into the ground near the
fire, and when one side was done, the fish was turned by sim-
ply turning around the instrument that held it.^ While the
cooking process was proceeding, the men, all unconscious of
the storm that was about to burst upon them, were laucrhincr
talking, and joking. The Kwedeches crept up in the'dark-
ness, the crackling of the fires and the noise of the merry

1 They call this mode of roasting fish AV^.^rfA/.i? . to cook meat in the same
way IS called scgobastt.

i
ft..

....

'■:, fi

' !!•

PqjA.MiUH'lU-jmi I

202

M/CMAC INDIAN LEGENDS.

multitude helping them to approach unheard ; a shower of
well-aimed arrows laid all the Micmacs in the dust. One
old man was wounded, but not killed. He was a powerful
poivzvow ; but the attack was so sudden and unexpected that
he had no time to summon up his magical powers; otherwise
he would not have been hurt. He was struck in the side,
but the wound was not mortal. He made a rush for the
river, and plunged in. Just at that place there was a deep
hole in the curve of the river ; at the bottom of this hole
there were some large rocks, from under which the sand had
been swept away by the current, leaving a passage far beneath
the shelving rocks. Into this passage he crawled, and con-
cealed himself. Having his magic now fairly up, he could
remain under the water as long as he pleased; he knew he
would be hunted for, and so he was. He was seen to rush
towards the river and plunge in ; and the canoes were imme-
diately manned, the torches lighted, and the river everywhere
searched. They discovered him at last, but they could not
get at him with their spears. They watched him all night,
and the next day; after all, he managed to evade them, and
passed far down the river.

Somewhere below, a spring gushed out of the rock ; and
to this place the exhausted man crawled, and lay down for
some time, so as to let the water flow over his wound.

In the mean time a man and his wife, who started for the
fishing-ground some days after the others, and were now
poling their canoe slowly up the stream, reached the place
where the spring was. The wife proposed to go ashore for
some cool, fresh water. On approaching the place, they saw
something red where the fountain gushed up, and on coming
nearer saw something singular, — it might be a log, it might
be a man ; but it was evidently something unusual. Soon
they saw that it was a human body, and supposed it was a
corpse. The red Icggins and the other garments were recog-
nized by the woman as belonging to one of her uncles.
^ Nktihimooksis na ! (" It is my uncle ! ") she exclaimed.

^**S**H

'"■ """""

SBBS

iy.4A' BETIVEEN MICMACS AND KIVEDECJIES.

203

They approached cautiously, being terrified at the sight
of a dead body; they soon learned, however, that he was
not dead, but wounded, and faint from the loss of blood,
and weak with hunger. He said to them, Tdsdinc'ck' (" You
sec the whole of us "), and related to them the particulars
of the attack and slaughter.

They take him into their canoe, bind up his wounds, and
care for him, and immediately return to the village and
report the distressing news. In a few days this man's
wound is so far healed that he can go over to the village
of the Kwedeches, and make report to the chief. He sliows
his wound, and gives tlie names of the perpetrators of the
foul deed ; while they were watching him in the water, he
was looking at them in return, and is thus enabled to
testify to their identity. He throws all the blame upon the
young chief, the leader of the murderous band. They had
hoped to kill all, so that no one would be left to tell the tale ;
as no one, in that case, would know who had done it. In
this they are disappointed and defeated.

A demand is now made upon the whole village, — not,
however, to punish or deliver up the individuals who had
committed the deed ; the whole tribe is made responsible,
and they must retire from the place or try the fortunes of
war. Three days arc given them, and they are told that
unless they remove bag and baggage, they will rest there
forever: Na oola' tH tulckcs piikftintkscdoksup ("Here you
will end your days").

As the Micmacs are altogether the stronger in numbers,
the others conclude to remove, and immediately begin
their preparations; all is ready on the third day, and the
parties begin their sorrowful retreat. The young Kwedech
chief is severely reprimanded by his father, as the author of
all their troubles.

Before they leave, the chief of the Micmacs makes a fare-
well visit to the chief of the other tribe. " We will continue
to be friends," he says. " You will once in a while think

If svA.ri^iifmf!

.i-«f»«-Hl'^J''»'.»,JI!^'.ll,,'-!,'.P

204

M/CMAC INDIAN LEGENDS.

r)f the place you liave left ; and when tlicre comes over me a
lonely luiiying to see }'our face again, I will make )'ou a visit;
and when you wish it, you can come down and see us." ^
The whole village now depart, and go up by easy stages to
Canada, travelling onward till winter, though with long inter-
vals of rest. They halt for the winter on the borders of a
large lake.

Some time in the winter, when the rivers and lakes were
thoroughly frozen over, the Micmac poiuivoiv who had been
wounded in the fatal affray at the fishing-grounds, having
been thoroughly healed of his wounds, proposed to the
young men of his tribe that they should pay a visit to their
departed friends. All were eager for the adventure; but he
limited the number, selected his men, and started off on the
expedition. They followed the trail of the others, which was
marked by the deserted camps on the road, and knew well
when they were nearly up to them. They reached the lake
on the farther shores of which, and beyond an intervening
mountain, the Kwedechcs were encamped. To the top of
that high lookout the young Kwedech chief was in the habit
of making daily excursions, that he might look far over the
lake, to sec whether any danger was approaching under the
disguise of a visit of friendship from the outraged nation
they had left behind.

A little before nightfall, the Micmac leader sends four
subordinate chiefs, masters of the magical art, down upon
the lake to explore ; they walk out upon the ice one after
another, and then return to camp. It so happens that just
then the young Kwedech chief is at his post on the moun-
tain, looking out over the landscape to the rastward; and
on returning to his lodge he reports having seen four zvJiite
bears walking out one after the other upon the ice, looking
around, and then returning. These four scouts, on the other

1 Friend Louis explained this to me as conveying a warlike threat, though
couched in such words of kindness. Compare Psalm Iv. 21 ; also 2 Kings xiv.
8, for something similar.

■ pt ,

W'///? nr.TlVEE.V MICMACS AND KlVEDECni'.S.

?o5

hand, relate what they saw; they saw an abooksri^nn (l)'nx)
on the opposite side of the hike, on the top of the hill,
looking round, and then, turning about, gliding quietly back
down on the other side of the hill.

The report of each party is understood, and measures are
taken accordingly. The Kwedech chief says to his rash son,
"To-morrow you will be paid for your foil)'. You sec now
what you have done for us ; \vc shall be attacked and
destroyed." The young man is not going to be alarmed ;
he blusters, and boasts of wliat he can and will do. The
Micmac leader informs his friends that they have seen the
author of the mischief, — that the lyn.\ which went slinking
over the hills was he. " To-morrow," says the chief, " we
meet."

And so they do meet, — at first apparently in the most
friendly manner, taking each other by the hand, and mutually
inquiring the news, asking after each other's welfare, and hav-
ing a feast together. After a while the Micmac proposes that
the young men shall go out upon the ice and play. To this
proposal the Kwedech chief cordially consents. The j'oung
men begin operations, dancing the ' iiskozvokiin (war-dance),
shouting and stamping, and making the thick ice rise and
fall like the waves of the sea in a storm. It becomes in a
short time pretty rough play; they seize each other and
wrestle, and the victor stabs his victim to the heart. The
Micmacs soon carry the day, having killed or disabled all
the warriors of the party.

The most horrible part of the tale is the beginning of the
fight. The Micmac leader of the party was quietly seated
in the old Kwedech chief's wigwam ; the son of the latter
was sitting there also, and a young girl, the sister of tb.c
young man, was sitting on the side where the Micmac
sat. The IMicmac made a spring upon the poor girl, and
plunging his knife into her bosom, killed her instantly, and
ripped her open; filling his hands with her warm heart's
blood, he drank it, and then, again filling his hands, rushed

taSm

206

M/CA/AC LVn/A.V I.EGEXnS.

* >

. (

!'T

;! foi

over to the brother, offering him a draught, as a challenge to
single combat ; this the brother accepted. Intoxicated and
maddened by the horrid potion, these two began the fray ;
seizing their hatchets, they rushed out, uttering unearthly
yells, and attacked each other with might and main. The
poor Kwedech, notwithstanding all his previous vain-glorious
boasting, was soon overpowered and killed.

This was the signal for a general viclcc. Far and wide
over the lake resounded their yells. They used neither
bows nor hatchets nor spears ; strength of muscle, agility,
and the scalping-knife did the work of death. The Micmacs
were victorious ; they lost but few men in the battle. They
laid no further hand on the women, children, or old men ;
they took no prisoners, but bade them adieu, — telling them
that when they felt disposed to make the Micmacs a visit
in return, they might come on. They then returned to their
own place.

"I TT.T ""»"',;«':

kwUdIcii war renewed.

201

XXVII.

KWHDKCII WAR RENEWED.

THE SECOND INCIDENT IN THE KVVEDECH WAR.

Aini-IR the lapse of thirty or forty years, when the chil-
dren of the Kwcdeches had grown into men and
warriors, an attempt was made by them to avenge the
death of their comrades. A descent was made upon the
Micmacs in the winter; but the attempt was defeated, and
the Kwedeches were beaten.

It occurred in the following manner: An old man of the
Micmacs, together with his wife, his two sons, and their
wives, had gone some distance up the Rcstigouchc to spend
the autumn and winter. The old man was a mighty magi-
cian, and an able hunter and warrior; he foresaw the attack,
and fortified himself accordingly, but said nothing of the
matter to his partners. They built one lodge for all; and
he directed them to make it strong, as there would probably
be a hard pressure of snow upon it during the winter. This
was the reason he gave the boys; the one that influenced
him was that an attempt would be made to crush it down
over their heads by parties without, who would come down
upon them before the snow was gone. The wigwam was
accordingly built with stout poles and crossbars, and all
lashed firmly together.

The young men spent the time during the fall and winter
in bringing in meat and skins. Toward spring the father
was watching, by his magic skill, the progress of events ; he
kept smoking all the time the magic pipe, made with a very
large wooden bowl, boooin-zvadcg-gl^t' (divining), and taking no

5':

I;!

1 t':'!

^ i!

'f.

2o8

MICMAC INDIAN LEGENDS.

notice of what was passing near him. He was thus enabled
to ascertain the number of men who were on the march, the
progress they were making, and the day when they would
arrive. So one day, rousing himself, he directed the women
to cook a hu'ge quantity of provisions, as they would have
company the next day ; this was accordingly done.

Meanwhile the war-party had reached the hunting-grounds
and seen the snow-shoe tracks. They then proceeded cau-
tiously, waited until night set in, when they came up to tho
solitary wigwam. " There is," said their leader, " but a
single lodge here; let us just climb upon it and crush it
right down, and kill them all at once." Several men accord-
ingly ascended the sides of the wigwam; but they found it
was a more difficult undertaking than they had anticipated.
They were startled by the voice of an old man calling out to
them, and saying very composedl}', " What are you about
up there? Come down; the door is down here, — it isn't
up there." Whereupon down they came ; the chief and his
captains entered, and found a quantity of provisions all ready
fcr them. The men built fires out-of-doors, and after they
all had partaken of the hospitality of the quondam friend,
stretched themselves down to rest.

The next morning breakfast was prepared for them, and
they partook of it. But now the fighting had to be done ;
no advantage, however, was to be taken of him who had fur-
nished bed and board to strangers. The Kwedech chief
bade his host come out and try the fortune of open, fair
fight. "But no," said the old Micmac, " the boys may go ;
I shall remain here." So, arming themselves, the two young
men went out, and the fight began; their father remained
within, but helped them much by his supernatural powers.
The boys caused many of the foe to fall, but after a while
one of them rushed into the lodge wounded. The cure WuS
summary and singular; his mother seized him by the 'cue/'
and severed it from his head. He was now all right again,
and rushed back to the fight. Soon the other entered

KWEDECH WAR RENEWED.

209

wounded, and was treated in the same way. Fresh for the
fight, but minus the scalp-lock, he was able to kill a good
many more before he fell; but fall he did, as well as his
brother, after a while. The old man then took their place,
but not until he had taken precautions that the women should
not fall alive into the enemies' hands; first he struck them all
down, and then, uttering the terrible war-whoop, he lushed
into the fight. Many a warrior fell by his hand that da}',
but he escaped without a scratch, lioth parties grew tired,
and paused, by mutual consent, for rest and refreshment.
Each party sat apart, according to custom on such occasions,
and smoked, after they had eaten their dinners. While sit-
ting there, a youth of the other party aimed an arrow at the
old IVIicmac, and wounded him slightly in the leg. When
the Kwcdech and his party were ready, they gave the
word for a fresh attack. But the Micmac said, " No, I am
wounded ; I yield, — you can take me prisoner." So they
took him and began to tie him. "Oh," said he, "you
needn't do that; I shall not try to run away." So they
trusted him, and let him have his liberty. But so many of
their warriors had fallen that their expedition had to be
abandoned ; and they returned home, taking their prisoner
with them.

After they reach their home, they prepare in due time
to dispose of their prisoner, according to custom. He is
tied, and exposed to all kinds of insults, abuse, and torture,
while his foes feast, dance, and sing around him, enjoying
his bravery and his composure. Among other species of
torture, they twitch off his finger-nails, and use the fingers
to push down the fire in their pipes; but they cannot extort
a groan from their sturdy prisoner. So passes the first day
of the trial. Tlicy are baffled.

After a few days they have another feast, and the prisoner
is again brought out and tied. Warrior after warrior
engages in the exciting war-dance, works himself up into
a furor, and then rushes upon the prisoner and strikes

^':?*:>,y,^^:(j*^ii»%^»^>«.t ■•< -»v. ..^ . ;. ... .

^.tar„^!^,^•'^-fp^^■:J-l.■srtr.^^>^■^.-.-^»,■.^.■py , .-^■■^^ ^

210

MIC MAC INDIAN LEGENDS.

i-\

\ WW

him on the head with all his might; but the tomahawk
bounds off impotent, as though struck upon a rock of
granite.!

They make one more attempt. Another festival is sum-
moned ; and after the due preliminaries of feasting and
dancing are over, the prisoner is bound hand and foot to a
tree. Armfuls of dry wood and brush arc gathered, and
piled around him ; the torch is applied, and the blaze and
smoke mount upward to the skies. Suddenly there comes a
tremendous crash of thunder right overhead ; and a deluging
shower of rain pours down, extinguishes the fire, and drives
the whole party into the wigwams. The prisoner now disen-
gag-^s himself, and is occupied in attempting to keep the fires
burning. Soon the others come out and find him at his
woris "Come and help me," says he. "What made you
all rin away? I could not keep the fires agoing all alone
during such a shower."

They now have to own themselves beaten. " We can-
not kill him," says the chief; " he is a mighty wizard, a
great fozvivotv. Let us adopt him, give him a wife, and
appoint him to some office in the tribe." So they select
a beautiful woman and place her by his side, and endeavor
to persuade him to become a chief among them. But he
refuses all their overtures. " You have deprived me of my
wife," says he, " and I don't want another; nor do I wish to
be raised to any post of honor in your tribe. I am going
home."

They decide to let him have his own way, and fit him out
for his journey. It is spring; the rivers and lakes arc free
from ice, and he can return by water. So they furnish him
with a canoe, and a good supply of all necessary articles,
and he bids them adieu. Down he goes with the stream;
and they hear him singing all night, and all the following

1 Among other modes of torture, they covered his head with a heated kettle.
lie kept the kettle over him without winciuc;, and remained quiet until it was
cool I they removed it, and lo ! he was not injured.

KWEDECH WAR RENEWED.

211

nights, for seven in succession.^ On the seventh night,
before he readies his home, tlie inhabitants of the village
hear the sounds of song in the distance, and wonder what it
means. The next night it is nearer, and comes nearer and
nearer every night. The necromancers are consulted ; they
rouse up their magical powers, and finally one of tlicir num-
ber divines correctly. He understands all, and says, " Our
friend still lives, and is coming back home." They had been
at the place where the battle was fought, had found the dead
bodies of the three women and the two Micmacs, with the
proof of the way in which they had piled the ground with
Kwedech slain ; they had concluded that the father had
been taken prisoner and put to death. They are over-
whelmed with joy at his return, — for he arrives on the
seventh night after they first heard him sing. They gather
around, and rejoice over the report he was able to render
of what he had seen and said and done.

' Note the mystic number seven. This is a potent numlier with the Indians.
They have a mighty medicine composed of seven different barks, herbs, or roots
compounded ; and a most mighty medicine compounded of seven such com-
pounds. So I am credibly informed.

vrj^.

s-!Ww*:H"'^

II;:

if- :. '

I-

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I ■;

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(fill

212

MI CM AC INDIAN LEGENDS.

XXVIII.

THE CONCLUSION OF THE MOHAWK WAR.

[I CANNOT learn how long the ]\Ioha\vk war lasted. I
have already obtained several of the intervening incidents.
The winding up of the war, as well as the incidents related in
the preceding story, was related to mc to-day by my friend
Louis Benjamin Brooks, Sept. 3, 1869.]

ESIDING at Lustegoochecch — now called Mirimachi
in English — was a powerful chief named Mejciribega-
dasich, or Tied-in-a-hard-knot. He was not only a great
warrior, but also a mighty fozvivoiv, and could divine with
great correctness. He had on one occasion been silent,
thoughtful, and ill-tempered for some time ; when, one da\',
springing hastily up, he called upon one of his captains, who
happened to be his own brother-in-law, to gird on his armor
immediately and follow him; at the same time he dashed
out of the wigwam, and ran down towards the shore. The
other obeyed, supposing that something was the matter,
but had hardly time even to imagine what it could be. As
soon as he could get himself ready, he followed the chief to
the shore, and found that he had already launched the canoe,
into which the other leaped, and struck off across the cove
to a high sand-bank, that extended along between the cove
where they were and the open sea beyond.^

The old chief sat in the prow and pulled for dear life,
while his comrade sat in the stern and steered. Reaching

1 Tabasintak is the place pointed out on the map by lien lircjoks as the iden-
tical spot. He has been there, and seen the rock on wiiich traditidii savs the
Kwedech's head was smashed; it lies about in the centre of the sandbar that
stretches along in front of the mouth of the river, outside of the lagoon.

THE CONCLUSION OF THE MOHAWK WAR.

213

the shore, the chief leaped out and directed the other to wait
while he ascended the bank to reconnoitre. He crept up to
the top of the bank, keeping close to the ground, and con-
cealing himself, as though looking for ducks (teals). What
should he see there but a party of Kwed(?chcs, to the number
of about fifty, moving stealthily along in their canoes, — some
containing three warriors, some four, and some five ! Their
leader, named Wohooweh, had two canoes lashed side by side,
with a deck laid over the two, on which, near the prow, he
was standing holding up a flag, and carefully looking around
in all directions, ns though expecting to see the enemy. The
Micmac chief, exerting all his magical powers and his more
natural sagacity, concealed himself, and moved down to the
shore in advance of the fleet, where he awaited their approach.
Old Wohooweh never noticed him until he was hailed: 'Nsees,
tame a! ecu ? Cogooiva kzvelamnn ? (" My brother, where are
you going, and what arc you looking for?") The chief
gave a start, confounded and ashamed that he should have
overlooked, from his exalted position, a man so near him,
and immediately turned in to the shore and landed. They
greeted each other in a friendly way, and the Kwcdech ex-
plained the object of his expedition. " Do you know," says
he to the Micmac, " of a celebrated chief about here named
Mejelabcgadasich (Tied-in-a-hard-knot)?" " No, I do not,"
answers the other; " I have heard tell of him, however; he
resides a long distance farther along this extended point."
"Well," rrplies the other, "I am looking for him, and I mean
nyemoosiktnm (to pick thoroughly this whole bone ; that is,
I mean to destroy every man, woman, and child in the whole
region)."

The IVIicmac chief says : " This is my place of residence,
and I have a few men under me who would be glad of an
opportunity of meeting you and your men. Say the word,
and I will call them over." To this proposal the Kwcdech
agrees ; and so Ticd-in-a-hard-knot, calling to his captain on
the other side of the sand-hill, directs him to summon half

214

"JICMAC INDIAN LEGENDS.

WW'

t. ■'

the warriors (he had about three hundred there), and to
leave the other half to guard the viUage, as there might
possibly be a party coming down upon them by land. This
is done ; and the two parties, drawn up in battle array, stand
in close proximity, facing each other and waiting tlie signal
to begin. The two chiefs must meet in single combat first;
the armies are too near together for the use of bows and
arrows, — the tomahawk and the knife must do the work.
The chiefs begin, and Victory for a long time holds the
scales in even balance. So rapid are their movements in
defence and attack, that sometimes they can scarcely be
seen. Finally Victory declares for the Micmac; seizing his
foe by the scalp-lock, he drags him to a stone that is near,
lays his head upon it, and with one blow of his hatchet,
crushes his skull. The report is like a clap of thunder, —
loud as a cannon ; it is heard at the village. One old man,
bowed down with age, unable to leave his wigwam, and
almost deaf, as well as blind, hears the joyful sound; and
new life and vigor bound through his veins. He straight-
ens himself up and laughs, exclaiming: "There goes the
head of a rnvghiy pOKJWozu!" He had been one himself.

Tied-in-a-hard-knot is now completely exhausted ; he
rushes to the water, and plunges in to cool and rest himself.
Meanwhile the lines close in, and the fight becomes general.
The invading party is disheartened at the loss of the chief,
and the others are proportionably elated. The air resounds
with the yells of the warriors, and the clashing of their deadly
weapons. The Micmacs win the day. The next in com-
mand of the Kwedech army, who has assumed the direction
on the fall of VVohooweh, calls for quarter. He " strikes his
colors," and submits. 'Id bcdk ! ("It is enough!") he
shouts. " It was his business," — referring to the fallen
chief, — "not ours; let us quit, and make peace." To this
the others agree. The chief now in command states that
he knew Tied-in-a- hard-knot when he first saw him ; that
he had encountered him before, and was one of a very

miaMausassassusaasaassssseaa

mSBSSXmaaiiSmimimUism^am

THE COiVCLUSION OF THE MOHAWK WAR.

215

small party that had escaped destruction at his hands;
but that he had not dared to tell old Wohoovveh so, as it
would have endangered his life to intimate to his chief that
his magic was defective, — that he was unable to distinguish
at sight so renowned a warrior as Ticd-in-a-hard-knot was,
and that the experience of a subordinate was superior to
the intuition of a chief and a powivoiv.

The two parties now made peace for their two nations, and
settled it upon so firm a basis that it has never since been
broken.

[The place of the battle is well known; my informant
has seen it. The stone upon which VVohooweh met his fate
is still pointed out. It is of a singular form, — hollow on the
top, like a dish ; and from this stone, and the circumstance
related, the place has ever since borne the name Batkweda-
gunuchk', which no one English word can easily translate.
It indicates very poetically that on this rock a fellow's head
was split ; an anvil comes nearest to it. My informant has
not seen the rock since he was a small boy ; but the form,
and the associations connected with it are indelibly fixed
upon his memory.]

<'"^*l

f 1 ■ ■*!

2l6

MICMAC INDIAN LEGENDS.

■|1 I;

XXIX.

THE THIRD INCIDENT OF THE KWEDECH WAR.

THE MICMACS RETALIATE.

ABOUT a year after the return of the captive (as related
in Legend XXVII.), he went to the chief and informed
him that he was filled with a great longing to visit his friends
who had treated him so kindly during his captivity among
them; under this ironical and parabolical phrase was couched
a request to be allowed to lead a band of warriors. The
council was immediately summoned, and the modest request
of their friend was stated and debated. " Our comrade,"
said the chief, " hankers for a visit to his friends." They
decided to gratify him. " How many men do you wish to
accompany you? " they asked. " About thirty or forty," he
answered. These were soon forthcoming, and were equipped
for the expedition. They took their canoes, and moved on
at leisure, — going round by the main sea, and entering
the St. Lawrence, and thus proceeding up into Canada; the
Micmacs in former days were wont to ascend far up to the
head of the Mississippi, the big river. The party stopped
occasionally on their way, to supply themselves with food by
hunting. As they approached the enemy's country, they
moved cautiously, and encamped for the last night on a high
hill that overlooked the Kwcdcch village, which was located
on an intervale just round a sudden curve in the river.
There they landed, hauled up their canoes, and hid them in
the bushes. From the top of this high hill, they could see
and hear what was going on in the village. They ascertained
that the triumphant return of a war-party was being cele-

'?sB?-?5ffr»^

JMMP

THE THIRD INCIDENT OF THE KWKDllCH WAR. 21/

brated. The whole village was astir ; fires were blazing, loiul
shouts were being raised, dancing was going forward, and
feasting. One very important part of the ceremony on such
occasions was for an old woman, with a staff in one hand and
a bundle of fresh scalp-locks — the trophies just brought
from the battle-field — in the other, to dance and sing in the
presence of the assembled warriors and their friends. The
Micmac chief saw what was going on, and heard the old
woman's extemporized addresses to the scalp-locks ' as she
sang. Me ascertained that they had been snatched from the
heads of his brethren, members of his own tribe. This
awoke a storm of wrath in his bosom, and an uncontrollable
thirst for vengeance. Ordering his men to remain where
they wcie, he drew his knife, and rushed upon the unsus-
pecting and unarmed party. Emerging suddenly from the
surrounding darkness, he darted like a tiger upon the old
woman who was dancing the scalp-lock triumph ; with one
jerk he threw her backward to the ground, plunged his
knife into her bosom, and laid it open; then, seizing the
scalp-locks, he crammed them into her breast, — thus giving
his friends honorable burial, according to their ideas, — and
then shouted, " There 's a Micmac for you ! " Before the
p. .-ty had time to recover themselves, he darted awa)% and
was lost in the darkness.

This startling event brought the ceremonies of the evening
to an abrupt termination. There was no attempt at pursuit,
but all hands immediately armed and kept watch. Several
of the company recognized the man, and told their compan-
ions who he was ; it w; naturally inferred that he was not
alone. As soon as morning dawned, the warriors were mus-
tered and drawn up in battle array. The Micmacs from the
hill watched their movements, made descent upon them, and

* These songs were usually a description of the battle, describing the bravery
of the warriors and the desperation of the enemy, — how the former rushed upon
the latter and cut them down ; how terrified and cowardly the latter were ; how
they ran, and how they screamed and begged, like women and children.

; ,*%^B»^!lfi!*V*JWf'*t«P"--'''- ■

218

MICMAC hXDIAiX LEGENDS.

?!|l

■•(•ii-

f'f'

; r a! !

i ,2!

the battle began. The Micniacs gained the day. Quarter
was neither given nor craved. The whole village was de-
stroyed, with the exception of three or four warriors ; these
were marked on their naked legs (in summer they wore
no clothing, in those days, except on their feet and around
their loins) by cutting the skin in several stripes up and
down the leg, and peeling the skin down about half-way
from the knee to the ankle, and letting it hang. They
were let go without any further cruelties, and told to go on
to the next village and tell their friends what beautiful leggins
had been made for them. Satisfied with the results, the
Micmacs, sadly diminished in number, returned home.

't "•■'\

.rf""',"r,

KWEDECll SPIES.

219

5C
I'C

111
id

■y

XXX.

KWEDECir SPIES.

INCIDENTS OF THE KWEUECII WAR. — NARRATIVE COXTIX-
UEI). — THE LAND OK THE MICMACS SPIED OUT. — AN
ATTACK. — THE CAPTIVES RETAKEN.

EARLY in the summer, about twelve of the K\vt:dech
men were deputed as spies,' to perambulate the coun-
try of the Micmacs, and learn the nature and extent of their
country, the number of their towns, and the state of things
generally among them. They passed down through New
Brunswick, went on to Cape Breton, followed the southern
shore round to Yarmouth, and returned late in the autumn,
taking a careful survey, and marking down the number of
villages and wigwams, the lay and bearings of the country,
and everything else that interested them.

Just before leaving the country in the fall, they came to a
place where about thirty of the young men had gone back
from the village into the woods, where they were intending
to pass the autumn and winter, and there built a large, strong
wigwam. They waited until night before completing their
survey of the premises; creeping up in the darkness, they
carefully examined everything without being seen.

1 Ozinviskook' is the Micmac name for a spy. If a spy is caught, he is dealt
with in a very summary manner. The Indians of these Provinces are under the
impression that spies still come down occasionally from Canad.i, to see the
" nakedness of the land." My friend Louis informs me that on Cape Breton,
a few years ago, a party was discovered, supposed to be spies, and that one of
them was shot. Report says also that Jo Cope, Captain Hardy's friend, once
shot a spy. The Indians feci no compunction in doing so, even in time of
peace.

■/i'!

'''*'

2 20 MICMAC INDIAN LEGENDS.

A short distance farther up, they discovered where two
young nicn, with tlicir wives, were encamped, cvidi ntly in-
tending to spend the hunting-season there. They did not
attack them, but marked the place where they were. They
then proceeded home and made tlieir report.

.Some time in the ensuing winter a war-party was fitted out
to go down and destroy these luintcrs. The rivers and hakes
were now froze'i, making the transit comparatively easy;
and in a short lime they came upon the wigwam where the
two men and women were. They found the men absent;
they had gone down towards the shore to see some old men,
women, and children who needed a supply of food. They
found the two women tliere, and took them prisoners ; they
also took possession of all that was in the wigwam, and then
compelled the women to act as guides to the place where
the thirt}' hunters were encamped. Those who had explored
the place the previous summer and fall were in the company,
but these two women were supposed to be better acquainted
with the region than they. The women led them on. The
hunters were all found; an attack was made after nightfall,
while they were unsuspecting and unarmed, and all were
killed. The Kwedcches threw all the dead bodies out, and
took up their quarters for the night in the ample, well-
furnished lodge.

They posted no guard ; ^ this was contrary to their custom,
and it cost them dear. The two hunters came home from
their excursion hungry and tired, and found no food, no
fire, and no women waiting for them ; all was dark, cold,
and empty. They soon divined the cause. The snow was
tramped into hardness by numerous feet; an army had been
there, and had taken all away.

After wasting a little time in useless grief and anger, they
resolved to follow the party. They took their trail, and on
approaching the large wigwam of their brethren, they heard

1 It was one of the most difficult things for the more civilized warriors to
teach their Indian allies, that a camp should not be left unguarded by sentries.

' i! 1

KWEDECn SPIES,

321

tho sound of voices; and on cautiously approaching in the
darkness, they learned who and what they were. It was a war-
party of Kwedeches, — no doubt the same that had carried
off the women.

Waiting until all sounds were hushed, they cautiously ap-
proached ; and one of them peeped throuj^h a hole in the
door-blanUet, and saw their numbers and their position. They
were lyin^ij round in the wigwam, asleep. The two women
had been directed to keep awake and tend the fires; one was
seated at one end of the long wigwam near the door, and the
other at the oi)posite end near the door. This intelligence
was communicated to the other man. The wife (jf the one
who had peeped in was next to that door, lie let her know
that he was there by pushing the end of his belt through the
hole ill the door-blanket; she saw it, and went out. They
then concerted their plans. The women were to wait until
the shout, " We are attacked ! " was raised outside. They
were then to throw water on the fires, rush out, and make
tracks towards the village as fast as their limbs would let
them ; the men having previously prepared for the worst by
stating that probably they would all be killed. " We must
die to-night," said the man who first showed himself to his
wife when she went out to see him.

As soon as the shout was raised, the warriors leaped to
their feet, and in the confusion, smoke, and steam raised by
the hissing brands, mistook their friends for foes ; and all
hands laying about them wildly and at random, made sad
havoc upon each other's bodies and lives. The wigwam
had been built so strong, and was so firmly fastened by
nature — the frost and the snow — as well as by art, that they
could not burst through its sides. Exit was only possible
by the doors ; but there were strong arms stationed there,
which brought down upon the head of the man who attempted
to go out, the death-dealing tomahawk ; and soon the door
was so piled and choked that egress became very difficult,
and destruction very easy.

22''

MICMAC INDIAN LEGENDS.

They were soon all killed,^ many having fallen by the
hands of their fellows; the two Micmacs were unscathed.
They carried out all the fur and meat that had been collected,
then gathered up the mangled corpses of their companions!
and piled them in upon the others ; then they collected a'
great supply of fuel, piled it in, on, and around the wigwam,
and set fire to it. They then returned to their v-illage,'
carrying the glad tidings, and sent up parties to bring
down the spoils.

!L s

•I \

THE RETURNED CAPTIVE.

223

XXXI.

THE RETURNED CArTIVE.

A PARTY OF SCOUTS SURPRISED.

A BOUT forty years ago a very old Indian died, whose
'^ ^ name was John Paul; he belonged to Xew Brunswick,
about Thcdiac (l'2sedeiik). His nickname ^ was Sabadis
Chubbune.^ This man was stolen by some Canadian
Indians and carried up into Canada, when a child ; there
he remained until lie grew up. He could speak Micmac,
English, French, and one or two Indian dialects. After
reaching years of manhood, he returned to !'is native place,
where he spent the remainder of his days. He had been
taken to a place about forty miles above Montreal, called
in English the Lake of the Two Mountains, and in Indian
Canaskadiige.

After a residence of a great many years in New Brunswick,
he was one day out hunting, when he heard strange voices
in the woods, and concluded that there were strangers there.
Creeping softly along, he discovered ascending smoke; and
on approaching still nearer, he saw several strange Indians,
whose dress indicated that they were not Micmacs. He had
his gun with him ; and concluding that he could at all events
lessen their number by one, shouKI they show fight, he
walked up towards the fire where they were preparing their
meal. As soon as the\' saw him, they all seized their bows

' The Iiuli;ins are great for nicknames, or sol)riqucts. I have apaiii and
again found that individuals whose real names were unknown to tiiem were
known by their nicknames.

2 Sabadis is the French Jean liaptiste. I am unable to understand John
Chiibbiine, which is usually given as its English equivalent.

I'- !

,'t| '■

224

MI CM AC INDIAN LEGENDS.

and arrows, as they had no guns, and stood on the defensive.
He spoke, telling them to put down their bows and arrows,
and asked who they were and what they were doing. He
spoke in Micmac, which they did not understand. " Can
you speak French? " he inquired in that language. They
replied that they could. He soon learned that he could
speak their tongue, that they came from the place where
he had been brought up, and that one of them was the son
of the chief with whom he had lived. When they learned
that he was acquainted with their language and country, and
knew their friends, they were very much pleased. The
young Sacumow seized his hand, and was overjoyed to see
him.

! ik.

DRhAM Of IVnjTE KOBE AND FLOATIXG /SLAND

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XXXII.

THE DREAM OF THE WHITi: ROBE AND THi:
FLOATIXG ISLAND.

[This account ot the coming of the white man. revealed to
a young woman in a dream, was related to me by Josiah
Jerenu-, Sept. 26, 1869.]

Y^/HEN there were no people in this country but
Indians, and before any others were known, a

young woman had a singular dream. She dreamed that
a small island came floating in towards the land, with tall
trees on it, and living beings, - among whom was a man
dressed in rabbit-skin garments. The next day she related
her dream, and sought for ap interpretation. It was the
custom in those days, when any one had a re.narkable
dream, to consult the wise men, and especially the magicians
and soothsayers.' These pondered over the girl's dream but
could make nothing of it. The next day an event occu'rred
that explained all. Getting up in the morning, what should
they .see but a singular little island, as they supposed, which
had drifted near to the land and become stationarv there '
There were trees on it, and branches to the trees, on which
a number of bears, as they supposed, were crawling about ■''
They all seized their bows, arrows, and spears, and rushed
down to the shore, intending to shoot the bears; what was
then- surprise to find that these supposed bears were men
and that some of them were lowering down into the water

1 Liko the Egyptians, Chaldees, and other nations

l^ipiyppillipiliJIiiiiiJIJ^^ ,

ii^i

'1 1

226

M/CMAC INDIAN LEGENDS.

a very singularly constructed canoe, into which sever:il of
them jumped and paddled ashore. Among them was a man
dressed in white, — a priest with his white stole on, — who
came towards them making signs of friendship, raising his
hand towards heaven, and addressing them in an earnest
manner, but in a language wliich they could not under-
stand.

The girl was now questioned respecting her dream. Was it
such an island as this that she had scon? Was this the man.-*
She affirmed that they were indeed the same. Some of them,
especially the necromancers, were displeased; they did not
like it that the coming of these foreigners should have been
intimated to this young girl, and not to them. Had an
enemy of the Indian tribes with whom they were at war
been about to make a descent upon them, they could have
foreseen and foretold it by the power of their magic ; but
of the coming of this teacher of a new religion they could
know nothing.

The new teacher was gradually received into favor, though
the magicians opposed him. The people received his instruc-
tions, and submitted to the rites of baptism ; the priest learned
their tongue, and gave them the Prayer Book written in what
they call abo'tiilooccgasik' (ornamental mark-writing) ; a mark
standing for a word, and rendering it so difficult to learn that
it may be said to be impossible.

[This was manifestly done to keep the Indians in ignorance.
Had their language been reduced to writing in the ordi-
nary way, the Indians would have learned the use of writing
and reading, and would have advanced in knowledge so as
to be able to cope svith their more enlightened invaders ;
and it would have been a more difficult matter for the
latter to cheat them out of their lands and other rightful
possessions.

Such was Josiah's story. The priests who gave them this
pictorial writing, whatever their motives may have been,

DREAM OF WHITE ROBE AND FLOATING ISLAND. 22/

certainly perpetrated one of the grossest possible literary
blunders. It is bad enough for the Chinese, whose language
is said to be monosyllabic and unchanged by grammatical
inflection; but Micmac is polysyllabic, endless in its com-
pounds and grammatical changes, and utterly incapable of
being represented by signs.]

;i 'i

IP'

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228

MIC.MAC IAD J AN LEGENDS.

XXXIII.

GLOOSCAP'S DEPARTURE FROM THE LAND OF

THE MICMACS.

GLOOSCAP resided near the salt water, on a high bank,
against which the deep sea dashed. When about to
go away and leave the Indians, he called up a whale to carry
him off on his back. The words and the chanting tone of
voice he used are still handed down. The words were these,
repeated thrice: Ncviajecchk nuinecdhii ("Let the small fish
look at me"). A huge whale answvted the call, and laid him-
self alongside the bluff. Glooscap saw him, but informed him
that he was too small for his purpose. " I want one," said
he, " so large that he will touch the deep bottom here." So
the small fellow withdrew; and soon another, of the desired
proportions, presented himself, and called, Noojccch, cogoozvd
pawotuinnn ? (" Little grandson, what is your wish ? ")
Nlkskamich (" Grandfather, I wish you to take me across
the water, to a distant land in the west "). " Get on my
back, then," said the whale. So Glooscap descended, and
sat upon the back of the huge monster, which then moved
off with his burden. After proceeding some hours at a rapid
rate, the whale inquired: " My grandson, does not the bow-
string appear above the horizon?" — referring to the first
sight of land, extending along and rising, perhaps, in the
middle, like a bent bow. Mogivdd ("No"), was the answer.
Whereupon the whale put forth a little extra exertion, and
pushed rapidly on until he could sec the bottom, and the
small shells that lay scattered there; he then repeated the
question, inquiring if land was not yet in sight. Glooscap

ULOOSC.WS DEPARTURE FROM LAiYD OF MICMACS. 229

assured him that it was not, althougli tliis was untrue, — for
they were rapidly nearing shore. " I see the shells on the
bottom," said the whale. " That is because we are passing
over a ledge of rocks," answered Glooscap, wishing to de-
ceive the whale, in order to drive him close to land, so that
he could easily reach the shore. The whale then dashed
furiously on, and ran his head up high and dry upon the
shore. Glooscap leaped off his back, and the whale answered
quietly, " You have done it for me." But Glooscap placed
his bow against the whale's huge carcass, and gently pushed
him off into deep water. ".My little grandson," said the
whale, " have n't you some piece of a broken pipe to give
me? " " I have," said Glooscap; and forthwith he filled one
with tobacco, lighted it, and placed it in the whale's mouth.
The whale puffed out volumes of smoke at intervals as he
swam off towards his distant home. Glooscap ascended a
high hill to watch him as he went; as far as he could see,
he saw the volumes of smoke rolling up at intervals into
the air. ':^he two were then separated, to meet no more.
Glooscap went on his way. The Micmacs expect his return
in due time, and look for the end of their oppressions and
troubles when he comes back.

[Related to me by Josiah Jeremy, Sept. 26, 1869.]

230

MICMAC INDIAN LEGENDS,

XXXIV.

THE INDIAN FANATIC.

ABOUT one hundred years ago, in the region of
Mirimichi, there lived an Indian whose name was
AbTstanaooch' (Marten), who became deranged on tlic sub-
ject of religion, and persuaded himself that he was God ;
he succeeded in deluding also an entire village of Indians
into the same fanaticism. He introduced new doctrines, new
forms of worship, and new customs. Dancing was intro-
duced into their worship; day was turned into night, and
night into day, as they slept in the daytime and had their
prayers and did their work in the night. This fanatic
succeeded in obtaining so much reverence for himself that
people would come in where he sat concealed from view
behind a curtain, and would reverently kiss his feet, which
were left exposed for that purpose.^

This state of things continued for some time; and such
was the power of Satan over these foolish people that their
food, after it was cooked, turned into charcoal.

After a while an uncle of the fanatic — a brother of his
mother — heard of his nephew's doings, and went to the vil-
lage to oppose him. He inquired in a loud, authoritative voice

1 One of his sons refused to obey his father, the pretended deity, neglected
worship altogctlicr, and indulged in unbridled iniquity. Me was often reproved,
rebukeil, and exhorted by the others, all to no purjiose. Finally his father was
informed of his son's misdeeds, — that he was becoming a very demon, and
would certainly soon be in hell. The old man said lie could tell whether tlieir
complaints and accusations were just or not ; so, taking a large book, he read
for a while, and then, closing it with great force, he shouted, " Let him be so ! "
This was rejieatcd three times, and the young man sat unharmed by his side.
Thereupon the father declared him to be belied, reproached his accusers, and
sent them away.

i'"^

THE rXDIAX FANATIC. 23 I

where his nephew was. " Iliish ! " said the people; "don't
speak so loud, — God is here." He answered, " I will speak
as loud as I please; he is not God, but the Devil. He h.is
given himself into the hands of the Devil, and you have all
done the same thing. You arc all deluded, crazy fuols, and
are going to eternal perdition." Rushing into the wigwam,
where the impostor was hid behind his screen, he seized the
curtain and tore it into shreds, and at the same time laid
lustily over the back and sides of the impostor with a heavy
bundle of rods, which he had taken care to provide for the
purpose. Having soundly thrashed him, he exhorted him to
repentance and to penance, — enforcing his exhortations with
commands and threats, and addressing himself at the same
time with energy to the guilty dupes o'" this fellow's imposture.
They were directed to send for a priest, and to humble them-
selves before God and him, to submit to his counsels and to
the penance he might impose, and to entreat his prayers in
their behalf, that they might be delivered from the power
of Satan and forgiven.

These exhortations, so earnestly urged, and enforced by
such mental and physical energy, had the desired effect. A
priest was called, penance was submitted to ; and all parties,
not excluding AbTstanaooch' himself, were reclaimed and
pardoned. This man's descendants were numerous, and are
still to be found. The story is well known among the
Indians.

[Related by Stephen Hood, Sept. 29, 1869. He affirms
that it is a fact.]

2^2

MICMAC li\l)lAi\ Ll.Gl.XDS.

XXXV.

W-

i)- '

\^\.

GLOOSCAP, KUIIKW, AND COOLPUJOT.

TIII'v tradition rcspcctinij Glooscap ' is tliat he came to
this country from tlie cast, — far across the c^rcat sea;
that he was a divine being, though in the form of a man.
Me was not far from any of the Indians (this is the identical
rcnderint^ of the Indian words used by my friend Steplien
in rehitiui^ the sketches of liis history here given). When
Glooscap went away, he went toward the west. There lie is
still tented; and two important personages are near him,
who are called Kuhkw and Coolpujdt, — of whom more
anon.

Glooscap was the friend and t-aclier of the Indians; all
the\- knew of the arts he taught thcnv lie taught them the
names of the constellations and stars ; he taught them how
to hunt and fish, and cure what they took; how to cultivate
the ground, as far as they were trained in husbandry. When
he first came, he brought a •woman with him, whom he ever
addressed as Noogumich' (Grandmother), — a very general
epithet for an old woman. She was not his wife, nor did he
ever have a wife. He was always sober, grave, and good;
all that the Indians knew of what was wise and good he
taught tlicm.

His canoe was a granite rock. On one occasion he put
to sea in this craft, and took a young woman with him as

' This rem.irkable personage figures in .ill tlicir atook-,i<Ski'tns Here is evi-
dently a clear tradition of God as the friend, companion, guide, instructor, and
helper of the human race ; it would suit the idea that the Indians arc the Lost
Tribes of Israel. This Divine l''riend leaving them on account of their dis-
obedience, and their longint; expectation of his return, looks marvellously like
the Jewish expectation of a Messiah, and of the reason given by the prophets
why God forsook them in former days.

(,7.(>os(\i/\ A77/A7/', i.v/) cooi.rrjor.

233

a pnsscn,c;cr. Slic proN-cd to be a bad <^\x\ ; and this was
inaiiifcstcd by the troubles tliat ensued. A storm arose, and
tlie waves daslu-d wildly over the canoe ; he accused her of
beiii^ the cause, through her evil deeds, and so he tieterniined
to rid himself of her. ]''or this purpose he stood in for the
land, leaped ashore, but would not allow her to follow;
puttiiiL;- his foot aj^ainsl the heavy craft, he pushed it oil" to
sea a;4aiu with the i(\\\ on it, tellinjr her to become whatever
she desired to be. .She was transformed into a lari;e, fer(j-
cious iish, called hy the Indians kiYi^oiiibr, said to have a
huge dorsal fin, — like the sail of a boat, it is so large and
high out of the water.

The Indians sometimes visit Glooscap at his present resi-
dence, so says tradition; this is in a beautiful land in the
west. I Ic taught them when he was with them that there
was such a place, and led them to look forward to a residence
there, and to call it their beautiful home in the far west, —
where, if good, they would go at death.

The journey to that fair region far away is long, difficult,
and dangerous; the way back is short and easy. Some
years ago, seven stout-hearted young men attempted the
journey, and succeeded. Before reaching the place, they
had to pass over a mountain, the ascent of which was up a
perpendicular bluff, and the descent on the other side was
still more difficult, for the top hung far over the base. The
fearful and unbelieving could not pass at all ; but the good
and confident could travel it with ease and safety, as though
it were a level path.

Having crossed the mountain, the road ran between tlic
heads of two huge serpents, which lay just opposite each
other; and they darted out their tongues, so as to destroy
whomsoever they hit. But the good and the firm of heart
could dart past between the strokes of their tongues, so as
to evade them. One more difficulty remained; it was a
wall, as of a thick, heavy cloud, that separated the present
world from that beautiful region beyond. This cloudy wall

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234

MICMAC IXDIAN LEGENDS.

rose and fell at intervals, and struck the ground with such
force that whatever was caught under it would be crushed
to atoms ; but the good could dart under when it rose, and
come out on the other side unscathed.

This our seven young heroes succeeded in doing.^ There
they found three wigwams, — one for Glooscap, one for
Coolpujot, and one for Kuhkw. These are all mighty
personages, but Glooscap is supreme ; the other two are
subordinates. Coolpujot h.is no bones. He cannot move
himself, but is rolled over each spring and fiill by Glooscap's
order, being turned with handspikes; hence the name
Coolpujot (rolled over by handspikes). In the autumn he is
turned towards the west, in the spring towards the cast ; and
this is a figure of speech, denoting the revolving seasons of
the year, — his mighty breath and looks, by which he can
sweep down whole armies and work wonders on a grand
scale, indicating the weather : frost, snow, ice, and sunshine.
(Such was Stephen's very satisfactory explanation.)

Kuhkw means Earthquake ; this mighty personage can
pass along under the surface of the ground, making all
things shake and tremble by his power.

All these seven visitors had requests to proffer, and each
received what he asked for ; though the gift did not always
correspond with the spirit of the request, it oftentimes agreed
with the letter. For instance, one of these seven visitors was
wonderfully enamoured of a fine country, and expressed a
desire to remain there, and to live long ; whereupon, at
Glooscap's direction, Earthquake took him and stood him
up, and he became a cedar-tree. When the wind blew
through its boughs, they were bent and broken with great
fracas, — making a thunder-storm that rolled far and wide
over the country, accompanied by strong winds, which scat-
tered the cedar-boughs and seeds in all directions, producing

' I strongly suspect that there is some mistake here, and that my informant
has confounded the traditions respecting the passage of souls to the happy abode
of the blest, with the journey of mortals to Glooscap's present residence.

■ UPMHIimiW

GLOOSCAP, h'UHKW, AND COOLPUJOT.

235

all the ccdar-grovcs that exist in New Brunswick, Nova
Scotia, and elsewhere.

The other men started, and reached home in a short time.

One of them had asked for a medicine that would be
effectual in curing disease. This he obtained ; but, neglect-
ing to follow implicitly the directions given, he lost it before
he reached home. It was carefully wrapped up in a piece of
paper, and he was charged not to undo the parcel until he
reached home. His curiosity got the better of his judgment ;
he could not see what difference it could make if he just
looked at his prize as he was going along. So he undid the
parcel, and presto ! the medicine slipped out on the ground,
spread and slid in all directions, covering up the face of the
earth, and vanishing from sight.^

On another occasion several young men went to see
Glooscap in his present abode. One of them went to obtain
the power of winning the heart of some fair one, which all his
unaided skill had failed hitherto to do; an hundred times he
had tried to get a wife, but the girls all shunned him. Many
of the party who started on this perilous expedition failed to
overcome the difficulties that lay in their way, and turned
back, baffled and defeated; but several of them succeeded.
They were all hospitably entertained; all presented their
requests, and were favorably heard. The man who sought
power to captivate some female heart was the last to proffer
his petition. Glooscap and his two subordinates conferred
together in a whisper, and then Earthquake informed him
that his ugly looks and still more ugly manners were the
chief hindrances to his success ; but they must try to help him.
So he was handed a small parcel, and directed not to open
it until he reached his own village; this he took, and they
all set off for home together. The night before they arrived,
he could restrain his curiosity no longer; he opened the
parcel, the foolish fellow! Out flew young women by the

1 Here would be a striking lesson respecting the ruinous effects of an undue
and unrestrained curiosity.

236

MI CM AC INDIAN LEGENDS.

scores and hundreds, covering the face of the earth, piling
themselves in towering heaps, and burying the poor fellow,
crushing him to the earth under the accumulating weight of
their bodies. His comrades had cautioned him against dis-
obeying the mandate, and h.id begged him not to undo the
parcel ; but he had not heeded the caution. They now
heard him calling for help, but he called in vain, they could
not help him ; and his cries became fainter and fainter,
and finally ceased altogether. Morning came at last. The
young women had all vanished, and the fragments of their
comrade were scattered over the ground ; he had been killed
and ground to atoms as the result of his unbridled curiosity
and disobedience.

In former daj-s, water covered the whole Annapolis and
Cornwallis valley. Glooscap cut out a passage at Cape
Split and at Annapolis Gut, and thus drained off the pond
and left the bottom dry ; long after this the valley became
dry land. Aylcsford bog was a vast lake ; in this lake there
was a bcavcr-house ; and hence the Indian name to this
day, — Cobectck 'the beaver's home). Out of this beaver-
house Glooscap drove a small beaver, and chased it down to
the Bras d'Or lake in Cape Breton, — pursuing it in a canoe
all the way. There it ran into another beaver-house, but was
killed ; and the house was turned into a high-peaked island ;
Glooscap feasted the Indians there. A few years ago a
heavy freshet tore up the earth in those regions, and laid
bare the huge bones of the beaver upon whose flesh
Glooscap and his guests had feasted, — monstrous thigh-
bones, the joints being as big as a man's head, and teeth
huge in proportion.

In cutting open a beaver-dam at Cape Chignecto, a small
portion of the earth floated away ; and Glooscap changed
it into a moose and set his dogs on it. The moose took
to the bay and made off ; whereupon Glooscap turned
him back into land, made him an island, — the Isle of
Holt, — and fixed him there. He changed the dogs into

HMIi

GLOOSCAP, KUIIKW, A.XD COOLrCjOT

237

rocks, which may be seen to this day, seated on their
haunches, with their tongues lolling out of their mouths;
the plain is called Ooteel (his dogs). Spenser's Island is
his kettle turned ver ; and the scraps he shovelled out when
trying out his oil still lie scattered around, but turned into
stone.

[Related to me Sept. 30, 1869, by Stephen Hood, a very
intelligent and reliable Indian.]

238

AIICMAC INDIAN LEGENDS.

XXXVI.

A WAR STORY.

SAVED BY A CHIP.

AMICMAC, with his wife and a female relative of hers,
went one autumn up the river, for the purpose of
hunting. The village to which they belonged was some
distance down the river. After a while the women were
seized with a feeling of terror, as though some evil were
at hand. When the man came in from hunting, they men-
tioned their impressions to him, and inquired if he had any
such feelings himself; he assured them that he had not, but
that he was quite sure he would have if any untoward event
were upon the point of happening. He laughed at their
fears, and so they said nothing more about them ; but the
uneasiness remained, — they could not divest themselves of
the idea that a band of warriors was coming down to murder
them.

One day not long after this, the two women were out
gathering firewood, when, becoming thirsty, they went down
to the river for a drink. They were surprised to see a quan-
tity of chips floating by. They picked up one, and took
it home ; evidently it had not come there without hands.
Some one must have been at work chopping above them ;
and so many chips could scarcely have fallen into the rive/
unless a bridge over it were being constructed.^

When the man came in, he was shown the chip. " You
laughed at our fears," said his wife, " but what do you say

1 UsookumgdkilH (a crossing-place), made by felling tall trees across ; and as
the trees were cut near the edge of the water, the chips would of course fall in,
float down, and thus bear the news of their approach.

wgmr»A^.titm ' tn-mxnmmmMt.-^i't-^tijMr

A IV.IK STOA'V.

539

now? What do you t!' ti of this?" — 'ossing the chip to him.
" We took it out of the river ; and there were many more like
it floating by." He took the chip in his hand, and examined
it. The evidence was clear that parties were chopping above
them, and that they could not be friends, as none of their
own tribe was above them ; it was evident, therefore, that
they must be enemies. The man immediately directed the
women to gather up their possessions and start for home, to
alarm the village. The canoe was launched ; no time was to
be lost, and they were soon, with all their effects, passing
rapidly down towards their home.

The Indian left a magic sentinel, however, behind. He
took his w'ijep'hie (pouch) made of a fox-skin, and doubled it
across a branch of a tree near the wigwam. This was his
teomiV, — his charm, his tutelar manitoo, — which had the
power to warn them if an enemy came there ; and sure
enough, about midnight, from the little island where they
were encamped, they heard the fox bark. This was suffi-
cient; they hastened forward and sounded the alarm. All
were immediately astir. The warriors armed themselves.
According to the Indian custom, they prepared to feed their
foes before the fight; they extemporized a large lodge
for that purpose, and cooked up a bountiful supply of
provisions.

It was not long before the war-party arrived ; they were
met in a friendly manner, and feasted preparatory to the
fight, — or, as the story goes, to the play.

After the eating was over, the chief of the Kwedeches rose
and commenced the exercises by dancing the war-dance and
singing a war-song. This was the song: —

" Ho-eganii ! hogei-eganii I
Ho-eganu,l hogei-eganu 1 "

The Micmacs answered this with a kind of defiant grunt:

" Heh, eh I heh, eh ! heh, eh ! "

After the Kwedech had danced and sung sufficiently, it was
the Micmac's turn. His words and tune were different ; but

I :

240

MICMAC IXDIAN LEGENDS.

\\ 1

I' '

in both cases no particular meaning can now be attached
to cither of them.

Th? Micniac words were : —

" Kwed allooktano' !
K\ved-41-look-tan-u I " >

The play now commences. The Kwedech chief rushes
upon the Micmac chief, and aims a deadly blow at his head
with a hatchet ; this is parried either by art or by magic, and
all engage in the fray. The Micmacs conquer. All their
enemies arc killed but two, and they are dismissed to carry
home the news ; they are carefully instructed relative to the
important part the two women had in the victory. " Tell
your people," says the chief, " that your warriors were all
defeated and destroyed by two women." The nature of
this consolation can be readily appreciated.

In due time vengeance is taken on the women ; a village
of the Micmacs is surprised by the Kwedcches during the
absence of the men, and all the women and children are put
to death. But this triumph is soon avenged. The fathers,
husbands, and brothers, returning to camp, see the mangled
bodies of the women and children, and are soon in full
pursuit of the retreating, spoil-encumbered foe ; they over-
take, attack, conquer, and kill them all.

[Related to me by Stephen Hood in Micmac, Sept. 30,
1869.]

1 The Indians are exceedingly careful of their songs. I have never heard
them sung and ex])1ained, to my recollection, before ; the friend who gave them
to me laid me under a ban not to expose him. Poor old Jo Cope, now dead,
who taught them to him some years ago, came near paying dearly for it.
KwidahoktooU is a verb, meaning " to sing this song " (infinitive, kwliialuok).

Kivldiilooktniu)
KwUdalook-tiiioo (on a level)
Kwldalookta no'
Kwidalooktan'
Kwidalooktdiio

(I must kill ! I must slaughter I I must slaughter ! I must kill I)
Kwiddlookttldlmk, singing and acting the trying tune and song.

THE MAN WHO SAVED HIMSELF AND WIIE. 24 1

XXXVII.

THE MAN WHO SAVED HIMSELF AND WIFE.

A WAR STORY.

A MAN and his wife lived alone in the woods near a lake,
but some distance from the village. It was a time
of war; and as depredations were continually made by the
enemy upon single families, they could not but be appre-
hensive of evil. The man, however, was very much attached
to his wife ; and he assured her from time to time that he
would never desert her, — no, not even to save his own
life.

One night they were startled by the approach of the
enemy, — a small company, of about twelve men ; and our
hero, on the first alarm, darted out of the wigwam and
fled. His wife ran after him. They were pursued, and
the woman was soon overtaken and captured. She called
aloud to her husband for help, and reminded him of his
promise never to desert her; he thereupon turned back and
rescued her. The way was so blocked up by the enemy,
that he had no means of escape except by rushing into the
water. She followed him ; and he, before getting beyond
his depth, turned around and kept the foe at bay, — his wife
standing behind him for shelter while he fought. From
thence he shot his arrows and used the tomahawk ; he then
succeeded in killing all his foes but two; these two yielded.
He took one of them, and marked him by cutting off his ear
and slitting his under lip ; he then dismissed them to carry
the tidings home.

243

MIC MAC INDIAN LEGENDS.

XXXVIII.

STEPHEN HOOD'S DREAM.

[Affer obtaining the war-songs recorded in Legend
XXXVI., friend Stephen gave mc a serious caution. I
must, he said, be careful where I sang them ; shouhl I sing
them among the people of a certain tribe in Canada, — he
did not quite know by what name they were called in
English, — it might cost me my life. To illustrate and
prove what he said, he related the following dream and
its fulfilment.]

ABOUT twenty years ago, he said, he was in the vicinity
of Paradise, Wilmot, Nova Scotia. Coming home one
night, weary and sleepy, he lay down to rest. He soon fell
asleep, and dreamed that the wigwam was light, and that it
was as light as day out-of-doors. He thought that he
looked out and saw a man, a stranger, creeping on his hands
and feet, and hiding behind an old stump that was near.
He awoke; and the dream was so vivid that he caught up
his little axe and walked out. It was really as light as day,
and he saw the top of a man's head behind the stump.
Walking up to the stump, he called out to him and inquired
who he was, and what he was doing there. Taken thus by
surprise, the fellow showed himself, and the light was gone.
He was invited in. The mother, wife, and others were
frightened at the stranger, but Stephen was not; he had
conquered him. They attempted to converse with him, but
he could not speak Micmac ; he spoke in his own tongue,
which was unintclli^ ble to them. Stephen's mother asked
him in French if he spoke that language ; but he did not.

STi:ri!EN noon's dream.

243

Then they tried lCnj;lish, and succeeded. The fcHow was
large, and had his nose pierced in the cartila^'e, as though
for nose-rin^s. Stephen proposed to hunt with liim; they
agreed that he should do so, and receive ten dollars per
month. Tliey went pleasantly on for several weeks. lUit
one day, while they were busy out-of-doors, Sam Nervcl
Labrador took up his axe, and coming along by the stranger,
began in sport kzvi^dalooktand (to sing) ; the fellow was soon
trembling all over, as though certain of being killed. Stephen
assured him that Sam Nervel was only in fun, but he could
hardly be pacified.

After the Sv'ason of porpoising was over, they took their
oil to St. John; during the delay, and while several pounds
were due the Canadian Indian, he slipped off without getting
his pay, and went home. He told Stephen if any one had
sung that song in his country, he would have been instantly
killed.

[The above story was related by my friend Stephen
Hood; and from what I know of the man, I cannot doubt
its accuracy. But after all, it inspires no fear in my bosom.
I shall, however, endeavor to use wisely the tunes which I
have nearly learned, and intend to finish learning and com-
mit to paper. Oivzvhcdbk is the Micmac name for a spy;
this man was an owwhcddk.'\

244

MIC MAC INDIA AT LEGENDS,

XXXIX.

THE DEATH OF A SPY IN CAPE BRETON.

A FEW years ago, the Indians were assembled in
■**■ Potlodek, Cape lireton, on Saint Ann's Day ; and
by what they heard and saw they were led to conclude
that there were owwlscfldks (spies) from Canada on the island.
It was proposed by the young men to use their guns upon
them ; but the old chief, Tooma, would not allow it. One
night, however, one of the boys fired upon them. The next
day they traced the blood to where he had been carried and
buried ; a Inscun (signboard) was set up, informing them
that there were twelve of the strangers, who had no evil
intentions, and need not have been fired upon.

The Indians have the impression, however, that spies de-
serve to be killed even in times of peace. Why should they
conceal themselves, if their intentions are good? Why should
they not boldly present themselves, and deal above-board,
when they could be treated with all hospitality?

% 1 1

THE J/ 1 DDE A' LIFE.

245

XL.

THE HIDDEN LIFE.

THE following singular story was related to me by
Stephen Hood. A captive had fallen into the hands
of the Micmacs, and the Micinac chief had taken iiim into
his family and treated hm kindly. The Micmac was a
mighty magician; and after a while, perceiving that his
Kwedech friend was lor ;ing for honv, he asked him if he
wished to return to hi.^ own coti ury. He frankly owned
that he did. " Then let uj ;o into the woods, and obtain
birch-bark for building a canoe." So into the woods
they went, and camped out n'! night. Suspecting that the
Kwedech might attempt to kill him during his sleep, the
Micmac took precaution to hide his mcmajoodkiin^ out of
doors somewhere, so that he could not bo killed. The
other, seeing him apparently in his power, chopped on" his
head and cut him up into quarters, and made off. All this,
however, could not destroy him, as the living principle had
been taken out and hidden. By and by he awoke from his
sleep, and found himself lying about in pieces; he went to
work, picked himself up, and put himself together as best
he could, introduced the vital principle, and was all right
again, except a few slight pains.

[I had so many stories to remember that day without
notes, that I lost this altogether until I recalled it this
evening ; and now, several days having elapsed since I first
heard it, I find it impossible to remember the details of the
beginning and the close. So I leave it here, and wait until
I hear it again.]

1 MemdjooSkHn, life, soul, seat of life.

i.ia^*ii!ai*;^iiiiii .>»a;»WAfc 4wsk&s.«jai*i::;« A&

240

MIC MAC INDIAN LEGENDS.

XLI.

AN INDIAN TURNED INTO A CHENOO.

[I LEARNED from Ben Brooks to-day that the Chenoos
were not supposed to be a distinct race, like the Kookvveses,
but that they were simply common Indians transformed. The
following two anecdotes were given as illustraLions. They
arc supposed to be of modern date, — since the so-called
conversion of Indians to Christianity.]

SOME distance up the river Sagunay, a branch turns off
to the north, and runs far into the region of ice and
snow. Up this branch, one fall, ten or a dozen families
ascended in tb jir canoes, to hunt and trap ; they were
obliged to pass the winter there, so that in the spring they
might bring down their fur and meat by water after the ice
was gone. Among those hunters was a youth who fell desper-
ately in love with one of the young women. She was about
twenty years of age; she did not favor the young man's
advances, but flatly refused him. This roused his savage
ire, and he vowed revenge. He hinted darkly that some
calamity would soon befall her ; nor was he long in finding
the means of fulfilling his own prediction. Being somewhat
skilled in medicine, he soon found some herb, from which
he manufactured a powerful soporific drug. Stealing into
the lodge one night, after all the inmates were asleep, he
carefully held it to her nose, so that she might inhale the
narcotic perfume ; he had a good opportunity for this, as
she lay with her face up, and her mouth wide open. She
was thus put into a sound sleep, from which she could not
be awakened. He then went out and rolled up a snow-ball,

AN INDIAN TURNED INTO A CHENOO.

247

making it hard and as large as his two fists ; this he brought
in, and placed in the hollow of her neck, just below her
throat; he then retired without being discovered. The sleep-
producing drug prevented the girl from awaking, while the
snow melted and extended its chilling influence over the
region of her vitals. When, after many hours of sound
sleep, she awoke, she was chilly, shivering, and sick ; she
said nothing, however, but refused to eat. This continued
for some time, until her parents became alarmed, and in-
quired what the matter was with her. She insisted that
nothing was the matter, but still refused to eat ; she was ill
and cross, and would not work. One day she was induced
to go to the spring for water; she stayed so long that her
mother became uneasy, and went to look after her. She
approached cautiously, so as not to be discovered, and found
the girl greedily eating snow. She asked her what she meant
by that. The girl replied that she had a burning sensation
at her stomach, which the snow relieved ; and more than
that, she craved the snow, and the taste of it was pleasant.

After a few days she began to grow fierce, as though ready
to kill somebody. Finally, she requested her parents to kill
her. She was very fond of them, as they were of her; and
she told them that unless they killed her she would kill
them, — not that she desired to do so, but she iclt herself
uncontrollably impelled towards 1..; her whole nature was
being changed.

"How can we kill you?" her mother inquired. "You
must shoot me," she replied ; " you must fire seven ' guns at
me, all together. And if you can kill me with seven shots,
all will be well ; but if you fail to do it by firing seven guns
at me seven times, you will not kill me at all, but I shall
kill you."

This was done. Seven guns were loaded ; and seven men,
standing at the door, aimed at her heart, as she sat in the
wigwam just opposite. She was not bound. The guns went
* Note the mystic number, seven.

248

MICMAC INDIAN LEGENDS.

off, i»nd every ball struck her in the breast; but she sat there
firm and unmoved. As she had pre 'ously directed them,
they immediately proceeded to reload I .eir pieces. Again
they fired, and every ball hit and went through her ; but she
neither fell nor faltered. Six times their guns were dis-
charged, — when she looked up with an encouraging smile,
as much as to say, " You will succeed." The seventh dis-
charge was made, and she fell forward dead, with her body,
and especially her heart, completely riddled with bullets.
They now proceeded to burn her body, according to the
directions she had previously given them. They left her
lying in the wigwam where she fell, and proceeded to fill it
with dry pine fuel that would kindle up and flame and burn
furiously. She, with all her surroundings, was soon reduced
to ashes, except her heart. This had become congealed and
hard as if frozen solid ; and it required patience and perse-
verance to reduce it. All was at last accomplished, and the
Indians immediately left the place. The girl had evidently
been brought under the power of an evil spirit, and had been
transformed, or was rapidly becoming transformed, into a
Chenoo, — one of those wild, fierce, unconquerable beings.
But the transformation was going on contrary to her wishes,
and she was being impelled to do deeds from which her
better nature shrank; it was in order to avoid killing and
devouring her parents that she caused herself to be killed.

The Indians all immediately moved down to the shore,
where they were obliged to await the breaking of the ice.
Thither, after emptying their t?soktdgiins} they conveyed
on sleds their provisions and furs, — the result of the win-
ter's hunting. They dreaded and avoided the place where
the poor girl was killed; they feared lest some particle of
her flesh might remain unconsumed. Should that have been
the case, all their labor would have been in vain ; from that

* Cribs raised from the ground, in which the dried meat was packed to keep
it from the weather and the moisture of the ground.

WT^mmmmmmmmmmB

AN INDIAN TURNED INTO A CIIENOO.

249

particle of unconsumed flesh would sprout and spring a full-
fledged Chenoo, from whom no mercy could be expected,
and from whose fury and power there could be no escape.

When the snows melted, and the ice on the river thawed,
they launched their canoes and returned to their village.

250

MICMAC INDIAN LEGENDS.

XLII.
ANOTHER CHENOO TRANSFORMATION.

SOMEWHERE near the river Sagunay,* six men, without
their families, went out one fall to hunt. They would
have to pass the winter there, as usual, as they could not
convey their fur and venison home except by water, and this
could not be done till the ice melted in the spring.

These six men were all connected; they were brothers,
uncles, and nephews. They always said their prayers before
lying down to sleep.

After a while something went wrong with the eldest mem-
ber of the party. He refused to eat ; he would neither go
out hunting, nor would he say his prayers. He usually led
their devotions, and they had looked up to him as their
counsellor and guide. Now they were alarmed; for they
thought that he must be sick, and they feared that he would
die. Should he die, they could not leave him there, — they
would have to bring him all the way to the village, in order
to lay him in consecrated ground. He began to look very
surly, and finally told them to go home and leave him
there.

They talked over the strange affair among themselves.

What could it mean? Was he laying a plan to cheat them

out of their share of what they had taken? A week passed.

He was evidently becoming worse; his countenance was

more wild and fierce, and his eyes flashing and glassy.

" Off home with you," said he, " as fast as you can go, if

you know when you are well off! Take all you can with

you ; I shall remain here." " But, uncle, what will become

1 The Micmacs call this river T5doos6ke, because of the steep, perpendicular
rocks that line the shore. The Indians who reside there are called Oosagun^k', —
from which the English name of the river evidently comes.

WP^ieifntmm

\am3t3iSS,iati^.at:s4iJi£i.tjU

ANOTHER CHENOO TRANSFORMATION:

251

of you if we leave you here?" they asked. He replied that
they need not trouble themselves about him ; he could take
care of himself. All they had to do was to hasten home and
let him alone, or it would be worse for them.

So they load up their sledges, and start on their journey.
After a long, heavy, and sorrowful march through the woods,
they reach the village; and all gather round to learn why
they have come home in midwinter, and what has become
of their comrade. " He became wild and drove us away,"
is their reply. Tt is now determined to send out a strong
party to bring nim in, dead or alive. About thirty strong
men start out on the expedition. When they reach the place
where they left him, all is quiet; there is no smoke rising
from the wigwam in which they left him, nor do they see
any other signs of life there. They conclude that he is
dead. Approaching cautiously, they look in; he is not
there, but he has left his moccasins, his gun, and his hat.
They hunt around for his tracks ; by and by they discover
which way he went. Snow has fallen since ; the tracks are
old, but they can be followed. When they see his gun and
his moccasins, they are sure that, if he is alive, he possesses
superhuman power; for otherwise he could not go bare-
footed through the snow, or subsist without the means of
providing game. After a while they find his coat, which he
has thrown ofif. Night comes on, and they halt until morn-
ing. As soon as it is daylight, and they can discern the
tracks, they are ofif again. He has gone over the crust
naked and barefooted ; and sometimes, in sinking through
the crust, he has left his blood on the snow, — the sharp
crust having scraped and barked his shins. He has been
running due north, and his leaps over the snow have in-
creased in length as he has advanced towards those frozen
regions; a moose could not jump farther. They are forced
to give him up. He had evidently been transformed into a
ferocious Northman, — a Chenoo ; and they abandoned the
pursuit and returned to their village, glad to have escaped

252

MICMAC INDIAN LEGENDS.

an encounter with so formidable a foe as he would have
proved had they come up with him. He was never heard
of again.

[Such is the story. The inference is that if it be not all
fiction, the man had become deranged, and had wandered
away and died. The case of the girl presents greater diffi-
culties ; its historical basis, however, if it had any, might be
the same, — a case of lunacy, fiction and figure adding the
incredible details.]

'1'!

■<.-

if:.

^Wii'ir,

re
•d

GLOOSCAP AND HIS FOUR VISITORS.

253

lU
;d

fi-

)e
le

XLIII.
GLOOSCAP AND HIS FOUR VISITORS.

SOON alter Glooscap had left the Indians, four men
agreed to go in search of him. They did not know
where he was, and therefore they did not know which way
to go ; but they knew that while he was with them he was
never very far away, and that he could always be found by
those who diligently sought him. This encouraged them to
undertake the search, and continue it for many months;
their diligence was in the end crowned with success.

They started from their home in the spring of the year,
and continued their journey and their search until winter.
Nor did they stop then, but persevered until spring, and on
through the ensuing season, until midsummer.

The first indication of success was the discovery of a small
path in the forest. They did not know whither it led, but
they followed it. It brought them out to a beautiful river;
the path continued to wind along the bank of this river, until
the river spread out into a broad, beautiful lake. Still fol-
lowing the path, which was marked by blazed trees, ^ they at
length reached an extensive point of land running far out
into the lake. Looking on from the top of a hill, they saw
smoke ascending through the trees, and soon came up to a
large, well-constructed wigwam. They entered, and found
seated on the right a man apparently about forty years old,
who looked healthy and hale ; on the other side a very aged
woman was seated, doubled over with age, as though she
were about an hundred years old. On the part of the wig-

1 The blazing was, as is always the case among Indians, on the side directly
opposite the direction in which the wigwam lay ; so that the mark can be seen
as you go on towards the wigwam, but not as you go from it.

•

254

MICA/AC INDIAN LEGENDS.

warn opposite the door, and on the left-hand side, a mat was
spread out, as though a third person had a seat there.

The visitors were welcomed in, and invited to seat them
selves. They were not asked whence they had come, or
whither they were going; ^ the man was affable, pleasant,
and evidently well pleased {wSledaasit kescg'ooi't).

After a while they hear the plash of a paddle in the water,
and the noise of a canoe. Then they hear approaching
footsteps; and soon a young man enters, well clad and of
fine form and features, bringing in his weapons, and showing
that he has been hunting. He addresses the old woman,
calling her Kecjoo (Mother), and tells her that he has brought
home some game. This is, according to Indian custom,
left outside for the woman to bring in, dress, and cook.
The old woman, weak and tottering, rises with great diffi-
culty, and makes her way out for the game ; she manages to
bring in the four or five beavers which have been killed, and
commences operations upon them. But she makes slow
and feeble progress ; then the more aged man addresses the
younger, calling him Uchkccn (" My younger brother "), and
tells him to take the work out of her hands and finish it
himself. He does so ; and in a short time a portion is
cooked and set before the weary and hungry guests, who
do ample justice to the repast.

There they remain and are hospitably entertained for
about a week. They rest and recruit themselves after their
long and tiresome journey. Time and travel have made sad
work with their wardrobes; their clothes are torn to pieces,
and their skin is peeping out in all directions.

One morning the elder man tells the younger to wash their
mother's face. (They had concluded that the old woman
was the mother of these two men.) He proceeds to do as
directed. As soon as he washes her face, the wrinkles
vanish, and she becomes young-'ooking and very fair. Her

1 Among all tribes of Indians, these q'lv-stions are almost invariably asked of
strangers when they arrive, or whenever they chance to meet.

GLOOSC^tr AND //A? FOUR VISITORS.

255

hair is then combed out, braided, and rolled up and fast-
ened in a knot on the back of her head. It is no longer
white, but black and glossy. He arrays her in a beautiful
dress ; and now, instead of being old, bent down, and de-
crepit, she becomes straight, active, and young. The men
look on at the transformation in utter bewilderment. They
perceive that whoever their host is, he is possessed, in a high
degree, of supernatural powers. He has given them an illus-
tration of what he is able to do. They are invited to walk
around and survey the place. The situation is seen to be
delightful in the extreme. Tall trees with luxuriant foliage,
and covered with beautiful, fragrant blossoms, extend in all
directions ; they are so free from limbs and underbrush, and
they stand in rows so straight and so far apart, that the
visitors can see a long distance in every direction. The air
is balmy and sweet, and everything wears the impress of
health, repose, and happiness.

The owner of this blissful domain now inquires from
whence they have come, and they tell him. He inquires
the object of their journey, and they tell him that they are
in search of Glooscap ; he informs them that he himself is
Glooscap. He next inquires what they want him to do for
them ; and one by one they tell him. One says, " I am a
wicked man, and have an ugly temper. I wish to be pious,
meek, and holy." "All right," says Glooscap. The next
says, " I am very poor, and find it difficult to make a living.
I wish to be rich." " Very well," is the answer. The third
says, " I am despised and hated by my people, and I wish to
be loved and respected." " So be it," says Glooscap. The
fourth says, " I am desirous of living a long time." Glooscap
shakes his head at this. "You have asked a hard thing."
he tells him. " Nevertheless, we will see what we can do
for you."

The next day they prepare a festival, and all four are
feasted and sumptuously entertained. They are then taken
to the top of a hill which is very high and difficult of access.

tmrnm

mtm

256

M/CM.-IC INDIAN LEGENDS.

The ground is rocky, broken, and totally unfit for cultivation.
On the very apex of this hill,* where the sun would shine
from morning until night, they halt; and Glooscap takes the
man who had desired to live a long time, clasps him around
the loins, lifts him from the ground, and then puts him down
again, passing his clasped hands up over the man's head,
and giving him a twist or two as he moves his hands up-
wards, transforms him into an old gnarled cedar-tree, with
limbs growing out rough and ugly all the way from the
bottom. " There ! " says he to the cedar-tree ; " I cannot
say exactly how long you will live, — the Great Spirit alone
can tell that. But I think that you will not be likely to be
disturbed for a good while, as no one can have any object
in cutting you down ; you arc yourself unfit for any earthly
purpose, and the land around you is of no use for cultiva-
tion. I think that you will stand there for a good, long while."

The three companions arc horror-stricken at the scene ;
they mourn the loss of their comrade, and shudder at their
own fate, expecting that something no less terrible awaits
them. But their fears are soon dispelled. Returning to the
lodge, he opens his upsdkiimoode (medicine-bag), and taking
out three small boxes, gives one to each, and furnishes all
three with new suits of apparel, all beautifully finished and
ornamented ; they dofif their old clothes, and put on the new
ones.

He now inquires of them when they intend to go home,
and in what direction their home lies; they inform him that
they wish to return immediately, but are utterly ignorant of
the way, — it took them one whole summer, a whole winter,
and half another summer to come ; their home must be very
far away, and the prospect of ever agnin finding it is small.
He smiles, and tells them that he knows the way well, having
often travelled it. They request him to be their guide ; he
agrees to do so, and bright and early the next morning
they prepare to start.

1 Keneskw&kiiik, from the top of a hill (sugar-loaf).

Gl.OOSCAP AXD HIS FOUR VISITORS.

!57

Morning dawns; Glooscap puts on liis belt and leads off.
and they follow. About the middle of the forenoon they
reach the top of a hi^h mountain, l-'rom thence they can
discern another mountain away in the distance, the blue out-
lines of which are just in sight above the horizon; the men
conclude that it will take them at least a week to reach it.
They push on ; and to their astonishment, at about the middle
of the afternoon they have reached the top of this second
mountain. From the top of this they are directed to look
around; and In ! all is familiar to them. They are perfectly
acquainted with hill and forest, lake and river; and Glooscap
says to them, *' There is your own native village." Then he
leaves them, and returns. They go on, and before sunset arc
at home.

When they arrive no one knows them, their new and
splendid robes have so changed their appearance for the
better. They tell who they are, however, and are soon sur-
rounded by old and young, male and female, who listen with
amazement as they recount their adventures.

They now open their boxes, which, according to Glooscap's
directions, they have kept carefully closed till they reached
their homes. The boxes contain a potent unguent; this they
rub over their persons, and each one's desire is accomplished.
The one who had been despised, hated, and shunned is now
rendered beautiful, well-beloved, and withal so fragrant from
the perfume of the " divine anointing," that his company is
sought after by all. The one who had desired abundance is
blessed in that line ; success attends him in the chase, and
plenty daily crowns his board. And, best of all, the man
who had sought for durable riches and righteousness, and
the honor that cometh from above, was not disappointed in
this respect; he was ever after meek and devout.

[Related to me by Benjamin Brooks, Oct. 14, 1869, and
written down the same day.

358

MICATAC INDIAN LEGENDS.

Here seems clearly to be a parable: —

1. All who seek divine help will find it Wc may not
know where God is; but let us search after him, and we shall
find him.

2. Truth is disclosed to the mind gradually; wc first find
a small, dim path, but it becomes plainer; the Divinity is
often fi)und before he is known.

3. Here are four of the chief objects of human pursuit:
religion, fame, wealth, and long life.

4. Those who diligently pursue after these things will,
ordinarily, find them.

5. Sometimes an answer to an unreasonable request is
given, but it proves to be a curse instead of a blessing; long
life is granted, but at the expense of enjoyment and useful-
ness. Better a short and useful life than a long and useless
one, like the gnarled and twisted cedar, not worth the cutting
down.]

A CHILD XOCA'/S///:/) BY A JIIiAfi.

259

not

Kill

ind
r is

lit:

vill,

: is

fill-
less
;ing

XLIV.

A CHILD NOURISHED HV A BI'AR.

[My friend Benjamin Brooks informs me that tiiere is a
family of Mooin (Bears) among the IndiuJ^s. aiul his grand-
fatiier's second wife was one of them. He remembers asking
her how the name came to be applied to them, and she told
him the following story.]

ALONG time before either the French or the English
people were heard of, there was in a certiiin village
a little boy who was an orphan ; he was in charge of no
one in particular, and sometimes stayed in one wigwam and
sometimes in another, having no home of his own.

As fall was verging towards winter, this little boy went out
into the woods alone one day, to pick berries. Wandering
on and on, he at last got lost; and when he attempted to
find his way back to the village, he was unable to do so.
Night came on, but he still pursued his way; by and by he
saw a light, and making for it, he reached a wigwam, where
he heard people talking within. Entering, he saw a woman
seated there, and farther on he saw two small boys. The
woman told him to come in, and the boys seemed delighted
to see him. The woman gave him some food ; he remained
there all night, and was so well pleased that he remained
there altogether.

As he had no home in particular, the people in the village
did not miss him for several days. But they missed him at
last, and a careful search was made for him ; they could not
find him, however, and gave him up as hopelessly lost.

Now, it so happened that the boy had entered a bear's
den. In his bewilderment, he had mistaken the old bear for

26o

MICMAC INDIAN LEGENDS.

Pi:

i^;';:

li'l-:

^ Hi

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a woman, and the two cubs for boys ; he was not able, after-
wards, to correct the error.

All winter long he remained. The bear had a store of
dried meat laid up, and a good supply of berries; these
berries were stirred up in a large wtscomde (birchen vessel).
These, together with the dried meat, were brought out and
given to them when they were hungry.

Spring came ; the ice broke up, and the smelts began to
ascend into the fresh water in order to deposit their spawn.
The Indians took advantage of the season to catch the
smelts; and as usual, the bears took occasion to do the
same thing.

The method of fishing adopted by the bears is to walk
into the brook and sit down ; then they spread out their fore-
paws, make a grab at the fish, and toss them on to the bank.
The Indians, knowing the habits of the bears, took occasion
to hunt them at the same time that they fished for smelts.
So one day a man looking for bears' tracks discovered those
of an old bear and two cubs ; along with these there was
what seemed to be the tracks of a child's naked foot. " This
is a queer-looking bear's track," said he to himself; "there is
something remarkable about this ; I must watch." So, going
the next day about sundown,^ he concealed himself near the
place, and watched.

Presently he heard some one coming that way, and talking
very l)usily as he came. Soon an old she-bear hove in sight,
followed by two cubs and a small, naked boy. The boy and
the cubs were engaged in earnest conversation. The man
could distinctly hear and understand what the boy said ; the
boy could understand the cubs, but their talk sounded to
the man just like the usual unmeaning murmur of young
bears.

When the old bear reached the smelting-ground, she
walked into the water and seated herself on her haunches,

Miiii

' At siindown the smelts are most abundant ; at this hour the bears and
men, knowing the habits of smelts, pursue their piscatory practices.

ii! ]

A CHILD iXOURISHED BY A BEAR.

261

and commenced seizing the smelts and tossing them out
upon the bank. The boy walked in below, and drove them
into the net; and the old bear, shouting at the top of he;
vo\ce, Pcjedajik ! (" They are coming! ") would throw them
out in heaps as fast as a fisherman would with a scoop-net.^

The mar. now returned home, and reported what he had
seen. He felt satisfied that the boy he had seen among the
bears was the one that had been lost ; the boy was now five
years old. All the village was in commotion ; they deter-
mined to rescue the child, but it was difficult to decide how
to do it. It was finally determined that all the men should
go the next night to the fishing-place, and attempt to seize
the boy and brin^^ him home. The man who had made the
discovery led the party. They took care not to cross the
bear's course, and avoided the direction she had taken, so
that she should not get the scent of their tracks and be
alarmed. Arriving at the place, they concealed themselves,
sat down, waited, and watched. Presently along came the
bear and her two cubs, attended by the object of their search.
They allowed them to become engaged in their work, as the
noise of the running water and their attention to the smelts
would prevent them from hearing the approach of the men ;
then they closed quietly in upon them, making the circle
narrower and narrower; and finally, rushing upon the boy,
they seized and held him fast. He yelled lustily, scratched
and bit like a little bear,— showing that he had profited by
the lessons he had received in the den ; while t' c old bear,
uttering fierce and defiant growls, slowly retired from the
field, and refused either to give battle or to run. They
allowed her to pass unmolested, and carried home their
prize. He was wild and fierce ; small black hairs had begun
to sprout out upon his little naked body. But he was quieted
and tamed in a short time, grew up, and was the progenitor
of the family of the Bears. Naturally enough, they had
named him Mooin.

1 The Indians affirm that bears actually fish for smelts in this way.

ill

I-, t

'i ;.

' r

iii

262 MICMAC INDIAN LEGENDS.

Addition to the Bear Story.

Before the boy lef" the den of MooTnaskW; she asked him
to intercede with his friends, the Indian hunters, not to kill
her. " But how will they know you from the rest? " inquired
the boy. She directed him to climb a high tree and look
around ; he will see smoke rising here and there in all
directions, as from a solitary wigwam. He will perceive
that from some a larger volume of smoke arises than from
others ; those from which the largest volume of smoke arises
are the dens of female bears, who, having families to nourish,
are obliged to do a larger amount of cooking, an hercfore
to build larger fires.

[This addition was related to me by Mrs. Jim Paul, May
10, 1870, at Dartmouth.]

!*■

BADGER AND HIS LITTLE B MOTHER.

263

m
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ed

all
ve
im
les
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XLV.

BADGER AND HIS LITTLE BROTHER,

SOMEWHERE in the forest there resided an Indian, — a
young man named Kckwajoo (Badger) ; he had with
him a small boy, who was his brother. In order to secure
their winter's supply, they retired into the midst of the
woods, where game abounded. As they moved on, they
came out to a large, beautiful lake covered with water-fowl.
There were wild geese, brant, black ducks, wood-ducks, and
all the smaller kinds, such as teals and whistlers.

The small boy was delighted with the sight ; but he
eagerly inquired of his brother how they were going to
manage them. He answered, " Let us first go to work and
build a large wigwam, and make it very strong, affixing to
it a heavy, solid door." This was done. Kekwajoo then,
being a magician, arranged his plans for decoying the geese
and ducks to their destruction. The little boy received the
orders. He was to go out on a point of land that extended
far into the lake, and call the birds ; he was to tell them that
his brother was waiting in the wigwam, to give them a kingly
reception. The boy went out, as directed ; and Kekwajoo,
arraying himself in his most splendid robes, seated himself
in the part of the wigwam opposite the door; he leaned
back with his eyes nearly closed, awaiting their approach.

Then the boy shouts at the top of his voice, calling to
the birds to come in and attend upon their king, while he
displays his royal authority and utters his high behests.
In flock the birds through the open door ; they arrange
themselves around their monarch, in the order of their size.
The wild-geese come nearest, and sit down ; next to them
the brant take their station, then the black ducks ; and so

;:i

264

MICMAC IXDIAN LEGENDS.

on, until the least in size are farthest off and nearest to the
door. Tlic little boy eomes in last, sits down by the door,
closes it as he has been directed, and holds it together.

1 le now, according to previous instructions, directs all the
birds to close their eyes and keep them shut as tight as pos-
sible, until he gives them word to open them, or .heir eyes will
burst when the king displays his royal magnificence. They
obey to the letter. Whereupon Badger begins operations
upon them, grasping each one tightly round the wings and
legs, and crushing their heads with his teeth. — thus prevent-
ing all noise and fluttering. He proceeds quietly with the
work of death, until he has finished all the wild-geese, brant,
and black ducks. The small boy now begins to have his
better feelings stirred. He sees no necessity for such wanton
destruction, as it seems to him ; they can never cat what are
already killed. So, stooping down, he whispers into the ear
of a small bird seated near him to open his eyes a little.

This the bird does cautiously, lest his eyes should burst;
he sees to his horror what the man is doing. He imme-
diately gives the alarm ; he screams out, Kcdftmmcdolk !
(" We are all killed ! ") Whereupon they all open their eyes,
scream, and fill the wigwam with flutter, noise, and confusion
worse confounded. The boy drops down as though knocked
over in the general inHde ; the door flies open, and out the
birds rush over his prostrate body. Kekwajoo in the mean
time e.xerts himself to the utmost in seizing them and crush-
ing their heads. The little boy seizes the last one by the
legs and holds it fast, lest his brother should suspect the
trick and administer condign punishment. He is suspected,
for his brother seizes him roughly and threatens to flog him ;
but he begs off, and declares that the birds knocked him
down and forced open the door, and that he could not pos-
sibly help it. This apology is accepted, and the two begin
to pluck and dress the game. The giblets are carefully pre-
served, and the fowls are sliced up, dried, and thus preserved
for their winter's store.

BADGER AND HIS LITTLE BROTHER.

.'>65

Time now passes on. They have plenty of food and fuel,
and are comfortable in their lodtie.

About midwinter they have a visitor. A little fellow
comes smelling around, and finally enters the lodge; he
is hungry, and intimates that he wishes to share in the
abundance that evidently reigns there. His name is
Abistanaooch' (Marten), and he is entertained according
to the rules of Indian hospitality. After a while another
visitor arrives, whose name is xlbleegumooch (Rabbit) ; and
they all dwell comfortably and cosily together, telling stories,
and engaging in other pastimes.

One day Marten undertakes to quiz Rabbit. The latter is
somewhat inclined to boast, and pretends that he has moved
in a higher circle than his present company. He is proud
of his white robe, and claims to have been the companion of
the aristocracy ; " he has kept company with gentlemen."

"What means that slit in your lip?" his comrade, the
Marten, asks archly.

"Oh," says he, "over there where I live, we cat with
knives and forks ; and one day my knife slipped while I was
eating, and I cut my lip."

"And pray, why arc your mouth and whiskers always
going when you are keeping still?"

" Oh, I am meditating, planning something, and talking to
myself; that's the way we do."

" Well, why do you always hop? Why do you not some-
times walk and run, as we do? "

" Ah, that 's our style ! We gentlemen do not move like
the vulgar; we have a gait of our own."

" But, pray, why do you scamper away so fast, jumping so
far and so rapidly when you move?"

" Well, I used to be employed in carrying zvecgadigiifin ^
(despatches), and got into the habit of moving nimbly ;
and now it comes natural."

"And why is your dung so round and hard?"

^ IVee'siidr^iinn means despatches, books, letters, or papers of any kind.

1^'

I ■

I '

;•

11,1

4. 1

7 - ^:

<, :^^-t

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266

MICMAC INDIAN LEGENDS,

" It is because we eat biscuit and other nice things."

" And why docs your water stain the snow of a red
color?"

" That is owing to the fact that we gentlemen often regale
ourselves with wine."

While this important discussion is going on between the
two little guests, their host has been attentively listening.
He inquires where their homes are. Marten informs him
that his home is not very far away. " Who and what are
the people who reside there? " asks Badger. Marten gives
him a full account. They are all named from the animals ;
he begins with the largest animals in the forest, placing the
moose at the head, and going downwards to the smallest
creature, — mentioning the bear, the caribou, the deer, the
wolf, the wildcat, the squirrel, and the tiny mouse.

"Will you go and show me the way to your village?"
Kekwajoo asks. " I will," is the answer ; and they start on
the journey. As soon as they come in sight of the village,
however, the wily Badger turns back ; he is resolved to have
some sport at the expense of the strangers, and to play upon
them a practical joke.

So he returns to his own lodge, and tells his little brother
that he has found a village of Indians, and he is going to
pay them a visit. Taking a quantity of feathers and a good
supply of dried fowl, the two go on towards the newly
discovered settlement. Before they reach it, Badger fixes
a bed for his brother under a hollow stump, puts in the
feathers, leaves the meat, and tells him to remain there until
he comes for him.

He now arrays himself in the garb and ornaments of a
young woman. In this attire he proceeds to the camp. He
enters the chief's lodge, and is kindly received and enter-
tained. A young man and several girls are there; the
young chief and his sisters, as well as their parents, are
delighted with the looks and manners of the stranger. The
young man becomes enamoured of her beauty, and* inter-

BADGER AXD HIS LITTLE B/WTIIKR.

267

cedes with his parents, who make proposals of marriage
in his behalf; she replies that if they will treat her kindly,
she will consent to the match. So the agreement is made,
and the wedding is celebrated in great style, with feasting,
dancing, and sports suited to the important occasion.

A new lodge is erected, and the newly married pair retire
to their own home.

Time passes, and the young chief does not suspect the
imposition that is being practised upon him ; when the jester
determines to cap the climax with a bogus baby. One
day the young man kills a moose, and the wife obtains
permission to go out and see it dressed. It is a cow, and
there are two small calves ; one of these calves the pre-
tended wife snatches up unperceivcd, and concealing it under
her dress, she carries it home. This she manages to dry and
hide against the time of need.

Meanwhile the little brother hidden under the stump has
eaten up all his provisions ; he is lonely, and shouts lustily
for his brother. The villagers hear the strange noise, but
cannot understand the words or divine their cause. The
young chief's wife is called out to listen ; she understands
and explains all. It is the OwoolakumoocjTt (Genius of
Famine), gaunt and grim; and should he reach the village,
starvation would be the consequence. Alas ! she remembers
too well his visits in her country. " Can you meet and drive
him back?" they eagerly ask. "I can," is the reply; "do
you furnish me with a well-dressed hide of a yearling moose,
and a good supply of tallow, and I '11 soon stop his noise and
drive him away." The articles are forthwith furnished; she
takes them, and rushes furiously forth, shouting the name
of the brother: Ad chowwdd [a word to which they could
attach no meaning ; nor could any one else now], clnme^'f
(" go home ! ") and bidding him at the same time to stop
his noise. The noise accordingly soon ceases. The little
fellow is completely rolled up in the soft blanket, supplied
with food, and told to wait a little longer, and the game will
soon be plaj'ed out.

268

MIC MAC INDIA iV LEGENDS

# If

tM I

If; 1

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The next step is to bring forth the babe. When all is
ready, she informs her verdant husband that custom on such
occasions among her tribe is for the mother to be left entirely
alone, and for the husband to go away and remain till all is
over. He accordingly goes to his father's lodge, to await
the important event. So the dried little moose-calf is taken
and carefully rolled up like a new-born infant, whose cry
the pretended mother exactly imitates ; when in rushes a
bevy of young girls, to welcome the little stranger, — for
they had heard the cry as they were going to the spring for
water. There lies the mother ; and she holds the baby all
rolled up, and concealed in a blanket. They take it up care-
fully, and make a dive for the dear little face, but arc told
that they must not do that, — that the father must see it
first, and that he must uncover the face, and they must carry
it to him. Noolmnsugakalumadijfil (They kiss it outside the
blanket). Off they start; and off he starts, too, in hot haste,
as well he may, running with all his might to where his
brother lies concealed, whom he snatches up, and away they
run for dear life.

Meanwhile the girls have given the supposed babe into the
hands of the supposed father. Grinning with delight, he
begins to unroll the wrapper; when, to his dismay, horror,
and mortification, the cheat is exposed. He flings it indig-
nantly into the fire, and rushes furiously towards his lodge,
to deal summary vengeance upon the author of the trick.
But the lodge is empty. A party of fleet hunters and
warriors is, however, soon upon the trail; the wily magi-
cian baffles them. He and his brother reach the lake.
Seizing some dry, broken limbs, he casts them into the
water and commands them to turn into a canoe ; instantly
this is done ; in they leap, and paddle for life. His pursuers
reach the shore, and just catch a glimpse of the canoe, with
its freight, far out and rapidly approaching the opposite
shore.

They hunt round, and find the lodge ; little Marten and

snnasH

BADGER AND I/IS LITTLE BROTHER.

269

Ablccgumooch can now give them the whole history of their
adventures. They take possession of all that is of any ser-
vice, and, chagrined and mortified, but unrevcnged, they
return to their own village.

[The above was related to me by Ben Brooks, Dec. 9,
1869. He had heard it many times, and ever so long ago.]

2/0

MICMAC hXDlAN LEGENDS.

XL VI.

GLOOSCAP DESERTED HY HIS COMRADES.

vri

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i!;:i'.

r^ LOOSCAP resided on an island with a number of
^^-^ Indian families, who were named from the dif-
ferent animals and birds. The name of the island was
AjaalT^rnuichk ; and prominent members of the comnuinity
were Puluwech', W'ejck', Teetees, Cakakooch, and Mlkchago-
gwech. Some of the men, and especially Pulowech', became
jealous of Glooscap, though there was no real ground for
their surmises ; and they determined to take advantage of
Glooscap's absence and remove the encampment, hoping
that Glooscap, being left on the deserted island, would per-
ish. Glooscap, though absent, knew very well what was
going on, but allowed the jealous man to have his own way;
and so the whole part)' removed and left the island, taking
the two members of Glooscap's family, — the old woman,
here called IMooinaskw (Mrs. Bear), and Marten, Glooscap's
vvaitin^^-man, who was always honored with the title of
Uchkeen (My younger brother).

Glooscap returned to his wigwam, and found it empty, and
the whole place deserted. So he made himself easy, and
remained for seven years alone on the island, " the monarch
of all he surveyed." He then determined to go in quest of
his former neighbors. His first step was to summon a com-
rade who could convey him to the mainland ; and at his
call a whale made his appearance in the distance, approach-
ing rapidly, and spouting nearer and nearer every time he
came up. Soon he placed himself alongside of a rock ;
from the top of which Glooscap, with his dog under his
arm, stepped on his back, and was rapidly and safely con-

' . ■n>i ^ I gwuin-u wiM

G Loose AP DESERTED ISY J//S COMRADES.

271

veycd to the mainland. He soon came upon a deserted
camp, and ascertained that it was forsaken seven years a^o.
One of the wigwams was inhabited, however, by an old man
and woman; from whom Glooscap learned the course his
comrades had taken, and withal the iiardships he would
have to encounter in coming up with them. The first ob-
stacle would appear in the shape of a wrinkled old hag, who
would seem very helpless and innocent ; she would address
him in a kind and bland manner, in order to get him within
the grasp of her sorcery, when she would mercilessly destroy
him. She would request him to obtain some firewood for
her, and also to examine her head ; he would have to
comply with her request, but must manage to deceive
her. " Before you reach the next camping-place of your
people, where this witch resides," says his counsellor, " you
will pass over a small bog where cranberries grow ; gather
a few handfuls of these, and carry them with you ; and when
you engage in your 'hunting expedition,' and wish to 'pop
the game,' you must cast the latter into the fire, and crack
the cranberries between your teeth. In this way you will
baffle the old woman's witchcraft, and escape unhurt."

Receiving this information and these directions, he leaves
his friends and pursues his way. He crosses the cranberry
bog, and puts a few handfuls of the berries into his bosom,
and keeps them against the time of need.

He finally reaches the second camping-ground of the
company who had so unjustly left him on his island home
of AjaalTgunijchk ; he ascertains that it has been deserted
six years. From the top of a solitary wigwam he sees
smoke ascending, and he enters the lodge. There sits an
old woman, so wrinkled, and apparently so enfeebled by age,
that she seems utterly incapable of helping herself. But all
this is feigned ; she is sufificiently young and active, and also
sufficiently versed in magical arts, to be able to accomplish
wonders. But she has now a subtle game to play ; she is
not ignorant of the character of her guest, and is anxious

!^ '^

!!"''i

:J|'

272

MIC MAC INDIA.V LEGEXns.

to destroy liim. So she asks him to collect for her an arm-
ful of dry wood, and to kindle up her fire; he does so
accordinj^ly. She now pretends to be sleepy, and reciucsts
him to examine her head. With this request he also com-
plies; and when he has made a discovery, he announces the
important fact (xvaktvivajccHv), She says to him, IWisp
("Crush it"). Thereupon he throws it into the fire and
cracks a cranberry between his teeth, and composedly
proceeds in his benevolent enterprise. Each successive
discovery is disposed of in the same way, until, jjettinjj
tired, he says, " That will do ; I must f^o now." She is
outdone, — fairly conquered ; she becomes his friend, and
admonishes him respecting the next danger he will have to
meet. At his next stopping-place he will be attacked by
two huge, savage wild beasts, — the tutelary genii of two
young women, who, concealed behind a curtain in their
father's lodge, arc guarding the pass against strangers, and
who will send out their dogs to destroy Glooscap when he
comes. But he himself has a small accompaniment in the
canine line, — a tiny thing that he can easily snatch up and
carry under his arm, but which can enlarge himself into any
size which the occasion requires.

This being the state of things, the adventurer moves for-
ward. As they approach the next deserted oodiin, Glooscap
gives the dog his instructions. He is to retain his small
size, and keep behind, close to his master's heels, until the
formidable beasts asfail him; he is then to close in to the
rescue.

As soon as he reaches the deserted village, he spies the
solitary lodge where the two girls reside, with their enchant-
ments and their savage sentinels. The two furious beasts,
large as lions, rush upon him; but his faithful dog, instantly
rising to the size of a bear, grapples with them. They are
soon despatched. The dog seizes the first by the throat, and
brings him to the ground ; then he pounces on the other,
which is as speedily despatched. Glooscap then lays his

.-f

Ml'

CLOOSCAV DESERIT.D DY Ills CO Mh' AD lis. 273

hand on the cIor; a.ul he is so tiny and quiet that he places
him under his arm, \vali<s in. and sahites the old couple, the
parents of the girls, in the usual friendly manner, as though
nothing had happene.l. lie cannot sec the two sisters, as
there is a curtain hung across the middle of the wi-wam
and they are behind it; but their curiosity is awakened, and
they cautiously lift the bottom of the curtain, and i,eep under
to see who the stranger is, and what he is like.

Glooscap inciuires of the old people if any Indians have
passed that way lately. « Not for four years," he is told
At that time a number of families had encamped in the
nc>g])borhood ; but they were now a h^ig distance away, and
It would be impossible to overtake them. There were many
obstacles in the way; but particularly there was a huge
giant, -a koohvcX - v^ho guarded the passage; and he
managed to entrap all that passed, whether man or beast.

Thus instructed and admonished. Glooscap moves on He
arrives in due ti.ne at the place which the giant guards, and
where he has built his ucrsM-nn. The kookzvi<s sees him
approaching, and exults at the sight. " Now I shall have
a capual dinner," he says to himself. Glooscap gives his
dog the wink, and boldly marches in to face the l-ookwl<s
The latter unsheathes his long knife, and prepares for
slaughter. But he has mistaken his man this time- the
dog ,s let slip, and with a bound he seizes the giant by
the throat, throws him to the ground, and despatches
hnn.

Glooscap has now cleared the road; he meets with no

more obstructions until he reaches the place where his

quondam companions are encamped. But he does not

immediately make himself known. He conceals himself

near the village until he sees his own friend Marten out

huntmg for wood. He endeavors to arrest his attention •

but the poor fellow - who, with the old woman, was

compelled to remove sorely against their inclination, and

has not been treated very kindly since -is so absorbed

274

MIC MAC INDIAN- LEGENDS.

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iir

Ik'

in his troubles that he dor;s not listen or look up, until
Glooscap throws a small stick at his head. This makes him
look round. At first he supposes it has fallen from a tree;
but he spies his friend in concealment, recognizes him at
once, and utters a cry of joy. But he is instantly checked.
" Wait till dark, and I will go to your wigwam ; you may
go home and tell your grandmother." He goes home
accordingly, and makes the announcement; in due time
Glooscap comes in. ]\Iarten is poor, and his provisions are
low ; but his clothes arc good.^ He goes out to beg food
for supper ; he tells the people that his elder brother,
Glooscap, has arrived, and he wants to furnish him with
the usual expressions of hospitality to strangers cind friends.
But they do not believe a word of it. Teetecs (Jay) flies
over, pccph. in, and sees him ; she confirms Marten's tale,
but she is disbelieved. " It is all nonsense," they say ;
" Glooscap is still at AjaalTgiinuchk, and dead long ago."
Glooscap, in the mean time, takes special care not to dis-
sipate their doubts, and for this purpose manages to keep
concealed.

But when night has settled down upon the world, and
the whole village is hushed to repose, Glooscap prepares
for a hunt. He and Marten go out ; and before morning
they have brought home an ample supply of venison.
Madame Ka'kakooch (Crow) soon discovers this, and
spreads the news through the village. They inquire of
Marten where he has obtained so much meat, and he tells
them that he obtained it by hunting. Glooscap, by putting
his own robes, and especially his belt, upon the young man,
has in fact endowed him measurably with his own strength
and skill.

After a while the whole truth is out ; it is known that
Glooscap is too much for them. He does not resent their

1 Nancy JecUlorc, from whom I received this ahtoolivXhiiny informs me that
this statement is predicated upon the well-known f.ict that the marten ic always
lean, but his fur is abundant and fine ; he is lean in flesh, but wears a fine coat.

■^,fr;,^,~tf/- r, y,,^„ ^,^„ .,,, .;,... wf.'fT ■ « ■ W»',y!.ijT|HM

GLOOSCAP DESERTED BY I/IS COMRADES. 275

ill-usage ; he is too noble and generous for that, and rather
enjoys their confusion, as well as his own independence.
The whole village is now supplied with venison of all
kinds.

After a while he proposes a removal ; he and his comrades
will leave the rest, since they are so anxious to get rid of
them. The first step is to construct a canoe for the voyage ;
in due time they are ready for a start, and Glooscap, Grand-
mother, and Marten enter the canoe, push out into the middle
of the broad and beautiful river, and sweep away down towards
its mouth. After a while this river rushes down under the
surface of the earth, and flows under ground, through rocks
and cataracts so dark and frightful that the young fellow
dies of fright, and the old woman soon follows suit, — leaving
Glooscap to manage the craft. He guides it through with-
out difficulty, and in due time emerges again into the upper
world, and soon reaches a solitary wigwam situated near the
bank of the river. Glooscap turns in to the shore, takes
Marten by the hand, and calls upon him to nfimchaase
(get up); he opens his eyes, and supposes he has only
been sleeping a somewhat sound sleep. The old woman is
aroused in the same way, and restored to life by Glooscap's
super .\?tural power.

Tbve c resides in the wigwam at which they arrive, an old
man with his wife; this old man is a distinguished kcn^p'
(warrior), and is well ve-sed in the magical art. He enter-
tains his guest in a hospitable manner, but feels disposed
to measure swords with hin. ',; rial of his skill in the same
art of magic ; he determines to freeze him, if possible. So,
going out as the evening advances, he brings in an armful of
wood, and remarks dryij^ that there is every prospect of a
cold night, as the sky is red. So the two sit and converse ;
but the cold becomes so intense that the parties are all
keeled up except the master of the house and his guest.
Glooscap p.v s no attenlion to the cold, though about

midnight it -uts out the fire completely.

Next morning

276

MICMAC INDIAN LEGENDS.

Glooscap invites his friend to feast with him that evening,
having had a small lodge erected for himself on the day of
his arrival ; his friend comes. A good supply of wood is
secured, and the old woman and Marten are instructed to
put in and pile on all the clothes and furs at command, as
there will be a trial of strength in the frost line during the
night.

After the festival, a blazing fire is made, and the parties
become engaged in eager conversation; then the cold comes
on more and more intense, until the poles of the wigwam
fairly snap, and every particle of fire is stifled out, and the
old grandmother and Marten, notwithstanding their warm
wrappers, yield up the ghost. But the two men continue
their conversation, as though nothing were the matter, until
morning. Then, giving the frozen parties a shake, he tells
them they are overdoing the business of sleep, and calls
upon them to rise, — which they do.

Glooscap now inquires where the town is to which their
kemip' belongs, and is informed that it is on the seashore, at
the mouth of the river, hard by. So he and his companions
go forward in their canoe to the town. There is a chiet
residing there ; but Glooscap does not go to him at first, as
he has 'nkiilamooksis (an uncle on his mother's side) to whom
he intends to make his first visit. This uncle turns out to be
a miserable old bachelor, ugly, decrepit, and infirm ; his looks
are so horrid that he has always failed in wooing and win-
ning, — the young ladies of the village will not look upon
him. His name is Mikchikch' (Tortoise). He is not only
ugly, but poor; and his clothes are soiled and tattered.
When they arrive, the old fellow is seated out-of-doors,
unishing off a salmon-spear. He seems delighted to meet
his old friend, and gives him a cordial reception, the best
place in the wigwam, and a good supper.

Word goes round the village that a distinguished stranger
has arrived, — even Glooscap himself ; and preparations are
made for a feast and a dance. A crier is sent round to

CLOOSCAP DESERTED BY HIS COMRADES 277

make proclamation to that effect; this he does by shouting
at the top of his voice, '< How! how! how! "

The chief who resides there has two unmarried daughters
-both young and beautiful; and Glooscap advises his uncl^
to sohct the hand of one of them in marriage. But he coolly
informs h.s friend that that is a subj.c^ concerning which he
has .ong ago abandoned all thoughts. But Glooscap offers
to lend h,m his dress and influence, and the offer is accepted

belt (the belt bemg more especially the seat of magic), the
Old. ugly Tortoise is transformed into a young and beautiful
beau. - attracting the attention of all parties, and more
especially of the marriageable daughters. They take him
for Glooscap himself, -the veritable Glooscap keeping well
away from the feast, and rolling himself complete^ up i„
the skms wh.ch form the sleeping-furniture of the wigwam

Torto.se mvites one of the chief's daughters to dance with
h.m. The men and women dance together, round and round
m a crcle. according to the custom; each one places his
female partner m front of himself, and each chases the other
round ma Jrcle ; the musician stands in the centre, and

12,TV ''"' ^''' "P°" '''' ^^-^-^^- (piece of
birch), to he m/-....,.,,, which he utters like a monotonous

grunt whne the dancers keep time as they pursue thei

Tit; u r'. '" ''"^""^ '''' *° ^-^ p-'"-- ^^^^-^^

Ihat W.1 do"), and they fall out of the ranks. Soon
after the old man goes home to his own lodge, and reports
the state of affairs to his friend Glooscap. The latto^ u'rg
h.m to follow up his advantage, and boldly ask the old cl^cf
for h.s daughter m marriage. But he declines the advice;
he W.11 be d.scovered; the cheat will be avenged, and he
will lose his life as the result.

Tortoise now says, " I shall quit this place, and go on "
Glooscap says, "Whither will you go?" "Anywhere and
ever e,e, , ,he answer. "Well, listen to L, Uncle"
says Glooscap. "I will bestow immortality upon you,-

El *

ji (

:iii

278

MI CM AC INDIAN LEGENDS.

you shall never die ; you may live on the land, and the
water shall not drown you ; although your head may be
cut off, it shall not kill you, and your heart shall continue
to beat, even though your body be chopped in pieces."

With this Mikchikch'took his departure, and has ever since
led a solitary life.

[Related by Nancy Jeddore, May 17, 1870.]

ii'

the
y be
;inue

INDIAN CHIEFS VISIT TO THE KING OF IRANCE. 279

jince

XLvn.

AN INDIAN CHIEF'S VISIT TO THE KING OF

FRANCE.

OHORTLY after the country was discovered by the
^^ French, an Indian named Sihnoodavva' was taken to
Planchean' (France) as a curiosity. Among other curious
adventures, he was prevailed upon to exhibit the Indian
mode of killing and curing game. A fat ox or deer was
brought out of a beautiful park and handed over to the
Indian ; he was provided with all the necessary implements,
and placed within an enclosure of ropes, through which no
person was allowed to pass, but around which multitudes
were gathered to witness the butchering operations of the
savage. He shot the animal with a bow, bled him, skinned
and dressed him, sliced up the meat, and spread it out on
flakes to dry ; he then cooked a portion and ate it, and in
order to exhibit the whole process, and to take a mischievous
revenge upon them for making an exhibition of him, he went
into a corner of the yard and eased himself before them all.

[Related May, 1870.]

28o

MICMAC INDIAN LEGENDS,

XLVIII.
A LITTLE BOY CATCHES A WHALE.

AN old man and woman living by themselves once heard
an unusual rapping, but could not tell exactly where it
was. They looked to see if they could discover the cause,
and after a while they found that the noise proceeded from
under ground. They dug away the earth, and discovered a
small boy, whom they took home and cared for. The old
people were poor, and hardly able to hunt for themselves ;
but they willingly took upon themselves the additional bur-
den of bringing up this boy. They were well repaid for
their labor and painstaking. The boy grew rapidly, and was
very expert in fishing and hunting. One day, towards win-
ter, he told the old people that he would go a fishing. He
returned after a while, and reported that he had caught a
whale. They hastened to the shore to look for it ; but when
they arrived there, all they saw was a pile of very large
oysters. They brought out a stone knife, opened the oysters,
and feasted upon them. Then the old woman suddenly
became inspired with the inclination to dance, and she
danced round the oysters with all her might.* After she
had been wrought up into a furor, one of the oysters began
to expand and increase in its dimensions until it had ex-
tended about thirty mooskiinlgtinegalooch (cubits),^ and had
assumed the exact appearance of a whale. All now set to
work to slice up the carcass and preserve it for future use.

^ Mooskiinigiincgalooch means, literally, " elbows placed on ;" this is the Indian
mode of measuring.

■ itBfii ^cmmmimmm

•^ -XCrnw i Wuan iw WJ i u. ij wi ii ji iiii . .

IJIUHWH.I|IIUI.1IU,I . H 1 1 IW»Wia'.'WPWl«,.|. .|WMWIIii| .WWIWilllJU IHI f MM

A LITTLE BOY CATCHES A WHALE.

281

After a while the old woman died ; she was properly pre-
pared, rolled up in birch-burk, and placed in the family
vault. After some time her husband went to visit her ; the
bark swathing was removed, and he saw her face once more.
He was so delighted that he leaped and danced for joy.

282

MICMAC INDIAN LEGENDS.

XLIX.

A CHAPEL BUILT WITHOUT HANDS.

[Near the city of Quebec is a chapel dedicated to
Saint Ann, to which the Indians in Nova Scotia are in the
habit of mailing pilgrimages. The tradition among them
is that it was erected by miracle.]

L-l;

/'"^NCE upon a time there was a French vessel, manned
^^^ by Frenchmen, cruising on the ocean. A violent
storm arose, which became so furious that all hope of saving
the vessel was abandoned. She had sprung a leak, and
was rapidly foundering. The captain now called all hands
together, and informed them that there was no hope but
in God ; he commanded them to fasten the hatches and
hatchways, and then invited them to go to the cabin and
unite with him in prayer. This was done. The captain
read from the prayer-book, and they all followed in earnest
supplications. Soon the water ceased to increase in the
vessel ; after a while she stopped rocking, and lay perfectly
quiet. The captain took an auger and bored a hole in the
side ; no water came in. He bored another lower down ;
still no water. He tried again, boring in the bottom of the
vessel ; still no water. The hatchway was now removed, and
to their surprise, no water was to be seen ; but they were close
to a forest, by the side of a highway, and near at hand was
a large stone chapel with a cross on the top of the steeple.
The great, ponderous door was closed. The ground was
paved with broken flint-stones. The crew, with the captain
at their head, now disembarked, and at his direction took off
their shoes, rolled up their trousers' legs, and walked over

A CHAPEL BUILT WITHOUT HANDS.

283

the sharp pavement on their bare knees to the chapel-door,
which opened to them of its own accord as they approached.
They entered; there was no one in the chapel, and no
one near. They remained there fasting and praying until
they all died ; but the captain of the vessel, previous to his
death, wrote out all the particulars of their experience, and
left them for the information and benefit of those who might
come after. Some of the inhabitants, passing that way soon
after, were astonished at the sight of the chapel, and the
vessel lying near. They entered with reverence and awe,
and discovered the dead bodies of the crew, and the writing
left by the captain. The chapel was immediately occupied,
and has remained there unto this day. The vessel decayed
after a while ; but a model of it was constructed, and hung
upon the chapel-door outside, where it still remains. After
the country passed into the hands of the English heretics,
they made an audacious attempt to burn this chapel ; but
they were defeated. They filled it with hay, which they set
on fire; but though the hay burned readily and rapidly,
the fire made no impression on the chapel. They tried a
second time ; they filled it with shavings and chips, and set
fire to them. These burned, as the hay had done, and a few
marks of smoke were left on the walls and ceiling; but the
chapel stood intact. They now desisted from any further
attempts to destroy it

Wonderful miracles are performed at this chapel. The
blind receive their sight, the deaf hear, and the lame walk ;
there is a pile of crutches and canes left by those who have
been restored. A white dove hovers over the altar, but no
fastening sustains it.

[Related by Andrew Stephens, and confirmed by others.]

284

MICMAC INDIAN LEGENDS.

A WIZARD CARRIES OFF GLOOSCAP'S
HOUSEKEEPER.

ONCE, when Glooscap was living near Menagwes, he
went out on a six weeks' hunting-excursion. While
he was gone, a wizard named Winpe came along with his
wife and child ; and finding the Kescgoocskw and Marten
by themselves in the wigwam, he tool: them prisoners and
carried them on to Pasummookwoddy, thence over to Grand
Manan and Yarmouth, and then on to Newfoundland,. before
Glooscap overtook and recovered them.

Meantime Glooscap had gone on as far as Quaco. He
returned home just in time to see the canoe pushing off from
shore with the captives; so he called to the old woman to
send back his little dogs, which she had taken with her. She
accordingly placed the two tiny animals upon the dish in which
the Indians toss their dice, put the dish upon the waterj and
then gave it a push towards the shore ; straight forward it flew,
bearing its precious burden, which reached the master's hand
in safety.

Glooscap then remained a long time by himself before he
set out to release the captives, — some accounts say three
months, some say seven years. He finally determined to
pursue and bring them home. But he was not going to take
the trouble of following all the way on foot; he had horses
at his beck, that could convey him through the water. He
went down to the shore and sang ; soon his obsequious
servant, the whale, made his appearance, and awaited his
pleasure. He descended and tried him ; but the whale,

I'lbr^

wmm

W/ZAND CAA'A'/ES OFF CLOOSCAFS HOUSEKEEPER. 285

being too small, sank under Glooscap's weight. Glooscap
then called another, a larger one, which came alongside;
knowing her to be sufficiently strong, he stepped off on her
back. She pushed on until she began to mistrust that the
land was near. She had no wish to run ashore ; so she called
and asked, MoonastabdknnkwJjcanook ? (" Does not the land
begin to show itself in the form of a bowstring?") Glooscap
replied that they were still far from land. So on she went,
until the water was so shoal that they could hear the clams
singing. She could not understand what they said ; but they
were exhorting her to throw Glooscap off and drown him, as
they were his enemies. Bootup asked Glooscap what the
clams were saying in their song. " They tell you to hurry
me on as fast as possible," said Glooscap. So the whale
put on all steam, and was suddenly grounded high and
dry. " Alas, my grandchild ! " said she, " you have been my
death. I can never get out of this." " Never you mind,
Noogumce," said Glooscap ; " I '11 set you right." So on
leaping ashore he put the end of his bow against the whale,
and with one push sent her far out to sea. Boottip lighted
her pipe, and pushed leisurely for home, smoking as she
went.

Glooscap now began to search for the trail of his enemy,
Winpe, who carried off his family. He came to a deserted
wigwam, but he found a small birchen dish which had be-
longed to Marten ; knowing the age of the dish, he gained
all the information he desired. The foe had been gone
from this place three months, tnoving on to the eastward.
Glooscap pushed on in pursun, nd in due time arrived
at Ogumkegeak' (Liverpool), where he discovered another
deserted wigwam. But looking round, he found one wretch-
edly poor-looking lodge, with a decrepit old hag in it
doubled down with age, and apparently helpless. She was
covered with vermin, and earnestly requested him to aid her
in getting rid of them. Glooscap knew well what all this
meant: she was not what she seemed, but an artful sorceress,

286

M/CM/IC INDIAN LEGENDS.

:*;'

his deadly foe, bent on his destruction. He said nothing,
however, but complied with her reciucst. She bent her head
forward, and he soon discovered that her hair was filled with
live toads. He picked them out one by one, anrl pretended
to kill them by cracking a cranberry each time .cen his

teeth ; the toads he placed under a large di.;!i that stood by,
bottom upwards. The old woman was soon mesmerized by
the gentle and soporific manipulations of the mighty person-
age who had taken her in hand, and was soon snoring soundly
on the boughs. Glooscap went on. Soon the sorceress
awoke, and found that she had been outgeneralled. She was
furious, and pursued him in her rage, determined to be
avenged. Her magical servants had escaped from their
cage, and were hopping about in all directions ; they soon
covered the face of the earth.

Glooscap, however, was in no danger, and he th'^reforc had
no fear. He carried in his bosom two little do- it much

bigger than mice, but which could in an instan.

.me the

size and fury of the largest animals of their genus. As soon
as the woman approached, Glooscap unleashed the hounds.
He told them beforehand that .as soon as he commanded
them not to growl, to spring upon her; and the more he
called them ofif, the more furiously they were to tear her.
She paused at their formidable appearance, shrank back
from their growling, and called to him to take care of his
dogs. He shouted lustily to them to be quiet; but they raged
all the more furiously, and soon tore her in pieces. He
now moved on until he came to the top of a high mountain,
where he could see a long way off. In the distance he saw
a large wigwam. There an old couple resided who were
wizards, and who hated Glooscap. They had two daughters,
whom they sent out to encounter him. They gave to them
a portion of sausage made of bear's-meat, to put round his
neck ; this was to kill him, and they were to bring to their
parents for food a similar portion of his intestines. Glooscap
gave his dogs the hint, and let them go ; as soon as they

'II.

;

WIZARD CARRIES OFF GLOOSCAFS HOUSEKEEPER. 287

began to growl at the girls, he commanded them to be quiet,
telling them that these girls were his sisters. The dogs riislied
on, and tore them to pieces. He took out the part the father
desired, and, looking inio the wigwam, said, "Was this the
food you wanted?" Throwing it around the old man's neck,
he caught him up and went on ; lie soon reached the main sea,
and fullowing the shore, he came to the oUl camping-places
of VVlnpc. He ahvpys examined the zvHclilavcdlakftnchccji'il
(little bark dishes) left behind, w^hich gave him all ihc infor-
mation he needed; he found that he was rapidly g'lUiing
upon the enemy. He now went on; but before he reached
the Strait of Canso ' he had to call up one of his marine
horses to ferry him over, and then went on. Passing down
the coast of Ooniimage, he arrived in due time at Uktutun
(Cape North), and iound that the parties had left three days
before for Uktukamkw' (Newfoundland). Again he sang
and charmed a whale to his aid, which (perhaps we should
say xvho, since he has reason and intelligence) conveyed him
safely to the other side. He now came up to where the party
passed the previous night, and pushing on, soon overtook
his old housekeeper, weak and tottering with ill-usage and
hunger, and carrying on her back the starved and attenuated
form of Marten. They were lagging behind, unable to keep
pace with their persecutors, whom, however, they were obliged
to follow. Marten, having his face turned backward, was the
first to discover his friend, to whom he shouted most lustily
for help and food. But the old woman would not believe
that Glooscap was so near. "Your brother is not here,"
she said despondingly ; "we left him far, far behind." But
Marten, catching another glimpse, called out at the top of
his vo'\Q.(i, Nsesako' ! nsesnko' ! ookwojrgnneme zvcloo' ("My
brother, feed me with the marrow of a moose's shin-bones ! ")
The old lady now looked back and saw her friend, and fell
fainting with joy.

When she came to, she gave an account of the capture

^ It was near this strait that he found his uncle Mil<chichk.

288

MICMAC INDIAN LEGENDS.

1 !

i I

and the cruel treatment she had received. " Never mind,"
said Glooscap, " I '11 punish him."

Before they came up to the place where Winpe had
pitched his tent, Gk>oscap gave Marten his instructions, and
concealed himself near at hand. Marten had to fetch water
for the party, and tend the baby in his swing, and carry it
about on his back. He went for water when directed, and
then, in accordance with his instructions, put into it all kinds
of filth. Uksaa ! ("Horrors!") exclaimed Winpe, and
ordered him to go for more. Marten made a spring and
tossed the baby into the fire, then ran for dear life towards
the place where Glooscap was concealed, ^\\o\x\\Vi^, Nsesako' !
nsesako' ! (" My brother ! my brother ! ") Winpe pursued him,
vowing vengeance, and telling him exultingly, "Your brother
cannot help you. He is far enough away, where we left
him; and, though you burn the world up, I'll seize and
kill you."

Glooscap leaped up from his hiding-place and confronted
the foe, who stopped suddenly at the unexpected sight, but
offered battle, and challenged Glooscap to the fight. Step-
ping back a few paces, Winpe prepared for the conflict by
rousing all his magical powers. He swelled out his cor-
poreal dimensions until his head almost reached the clouds,
and his limbs were large and lusty in proportion. It was now
Glooscap's turn to put on strength, and he overtopped his
foe by mighty odds; his head went far up above the clouds.
WTnpe, seeing this, owned that he was beaten. " You have
conquered and killed mc ! " he exclaimed. Glooscap gave
him one tap with his bow, using no other weapon, and the
huge form of his foe tumbled down dead. Winpe's wife was
not molested, but she was ordered to leave immediately, and
go anywhere she pleased ; she accordingl\' decamped.

Glooscap found on the island of Newfoundland a village of
Indians, friends of his, called Kwemoo (Loons). As in all
such cases, these Indians were at one time people, and at
another time real loons. They entertained their king and

WIZARD CARRIES OFF GLOOSCAPS HOUSEKEEPER.

•89

benefactor, who bestowed many favors and wholesome coun-
sel upon them, and directed them to think of him and to
call for him when they needed his aid. This is the origin
of the shrill and peculiar cry, or howl, of the loon ; when
they utter this cry, they are calling upon Glooscap.^

Leaving his island friends, the Loons, Glooscap called up
one of his sea-horses and crossed back to Nova Scotia,
landing at Piktook. Here he found a large village, — some-
where about a hundred wigwams. Here he found, too, an
ancient v/orthy, whom he honored with the title of uncle, but
who was old and ugly in his looks, and had never been mar-
ried, — the young ladies of the tribe all shunning and hating
him. Glooscap went to his lodge and became his guest.
Glooscap, young and handsome in appearance, was an object
of attraction to all, — more especially to the unmarried young
ladies, who each and all began to speculate upon the prospect
of attracting his regards and winning him for a husband. A
feast was provided, and games were celebrated ; but Glooscap
kept within doors, going out neither as a performer nor as a
looker-on ; but he sent out his uncle, whose name was
MikchTchk (Tortoise), lending him his belt. Girded with
this belt, Mikcbichk was no longer an ugly, deformed, de-
crepit old man, but a sprightly, handsome youth. He could
leap and run, play ball, and wrestle with the best of them.

But he got himself into difficulty. Having seized the ball,
he was running for life to the post, all the rest after him to
seize him, when, dodging right and left to avoid his pursuers,
he was driven straight up to his own lodge, with pursuers to
the right of him, pursuers to the left of him, and pursuers

1 The conveis.-ition was held between the chief of tlie Loons and Glooscap,
Three times the former made the circuit of the lake on the wing, approaching
Glooscap every time, as if proffering a request. Fin.ally, Glooscap told him to
alight. He did so, .and w.as directed to utter a shrill, doleful cry ; and .as often,
evjr afterwards, as he should want help from the same source, to think of him
and call in the same manner. When the Indians hear this dismal cry of
the loon, resembling the howl of a dog, they s.iy, " He is calling upon
Glooscap."

»9

--— 'ajJUiUIJUll

290

MICMAC INDIAN LEGENDS.

in the rear. There was nothing left him to do, in order
to escape, but to spring sheer over the lodge. This he
attempted, but he missed his aim, and was held dangling
across the ridge-pole, just over the chimney-hole. Glooscap
arose quietly, piled on the fir-boughs, raised a great smoke,
which nearly stifled the Tortoise, and so stained his coat
that the marks have never been obliterated. " You will
kill me, nitlooks (my nephev shouted the Tortoise.

"No, I will not," answered Glooscap; "but I will render
you very tenacious of life." In pursuance of this benevolent
design, he took a sharp stake, disembowelled the poor fel-
low as he dangled over the smoke, and fed the entrails
to his dogs. He then helped him down and healed him,
assuring him that he could live as independently as he
chose, — using food if he could get it, and doing without
it if he could not get it. " Though they crush your back
and sides, they shall not be able to destroy your life; and
though cutting off your head will indeed kill you in the end,
you shall be able to live a very long time, even without
a head." After these adventures, Glooscap and his train
departed.

The next adventure mentioned in our narrative occurred
at Partridge Island. Here he met with another worthy, of
unnatural birth and supernatural nurture, and of vast super-
natural powers. His mother fell a prey to the cannibal
prppensities of an ugly giant; and he was taken alive from
his mother after her death, thrown into a deep spring, where
alone and unattended he came to maturity, and afterwards
came forth from his place of concealment to avenge the
death of his parent, and to go forth as a deliverer of the
oppressed and a general benefactor to his race. His
name, which describes the manner of his birth, was
Kitpooseagunow.

Glooscap halted at the lodge of this personage (it were
hardly fair to call him a man), and he proposed to his guest
in the evening to go out fishing by torchlight. The canoe,

■■■■

/',

ll'/ZAIiD CARRIES OFF GLOOSCAP^S HOUSEKEEPER. 29 1

the paddle, and the spear were all made of stone. The canoe
wTis large and heavy; but Kltpooseagunow tossed it upon
his head and shoulders as though it were made of bark,
and launched it into the bay. As they stepped on board'
Glooscap asked which should take the stern paddle, and
which the prow and the spear. Kltpooseagunow replied,
" I will take the spear." Glooscap was agreed, and away
they pushed for a fish. Soon a whale glided by, and our
magical hero struck him with his spear, and tossed him into
the canoe as though he were a trout,— equal to him of the
legends of another land, of whom the poet says : —

" His hook he baited with a dragon's tail,
And sat upon a rock and bobbed for whale."

Having <' bagged the game," he said: " There, that will do'
Let us return home." Reaching the shore, he took a stone
knife, and split the whale from snout to tail into two equal
parts, tossed one half to his guest, and took the other him-
self. Each carried home his portion, roasted it for his
supper, and capped the climax by eating all at one meal

Before going farther up the bay, Glooscap now crossed
over to Utkoguncheech ^Cape Blomidon). There he arrayed
and adorned his aged female companion, decked her out
with beautiful beads and strings of zvompum, makin- her
young, active, and beautiful, and for her sake makin- all
those beautiful minerals for which the " hoary cape ""has
been so long celebrated. My aged friend, Thomas 15oonis
who related this narrative to me, assured me with much
animation that he had seen these beautiful minerals with his
own eyes, - emphasizing his assertion by saying in broken
iingl.sh. "Glooscap, he makum all dese pretty stone" I
allowed the worthy man to enjoy his own opinions without
let or hindrance from me, only urging him to hasten on to
the end of his tale.

His next halt was on the north side of the bay, at
Spenser s Island. There Glooscap engaged in a hunting-

M:.

1 .',*■
If I

i ! ■;
I M , ,

I' !

292

MICMAC INDIAN- LEGENDS.

expedition on a somewhat large scale. A large drove of
animals was surrounded and driven down to the shore,
slaughtered, and their flesh sliced up and dried. All the
bones were afterwards chopped up fine, placed in a large
stone kettle, and boiled so as to extract the marrow,
which was carefully stored away for future use. Having
finished the boiling process, and having no further use for
the kettle, he turned it bottom upwards and left it there,
where it remains in the form of a small round island, called
still by the Indians after its ancient name, Ootcomul (his
kettle ; that is, Glooscap's kettle).

He now visited a place lying between Partridge Island and
the shores of Cumberland Bay, and running parallel to the
River Hebert. It is called by the Indians Owokun, but in
English River Hcbcrt. He now pitched his tent near Cape
d'Or, and remained there all winter ; and that place still
bears the name of Wigwam (House). To facilitate the
passing of his people back and forth from Partridge Island
to the shore of Cumberland Bay, he had thrown up a cause-
way, which still remains, and is called by the white people
" the Boar's Back." ' It is this ridge which gives the Indian
name Owokun to the place and to the river. In this place
he found Indians, and carefully attended to their interests.

In the ensuing spring, while he was out hunting with his
dogs, a moose was started, and the dogs pursued him to the
land's end at Cape Chignecto. There the moose took to
the water and struck boldly out to sea, whither the dogs,
with all their magic, could not pursue him. But they seated
themselves on their haunches, raised their fore-paws, pricked
forward their ears, and howled loudly and piteously at the

1 The al)ove incident is misplaced. Glooscap, in returning from Uktiikamk,
came to 15ay Verte, and crossed over the portage to Cumberland Hay. There
the old lady desired him to let her go across to Partridge Island, while he took
the canoe round (for, having the family with him, he no longer rode on a whale,
but came in a canoe). He agreed to this, but stepped across himself before he
sent her, and raised the causeway, now called Hoar's Hack, for her to go over.
She went across on this road, while he took the canoe around.

WIZARD CARRIES OFF GLOOSCAP'S HOUSEKEEPER. 293

loss of their prey. Glooscap arrived on the spot in time
to witness the interesting spectacle. He stopped the moose,
and turned him into an island, which is known as the Isle of
Hant; changing the dogs into rocks, he left them there fixed
in the same attitude, where they are to be seen this day,
watching the moose.

Near Cape d'Or he fed his dogs with the lights of the
moose ; large portions of this food were turned into rocks,
and remain there to this day; the place is called Oopunk.
Glooscap now took the old woman and set her down, and
telling her to remain there, he turned her into a mountain,
which is to be seen to this day ; but he told her that wlien
he reached his island home in the far west, she would be
there with him. He then left the country, and never came
back to it again. He went on to his beautiful isle in the
west; and when he arrived, and had fixed his dwelling and
furnished it, there in her place was found his faithful house-
keeper and her little attendant, Marten.

[Related to me in Micmac by Thomas Boonis, of Cum-
berland, June 10, 1870.]

294

MICMAC INDIAN LEGENDS.

LI.

THE HISTORY OF THE CELEBRATED CHIEF,

ULGIMOO.i

IN ancient times the Kwedcchcs and the Micmacs inhabited
this country together, on terms of friendship and amity.
But in time a quarrel arose; two boys, sons of the respective
chieftains, quarrelled, and one killed the other. This was
productive of a long series of conflicts, in which the Micmacs,
being the more numerous, were usually victorious.

During those wars a celebrated chief arose among the
Micmacs, whose name was Ulglmoo, of whom many strange
things were related. He drove the Kwcdeches out of the
region on the south side of the Bay of Fundy, they having
been compelled to cross the bay in their flight from the
enemy; and he urged them on farther and farther towards
the north, finally driving them up to Montreal.

Ulgimoo lived to be an hundred and three years old ; he
died twice, having come to life after he had been dead all
winter; so says the tradition.

He had a brother much younger than he, whose name was
Mejelabegadasich (Tied-in-a-hard-knot) ; this name indicated
his bravery, as he could not be overcome. He was head
chief after his elder brother died.

Ulgimoo had one daughter, but no son. This daughter
married a man belonging to what is now called Long Island,
in the township of Horton.

The Kwcdeches having retired to Fort Cumberland, and
thence on to Tantama' (Sackville), before their enemies, and

1 Either Ulgimoo or some one of his descendants appears in English history
under the name of Agimow.

fim

the

/I/STOKV OF THE CELEBRATED CHIEF, ULgImOO. 295

thence on beyond Petcootkweak (Peticodiac), Ulgimoo built
a mound and fortification at the place now called Salsbury,
where the mound still remains.

This war lasted for many years, since, when many of the
men had been killed off, time was required to raise another
race of warriors, who were carefully educated to keep alive
the spirit of retaliation. This brought Ulgimoo into the field
after he had become very old.

He was a great magician, and one of his principal sources
of magic was the pipe. Mis store of tobacco would some-
times become exhausted; but his tconiul (tutelar deity),
which was in his case Kcoonik' (the Otter), would go a
long distance and bring him any amount he desired. Being
a magician, he could hear and see what was going on very
far off, as he possessed all the boasted powers of our modern
clairvoyants, adepts in mesmerism and spirit-rappings. Thus,
when he was about one hundred and three years old, he
learned by means of his mysterious art that a war-party,
comprising several braves and wizards, was on the move to
attack his village. He was now very feeble, and bent with
age ; but on the morning of the day when the attack was
to be made, he gave his warriors false information of an
attack in another place, and so all the men left the vil-
lage, — the aged and infirm Ulgimoo alone excepted. By
and by the war-party made their appearance, and, ascer-
taining how matters stood, were by no means in haste to
begin operations. They came to this old man, but did
not recognize him. They took him prisoner, and con-
sulted what to do. One of the wizards suggested that
they would better proceed with caution, as he strongly sus-
pected that he was the celebrated chief Ulgimoo; but he
was laughed at for his fears and cautions, and the old
man was tied, bound to a tree, a quantity of dried wood
piled round him, and the torch applied. As soon as the
fire began to blaze, he made one spring, and was clear of
all cords and green withes, tall, straight, young, and active.

29^

MIC MAC INDlAiV LEGENDS.

and ready for fight. " There ! " said the man who had given
his fellows the timely caution ; " did n't I tell )'ou it was
UlgTmoo? Will you not believe me now? In a moment
your heads will be off." It was even so. One blow despatched
him, and similar blows fell upon the rest; and only three of
the whole army of several hundred men escaped. UlgTmoo
did not receive a scratch. The three that were not killed
he took prisoners; he cut their cars, slit their noses and their
cheeks, then bade them go home and carry the joyful tidings
of their defeat, and be sure to tell that they were all slain by
one Micmac, one hundred and three years old.^

It was the beginning of winter when he died ; he had
directed his people not to bury him, but to build a high
flake and lay him on it. This they did, and all left the place.
He had told them to come back the following spring. They
did so ; and to their astonishment they found him alive and
walking about, — exhibiting, however, proofs that his death
was real, and not a sham. A hungry marten had found the
corpse, and had gnawed an ugly-looking hole through one
of the old man's cheeks; he still exhibited the gaping
wound.

The second time he died he was buried ; and a small
mound near the river at Amherst Point, in Cumberland, has
the honor of being his reputed resting-place. The day
before his death he informed his friends that he would die
on the morrow, and that they must bury him; but after one
night they must open the grave, and he would come out and
remain with them forever. He gave them a sign by which
they would know when to open the grave. The day would
be clear, and there would be not even a single cloud to be
seen ; but from the clear, open sky there would come a peal
of thunder just at the time when the spirit would reanimate
his clay.

1 When his men returned at night, they found the evidences of his victory ;
he was, however, no longer a warrior, but had settled back into an infirm old
man, walking about bending over a staff.

I/ISTOKV OF THE CELEBRATED CHIEF, ULGiMOO. 297

But he did not rise ; his friends and his tribe preferred to
let him remain in his rcsting-phice. They not only did not
dig him up, but took special care that he should not be
able to get out of his grave, even should he come to life.
Hence they dug his grave deep, and piled stones upon him
to keep him down. The plan succeeded ; he has never risen
from the dead.

[Related by Thomas Boonis.]

298

MIC MAC INDIAN LEGENDS.

LII.

ATTACK ON FORT PESEGITK' (WINDSOR) BY

THE INDIANS.

AFTER the Enj^lish had conquered the French, and
had occupied Fort I'escquid ^ (Windsor), parties of
Indians still sympathized with the French, and being un-
friendly to the English, were encamped in the neighborhood.
They finally mustered up near the Fort, upon which they
planned a descent.

A few nights previous to their attack, an English lady, the
wife of an officer residing at the Fort, had an impressive
dream ; she dreamed that they were attacked and overcome
by the Indians. She drew up an account of her dream, and
sent it to the Governor, who had recently arrived from
Halifax. He laughed at her superstitious whims, tore up
the paper, and threw it into the fire. Had he heeded the
warning, he might have taken measures to avert the calamity;
but God had deprived him of prudence, as a punishment for
his cruelty to an Indian woman. This had happened in the
following manner: On his way from Halifax, he and his
company had passed a solitary wigwam, where one woman
was living alone, her husband being at the time out in the
forest hunting. The Governor directed the woman to be
seized ; she was enceinte, and near the time of her delivery.
He told the people that he had n^ver seen an Indian shed
tears, and he would try whether tears could be extorted
from their captive's eyes. She was bound according to his

1 Both spellings of this proper name are retained as in the manuscript.
Phegitk' is the Indian form, and Pesequid the English, which Dr. Rand in his
Micmac Dictionary spells Pesegivid. — Ed.

ATTACK' Oy FORT PESEGITK' [WIXDSOR).

299

directions, and one of her breasts was cut off and roasted in
her presence ; but the woman neither wept nor groaned.
They then cut off the other breast and roasted it before her,
but with the sanie effect. A junk was then cut from the
flesh of her thigh, and placed on the fire; but the woman
would not weep, and would not please her tormentors even
with a groan.

At this stage of the proceedings the captain of the com-
pany came up, and inquired what was going on. lie was a
mulatto, — a kind-hearted fellow, — and was shocked at the
barbarity of the Governor and his minions. lie instantly
drew his sword, and put the poor woman out of her misery
by running her through. He then remonstrated with the
Governor, and severely reprimanded him for his cruelty.
" You have been invested with authority," said he, " not for
the purpose of cruelty, — not that you should torture those
whom it may be your duty to put to death. If life must be
taken, let it be done as gently as possible, and not with the
inflicting of unnecessary pain."

The generous conduct of this officer, and his bold remon-
strance with the Governor, endeared his memory to the
Indians; but they rejoiced that the cruel Governor met the
fate that he deserved. He laughed at the fears and warnings
of the officer's wife when she sent him an account of her
dream, and was consequently unprepared for the attack,
which was accomplished suddenly and in the night-time.
Many of the English were killed, and the rest were taken
prisoners. Among the latter was the lady who had had the
dream ; after having been detained for some weeks in cap-
tivity, she was delivered up to the French at Quebec, whither
she and others had been conveyed.

[Related by Tom Boonis, June 11, 1870.]

300

MJCMAC INDIAN LEGENDS.

LIII.

■\ y t

THE ADVENTURES OF ABLEEGUMOOCH.

AHLEl'XiU MOOCH (the Rabbit) lived with his .jrand-
mother ; he found it no easy matter, especially in
winter, when the snow and ice prevailed, to provide for the
wants of his household. Runninj^ through the forest one
day, he came suddenly upon a solitary wigwam, which he
entered, and found inhabited by a man of the Otter tribe.
The lodj^e was on the bank of a river, and the smooth
road of ice extended from the door down to the water. An
old woman resided in the lodge with Keoonik' (the Otter) ;
as soon as Mr. Rabbit entered, she was directed to set
her Cooking-machinery in motion. The Otter took up his
hooks on which he was wont to string the fish when he
caught them, and proceeded to fetch a mess for dinner.
Placing himself at the top of a glassy path that led clown
to the water, he adroitly slijjped along till he reached the
water, when he plunged in, and soon returned with a bounti-
ful store of eels, which he handed over to the presiding
matron. These were soon passed through the preliminary
manipulations ; and the fire and the kettle afterwards did
their work, and dinner was ready. " My sa'.es! -claimed
the Rabbit, " if that isn't an easy ^' ., ^ting a living !

Can I not do that as well as the Ott Of course ^ aw, —

why not? " Whereupon he invited . host t be his guest
on the third day after that, and ddama 'nsk kctkcwopk
(goes home).

" Come on ! " said he to his grandmother the next day ;
" let us remove our wigwam down the lake." She acceded
to the proposal, and he selected a site just like that of his

THE ADVENTURllS OF A/irEKGCMOOC/r

301

fricntl the Otter. Having prepared the house, he next pro-
ceedcil to the construction of the " sUi)." The weather was
freezing' cold, and so he poured water alon^j on the bank,
whicli was soon con<;caled ; and a road of ice was completed,
adown which he was ambitious to slide, otter-fashion, in his
fishin^-cxpcdition.

The next day, according' to appointment, his expected
guest came. 7\blcegumooch gravely told his grandmother to
set her cooking-apparatus in motion. " Hut," said liio old
lady, "what arc we to cook?" "Oh, I will sec to that!"
said he. Whereupon he prepared a nabc^n'in (stick upon
which to string the eels), and proceeded to the top of his
ice-way, down which he attempted to slide. Hut he made
a miserable job of it; he hitched and caught and jumped
till he reached the water, into which he plunged. 15ut, alas
for the poor brute! he was there quite out of his clement;
fishinrr was not his trade. The water was cold, and took
away his breath; he struggled, and was almost drowned.
"What on earth ails the fellow?" said the Otter to the old
woman, who was looking on in amazement, " (^h, I suppose
he has seen some one else do this, and thinks he can do it
too." " Oh, come out of that ! " said the Otter to him, " and
hand me your nabo^'iin." Shivering with cold, and rdmost
drowned to boot, the poor Rabbit crawled out of tlie water
and limped into the lodge, where he required a good deal
of nursing before he recovered from the effects of his folly.
Meanwhile the Otter plunged in, and soon returned with a
good load of the desired provision ; but disgusted at the
awkward attempts of the silly Rabbit to perform an operation
beyond his skill and wholly out of his line, he went home
without tasting the meal.

After the Rabbit's recovery from the effects of this expedi-
tion, he found one day, in his perambulations, a wigwam filled
with young women with red head-dresses. They happened
to be a party of the Antawaas (yellow woodpeckers). He
entered the hut, and was politely received ; one of the young

302

MICMAC nVD/AN LEGENDS.

;n";.^

»■ ' \\

ladies rose to do the honors by preparing a meal for the
stranger. She took a small dish, ascendtJ the sides of an
old beech-tree, and by the use of a suitable instrument
soon succeeded in digging out a bounteous supply of such
eating-material as the Indian denominates (ipcJi?)noolthnkazvd
(rice), because of the resemblance these insects bear to the
latter article. This "rice" is soon b<iled and set on for
dinner. " Ah ! " thought the poor Rabbit, " how easily
some folks live ! What is to hinder me from doing the
same? Come over," he added, "and dine "ith me da/
after to-morrow."

The invitation was accepted. The guests arrived at the
time appointed, and the Rabbit undertook to act the Wood-
pecker. So he took the hard iron of an eel-spear, adjusted
it to his head, shinned up the old tree, and began digging
for the rice. Alas ! he made but a small impression on the
wood, found no insects, got his forehead sorely bruised and
torn, and erelong had on the red cap, — for his head was
torn and bleeding ; but he failed in his work. The pretty
Antawaas looked on and laughed. " Pray, what is he trying
to do up there?" she whispered to the old woman at her
side. " Oh, doing, I suppose, what he has seen some one
else do ! " " Oh, come down ! " she said to the Rabbit, " and
give me your dish." He did so, and she soon filled it with
dainty morsels.

But our little hero did not learn wisdom by his folly. He
next attempted to " do the Bear." Entering the tent of his
neighbor one day, he saw how easily the foot of the latter
could supply a meal. The great pot was set on, the Bear
took a knife, and adroitly cut from the sole of his foot a small
piece, which he put into the water and set boiling. Soon
the kettle was full of bear's-meat, which was greedily devoured
and greatly relished by the parties. Ableegiimooch took a
portion of it home, and resolved to supply his table in the
same way. Wh\' should not a Rabbit be ab'e to do what a
Bear can do? He invited hii friend to visit him the day
after kt^tknviipk' (to-morrow).

THE ADVENTURES OF ADLEEGOMOOCH.

303

The appointed day arrived, and Mr. Bear was on hand.
Noogumce, kwisaxual wohii (" Grandmother, set your kettle
a boiling "), said the Rabbit. " But," said the old lady, who
was ever ready with excuses and difficulties, " what arc we to
boil?" " Never you fear," was the answer; " ! will take care
of that." So saying, he seir.ed a small knife, whetted it on
a stone, and began to do as the IBcar had done. But, alas for
his poor little lean toes! little bits of skin an/ fur were all they
yielded; he cut and cut, and haggled his poor heels, but all
in vain, — he could not raise the expected meal. The Bear
looked on, and asked, " What on earth is he trying to do?"
" Oh, doing, I suppose, what he has seen some one else do,"
answered the old lady. " Here! " said the Bear to the Rabbit,
" give me the knife," Seizing it, he adroitly severed a small
portion from the ball of his foot, tossed it into the kettle, and
by the aid of magic and fire it was soon a large piece of
cooked bear's-meat. Poor Ableegiimooch was so maimed
and lamed that it took him a long time to recover.^

1 Evidently this is a poetical version of the old idea that the bear, when
lying in the winter in his half-torpid state, lives by sucking his paws.

5;'

304

MI CM AC hXDIAN LEGENDS.

LIV.

THE HARE ASSUMES THE MAGICIAN, AND

RETALIATES.

lii.'

H;i.

i a

t f

»'< 5

A FTER a while the Rabbit came out in a new form.

was a great magician, and performed wonders. First
he played a trick on the Otter. He went and stole his string
of eels while the Otter was away from home. The latter,
coming in soon after and discovering the theft, set out in
pursuit of the thief. He easily tracked him as he jumped
along, touching the fish to the ground successively as he
jumped. The poor Hare was aware that he was pursued,
and had recourse to a r//se. By a wave of his magic wand
he constructed a deserted camp, and transformed himself into
a small, withered, weak old woman, with sore eyes, hardly
able to move, sitting shivering over a little fire. In dashed
the Otter, having followed the tracks up to that point, and
was amazed to see, instead of the object of his pursuit, a
little wrinkled old woman. " Did you sec a Hare hopping
this way," said the Otter, "trailing after him a string of eels.'"
" Hare! Hare! " was the reply ; "what kind of an animal is
that?" "Why, a little white jumping creature!" "No, I
saw no such animal. But I am so glad you have come, for
I am very poor and cold. Do, please, gather a little wood
for me." This reasonable request could not be refused, and
the Otter suspended his rage and went out to gather wood.
When he returned, to his surprise the little, old, sore-eyed
woman had vanished ; and all he discovered was the impress
of a Rabbit's haunches in the sand. He found that he had
been deceived, and darted off after the enemy with increased
fury and speed.

THE HARE ASSUMES THE MAGICIAN.

30s

He soon came up to an Indian village, where preparations
for a festival were going on. He saw a chief dressed all in
white, walking about with a singular jumping gait, overseeing
the preparations. This was the work of magic, — the pro-
duction of the Hare to elude his pursuer. The Otter walked
up to this chief and made inquiries. "Did you see a Hare
running in this direction, carrying a string of eels? I tracked
him to this village." " Hare ! Hare ! " said the chief, with
an affected puzzled look; "what kind of a thing is that?"
" Oh, a small creature with white skin, long ears, long legs,
and short tail." " No, I have seen no such creature about
here. But come in ! the feast is nearly ready, — come and
partake along with us." The Otter consented. But while
he was off his guard, a stunning blow on the head laid him
stiff on the ground, from which he awoke after a while, as
from a sort of dream ; all had vanishe 1 and to his mor-
tification he found that he had been outwitted a second
time.

But nothing daunted, he renewed the pursuit, determined
not to be cheated again. He was soon gaining rapidly upon
the Hare. But the resources of the latter were not exhausted.
He came up to a large swamp, wliich he transformed into
a lake; and a small knoll, upon which he had leaped, he
turned into a large ship, — a man-of-war. This the Otter saw
wh-^n he reached the bank; the captain, dressed in white, was
pai. .g the deck, and the men were all busy at their work;
rows of cannon protruded from the ship's sides all around.
The Otter attempted to board, but a shower of bullets turned
him back; another and another volley succeeded, and he
made for the shore and escaped. He then gave up the
game, and all collapsed again into the ordinary routine of
forest life.

^Tg^l^W'^ WWWWW P

306

MIC MAC IiYDIAN LEGENDS.

LV.

THE BADGER AND THE STAR-WIVES.

-Hi ' i

A WAY back in the forest dwelt two young men, named
■^"^ Abistanaooch' and Team' (Marten and Moose). Each
of them owned and occupied a separate lodge, and had a
grandmother for housekeeper. Marten was like too many
of all nations, — inclined to live upon the labors and good-
nature of others. He was always at his neighbor's when he
mistrusted the eating process was going forward.

One day Team' had been successful in killing a bear, and
had brought home one back-load of meat ; but he deter-
mined not to let his neighbor know of his success. He
needed his neighbor's kettle, and sent the old lad)^ to borrow
it, but with the injunction not to let him know what they
wanted of it. The kettle was obtained, and the smaller
animal " smelled the rat," and calculated on a share of the
venison. But no ; the others, having used the kettle, washed
it out carefully and sent it back empty. But as the good
woman entered her friend's lodge with the empty kettle,
he sprang up and ran to see what she had brought ; when,
lo ! the kettle was half-full of bear's-meat, all nicely cooked.
The little chap had a dash of magic in him, and had found
means to extract what was intended to be withheld. The
old woman went back and reported that the secret was found
out. "All right !" said the master; "he and I will go out
to-morrow and bring in the remainder, and share it between
us." So they dwelt together on good terms.

One day Marten, in strolling around, came suddenly out
to a small lake in which was a party of girls bathing, —
their garments lying on the bank. He thought this a fine

mmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmimmm

THE BADGER AXD THE STAR-WIVES.

307

opportunity to get a wife ; so he selected the prettiest one,
snatched up her clothes, and ran off with them. She sprang
out of the water and gave chase, calling after him to give
her back her clothes. He paid no attention to her entreaties,
but ran home, followed by the young woman. As soon as
she came up, he gave her a slight tap on the head with a
small stick, which stunned her; and she dropped as if dead,
but recovered after a while, and consented to remain his
wife.

His neighbor came in from hunting, and finding that
his friend had obtained such a prize in this rare beauty,
he made diligent inquiry as to the how and the where
of the capture. Abistanaooch' informed him that at a cer-
tain pond he would be likel\- to find the beauties arrayed
in Nature's robes, and instrucied him how to proceed if he
wished to succeed in obtaining a sharer of his domestic
joys and sorrows. Team' proceeded to the spot; and, sure
enough, there were the Nereids enjoying themselves in the
water, dashing into it, splashing it over each other, amid
loud bursts of mirth and laughter. He made his choice,
and seizing her garments, ran off. She, dashing after him
at full speed, called to him to put down her clothes. He
paid no heed, but seizing a club, gave her a blow on the
head, which proved to be too heavy; and instead of being
simply stunned, she was killed. Disappointed and chagrined,
he complained to his neighbor that he did not instruct him
correctly.

Marten, after a while, went off to renew the experiment
on his own account, as he was covetous of an addition to
domestic arrangements. Team' followed him unobserved,
and watched the operation carefully. He saw how the busi-
ness was conducted, and then tried his hand at it again, and
succeeded. He brought home a wife, and all went well for
a season. But, alas for human happiness ! a quarrel broke
out between the husbands; and though the two wives of
Abistanaooch' were in no wise to blame, they were the occa-

308

MICMAC I.VDIAAr LEGENDS.

sion of the feud. " You have two wives," said Team', " and
I but one." As the result of the quarrel, the two girls deter-
mined to decamp. There was no quarrel between them ;
they loved each other like sisters, and they went off together
to seek their fortunes.

Night overtook them, and they lay down in the forest
under the open sky to sleep. The atmosphere was clear,
the sky cloudless. The bright stars were shining, and it was
long before they fell asleep. Gazing at the stars, they were
animated by the natural curiosity so beautifully expressed
by the poetess, —

" Twinkle, twinkle, little star ;
How I wonder what you are,
Up above the world so high,
Like a diamond in the skv," —

!M'

i- I'

].Ul

and they began to imagine them the eyes of lovers looking
down on them ; they began speculating as to the choice they
would make. The younger one said to the other, " Which
of those fellows would you choose for your husband, — the
one with small eyes, or the one with large eyes?" Her friend
replied, " I would choose that fine fellow with the large, bril-
liant eyes; he shall be my husband." " And mine," said the
other, " shall be that one with the small eyes." She had
selected a very small star, while the other had chosen a
large one.

After a while soft sleep with dewy fingers pressed down
their eyelids; and clasped in each other's arms, they revelled
in the land of dreams. When they awoke in the morning,
one of them unconsciously stretched out her foot, when a
voice startled her: "Take care! you will upset my dish of
war-paint." She opened her eyes at the sound, and lo ! at
her side lay a noble fellow, his face adorned in all the glory
of an Indian chief, with large, lustrous eyes beaming upon
her in kindness. It is the very husband of her choice, —
the very eye she selected the evening before.

Meanwhile the other, upon awaking, had also moved; and

''\

THE BADGER AND THE STAR-WIVES.

309

a. low, squeaking voice had called out also to her, "Take
care ! you will upset my dish of eye-water ! " She looked,
and lo ! at her side was the man of her choice, — tlie little
red-eye she had selected the evening before ; but its owner
was a little dwarfish old man, with small, red, sore eyes. But
there was no help for it ; as she had made her bed, she must
lie in it, like her more civilized sisters. And so the two
wanderers found themselves again united to husbands, and
entered immediately on their respective duties of house-
keeping.

Their husbands were hunters, of course, and were frequently
away from home, in the forest, for whole days together. The
women were left to take care of their homes, and were placed
under but one restriction. Not far from their wigwams was
a large flat stone, which they were charged not to remove or
touch. This injunction they carefully obeyed for a while ;
but human nature would not be human nature if curiosity
could be forever restrained. The older sister was more pru-
dent and firm than the younger. The latter at length could
contain herself no longer, and she resolved to raise the
prohibited stone and peep under. She started back with a
scream at the sight. "Where arc they?" Why, actually up
above the sky! a hole in which this stone covers as a trap-
door, and far down through which she sees the world on which
she used to live, and the village and home of her childhood.
Her elder sister rushed out, and looked down through this
hole in the roof of the world ; and they both gave way to
their grief, pnd cried till their eyes were red with weeping.

At evening their husbands returned, and the women en-
deavored to conceal all ; but in vain. The inhabitants of
this lower sphere, according to Indian mythology, could
divine; and much more the inhabitants of that upper
region. "What has been your trouble to-day?" the men
asked; "what have you been crying about?" "We have
had no trouble, and we have not been crying at all," they
answered, afraid to tell the truth. " But you have, though,"

1 "

II ■]

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' I

310

MICMAC INDIAN LEGENDS.

the men answered; "and you have been looking down through
the trap-door. You are lonely up here, and long to get away."
This was kindly said, and they would not deny the truth ; they
were longing for home. "Very well; you can go back, if you
choose. To-night you shall both sleep together ; and if you
will carefully obey directions, you shall find yourselves in the
morning where you lay down that night in which wc were
invited to come and marry you." These directions were as
follows: They were not to be in haste to open their eyes or
uncover their faces in the morning. " Wait until you hear
a chickadee sing; and even then you must not open your
eyes. Wait still longer, until you hear the red squirrel sing;
and still you must wait. Keep your faces covered, and your
eyes closed, until you hear the striped squirrel sing. Then
open your eyes and uncover your 1 leads, and you will be all
right."

With this understanding the two women retired to rest
together. In the morning, sure enough, bright and early,
they were awakened by the singing of the chickadee. The
younger one wanted to throw off the blanket and spring up;
but the other checked her. " Wait ! wait ! till wc hear the
abalpakumifch." So she lay quiet till the adod dooguccJi began
his morning work. The younger girl, always impatient and
rash, always getting them into difficulties, gave a spring at
the sound, and threw off the covering from their heads.
The sun was risen, they were down in their native forest ;
but, alas ! their impatience had interposed a serious obstacle
on their way down ; and instead of being on terra finiia, they
were lodged on the top of a tall, spreading pine-tree, and
descent without assistance was impossible. As the result of
their disobedience, they had to wait in the tree-top until
assistance came.

By and by men of the different Indian families began to
pass, all named from the different animals, and, as usual in
the Indian legends, all developing the various habits and
qualities of the animals from which their names were derived.

% \

THE BADGER AND THE STAK-H'Il'ES.

311

•

To each and every one, as he came up, the women appHed
for help. They promised to marry the man who would
deliver them from their perilous situation ; but, alas ! by
most of them the proposal was unheeded, and the parties
passed on ret^ardless of their entreaties.

By and by Kekwajoo fthe Ikidger; passed by, and they
pressed him to come up and brin;,^ them down. He at
first rejected their offer with disdain; but on relleclion
concluded very ungenerously to amuse himself at their ex-
pense, and so returned and consented to the undertaking on
the terms proposed, which they, aware of his dishonest inten-
tions, had not the slightest notion of fulfilling. He, however,
began to ascend the tree; whereupon the elder girl took both
of their hair-strings, and tied them in a great many hard
knots around the branches of the tree. After the second was
brought down, they requested him to return and bring the
hair-strings, and to be careful not to break them, but to untie
all the knots. Me went up and began his task, which he care-
fully performed, though it took him a very long time; they
meanwhile, according to agreement, busied themselves in
preparing a lodge. By the time he had succeeded in obtain-
ing the hair-strings, it was night. They had finished the
lodge ; it was a small affair, and in order to impose on their
selfish deliverer, they had introduced in one part of it a layer
of broken flint stones, in another part a number of wasps'-
ncsts, and a bundle of thorn-bushes in another ; and having
thus prepared for his reception, they decamped, and escaped
as fast as their feet could carry them.

Down came the Badger, and rushed into the tent. But
he could not find the ladies. He heard them speaking, how-
ever; and > ,ie said, " Come this way," — for ventriloquism is
as old as magic itself; and in Indian mythology, as in the
mythology of all nations, everything has a tongue. Hastily
stepping towards the place whence the voice seemed to pro-
ceed, he cut his feet with the sharp flint-stones. When the
voice again was heard, it seemed to proceed from a different

312

MIC MAC IiVDIAN LEGENDS,

■ \

.L.\.

I \w

quarter. He rushed in that direction, only to find liinisclf
amonj^f the thorns and brambles ; and then the decoy called
him to another quarter, to be assailed by a swarm of wasps.

]?y this time he was wide awake to the trick which had
been played upon him, and rushed out, determined to over-
take and be reven^^ed on the authors of his troubles, who had
repaid his kindness by their provoking tricks.

Meanwhile the girls had reached the banks of a river,
over which they could not pass without assistance. Tum-
gwoligunech' (the Crane) stood by as tlie ferryman, to whom
they applied for aid. IIi: was a wretchedly homely bird,
with long, crooked legs, rough and scaly, and with a long,
ugly, crooked neck. Ikit the old chap was as conceited and
vain as he was ugly ; he was proud, and loved to be flattered.
He would ferry the ladies over, provided they would admire
and commend his beauty. They did not hesitate. " You
have beautiful, smoo-th, straight legs," they told him, " and a
neck of the most captivating form, — so smooth, so straight,
and so graceful i " This was enough ; the Crane stretched
out his long neck for a bridge, and they walked over. 1 Ic
requested them to step lightly and carefully, lest they should
hurt his breast ; to this reasonable request they acceded, and
were soon at a safe distance from their pursuer.

Here the story leaves the two women for a season, and
takes up the narrative of the baffled IJadger.

The poor fellow, bent on revenge and boiling with rage,
came up to the river, over which he could not pass without
the aid of the guardian Crane. As the price of his labors,
he demanded the accustomed meed of flattery; but our hero
was in no mood for using flattery, — he was breathing out
threatcnings and slaughter. " You talk of your beauty ! "
said he ; " you are one of the ugliest old dogs that I have
ever set eyes on. There! help me over, will you? " " Yes,
that I will," said the Crane ; " take care you do not joggle
my neck as you pass." " Oh, certainly ! " said the Badger,
leaping on to the slippery crossing-pole, and beginning to

[1^

THE BADGER AND THE STAR-WIVES.

313

jump and dance. Hut Xiw^cx often defeats itself. About
ludf-way acioss tlic river, the insulted ferryman canted the
pole and tipped the Had^er into the stream. This was now
suddenly swollen by an ai)proaching freshet, whicli carried
the old fellow down stream headlon^s and cast at lenjith his
lifeless body on the shore.

There, some days after, two boys of the Kwedech tribe
discovered it. The carcass had be^nm to putrefy, and mag-
gots were already hatched in the eyes, nose, and ears ; but
while they looked on and talked and wondered, he began
to move, arose and shook himself, tossinij away all the
offensive accumulations, and stood before them in all the
vigor of an Indian warrior. He managed to gain the con-
fidence of the boys; he decoyed them ;iway down the river;
he asked them to let him feel the stiffness of their bows.
When he had got these once into his hands, he snapped
them into fragments, but told the boys that there were a lot
of little chaps across the next point of land, playing near
the river; at the same time he caused them to hear the
shouts and laughter proceeding from that quarter. They
hastened to join the others in play; but when they reached
the river on that side of the point, the sound seemed to come
from a point farther on. Thus were the two boys deluded
and led on, — their playmates seeming ever near and ever
retiring as they approached, until they gave up in despair,
and returned to their homes.

Meanwhile the mischievous Badger had gone to the boys'
home. There he found no one but their mother, into whose
frood graces he attempted to insinuate himself.

The boys had told him that they were of the Culloo '
tribe ; he pretended to be of the same tribe himself He
eyed with covetous desire the abundant supply of meat
which he saw in store in the hut. The woman treated him

1 The Culloo is a fabulous bird of tremendous size, — probably an exai,'s;er-
ated Condor, the same as the Roc of Arabian mythology, and the Simurg of
the Persians.

3'4

M/C.VAC /.\7>/.IX LEGENDS.

• <

as an imi)ostor. lUit he had actually learned one ol' the
Culloo nursery sonys, whicii he sang as proof of his honesty;
it was as follows : —

Af;()()f;fiil)col (A sial-skin strap),
Wctkubunabeol (A sliouklcr-strap).

liut the woman could not be imposed upon. She distrusted
his honesty. He seized a tomahawk and despatched her.
He then helped himself to a dinner of venison that was
stored up; after which he cut off the old woman's head, put
it into the kettle, set it a boiling, and decamped.

Soon after this the two boys returned, and wondered what
had become of their mother. They also wondered what was
boiling in the pot ; and as soon as they had found this
out, they knew who the author of the mischief was, and
set off in pursuit. Their bows had been broken, and
they were therefore unarmed ; but they succeeded in over-
taking^ him and in snatching off his gloves; with these they
returned.

Soon a neighbor, an uncle of the boys, arrived ; and they
told him their tale of woe. His name was Ka'kakooch (the
Crow) ; he went in pursuit, but all he succeeded in doing
was to snatch off his cap. " Thank you ! " said the Badger ;
"you have done me a great favor. I have been getting quite
warm, and now I feel better." Soon after, another relative
arrived, — Kitpoo (the Eagle). He was sent in pursuit of
the depredator; he succeeded in snatching off his coat.
" Oh, thank you ! thank you ! " he exclaimed ; " I was just
wishing that my younger brother were here, to take off my
coat for me." The next friend that arrived was the Culloo;
he carried off the Badger, body and breeches, and took him
away up to the top of a high cliff, — up to the sky itself, —
and set him down. From thence he looked down upon his
native land ; and it looked green and smooth, like a wigwam
newly carpeted with fir-boughs. Turning everything into
play and fun, Badger-Iikc, he broke out into song : —

THE BADGER AND THE STAR-WIVES. 315

•' Kiimutkenoot-k

'rolaptiiimuiCk
StugaLli' kcsciiiiHasIkcr
VunwaegOa'

'I'eliptumCiiitk'
Kuinulkcnoock'
Sliigi' 'mkiulDiuouskoon."

(Our countiy, iiosv lost,
Scums clearly to us
As though it were all sprc.ul with boughs.
llci, ho, he, lumi I
llcl, ho, he, liuiu!
Our country, now lost,
Seems now to us
To be blue like the clear blue sky.)

But thouj^h the BalL^cr was thus disposed to make merry
even over his misfortunes, the Culloo had not brought him
there for sport, but for the stern realities of punishment.
lie seized and pitched liim over the beetUng cHff, tiiat he
miglit be dashed to pieces against tlie rocks of Mother
Earth. Down headlong through the regions of ether he fell ;
but even here his mirthfulness did not fail him, — he could
turn even his falling into fun. The winged enemy was pur-
suing him at hand in his descent. " Hurrah! for a race!"
the Badger exclaimed, autl flapped his arms, and imitated
with his mouth the whish ! whish ! of the Culloo's ponderous
wings. But as he ncared the earth, he became somewhat
sobered by the prospect. He was descending with acceler-
ated velocity upon a ragged edge of rocks. " Oh, spare my
poor backbone ! " he shouted, and was dashed to fragments
against the rocks.

His flesh, blood, and bones were scattered in every direc-
tion, _ all save the spine. This bone, enchanted into safety
by the magic words uttered, remained entire and intact;
there it lay upon the rock.

The place of his punishment was in his own neighbor-
hood ; and It so happened that he had a younger brother,
who, in walking about, came upon the spot where the naked

3i6

MI CM AC IXDIA.V LEGEXDS.

11::!'

W'^:'^

I- V

■it

I B t

backbone was lying. He recognized his brother, and cx-
clciinied, " Pray, what is all this about? What in life arc you
doing here?" Whereupon a voice came from the bone,
calling upon the scattered parts to come anil assume their
former places: ' N^ooloogoou ba hoi ("Ik:! my leg, come
hither"); W/irtnn o^run ba ho! ("My arm, ho! come
hither"); and so on throughout, — when, in obedience to
the summons, all the scattered fragments of bone, sinew,
muscle, and skin came together to their places. Then life
came into him, and he arose a full-fledged man, — the
verit.ible Badger that was dashed to pieces b}' his fall
from the sky.

The two men went forward ; and as they went on they
came to the top of a high mountain. Large boulders were
lying about, and one was so near the brow of the mountain
that they thought they could raise a little sport by means of
it. A little effort with the handspike loosened it and set it
rolling ; away it went, thundering down the side of the
mountain, and the}' after it at the top of their speed, chal-
lenging the rock to a race ; they kept up till it stopped at
the foot of the hill, and then they passed by in triumph.
V>y and b\' they rested for the night, killed a muskrat, and
dressed it; but while the cooking was going forward, they
heard a great commotion back in the direction of the rock
wdiich they had rooted from its resting-place and challenged
to a race. The rock, which happened to be in reality a
magician in disguise, had taken a rest, and was now coming
on to renew the challenge and finish the race. In vain they
attempted to flee, — they could not outstrip the foe ; it came
thundering on, smashing down trees and clearing a road for
itself. They ran to a hill, but in vain. Up after them it
rolled, the huge roimd stone ; and the poor fellow hail only
time to utter the magic words, NoOi^oon ooskoodcsktick ! {" Let
my backbone remain uninjured ! ") when he was smitten,
rolled over by the stone, and ground to powder. The back-
bone, however, remained, st/ipped of all its surroundings, but

THE BADGER AND THE STAR-WIVES.

j^7

intact. The >'oungcr brother had adroitly sHppcd to one
side, and had escaped the ruin. When all was still, he
returned to the spot where the backbone lay, and said,
Cogood' ivcjismookUumnn ? (" What are >-ou b'ing there
for?") Whereupon he began to call up the various parts
of his body, as before: Wtcnin ba! ho! ("My body, ho!")
'Nooloogoon ha! ho! ("My leg- \\o\'') and so on, until
he had again called all his portions and appurtenances to-
gether, — wh.,Mi he arose and inquired wonderingly, " What
have I been doing?" His brother reminded him of whai
had happened : " Yonder stone pursued and destroyed you."
" Ah ! indeed ! Well, I will fix him ! " So they attacked
the rock; and by dint of fire and hammer, employed for
many days, it was reduced to powder, blown into the air,
and turned into black flics, all retaining the hatred and spite
of the old rock ; they attacked men and bit them most
viciously, in retaliation for having been conquered.

Having disposed to their satisfaction of the rock, ^lagician
Badger and his brother roamed off into the forest, and by
and by came upon a village el Indians, l^adger resolved on
playing a prank among them, and making for himself a little
sport at their expense. He accordingly left his brother at a
distance, assumed the form and dress of a beautiful young
woman all adorned with finery, and so entered the village.
He soon attracted the attention of a spruce young chief, who
proposed marriage and was accepted. Things went on very
quietly for a while. Rumors, however, soon began to float
among the gossips of the neighborhood that all was not as
it should be respecting the stranger. Doubts as to the sex
of the party were entertained ; but the prospect of addition
to the family of the young chief dispelled these doubts. When
the eventful period arrived, the bogus wife informed the hus-
band that things must be allowed to proceed in this case
according to the custom of her own tribe. The labors of
parturition needed no assistance ; the patient was to be left
entirely alone. Accordingly the husband went over to a

3i8

MICMAC LXDIAN LEGENDS.

) 'I' . .

IS:r^

«:

111

J !■

neighbor's wigwam. Soon after, the crying of a child was
heard, and the }-oung women ran in to see and welcome the
little stranger. It was compl';tely rolled up, and they were
told that no one was to uncover the face but the father.
Away they ran with it, kissing it outside the blanket as they
went. He was all expectation, — took the supposed child,
and carefully removed the envelope; what was his disgust
and horror to find, instead of a babe, a tiny, dead, dried
moose-calf that had been made to represent the progress of
infant development. Dashing it into thu fire, he seized his
tomahawk and rushed into his wigwam, to wreak his ven-
geance on the author oi the trick. But the wily P>adger was
too much for him; he had been making good use of tho
interim to distance his pursuers, who turned out en masse and
gave chase. He had taken the smaller boy with him, and
pushed on to the river for dear life.

They soon came to a large waterfall. To concc .; Ip uself
and his brother, he broke down trees and bushes, and stopped
the fall by jamming these obstructions on above; then, hid-
ing below, he imitated the boo oo oo of the waterfall. He
thus evaded his pursuers, but his turn soon came ; he was
caught in his own trap. The water above, collecting in
force, burst the barriers, and rushed down in such volume
as to sweep all before it. That is the last ever heard of the
Badger.

[Related by Susan Christmas, Sept. 7, 1870. She pro-
fesses to have learned this story, and many more, when she
was a small child, from an old blind woman on Cape Breton.
The old blind woman used to interest her and other children,
and keep them quiet for a long time, telling them stories.]

But the story is not yet finished ; it return? to the two
girls. The}' were left on the opposite side of the river,
whither the Crane had conveyed them, and where their pur-
suer had been left to perish. These, having escaped from

TIIF. BADGER AND THE STAR-WIVES.

3 '9

their cncm}', pursued the even tenor of tlicir way. At ni;_;ht
they came to a deserted lodge, and entered, to remain for
the niglit. There was nothing peculiar about the lodge but
the neck ami .skull-bone of an animal ; this was outside,
and assumed a prominence that was suspicious. The elder
woman ( girl, we would better call her ), being somewhat skilled
in the dodges of magicians, ami withal somewhat of a sor-
ceress her-elf, was disposed to be cautious, and axoided th.c
bone. The }'nunger girl was inclined to insult it, and, despite
the warnings of her companion, treated it with great indignity.
They h.ad hardly lain down to sleep when a solemn voice
was heard outside, complaining of the indignit}'. " There ! "
said the elder; "did I not tell you it was a hooiiin, a sor-
cerer? Now, then ! you will catch it." The other girl was
terribly frightened. "Oh, hide me! hide me under the
boughs that line the wigwam." This was said in a whisper ;
but the words were instantly repeated b>- the magician out-
side, and repeated in a mocking tone. The fears of the
poor girl within were redoubletl. "Hide me under j'our
kuiiccsXi^uni (large roll of hair on the back of the head)."
Under this the girl crawled, reducing her dimensions to suit
the occasion. Morning came at last, and the magician, a
scuumajoo (raw-head and bloody bones '), entered the wig-
wam. But he was disappointed ; there were no girls there.
He saw one man, who saluted him with great composure,
and invited him to be seated. The elder girl, having hidden
her friend in her head-dress, had assumed the garb and look
of the masculine gender, and was as cool and undisturbed as
though nothing had happened. Senumajoo inquired, "Where
are the girls that came here last evening? " " Girls! girls! "
answered the supposed man ; " there were no girls here."
The old chap was outwitted, but he did not readily give in ;
he made no direct attack, however, upon the other. After
a while t'ney left the wigwam in company, and went on.
They arrived in due time at a wide river, where Mr. Crane.

' Drinker of blood.

mmmm

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I=r

320 MICMAC INDIAN LEGENDS.

the ferryman, awaited them, standing, as cranes arc wont to
do, at the river's brinli. He was not the one encountered
before; but as the reward of his labors as ferryman, he
exacted a similar fee. He was vain of his beauty, and must
liear the words of flattery ; these the girl readily pronounced,
and was safely landed on the ofiposite bank. But on the
passage she told him who and what the other was, and
begged him not to ferry him over ; so as soon as he returned
he spread his heavy wings, and rising into the air, soared
away. The girl, now safe from her dangerous companion,
cast a look of defiance across the river towards him, assumed
her real form, released her sister from her confinement, and
the two went on together.

After proceeding down the river for a while, they came to
a small stone wigwam situated on a rough, rocky bank.
They entered, and found that it was inhabited by an old lady
of the MadooLs' (Porcupine) tribe. She treated them with
great civilil}', but it was all assumed. She kindled a fire,
and prepared a feast. But the i)lace became very warm, —
the house was soon too hot for them; but they bore up
against the trouble, and partook of the food when prepared.
They were somewhat surprised at the smallness of the supply
provided, — there was scarcely a taste apiece for them ; but
it enlarged itself greatly on being swallowed, and its effects
were painful and alarming. In response to their com-
plaints the wily old witch went out to the door of her cave,
and began to sing her song of sorcery. As she sang, there
was a movement among the rocks in the midst of which her
cell was fixed, and they shut down over the two guests and
hid them forever. So ends the story.

^»WWP*»

THE STORY OF MIMKUDAWOGOOSk"

331

LVI.

THE STORY OF MIMKUDAWOGOOSK'
(MOOSEWOOD MAN).

AWAY in the woods dwelt a young woman alone. As
she had no comrade, she was obliged to depend upon
her own exertions for everything; she procured her own
fuel, hunted and prepared her own food ; she was often
lonely and sad. One day, when gathering fuel, she cut and
prepared a noosagun (poker for the fire) of iinuikudawok, and
brought it home with her; she did not bring it into the wig-
wam, but stuck it up in the ground outside. Some time in
the evening she heard a sound, as of a human voice outside
complaining of the cold: '' N unices (Aly sister), kaoochc (I
am cold)." " Come in and warm yourself, then," was the
answer. " I cannot come in ; I am naked," v;as the reply.
" Wait, then, and I will put you out some clothes," slio
replied. This was soon done. He donned the robes tossed
out to him, and walked in, — a fine-looking fellow, wlio took
his seat as the girl's younger brother ; the poker which she
left standing outside the door had been thus metamorphosed,
and proved a very beneficial acquisition. He was very
afifable and kind, and withal an expert hunter; so that all
the wants of the house were bountifully supplied. He
was named Mimkudawogoosk', from the tree from which he
sprang.

After a time his female friend hinted to him that it would
be well for him to seek a companion. " I am lonely," said
she, "when you are away; I want you to fetch me a sister-
in-law." To this reasonable suggestion he consented ; and
they talked the matter over and made arrangements for

322

MICMAC IXDIAN LEGENDS.

'vs\n

carrying their plans into execution. His sister told him
where to go, and how to pass certain dangers: "You will
have to pass several nests of serpents ; but you must not
fight them nor meddle with them. Clap one end of your bow
on the ground, and use it as a pole to assist you in jumping,
and leap right straight across them."

Having received these instructions, he started on his jour-
ney. v\fter a while his sister became lonely from the loss
of his company, and resolved to follow him. To give him
warning, she sang; he heard, and answered hicr in the same
style, instructing her to go back and not come after him.
She did so.

He went on till he came to a large Indian village. He
followed his sister's instruction, and entered one of the mean-
est wigwams. There, as he expected, he found quite a
bevy of pretty girls. The joungcst of the group excelled in
beauty; he walked up ami I'jok his seat by her side. As she
remained seated, and the parents showed their acquiescence
by their silence, this settled the matter and consummated the
marriage. The beauty of his countenance and his manly
bearing had won the heart ^^f the maiden and the esteem of
the father. But the young men of the village were indignant.
The young lady had had many suitors, who had all been
rejected ; and now to have her so easily won by a stranger
was outrageous. They determined to kill him.

Meanwhile his father-in-law told him to go out and try his
hand at hunting, and when he returned successful they would
prepare a festival in honor of the marriage. So he took his
wife with him in his father-in-law's canoe, and following the
directions given by the old man, pushed up the river to the
hunting-grounds, where he landed and constructed a tem-
porary hut. He went into the hunting business in earnest.
He was at home in that occupation; and before many days
he had collected a large amount of fur and venison, and was
prepared to return.

But a conspiracy had been formed to cut him off and rob

-sm

THE STORY OF MLMKUDAIVOGOOSK".

323

him of his prize. A band of younf^ men of the village, who
were skilled in mat^ical arts, had followed him and reached
the place where he had pitched his hut. But now the trouble
was, how to proceed ; they dared not attack him openly, and
in wiles he might be able to outdo them. lUit l.icy adopted
this plan: One of them was to transform himself into a
mouse, and insinuate himself under the blanket while the
man was asleep, and then give him a fatal stab. But our
hero was wide awake. When the mouse approached, he
quietly clapped his knee on him, all unconsciously, as he
pretended, and squeezed the little fellow most lovingly.
The poor little mouse could not stand the pressure, and
sang out most lustily. This aroused the wife; who, per-
ceiving that her husband was resting his leg heavily upon
some poor fellow, jogged him and tried to make him under-
stand what was going on. But he was wonderfully dull of
apprehension, and could not understand what she was saying,
but managed by what seemed an all-unconscious movement
to squeeze the wily foe, the small mouse, more affectionately.
He did not design to kill him, however, but to frighten him
and send him off. Finally he released him ; and never did
poor mouse make greater speed to escape. He carried the
warning to his companions, and they concluded to beat a
hasty retreat.

Mlmkudawogoosk' now prepared to return. Tie asked his
wife if she was willing to take the canoe, with its load, back
to the village alone, and allow him to go and fetch his
sister; she said she was willing, and he siw her safely off.
She arrived in due time, and made report to her father.
All were amazed at the amount of fur and food collected in
so short a time. They conveyed it all safely u[) to the vil-
lage, and then awaited the return of the husband. After a
few days he came, bringing his sister; and the feasts and
sports began.

After racing and other sports, he was challenged to dive
and see who could remain the longer under water. He

324

MICMAC INDIAN LEGENDS.

I '. 'I

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I t:

!5i

accepted the challenge, and went out with his antagonist.
" What arc you?" said Mimkudawogoosk'. " I am a Loon,"
answered the other proudly; " but you, — what are you?"
" I am a Chigumooecch." " Ah ! " Down went the divers;
and after a long time the poor Loon floated up to the top,
and drifted dead down the river. The spectators waited a
long while; and finally the ChTgrimooecch came up, flapped
his wings cxultingly, and came to land in triumph, " Let
us try a game of growing," said another. " What will you
choose to be? " said Mimkudawogoosk'. " I will be a Pine-
tree," answered the other. " Very well ; I am the Elm,"
answered his rival. So at it they went. The one rose as a
largo white pine, encumbered with branches, which exposed
him to the blasts of the hurricane. The other rose high,
and naked of limbs ; and when the blast came he swayed
and bent, but retained his hold on the earth, while his rival
was overturned and killed.

The stranger came off victorious in all the contests, and
returned exulting to camp. The father-in-law was pleased
and proud of him; but his other daughters — and especially
the oldest — were dying of envy and rage, and the young men
of the village were indignant.

Meanwhile our hero was presented by his wife with a fine
little boy ; and the oldest sister pretended to be very friendly,
and asked permission to nurse the child. But the mother
declined the proffered assistance; she was suspicious of the
ill-suppressed jealousy of her sister. " I can take care of
my babe myself," she told her.

After a while the father-in-law advised Mimkudawogoosk'
to remove back to his native place. The jealousy of the
hunters was deepening. They were enraged to find them-
selves outdone and their glory eclipsed in everything;
they determined soon to make an attempt to rid themselves
of him. He took the advice, and departed. His father-in-
law furnished him with a canoe and weapons, and bade him
defend himself if attacked. He went, taking with him his

PMN

THE SrORY OF MIM KU DAIVOGOOSK" .

325

wife, child, and sister. He had not gone far before he was
pursued and overtaken. But he was found to be as good in
battle as in the chase; his foes were soon killed or dispersed,
and he and his family pursued the even tenor of their way
to their own land. And kHspt^aiiookslt (the story ends).

[Related by Susan Christmas, Yarmouth, Sept. 7, 1870.]

4C ^

326

MIC MAC INDIAN LEGENDS.

LVII.

ir }!

'», 'i

V ,

THE STORY OF CUOLNAJOO.

[This is evidently a story of modern date, and gives rea-
sons to suppose that it was learned from the whites; but I
relate it as I heard it in IMicmac from Susan Christmas.]

'T^^HREE brothers lived together. They had no sisters,

and their mother was sick. The }-oungcst was sup-

posed to be a silly fellow, and was always doing outrageous
things. One day they killed a pig. The two older br(jthcrs
went to fetch salt, and told the youngest one to remain and
watch the house, and take care of their mother and the pig.
They said they were going to salt down the i)ork, and keep
it for the long days. After they were gone, he went out and
found some men at work, and told them that if there was a
man there named Longdays, he had a pig for him. One of
them declared that that was his name ; forthwith the pig
was delivered to him, and he carried it off. By and by the
other brothers arrived, and wondered what had become of
the pig. " Why, Longda}'s has been here and taken it
away! Did not you say it was to be kept for Mr.
Longdays?" "Oh, you blockhead! vvc told you it was
to be kept for ourselves when the days become long next
summer."

Some time after this, Coolnajoo was sent to buy a horse.
He made the purchase, and brought the horse home. But
there was a long avenue, lined by trees and bushes, ex-
tending from the highway down to the house ; and when he
came to the head of this lane, he gravely told the horse that
this was the road, and bade him go on directly to the house.

- I

THE STORY OF COOI.XAJOO.

327

Saying this, he removed the halter; and llie horse l<icked up
his heels and made fi.r home. The bo)- arrived home, won-
dering at the stupidity of the horse; and on relating the case
to his brothers, they wondered at liis stupidity. " Vou num-
skull ! " they e.\claimed, " you can never cUj anything right.
Why did you not ride him down the lane?" "Oh, I will
do better next time," he promised.

So. as the old mother got no better, they sent him to find
and bring home a woman to assist in nursing her and in
taking care of the house. He took his bridle ami started.
He succeeded in his expedition, and the woman came with
him all quiet and kindly till they reached the head of the
lane ; but there and then he made an attempt to i)ut the
bridle on her head, and assured her that she had to carry
him on her back, and walk on all fours down to the house.
Persisting in his determination, the terrified woman screamed,
broke from her persecutor, and ran.

Chopfallen and sad, he went into the house. What was
his trouble? they asked him. "Why! I attempted to bring
her home in the way you directed ; but she screamed and
tore away from me, and crying went back, as hard as she
could go." "Oh, you abominable fool! " they exclaimed;
"was that the way to treat a woman? You should have
taken her by the arm, and occasionally given her a kiss."
" Ah, well ! " he cried, " I shall know better next time."

The next time he was sent for a pig. He led the pig all
right until he came to the lane. He then tried to make the
pig walk on his hind legs; and when the terrified animal
squealed and kicked, he attempted to conciliate it by kissing
it; but he received such a return from the tusks of his cap-
tive as made the blood flow, and caused him to let go his
grip, — and poor piggy went off home at the top of his
speed.

Poor Coolnajoo returned crestfallen to his home, to relate
his adventures, and to be blamed and lectured for the hun-
dredth time for his outrageous stupidity.

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328

MICMAC INDIAN LEGENDS.

His next expedition was for a tub of hog's-lard. This he
purchased ; but on his way home he passed over a portion of
road that was dried and cracked by the sun. *' Oh, my old
grandfather! " he exclaimed, " what a terribly sore back you
have got, — so naked and dry ! You shall have my lard for
salve, and I will rub it on." So saying, he began spreading
the lard over the dry road ; and when it was all gone, he
went home. "Why have you not brought the lard?" "Oh,
dear me ! I came across a poor old man lying in the road
with his back all sore and cracked ; and I pitied him, and
spread the lai'd over him." To this the brothers made no
objection until they ascertained the truth of the case; when
another attempt was made to teach him a lesson, and with
the usual success.

His sixth expedition was in quest of a quantity of needles.
These were purchased, but on his way home he passed a
newly reaped field of grain. He looked at the stubble, and
perceived the holes in the top ; he was sure that when the
rain should fall, tlie water would fill all those holes, and con-
cluded that it would be a very benevolent act to stop them
up. This would be a capital end to which to apply his
needles. So he opened the packages, and carefully placed
one in every straw; and when the supply was exhausted,
many remained undoctored. " Alas, poor things ! " he cried,
" I cannot help you any more, as my stock is out." So he
went home without his needles.

Afterward he was sent for some red flannel. Passing a
graveyard on his way home, he looked at the crosses, and
took them for poor old penitents kneeling in the cold with
outstretched arms, and carefully tore up his roll of red
flannel and covered their poor shivering shoulders.

After this the two other brothers went together to town to
make some purchases, and left him to take care of the sick
mother. They charged him to give her drink, and especially
to wash her face. He obeyed the directions, but supposed
he must wash her face as he had seen her wash clothes, — by

THE STORY OF COOLXAJOO,

329

thrusting them into boiling water. So he set on the great
pot; and when the water was boiling, he took up he old
woman and thrust her head into it, and held lier there. When
he took her out, she was dead, and her lips were contracted
to a grill, whicli he affected to mistake for laughter, and
placed her back in the bed, and leaped and laughed at her
quiet and pleasant countenance. He ran to meet his broth-
ers, and told them that their mother had not been so quiet
nor looked so well this long time. She had not stirred nor
spoken, and she was laughing all the time. They went in,
and were horror-stricken. " Oh, you outrageous simpleton !
what have you done? You have killed your mother. \Vc
shall all be executed for murder."

But now Coolnajoo began to exhibit his shrewdness, and
soon became as clever as he had hitherto been simple.
" Never you fear," said he ; " we will turn the incident to
good account, we will make some money out of it. Wait
you here; I will run for the priest." So off he ran post-
haste, and informed the priest that his mother was dying,
and requested him to come with all haste, to perform over
her the indispensable rite of extreme unction. The priest
started immediately; but Coolnajoo outran him, and took
his dead mother and placed her against the door, inside.
The priest reached the house, burst the door open, and
tumbled the old woman over. Coolnajoo sprang to raise
her. Alas ! she was dead. " Oh ! " he exclaimed, wringing
his hands and weeping, " you have killed our mother ! " All
three gathered round, and the horrified priest did not know
what to do. They threatened to accuse him of the murder.
He finally succeeded in pacifying them, and gave them a
whole handful of money to hush up the matter and say
nothing about it.

The development of his shrewdness proceeded. The two
other brothers went away one day, and left the place in his
charge. Among other occupations he had to tend the pigs.
These he sold ; but in order to cheat his brothers, he cut off

330

Af/CMAC INDIAN LEGENDS.

their tails and took thcni down to a qiiat^mirc near the shore,
and stuck theni all np in the sand. When tliey came back
and incjuired fc^r the i)ij;s, lie told them they had broken out
of the pen and rushed down toward the shore, and had sunk
in the quagmire. They went down to sec; and sure enough,
there they all were, just the tips of their tails sticking above
the ground. They seized hold of the tails, and tried to draw
up the porkers ; but the tails broke, and down into the mire
sank the bodies, as they believed, and could not be found.

Soon his pranks became unbearable, and the brothers
resolved to make away with him. They concluded to drown
him. So they tied him up in a bag, and took him down
below highwater mark and buried him,— not deep, how-
ever, — and left him to be drowned when the tide came in.
They returned; and he soon heard the " Uh I uh ! uh ! " of
a drove of hogs, and called lustily for them to come to his
aid. If they would uncover and untie him, he would lead
them to a place where they could feast on chickweed to
their hearts' content. The hogs, attracted by the noise,
approached the spot. Their noses were soon thrust deep
into the soft earth. The bag was soon reached, and instinct
alone was sufficient to pull it out; and they soon removed
the string, — when up jtjmpcd Coolnajoo, who seized one
of his deliverers, transferred him to the bag, and the bag to
the hole, drove the others away to the field of chickweed,
where they were kept busy till the tide returned and covered
the spot where he was supposed to lie.

In due time the tide receded, and compunction returned
to the brothers' hearts ; they repaired to the spot and dug
up the bag, mournfully chanting, " Our poor brother is
dead." Astonishment seized them when, on opening the
bag, there, instead of the brother's corpse, was a dead pig.
Meanwhile Coolnajoo had waited at a distance from the spot
until his brothers went down to the shore to look for him.
When they returned, he was astride the ridge-pole, laughing
at them.

THE STORY OF COOLX.iJOO.

331

They made another attempt to kill him. This time they
planned b(>tter; they would take him to a waterfall and toss
him ip above, and let h''ii be dashed to pieces in [^'oing over
the rapids. So they led him up in a ba<^ again, placed it
across a pole, and started for the waterfall. They became
hungry on the way, and placed him by the side of the road,
and went to get some dinner. While they were gone, a
drover came by; and seeing the bag, he went u[) and gave
it a kick. "Halloa!" he exclaimed, "what is all this?"
Coolnajoo replied, and informed the drover that he and his
brothers were on a mone3'-hunting expedition ; concealed in
this bag, so as not to excite suspicion, he was to be taken to
a certain place where they would all make their fortunes. I le
gave such a glowing account of the matter, and with such
apparent truthfulness and sincerity, that the drover was
deceived, and offered him a whole drove of cattle and
sheep for his chance in the money-hunting speculation.
The bargain was struck, and the parties exchanged places.
But Coolnajoo gave his substitute some cautions : " You
must be cautious not to speak, or the cheat will be dis-
covered ; my brothers must not mistrust that it is not I.
By and by you will hear the roar of a waterfall ; do not be
frightened. Before lowering you to the place where you are
to find the money, they may give you two or three swings.
You must keep still, and not speak ; and after that you can
have it all your own way." So saying, he went on to the
market with the drove. The brothers came back to the bag.
"Are you there?" they asked. No answer. But they saw
that all was right, placed the bag on the pole, the pole on
their shoulders, and moved on.

When they came to the waterfall, they approached as
near as they could, and then gave him three swings in order
to send him as far out as possible; and just as they let go,
the terrified man sang out. They were startled at the voice ;
it sounded like a stranger's voice. They returned home,
and shortly after their brother arrived with his pockets

332

MICMAC INDIAN LEGENDS.

f ■
I

full of money, — the proceeds of his drove of cattle and
sheep.

So they concluded to share the spoil and remain together.
IJut one night a band of robbers was seen advancing upon
them, and they ran for their lives. Coolnajoo was the last to
leave the house ; and the others told him to " bring the door
to after him," — meaning, of course, that he shall shut the
door. He obeyed to the letter, — took the door off the
hinges, and carefully brought it after him. They made for
the woods, and took shelter in a tree, — Coolnajoo dragging
the door up after him, and holding it carefully all the while.
The robbers came up to the same tree, kindled a fire under
it, cooked and ate their dinner, and then began counting
and dividing their gold. While this process was going on.,
Coolnajoo got tired of holding the door, and dropped it
down among them. It fell with a noise that terrified the
robbers, who supposed that it had fallen from the sky ; so
they ran off as fast as their legs could ca"ry them, and left
everything behind, — gold, food, and dishes. Down scrambled
our heroes, and gathered all up and ran; finally they came
to a house, where they remained all night. They divided
the money; but Coolnajoo claimed the largest share, as he
declared that it was through his efforts that it had been
obtained. The next night they called and stayed all night
at another strange house. Coolnajoo became thirsty, and
hunted around for a drink. Feeling carelessly about, he
thrust his two hands into a pitcher, and could not withdraw
them. He went out-of-doors, and looked around for some-
thing to strike the pitcher against, in order to break it. At
length he saw what seemed in the darkness to be a white
rock. He gave the pitcher a smart blow in order to free his
hands ; when, alas ! he had struck a young woman in the
head, and killed her with the blow. At the sight of what
he had done, he was terribly frightened, and called up his
brothers. He told them what had happened, and proposed
immediate flight. They all departed ; and his brothers, fear-

II %A

THE STORY OF COOLNAJOO.

333

ing that Coolnajoo woiik^ ,timatcly get t.icm into clifficultics
from which they would be unable to extricate themselves,
separated from him. By mutual consent the partnership was
dissolved. They went each his own way.

Coolnajoo was bent on making money, and an oppor: unity
occurred soon. He kept his eye on the robbers, and saw
them going out to bury a dead child ; he watched to sec
where they deposited the body, and also followed them
unseen to their retreat. When night came, he took up the
corpse they had buried, and went up to their house. The
window was open, and he looked in ; they were busy count-
ing and dividing their ill-gotten booty. Piles of money
covered the table, and he heard all the accounts of their
expeditions. All at once he sent the dead baby flying in
among them, — which so frightened them that they took to
their heels and left all behind. He leaped in, gathered ail
the money, and left for home.

He now determined to settle, and to this end built a small
house. One day a heavy rain-storm came on; and just
at nightfall two weary priests, wet to the skin, called and
requested a night's lodging. This he refused, as he had no
accommodations for strangers ihey pleaded hard, and
offered him a large reward ; this he accepted, and kept them
until morning, but managed to exact a still further contribu-
tion from them before their departure.

334

MICMAC INDIAN LEGENDS.

LVIII.

MOOIN AND MOONUMKWKCH' (THE BEAR
AND THE WOODCHUCK).

VVO olJ women lived together in a wigwam ; there
were no neighbors near. They did their own hunting,
got their own wood, and lived plcasantl)' together. They
had an abundance of everything, and during the cold winter
nights kept a bright, cheerful fire burning in the centre of
their wigwam.

One night they lay down to rest, Indian-fashion, witkfisoo-
dijlk (heads and points), so that each could lie with her back
to the fire. While they were sound asleep, Moonumkwech
came up to the door and looked in. He saw that the two
women were asleep, one with her feet towards the other's head;
and he resolved to have some fun at their expense. So he
went and cut a long stick of ozvbogoos, and placed it near the
fire until it was hot ; he then touched the foot of one, and then
of the other. They started, and called out to each other,
" ]\Hnd ! you arc burning my feet." "Indeed, I am not!"
exclaimed each in turn; and they soon got into a great
quarrel. Moonumkwech' enjoyed the game marvellously,
and laughed so heartily that he literally split his sides, and
fell dead just outside the door.

In the morning the women went out and found the dead
Moonumkwech' at the door; they skinned and dressed him
for breakfast. The kettle was hung, he was cut up and put
in, and the water began to boil ; whereupon he came to life.
He picked himself up and put himself together; leaping
out of the pot, he made his escape. He rushed out-of-
doors, seized his coat, — his skin, which had been stretched
out there, — slipped it on, and scampered into the woods.

•I

MOOLx AXD MOONCMKW'ECir.

3'^ f
J5

In jumping out of the pot he stood for a moment on the
edge ; thus disturbing the equilibrium of the pot, and spiUing
the scalding water into the fire. This threw up the ashes
with great splutter, and filled the eyes of the Hear and
blinded her. After this she could not go out hunting, and
was entirely dependent on her friend, — who was not the
most kindly disposed towards her blind sister, and did not
give Iier the most choice morsels, but fed her scantily, and
on the leanest and poorest of the meat, though slie had a
plenty of the best.

One day, while MooTn was alone in the wigwam, she began
to wonder if she could not get her eyes open. So she felt
around for her knife, sharpened it upon a whetstone, and
then cut across her eyes. Instantly the liglit dawned upon
her. She looked up, and could sec a little, h^ncouragcd by
her success, she made another incision ; and now out of one
eye she could see well. She performed the same operation
on the other eye, and her sight was perfectly restored. She
looked up, and saw an abundance of fatter and better meat
than that upon which she had been fed.

Meanwhile her friend came in from hunting, and prepared
their dinner. She took a small portion that was the hardest
and leanest, and placed it before the Jiear. Ihit the latter
looked up and cast her eyes upon the fine fat piece hanging
there, and looked her companion in the face, who saw
with astonishment that her eyes were cured. She was fright-
ened, and escaped the impending, dreaded resentment by an
artful dodge. "Bless mc ! " she exclaimed, " I have given
you the wrong dish; I had prepared that for myself. There
is yours," — changing the dishes as she spoke.

After this the two women lived in harmony in their domes-
tic affairs, as they had done before the appearance of the
rascally Woodchuck.

1 1

336

MICMAC LWDIAN LEUEXDS.

LIX.

OOCHTGEOrCH

TWO old Indians lived far away in the forest. They had
no daughters, and only one son.
When the boy was grown up, his mother advised him to
begin housekeeping on his own hook. lie made inquiries
respecting the matter, and his mother gave him all due direc-
tions. She prepared his clothes for the occasion, and told
him wliich way to go. He must follow the river, and go up
stream. In due time he would come to a small Indian
village; he would not find the wished-for girl there, but he
would obtain directions. He must enter one of the humblest
lodges, and make known his errand. This all came out as
foretold. He entered the lodge ; and there was an old
mother, who received him kindly, and a small boy, who took
great pleasure in waiting upon him. The old lady had
already divined his errand ; and when he stated to her the
particulars, she volunteered to assist him. She went over to
a neighboring lodge, where two young men resided, and told
them that a stranger had arrived {wdjoolkzu), and that a fine
young man was on a marriage-expedition and needed a
guide. Would one of them accompany him? One con-
sented, and his services as guide were accepted. The next
day the two went on ; they came to a second village, but
their directions were to go on to a third. In due time this
was reached ; it turned out to be a very large one. Here
the young man entered one of the poorest and meanest-
looking lodges, where an old grandmother and her little
grandson, Marten, welcomed them. Before entering, the
young candidate for . atrimonial honors put off his fine,
manly appearance, his ornaments, and his beauty, and assumed

oocinuEorcii.

337

a mean garb and a rou^'h, scabby face. Awkwardly enter-
ing tlic lodge, Ik- managed to hit his face with the boughs
that were woven by the .side of the doorway to i<eei) ^*^'^ ^''*^
cold, and to set his face to bleeding. In this wretched
plight he tintcred, and took his seat. The old hiily knew
well that all this was assnnjed for the purpose of seeing who
would marry him notwithstanding his looks, — intending that
his bride sliouj] enjoy a pleasing surprise when she found
out how handsome he really was.

His comrade informed the grandmother who her guests
were, and what tlie object of their expedition was. She
then went out to negotiate. There was a chief there, who
luid a number of daughters; and to him the old woman
made application. The old chief had a streak of magic in
him ; and, despite the young stranger's appearance, he knew
that there was something in him. " Let him come," said
the chief, " and take his choice of my daughters."

The girls, all in a high state of expectation, were called in
and seated round the lodge. At the word given, in blun-
dered the would-be bridegroom. His face was covered with
ugly sores, and he managed to stumble against the brush of
the wigwam, so as to set them bleeding ; and in this con-
dition he gazed around on the young women, in order to
select the most beautiful and lovely one. They were horror-
stricken, and screaming rushed out of the wigwam and hid
their faces ; but the youngest, who was the prettiest and best,
kept her seat. He went up and sat down by her side. This
settled the matter. The parties were married, but the poor
thing could not restrain her tears ; these fell thick and fast
But her father told her to stop crying: "He is all right;
you will soon find out that you have no reason to be
sorrowful."

Meanwhile the other sisters could not restrain their taunts.
But she waited patiently for the dthtoticmcnt. In the morning,
when she awoke, what was her astonishment in beholding the
transformation that had taken place ! She could not believe

I \i ■ '*

i. ■ .

33«

AI/CMAC INDIAN LEGENDS.

that that was the husbp.ncl to whom she had been assigned ;
but her motlier assured her that he was the very same
one. Oh, how deU^hted slie was ! lie had applied a httlc
water and wasliin^ lo his face, and removed all imperfections
and impurities ; his cheeks were red, his rubes were splendid,
and he had all the dignity and manly bearing of a chief.
Upon this the other sisters changed their tunc, and were
enraged at the good fortune of their sister. A festival was
ordained, and they had eating, drinking, and games; and in
due time the young couple arrived at their home. The
Iriend of the bridegroom accompanied them as far as his
own village, where he left the j'oung married couple to go
on. They arrived at their destination, and were welcomed
by his mother; and k^spSadooksU (the story ends).

GLOQSCAP'a OKIGIN.

339

LX.

GLOOSCAr'S ORIGIN.

[The following information ics[)ccting Glooscnp was given
me by Gabriel 'J'lionias, »-; i'rcdorickton. I question, how-
ever, whether it does not ijfer to some other fabulous
person.]

/'^LOOSCAP was one of . vins. Before they were born,
^^ they conversed aiul consulted together how they
would better enter the world. Glooscap determined to
be born naturally ; tlie other resolved to burst through
his mother's side. These plans were carried into effect.
Glooscap was first born ; the mother died, killed by the
younger as he burst the walls of his prison. The two boys
grew up together, miraculously preserved.

After a time the younger inquired of Glooscap how the
latter could be killed. Glooscap deemeil it prudent to
conceal this, but pretended to disclose the secret, lest his
brother, who had slaughtered the mother, should also kill
him. Hut he wished at the same time to know how the
younger one could be despatched, as it might become con-
venient to perform the same operation upon him. So he
told his brother very gravely that nothing would kill him
but a blow on the head dealt with the head of a cat-tail flag.
Then <;he brother asked, "And how could you be killed?"
" By no other weapon," was the answer, " than a handful of
bird's-down."

One day the younger brother tried the experiment. Pro-
curing a cat-tail flag, he stepped up slyly behind his friend,
and gave him a smart blow on the head, which stunned him ;

340

MICMAC INDIA A' LEGENDS.

he left him on the ground for dead. But after a while he
came to ; and now it was his turn. So he collected a hand-
ful of down, and made a ball of it; and with this ijall he
struck his younger brother and killed him.

Glooscap had many enemies, visible and invisible. The
wolves were his dogs; and their dolorous howl and the
scream of the loon were notes of lamentation. These ani-
mals and birds were lamenting for their master, now that
he was gone away.

mesan^BiKS^ssswm^ll^BmUBSm

nsnn

ile he
hand-
all he

A WAR INCIDENT.

341

The
d the
2 ani-
I that

LXI.

A WAR INCIDENT.

[Gabriel Thomas, of St. Mary, gave me an account of
three war incidents, one of which, he said, occurred with
the Indians of Canada, since the conversion of those of the
Lower Provinces to Christianity. He also stated that the
names of the places in New Brunswick arc Micrnac, and
that the Indians of this latter tribe formerly owned and
occupied the place, but were driven back by the Maliseets,
whose proper designation is Ktihhus, — plural, Kuhhiisoouk,
Muskrats.]

THE Indians were all assembled in their chapel on Sun-
day for divine service, when they were suddenly and
silently surrounded by a hostile party of Mohawks. They
went out of their chapel, and their chief begged permission
of the Moliawk chief to utter three words, and to walk round
the chapel three times before the work of slaughter began.
This not unreasonable request was readily granted. So he
deliberately marched round the chapci, singing all the time ;
and as he ca" c round each time, he uttered a word. The
day was fine, and the sky cloudless; but suddenly, as he
came round the third time, the ■ ■ avens were clothed in
blackness, and a loud clap of thunder was heard, followed by
a torrent of rain. The lightning struck the Mohawks, and
prostrated and stunned them nil. Whereupon the Christian
Indians fell upon and despatched them.

1 1

III

342

MICMAC INDIAN LEGENDS.

LXII.

hi!

AN ARMY DROWNED BY A SINGLE MAN.

AT another time a Maliseet chief, with his wife and two
boys, were taken captive. On their march homeward
their provisions ran short, and the Mohawk chief told his
captive that he had dreamed a singular dream. "I dreamed,"
said he, " that we roasted one of your boys and ate him."
"Well, ' replied the other, "the boys are in your hands and
at your mercy; if you choose to make a meal of one of them,
you are at liberty to do so." Accordingly this was done.
After a short time the Mohawk dreamed the same thing
again ; and so they roasted the other boy, the father having
given his consent.

The father was bound, and could not interfere, had he
desired to do so ; and he looked on with well-dissembled
indifference. Not so the mother; she, poor thing! was
sadly afflicted, and moaned with undissembled grief. So
her husband remonstrated with the Mohawk, and urged him
to release the woman. " You have killed her children, you
have me in your power," said he ; " let this suffice. Leave
the poor woman, and let her shift for herself" To this
the other agreed, and the woman was set at liberty; she
remained behind, and the war-party, with her husband,
went on.

But they were sorely pressed for food. It was proposed
to kill one of their own men ; but they came to a lake, and
the Maliseet chief assured them that there were evidences of
beaver, and that beaver-meat was on every account to be
preferred. All hands turned out for a hunt. It was winter;
the snow was deep, and the ice thick, and the men were
unsuccessful. The captive assured them that if they would

ssic.nfTTr?'^

AN ARMY DROWNED BY A SINGLE MAN.

343

untie him and let him give directions, he would soon obtain
a supply of beaver. As no danger could result from this
experiment, and as they were sorely pinched for food, it was
determined to unloose the captive, and allow him to head
the hunting-expedition.

The lake was a singular one, — small coves made up into
the woods at short distances from each other; and in each
of these coves he directed them to cut holes, and at each
hole he placed a man, who was to keep a strict watch.
The men were all thus disposed at some distance from
each other, and each out of sight of all the rest.

His next move was to go around the lake and visit each
hole, to see what the prospect was. Approaching the first
hole, he listened and pretended to hear a beaver ; and while
the other was bent down over the hole and listening with
all his ears, an adroit and sudden push sent him headlong
under the ice. In this manner, one by one, noiselessly he
despatched every warrior, and then returned to camp and
made his report to the astonished chief. " And now," said
he, " your turn is come ; and you can try your skill upon
me." But, alas ! the poor fellow had lost all courage and all
strength of resistance. A blow despatched him ; and the
conqueror soon rejoined his wife, and with her returned to
his tribe, to report his skill in strategy and his success in
beaver-hunting.

344

MICMAC INDIAN LEGENDS.

LXIII.

A WAR-PARTY DROWNED BY TWO WOMEN.

TWO Maliseet families away above the Grand Falls on
the OolAstook (St. John River), had gone to the
hunting-ground in the fall, and had taken up their residence
there for the time being. The men were out in the woods
hunting, and the women were keeping camp, when a Mohawk
war-party came upon the camp and took the women captive.
As the women were acquainted with the river below, and the
Mohawks were not, they compelled the women to act as
pilots to the fleet. This consisted of a large number of
canoes ; and as the day was fine, these were all lashed
together in a body, forming a sort of raft, and were left to
drift with the current.

As night approached, the warriors inquired if the river was
as calm and placid below as it was there. They were assured
that this was the case ; but the women knew well where they
were, and that the Grand Falls were not far below. Night set-
tled down upon them, and the men were soon all asleep ; but
the two pilots kept wide awake. When they had approached
sufficiently near to insure the success of their bold enterprise,
and sufficiently far off to insure their own safety, the two
women quietly slipped down into the water and swam ashore,
leaving their captors to the mercy of the river. Their fleet was
soon carried over the rapids and dashed to pieces. Some of
them were awakened before the final plunge ; but they were
too far in to extricate themselves, and all perished.

The women were soon joined by some of their friends.
They stripped the slain of their clothing and ornaments, and
gathered much spoil ; then they danced all night for joy, and
were highly honored by their nation.

mfmmm^mmammmmmmmmmmmmmimmmmmm

INDIAN STRATEGY.

345

LXIV.

INDIAN STRATEGY.

;

A LARGE war-party of the Mohawks, coming down the
"^^ river, were discovered by a solitary hunter. This
man was near ine shore, and he saw them pass. His canoe,
was near ; but he had taken the precaution to hide it in the
woods, knowing that they would land at night. He waited
until dark, and then launched his canoe and glided down
cautiously until he discovered their fires on the shore. He
then landed, carried his canoe on his back round the enemy,
and again placed it on the river. He held on his way without
stopping until he reached the village to which he belonged,
where he spread the alarm. But unfortunately the warriors
were nearly all absent on a hunting-expedition, and only
three men could be mustered ; but these resolutely under-
took the task of defending their wives and little ones. Each
warrior manned a canoe, and all pushed up the river. They
selected their ground, and quietly awaited the approach of
the foe.

The place selected as the most suitable for their purpose
was the extreme end of a long point, formed by a sharp
angle in the river. Here they watched until the fleet of the
war-party hove in sight. They now proceeded to action ;
and their plan was to deceive the enemy in respect to their
numbers. The three canoes now showed themselves, and
seemed to discover the enemy; then they stopped, and
the foremost one landed, and dragged the canoe up after
him into the bushes, followed successively by the other two.
The enemy also immediately landed, and watched to learn
the strength of the other party. Their position was on the

1 }

? 1

' .

Hi''

'•|l

346

MICMAC INDIAN LEGENDS.

opposite shore, and so far up the stream that the river below
the point was concealed from their view. This was what the
others had calculated upon ; and no sooner had the foremost
one landed, than ho hastily conveyed his canoe across the
point and replaced it in the water, — so that by the time the
third one had landed, the first one was ready to land again ;
and thus they proceeded successively, while their "friends"
on the opposite bank watched and kept count. They contin-
ued this operation until dark, when they lighted their torches
and carried on the work far into the night. The amazed
Mohawks counted until they discovered, as they supposed,
that their enemies far outnumbered them, and wisely con-
cluded that prudence would be the better part of valor and
that they would better sue in time for peace.

About equidistant from the two hos* .e camps, in the
middle of the river, there was a rock ; towards this, soon
after daylight, a solitary canoe from the Mohawk party was
seen making its way with a " flag of truce." One of the
three on the other side, assuming the dignity of chief, moved
over in stately composure to meet the other. Terms of
peace were proposed, which after due delay and consideration
were accepted ; and, finally satisfied, they dug a grave, buried
their weapons, and never afterward violated the peace. In-
dians know how to appreciate generalship as well as brute
force. In this instance brute force was used ; for, during the
discussion of peace preliminaries, the Maliseetwho pretended
to be a chief seized a war-club, and striking a rock, shivered
it at a blow ; this strength of arm was believed to have had
no small influence on the other party in bringing them to
terms.

wmmmmmmamimmmmmm

u.mm.mmwmmmm

THE ANIMAL-TAMERS.

347

LXV.

THE ANIMAL-TAMERS.

A WAY ofif in the depths of the forest lived an old couple,
-^~^ who had three grown-up children, — two sons and a
daughter. They lived in the usual way ; but the boys after
a while began to cast about for some better mode of living.
The elder suggested that with a little ingenuity and a little
magic they could obtain a livelihood more readily than by the
precarious method of hunting. " Let us learn the languages
of the animals, collect all kinds, tame them, and carry them
away to exhibit and sell." "But how can we manage thcm.>"
asked the younger brother. " I will gather the horns of all
the animals, and you may gather specimens of the quills and
feathers of all the birds; and I shall be able to understand
their language by listening to them with a horn placed
against my ear. You will burn the feathers out of doors;
and when the birds smell the odor of the burning quills, each
kind will gather to its own, and you can easily catch and
tame them."

So, having arranged their plans, they began to put them
into operation. The elder one hunted for horns, and was
seven years in collecting them; the other hunted for quilb
the same length of time.

Having collected his horns, the one could easily under-
stand the animals and decoy them into his power, and by
this means collected a large menagerie; while the other,
having burned his pile of feathers and loaded the surround-
ing atmosphere with the perfume of them, found himself
soon surrounded with every bird of every wing, which he
took care to secure.

I'VirinilH

348

M/CMAC INDIAN' LEGENDS.

Their next move was to go to the capital, the residence of
the king, and there exhibit their collections, and also dispose
of them to such as wished to purchase. They inquired for
the king, and sent him word respecting the object of their
visit to his city. They asked for a suitable building in
which to lodge and keep their beasts and birds ; they were
supplied with one, and also with seven men to assist them.
The king made strict inquiries, before granting this request,
respecting their appearance and general bearing. Such a
report was made on these points as satisfied the king, and
so every facility was afforded them for prosecuting their
business.

People flocked from all quarters, proclamation having been
made throughout the city and environs that two strangers
had arrived with all kinds of beasts and birds, for show and
for sale. After all the others had been admitted, the king
and queen came with their children. Many of the animals
had already been sold; but specimens of each kind remained,
and one of each was presented to the king, as a compensa-
tion for the privileges granted. The king accepted the
present, but took good care to give one in return, and not
to be outdone in generosity.

The two men had now accumulated a large quantity of
gold and silver; so what remained of their stock was be-
stowed in largess upon the poor. They took their money
and returned home, where they divided the spoil and made
arrangements for the future. The older brother agreed to
take care of the aged father, and the younger to take the
homestead and care for the mother and the sister. The
elder one married and began life anew. They divided
the land and cultivated it.

The younger man remained for some time unmarried, his
sister taking care of the house. She cultivated a garden of
her own, and assisted in the more laborious work on the
farm. In her garden she had many beautiful white flowers.
These for a time were flourishing and beautiful; but one

THE ANIMAL-TAMERS.

349

morning she found thcni all torn off and withered. She felt
very sad, and told her brother so. Now it happened that he
was a very sedate, kind, charitable, and pious man, though
his brother was the reverse ; and he divined the cause of
the destruction of the white ilowers. It was, he felt sure,
the work of a bad spirit, lie told his sister to rise betimes
in the morning, and she would see a man destroying her
favorites. So, bright and early, she arose and peeped out ;
sure enough, there was a man in her garden, at the work of
destruction. She returned and told her brother ; he directed
her to keep away from her garden seven days, and all would
come out right again. This she did ; and when she went to
look, lo ! her flowers had bloomed again in all their fresh-
ness and beauty.

Soon after this the younger brother brought home a wife.
Then the father was taken ill, and seemed about to die.
The younger brother was very anxious, and wished to do
something for him ; but the other did not seem to mind it.
He thought the old man's time had come ; and as he had a
wife and several children to look after, he did not deem it
worth while to take much pains to save his father, even if it
could be done. The old man died, and they buried him.
The younger brother endeavored to improve the opportunity
by admonishing the elder one to prepare for his own demise.
But the latter Vi'ould not listen to him, and laughed at his
scruples and fears, still continuing in his own course. Not
long after, he too sickened and died ; he left his property to
his wife and children. The mother and sister died also, and
the only survivor was the younger brother.

His sister-in-law became lonely and dissatisfied with the
place, and wished to remove ; but her brother-in-law dis-
suaded her. " My brother gave you everything, and you
have a good chance to make a livelihood here," he said;
" but if you remove, I see no chance for you." So she
remained.

Some time after this the surviving brother was taken sick.

inmm,

350

MI CM AC INDIAN LEGENDS.

At the prospect of death, he earnestly prayed that he and all
his family mij^ht be tal<cn to heaven together. This request
was granted. In the evening he died ; and the next morning
nothing was seen of his house or anything pertaining to him.
The sister-in-law and her family awoke and looked out; to
their astonishment, all was gone.

[Related Nov. 10, 1870.]

ttl

. 1,

IhPI

'"1

nd all
:qucst
jrning
) him.
It; to

THE BEAVER MAGICIANS AND THE JUG IlSll. 351

LXVI.

THE BEAVER MAGICIANS AND THE BIG FISH.

" I ^HERE was once a large Indian village where in the
-^ dead of the winter food became scarce, and a good
deal of suffering was the result. No moose, bear, caribou,
or beaver was to be obtained. Finally, one of the women
encouraged her husband to try his luck again, and he started
off on his snow-shoes. After a while he fell in with other
snow-shoe tracks, as though quite a company of hunters had
been there. Taking their trail and following it, he came out
after a while to a lake, and looking around, up and down the
lake, he saw away at the farther end a solitary wigwam,
from which smoke was ascending. He approached it and
entered. A very old man lay there asleep, while a caribou's
head was roasting before the fire. The old man aroused
himself at the entrance of the stranger, and welcoming him
in inquired whether he saw any young men in the woods as
he came. He replied that he did not. But after a while
they came in, bringing with them a large amount of venison.
" What has kept you so long? " inquired the old man. '• The
caribou head has been done a long time." They were soon
ready for their meal, and the stranger shared the repast.
After this the old man inquired whence he had come ; he
told him, and also related how they were faring at his vil-
lage. " We are in great trouble," he said, " for want of
food." "We must assist our friends," said the old man to
his hunters. " Tie him up a good back-load of meat and let
him take it home." This was done, and he departed.

Arriving at his own lodge, he deposited his burden accord-
ing to the custom outside the lodge, went in, and sent out
the woman to fetch it in, telling her he had a small bundle of

352

MIC MAC INDIAN LEGENDS.

|i I

food. What was their surprise on opening the pack to find
that it was poplar bark, instead of meat, — food for beavers
instead of food for human beings. The old man had been
deceived. He had supposed himself in an Indian's hut, when
he had been the guest of an old beaver and his litters to the
third generation.' lie had fed on poplar bark instead of
beefsteak, and had brought home a back-load of the same,
supposing it was moosc-mcat. [Magicians of all nations and
ages are supposed to have the power of making things seem
what they are not.]

liut the community drew one inference from the occur-
rence. They concluded that they had at least discovered
traces of beavers, and setting the hunter to retrace his steps
and lead the way, they started for game. They killed a bear
on the way, and returned to camp to supply the hungry ones
with food. This done, they again started for the beaver-
house. What was the old man's surprise to find that his
own track was there in the snow, but all the others had
vanished ? When they reached the lake, there was no
smoke and no hut. The old fellow who had played beaver
had been nothing else than a wily magician. He had prac-
tised a double deception upon his dupe. All his senses had
been deceived, and the magician had taken himself quietly
out of the way. So the hunters returned empty-handed to
the camp.

The hero of the talc now proposed to go and hunt whales.
The others objected. They proposed an excursion to hunt

1 This, my informant assures me, is the case with the beavers. The old ones
with their whelps, with the young of last year's litter, and that of the year before
the last, all own and occupy one wees (beaver house), and work together as one
family. To ascertain such a fact of natural history is worth writin/j down the
story. The beavers get their growth in four years, and begin to breed when
three years old, and do not leave the old homestead until then. Thus the
family consists of four generations, — first, the two old ones, called Kesegomskook;
secondly, their young of the year before last, called Piililmskook ; thirdly, the
young of last year, called Kttjebdneheechk ; and fourthly, the young of this year,
called Peewichk. They may bring forth as many as six at a litter. I am told
that the wild geese do not begin to lay until they are three years old.

mmmmmmm^^fmmmifK^fm

THE HEAVER MACICIAXS AND THE BIG I'lSlf. 353

white ' .ars. WvX white bcar's-mtit was poisonous, ho said,
it would nuke them sick to cat it; and he insisted on hiok-
ing for a whale. " The wind blows," they urged, " and it is no
weather for whale-hunting." But th.- weather cleared up,
and the sea became as smooth as til ; the canoe and the
spears were not called into requisition. His pccpooi^zoDkiin
(a kind of wind instrument) was taken in hand, and the
parties went down to the shore. There he sounded his pipe,
and the others watched ; but no whale made his appearance,
and the rest all returned home. Our friend, however, perse-
vered. A whale was seen spouting in the distance, which
listened with rapt attention to the flute. It sounded like
the cries of his mate. So he pulled for the shore, and before
he was aware, he found himself hifh and dry. The Indian
hastened home and made report. All turned out and helped
cut up and carry home the meat; they saved the blubber,
which they also conveyed home for domestic use. Portions
were sent round to all the neighbors, and after this there
was no want during the remainder of the season.

354

MICMAC INDIAN LEGENDS.

LXVII.

CAUGHT BY A HAIR-STRING.

.' t

AWAY in the woods there was a large Indian town on
the outskirts of which resided two old people who
had but two children, and they were daughters ; both were
very fair and beautiful, but they were shy and coy, and did
not allow themselves to be seen by everybody. They
rejected all offers Of marriage.

The chief of the village had a fine son who was expected
to take the office when his father should abdicate or die.
This young man knew of the two belles of the village, and
sought the hand of one of them in marriage.

He interested his father and some of his friends in the
matter, and in due time they repaired to the lodge where
the girls resided, to enter upon negotiations. The girls kept
themselves out of sight behind a screen. The evening
passed pleasantly away. They ate, drank, and engaged in
games ; in due time the old chief asked of the father the
hand of one of his daughters for his son. He replied that he
would give an answer the next day.

In the mean time the young women, who had of course
heard all that had passed, were questioned as to their wishes
in the matter. They decided in the negative ; and word to
that effect was sent to the old chief, the father himself
carrying the message.

Now it happened that there resided in the village a fellow
who was ill-looking and stupid, a poor hand at every kind of
w ork. He, hearing of the ill-success of the young chief, said
jocosely, " I could get one of these girls, if I chose." Forth-

PPilWI

^mmm^m^mss^S^BSSi

»«rft(«a.ai4s(»»*wj.«r«»i«d*!ii!M

CAUGHT BY A HAIR-STRING.

355

with some of his companions proposed to accompany him
and suggested that they should go that very evening -^o
m suddenly upon them, just as they were beginning their
evenmg meal. This plan was carried out, and the girls had
no time to jump behind their screen, so that the boys had a
fair opportunity to look into their beautiful faces They
were invited to eat; they said they had eaten their suppers,
but yielded to the importunity of the old people.

After supper they engaged in various games, one of
which was called the Mimgwddokadijlk ; this was played by
hiding in the ashes a small ring which was fished for by the
parties, who had hidden their faces when the rin- was
secreted. First, ^ne would plunge a pointed stick hi the
ashes, and if he missed i^ the other would take the stick and
try; the one who found the ring won the game.

Thus the evening passed; but not a word was lisped
respecting matrimony, nor did the young women vouchsafe
a single word to any one. When it grew late, the visitors
went home, and the young man who had boasted jestin<.ly
about his confidence of success was somewhat rallied by his
comrades upon his failure.

Time passed, and the same young man went into the woods
a hunting with a companion, from whom he was separated
during the course of the day. He met an old woman wrinkled
and bent down, whose hair was adorned with a great dis-
play of sakalobeek^ (hair-strings) which hung down over her
shou ders. binding up her hair and then traihV,- down to
her feet^ '.Where are you goingP- she asked U.e youn!
man. Nowhere in particular." he replied. " Where are you
from, noognmee (grandmother) ? " he asked in return. " I h.ve
not come far," she replied; "but look you here, are you
anxious to marry one of those beauties?" "Oh bv no
means ! " he replied. " But I can assist you. and tell you how

his Micmac Dictionary gives the spctg i^if:!': ^ ^"""'- ""'■ ^^"' '"

3S6

MICMAC IXDIAX LEGENDS.

"i>

you can gain her affections and obtain her for your wife, if
you say the word," she continued. He inquired how he was
to proceed. " Take this," said she, handing him one of the
hair-strings that hung '.n profusion over her shoulders, " roll
it up and carry it in your pouch for a while, and then
go watch your opportunity and toss it upon her back; but
take care that she does not see you, and that no one knows of
the matter but yourself" So he took the sagulobe, and did as
directed. Selecting a few of his comrades, he called upon
the parties, taking care to bolt in suddenly upon them just as
they were about to begin their supper. The girls had not
time to hide ; the parents treated the visitors with great
kindness and attention, and soon an opportunity ' 'irred to
toss the sagulobe upon the back of one of the girls. Soon
after this the young men retired to their homes.

A day or two later, as the young man was walking alone in
the woods, he saw coming toward him the girl to whom he had
made love by tossing at her the sagulobe. The old woman who
had given him the string was a witch, and the string was a mag-
ical £Mare that had caught the heart of the girl, and she had
gone out to meet the object of her affections. She first ad-
dressed him. Tavie dle?n ? (" Whither are you going? ") " I
am going a hunting," he answered. " But whence have you
come, and what are you doing out here alone? Are you
lost? " " Oh, no, I am not lost," she answered. " You would
better return home," he said, " and I will go with you and tell
your parents that I have found you wandering in the woods,
not knowing the way home." To this proposal she agreed.
When they arrived, he said to the parents, " I found your
daughter lost in the woods, and have brought her home to you."
Whereupon the father inquired of the young man if he would
like to take her to be his wife. He answered in the affirma-
tive, and without any ceremony save a festival, the matter
was settled.

Some time after this the husband inquired of his wife,
" Where did you get that pretty sagulobe ? " " I found it in my

11,

p^nviTT^W'.'^ ' "JWi^'W!-

•"■W^i^'WUPfPPWppppipWfPiipillB

CAUGHT BY A HAIR STRING.

357

^ntiibooiik' (the place where I was accustomed to sit in the
wigwam)."

This man now felt disposed to assist the young chief in
obtaining the other girl. So he went and inquired if he was
still desirous of marrying her. Learning that this was the
case, he told him how he could succeed. So tlicy went into
the woods together, ana soon met the friendly fairy, who
questioned the chief as she had questioned the other, gave
him a sagulobe, and told him what to do with it. He proceeded
according to directions, visited the ledge, bolting in suddenly
at the evening meal ; watching his opportunity, he tossed the
magic string upon the back of the girl. It dropped down on
the boughs, and was picked up in due time and exercised its
magical influence over the heart of the finder, leading her to
fall desperately in love with the young chief He in the
mean time had gone home and kept himself very close for a
few days. When he went out a hunting, he met the object
of his search, as the other had done, escorted her home, and
told her parents that she was lost, though, in answer to his
inquiries on that point when they met, she had assured him
that she was not lost. Her father inquired if he would like
to take her home with him. He replied in the affirmative,
and led her away to his father's lodge. A great festival
followed, and the young men prepared for their young chief a
large and commodious wigwam. Wcchoostijik (the two men
whose wives were sisters) were on the best of terms and
were much together.

One day the young chief askc' his friend if he would like
to learn to be a swift runner. He said, " I would." " I will
tell you how you can do it," said tlie other. " Go, gather
some feathers, and let them fly when the wind blows hard,
and run after them. You will soon be able to outstrip the
wind; and the art once acquired will be permanent. You
will be able to run swiftly ever after." He went and tried it;
he found that it was even so. Having thus by the aid of
magic and practice acquired the power of fleet running, he

358

MICMAC INDIAN LEGENDS.

hi I

made further progress. The young chief showed him how
he could become strong, and improve his eyesight and his
skill in discovering animals in hunting. " Dress yourself up
in the ugliest-looking clothes you can find, putting them on
outside your ordinary dress. Fight the first man you can
provoke to attack you. When he seizes you, slip out of
your rags and run ; then you can escape after that from any
man or beast that may get you in his grasp."

This was done, and he soon met a crazy man, whom he
insulted and provoked ; as soon as he was attacked, he
slipped out from his harlequin dress, which he left in his
assailant's hands, who imagined the wearer to be in it; so he
beat it furiously and left it for dead, the other looking on
and laughing the while, but at a safe distance.

" Take a handful of moose's hair," he said to him, " clasp
it in a roll firmly between your thumb and fingers, then hold
them up in the wind and blow the hair away; you will be
able to see all the moose that are about you for a long dis-
tance around. Take the hair of any other animal and do the
same thing with it, the effect will be the same : you will see
these animals, wherever they are." He took his lesson and
put it in practice, and the result was as predicted.^

Some time after this, in his rambles he entered a house.
The man of the house was away, but the mistress was at
home. He inquired where her husband was ; she pointed to
a field, and told him that he was out there. He looked, but
could see nothing except a flock of geese.

He now asked his friend how he could learn to see fishes ;
he was directed to gather all kinds of fish-bones, to burn
them, pound them to dust, and blow them up into the wind.
This he did ; he could now see the fish and call them to
him.

He was specially interested in the whales. They are strong,

^ In order to be able to see birds where they are not visible to common eyes,
he must take their quills and strip off the feathery parts, pick them to pieces,
blow them into the air, and look in the direction in which they fly.

■Jill „i)iwiif^^^p^m^«iinF9Pi!""ip*i«ppmpvi

-Sr!.

CAUGHT BY A HAIR STRIXG.

359

and he desired to acquire physical strength. So he burned a
piece of bootftpdwigun (whalebone), pounded it fine, and then,
taking his stand on a rock that juts out into the sea, blew
the dust away seaward. He immediately saw an immense
number of whales in the distance. Again he blew his whale-
bone dust towards them, and they moved towards him. The
young chief assured him that whales never die unless they
are killed, and that with their assistance he could obtain a
longevity that should border on immortality. Seven times
he repeated the process, and one large, powerful monster
came and placed himself alongside the rock on which he
stood, and inquired what was wanted. " I want you to make
me strong," said the man. " Very well," the whale answered ;
" put your hand in my mouth, and you will find what you
want." So he thrust his hand in the monster's mouth, and
feeling around found a golden key. "Take that, and you
can accomplish whatever you desire. It will defend you
against the attacks of enemies, wild beasts, sickness, or any
other calamity." So he took the key and went home.

Everything prospered in the place. The inhabitants were
well supplied with food ; the animals multiplied and could be
called right up to their dvvellings. They were protected
from the attacks of hostile Indians, and so increased and
multiplied.

By and by the father-in-law became old and feeble, and
the chief told his brother-in-law that the old man was ill, and
asked if he could not be made well and young again. But
the other objected to this, and thought that they would better
let Nature take her course.

After a while the old chief died, and his son succeeded
him. He offered to abdicate in favor of zvechoosiV (his wife's
brother-in-law). The latter declined the ofifer, but he rendered
his friend all due assistance as long as he lived.

f^l^

360

MICMAC INDIAN LEGENDS.

LXVIII.

TUMILKOONTAOO (BROKEN-WING).

i :

i^.

I"! .<

I '

AN Indian family resided on the sea-shore. They had
two sons, the oldest of whom was married and had a
family of small children. They lived principally by fishing,
and their favorite food was eels.

Now it came to pass at a certain time that the weather was
so stormy they could not fish. The wind blew fiercely night
and day, and they were greatly reduced by hunger. Finally
the old father told his boys to walk along the shore, and
perhaps they might find a fish that had floated ashore, as
sometimes happened. So one of the young men started off
to try his luck in this line ; when he reached a point where
the wind blew so fiercely that he could hardly stand against
it, he saw the cause of all the trouble. At the end of the
point there was a ledge of rocks, called in Micmac Kivtf-
sopskedk' (Rocky Point), extending far out; at low water the
rocks were separated from one another by the shallow water,
but were nearly all covered when the tide was in. On the
farthest rock, a large bird, the storm-king, was standing, flap-
ping his wings and causing all the trouble by the wind he
raised. The Indian planned to outwit him. He called to the
big bird, and addressing him as Nikskamich' (my grand-
father), said, " Are you cold?" He answered, "No." The
man replied, " You are cold ; let me carry you ashore on my
back." " Do so," was the answer. So the man waded over
to the rock on which the bird was sitting, took him on his
back, and carefully carried him from rock to rock, wading
over the intervening spaces of shoal water. In going down

BIPfll»gj|iw|WBWw^pwpiiif w^;pwip). iiiinTOw;ifi«. '."y ^piwwiiP

itii&),£mMBikiciii't^^it>mMf

TUMILK'OONTAOO (BROA'EX- IV/XG).

36r

the last rock, he stumbled on purpose, but pretended that it
was an accident; and the poor old bird fell and broke one
of his wings. The man seemed very sorry, and immediately
proceeded to set the bone and bind up the wing. He then
directed the old fellow to keep quiet and not move his wings
until the wounded one healed. He now inquired if it pained
him much, and was told that it did not. " Remain there and
I will visit you again soon, and bring you some food." He
now returned home, and found that the wind had all died
away; there was a dead calm^ so that before long they
were supplied with a great abundance of food, as the eels
were plenty and easily taken. But there can be too much
even of a good thing. Calm weather continued for a succes-
sion of days, causing the salt water to be covered with a
sort of scum. The Indians call it ogdkpl'gcdk\ and say it is
the result of sickness and vomiting among the larger fish ;
this scum prevents the fishermen from seeing into the
water, and consequently is adverse to eel-spearing. This took
place on the occasion referred to, and so they sought for a
remedy. The big bird was visited and his wing examined.
It was sufficiently recovered to admit of motion, and he was
told to keep both his wings going, but that the motion must
be steady and gentle. This produced the desired effect. It
made a slight ripple on the water which dispersed the
ogokpcgedk' (scum), and the eel-fishery could be attended to
without trouble.

After a while the older brother proposed to try for larger
fish. " Let us go and hunt for whales," said he. " But how
shall we call them? " his brother asked. "With our pecpoo-
gwokun (flute)," ^ was the answer. So away they started on
their whaling expedition; but it proved a failure, as the
whales would not come.

^The pecpoogivSkHij is a wind instrument of any I<ind, as a flute, horn, or
trumpet. I have been unable so far to learn the form of the ancient Indian
pipe. But the name pecpoogiuSkiin, I am assured, continually occurs in the
ancient stories. Compare the first syllable, peep, with pipe.

362

MICMAC INDIAN LEGENDS.

i%<i

' \ ►

:'. W

Their next project was of a different kind. At a long dis-
tance from tlieir home, there was a settlement of white people,
the city of a king. They started on a visit to that city to see
what they could find to do. Between them and the city
a river flowed, over which was a bridge, guarded by a sentry
at each end; no one was allowed to pass over this bridge
except the king or some of the royal family. The brothers
attempted to pass, but were stopped and positively refused
a passage over. So they retired and consulted. They knew
of a powerful soporific, and this they sought and prepared.
It operated on the olfactory organs; they brought it to
the sentries and proposed it as a specific for the headache.
They took it, and eagerly snuffed the odor. Very soon they
were sound asleep, and the two men passed over the bridge.
They walked freely about the town unsuspected. They
learned where the king's residence was, and ascertained that
it was surrounded by seven enclosures, one beyond another;
and that these were passed by seven gates, at each one of
which a sentry was posted.

The younger brother aspired to be the king's son-in-law,
and the plan proposed for securing the object was first to
steal some article belonging to the princess, and having car-
ried this off, the capture of the princess herself would easily
follow. But the project was difficult and dangerous.

First and foremost, the seven sentries had to be passed.
This required manoeuvring. When they reached the first
gate, the sentry demanded their name, and they answered,
" Piitaoo (Broth)." They pretended to belong to the royal
stables and to have business at the palace. So the guards
allowed them to pass, never dreaming that they had come
over the royal bridge.

Reaching the palace, they concealed themselves until all
were supposed to be asleep. In the mean time they had
ascertained the location of the apartments of the princess.
After all was still, the man quietly approached her window,
pushed it up, and entered the room. The princess awoke

7VMILK00NTA00 {BROKEN-WhXG).

363

and called out, "Who arc you?" " Putaoo (Broth)," he
answered. Mc had given the same name when hailed by
the sentries at the bridge and at the palace-gates. She
screamed, and he caught a quilt from her bed and escaped.
Mis comrade joined him, and in the darkness and confusion
they easily made their escape, and concealed themselves until
morning. Meanwhile all was noise and excitement at the
palace. Every person sprang up and rushed to and fro to
secure the intruder. A cannon was fired, and the whole city
roused, but the men escaped.

The next day they crossed the bridge without trouble.
They reached their home and related their adventures ; but
the princess-stealing project turned out a failure, as did his
brother's attempt to catch the big fish from the deep. He
learned to fish in shoaler water and keep nearer home.

come

364

MIC MAC INDIAN LEGENDS.

LXIX.

A PRIEST LOST IN THE WOODS WITH HIS
SICRVANT PETER.

;ii ^

m 1

■<>.;

! * l! L

THERE was once a priest who had a servant named
Peter. One day they went into the woods liunting
partridges, intending to be gone several days. They made
provisions for the excunion, and Peter started with a licavy
load on his back. They camped out for several nights, and
finally got lost. Eor some days they wandered about until
their clothes were torn to tatters, as they had to pass through
a thickly tangled undergrowth. After being almost worn out
and starved to death, the priest directed Peter to climb a
high tree and see if he could discover a human habitation.
He succeeded in seeing a hut in a clearing a long way off.
They hastened thither as fast as their weary limbs would
carry them. About dark they reached the hut, and found
it occupied by a man, his wife, and two daughters, who re-
ceived them kindly and prepared food for them. Peter ate
ravenously, but the priest was more cautious ; he ate spar-
ingly, for he well knew that it would be dangerous to indulge
his appetite too freely. The man of the house was absent,
but he came home in the evening. The house was small,
the people poor, and the sleeping accommodations scanty.
But the two girls offered to take the floor and allow the
strangers to occupy their room. To this arrangement the
priest would not consent. He and Peter lay down together
on the floor.

Now, it happened that the woman of the house had made
a large pot of pea-soup, had poured it into a crock and
put it away for the morning's breakfast. Peter and the
priest had seen where the crock was placed ; and the latter,

.■■■."<j ■j-.i(A><''"iw wniiMW'wapi^nw

A J'A'/JiSr LOST AV THE WOODS.

365

HIS

t named

hunting
cy made

a heavy
^hts, and
Dut until

through
worn out

cHnib a
ibitation.

way off.
IS would
id found

who re-
nter ate
ite spar-
I indulge
; absent,
IS small,
1 scanty.
How the
nent the
together

ad made
ock and
and the
e latter,

whose appetite had not been appeased, watched the crock
with longing eyes.

Some lime in the night, and when the household were all
asleep, poor Peter's gnawing hunger led him to covet the
pea- soup. He proposed to the priest that they make a raid
upon the jar; but the priest objected, because it would be
stealing. They must wait till morning, when the mistress of
the house would give them their breakfast. They had taken
no money with them, and therefore had no means of re-
munerating their host. Peter could not be persuadetl that
there could be much harm in taking some of the soup just
to appease his craving appetite. After a while the priest
concluded to find the crock, first help himself, and then give
Peter a share. Having helped himself, which he was obliged
to do with his hands for the want of a spoon or dish, he
came with his two hands full for Peter; but missing his way
in the total darkness, he lost, his bearings, stumbled into the
girls' room, and landed his cargo of hardened pea-soup on
their bed.

The second time he was more successful, and Peter
received his portion. He now proceeded a third time to
the crock, and plunged in his two hands in his own behalf,
when, lo ! they stuck fast, — he could not disengage them.
He called Peter to his aid, but Peter could not withdraw
the crock. They were obliged to go out-of-doors and break
it. This was a sad, mortifying scrape to get into. They
carefully covered up the fragments in order to hide their
mischief. " Shame ! shame on us ! " said the priest. " This
serves me just right; it is a judgment upon me for going a
third time to the crock. For the first and second time there
was some excuse, as we were hungry; but that should have
sufficed."

Soon a sharp contention was heard in the room where the
double portion of hardened pea-soup had been misappropri-
ated ; and the coming of the mother to settle the difficulty
increased the mortification of the priest, as it revealed the

i< ' I

It';

366

A//CA/AC /A'D/AjV LEGEXDS.

'U'

i'l

extent and embarrassing nature of tlie mischief. Nothing
remained but to get away as early as possible ; they did so,
urging as their reason that their home was not very far,
and that their clothes were so torn they were not fit to
be seen.

When they were a good distance from the house, the
priest halted and spent some time in prayer. He had
done wrong, he said. First, he should not have under-
taken a partridge-hunt on so large a scale; the time woidd
have been better spent in devotion. Then, this crock, — to go
and steal ! Alas ! that was a terrible scrape for a priest.
He must pray and do heavy penance, or he would not be
forgiven.

But Peter was not so serious. To him it appeared a
capital joke ; he could not restrain his laughter. He argued
that to steal to satisfy one's hunger is not a very great sin.
He admitted that it would not do to carry anything home
without the knowledge and consent of the owners ; and as
to praying, that was good and proper of course, but there
was a time for all things. If we were to pray all day, how
could the wants of the body be provided for? The pea-soup
scrape he could not help laughing about whenever he thought
of it, and he did not think that the sin was very great. He
assured the priest that he was making too serious an affair
of it.

The priest thought diffe ontly, and could not help feeling
mortified and ashamc! 'ong after they reached home. He
had to command the jocose servant to cease talking about
it. Peter complied with the letter of the command, but
could not forbear for a good while afterward occasionally
proposing another expedition for partridges. But he could
never again prevail upon the priest to venture far into the
forest. His master's hunting expeditions were of but a few
hours' duration, and extended only a short distance.

[Related by Nancy Jeddore, Dec. 2, 1870.]

■

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A FAIRY TALE.

367

LXX.

A FAIRY TALE.

[Newel Jeddore, Jim Paul, and Prosper NcvvcII were some
years ago passing along up the Miisquedobit River, near its
ewbouchurc, when they came to a place where the bluff was
high. Jim Paul informed his companions that it was reported
to be a haunt of Wiguladumooch', or Fairies. As a proof of
the reality of their existence in that locality, he told them the
following story.]

"J^ED JEDDORE, Newel Jeddore's grandfather, was one
-*■ ^ day stopping near the haunt of the fairies, when he
took upon himself to insult them and challenge them to a
fight. He pulled off his coat, and cursing them called upon
them to come on if they dared ; but no fairy appeared to
accept the challenge or revenge the insult. So he lay down
and went to sleep. When he awoke, he found himself tied
hand and foot. He could see no cords ; but he was unable
to free himself. He called out, "Who tied me?" Nccn
(" It was I "), responded a voice from the cliff. " Oh, untie
me ! " he cried, "and I will never insult you again." Where-
upon he felt the hands of some one passing over his hands
and ankles, as if untying the cords, and soon found himself
free.

[After Jim Paul had finished the story, some one of the
party felt a disposition to try if they could raise the fairies.
One of them shouted, Alasoodwneikoop ho (" Ho ! come to

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368

MICxMAC INDIAN LEGENDS.

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prayers ") ! A voice far up the rocks responded, Alasoodu-
meikecp ho ("Ho! come to prayers")! Another of the
party shouted, Keloowl^l ho (" Ho ! come and get your
food ") ! A voice far up the rocks responded^ Keloowol ho !
(" Ho ! come and get your food ") !]

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A WONDERFUL BULUS-HIDE BELT.

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LXXI.

-«

A WONDERFUL BULL'S-HIDE BELT.

' I "HERE were once two old people who had one son
-*- about fifteen years old (wecgijik kcescgook). One
day he was walking out and saw a man skinning a bull. He
asked the man what he was doing; the man told him that he
was skinning a beautiful bull that died that day. The boy
asked him if he would sell him a strip of the hide a few
inches broad, cut from the very top of the back. Pie told
hhn he would. So he went home and asked his father to
give him a little money. " What do you want of it? " asked
his father. " I want to buy a piece of raw-hide for a belt."
" But I have no money to give you ; ask the man to trust
you." So he went over and requested the man to trust him.
This he was i,i, villing to do, but he offered him a strip of the
hide ''or a ^^y'z work. This condition was accepted; the
boy ^vcnt to work, and performed an amazing amount of
labor, fully as much as any ordinary mnn would do in a
week. At the close of the day the man cut him off a strip of
the bi'll's hide from the part that extended along the back,
from Ihe neck to the tail, and which in Micmac was called
ootokoobaloiv. The man asked him what he was going to
do with it, and he told him he was going to l.:arn to be a
doctor.

The boy took home the strip of raw-hide, dressed it, and
made a belt of it. He did not remove the hair. One night
he dreamed that a ivan came and told him to cut a few hairs
from the belt, tie thci i up, and ^hen find seven more bulls and

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370

MIC MAC INDIA iV LEGENDS.

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cut a small bunch of hairs from each of their backs ; he told
him further that he would then become a very good cattle-
doctor, that his skill would continue seven years, that during
the same period he was to use the hairs cut up fine for
medicine, and that with this belt he could by wishing obtain
whatever he desired.

The next morning he followed out the directions given
him in his dream. He carefully cut a small bunch of hairs
from the belt, then went and found, one after another, seven
live bulls, from whose backs he cut a small bunch of hairs
and tied them up. He cut them up fine as often as he had
to doctor an ox.

He then started on a tour of cattle-doctoring. He soon
learned that a rich gentleman had a fine, beautiful bull,
which he greatly prized, that was sick. He went and
examined the animal, and told the owner that he was a cattle-
doctor. The owner set him to work. First, he made a slight
incision in the leg to start the blood ; after this he inserted
his medicine and closed the wound. He then S(-/aped round
the roots of the bull's horns, arid rubbed in the medicine.
He directed water to be brought, in which the animal should
be washed all over, and then that something should be given
him to eat. He went home, but returned the next day to
visit his patient. He found him perfectly well. The owner
asked him how much his bill was; he replied that he had no
specific charge, but would leave it entirely to the generosity
of the other. The man offered him a ivcnjoodcdm (ox) ; but
he did not want animals, he wanted money. " Well," said
the man, " I would not have lost the bull for fifty pounds ;
if that will satisfy you, you shall have it." "That will do,"
said ♦^hc boy, pocketing the money. This very successful
beginning encouraged him to proceed. Na kcloolk Hbdti^gii
(" Now, that was good luck"). When he came home, he
gave the money to his father, who laid it up. After this he
travelled about and practised cattle-doctoring with great
success.

A WONDERFUL BULUS-HIDE BELT.

He used to sleep with his belt under his head, and one
night he dreamed that a man came to him and told him to
go and place his belt in a certain large pasture. He must
go the next day, but must get both his breakfast and his
dinner first, and then he must wait until the same hour of the
day, when he would find a very beautiful hull which he
might lead away as his own. He followed these directions,
and left the belt the following afternoon. The next day, at
exactly the same hour, he returned to the place, and there
found one of the most beautiful animals of the ox kind that
his eyes ever beheld. As he drove him along home, every
one who saw him admired him, and the news spread in all
directions.

Not far off was a city in which the king resided. The
king heard of this wonderful bull, and desired to see him.
So the boy went to the city, taking his pet with him. Now,
it happened that the animal could understand his master ;
they could converse together, or at least the bull knew all
that was said to him, and so was informed where they were
going, and what the object of their journey was.

The king was wonderfully taken with the beauty of the
bull, and wanted to buy him. But the owner would not sell
him at any price. Now it happened that the king himself
had an animal of the same kind that was considered a marvel.
But this was quite eclipsed by that of the stranger. The
king's bull was a great fighter. He could conquer anything, —
bull, dog, lion, bear, or any other animal, — and the king wished
to see him try his horn on our hero's bull. So he proposed
that they should be let loose in a field together for a fight.
To this the owner agreed, and instructed the animal accord-
ingly. He must not kill the king's bull, but knock him down
and show that he was entirely in his power.

So the bulls were led out into a large yard, and a host of
people gathered to see the sport. The king's bull was soon
knocked down, when the king, anxious to save his beautiful
animal, asked the doctor to call off his bull. The doctor had

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MICMAC nVDIAN' LEGENDS.

only to speak to him, and the bull quietly left the other and
walked away.

The king now inquired if the doctor could cure his bull of
the wounds he had received. This he promised to do, and
succeeded ; the king rewarded him by giving him one hun-
dred pounds and a fine horse. This money he took home
and gave to his father, who laid it up as he had done before
with the fifty pounds.

/^;:er a while he went again to the city, and inquired after
the ^ .:' bull. He found him well, but applied a drug to
him in '.nvc way that made him furious; he raged around,
gored the other animals and the people ; the whole city was
in confusion, hundreds of people being killed by the mad
bull, and all the rest terribly frightened, until at length, by
the direction of the king, he was fired at with a cannon and
killed.

Soon after this, the doctor, sleeping on his magical belt,
had another dream. At a certain hour the next day, he was
told that he would be visited by the king and one of his
servants, who would pretend to desire to see his favorite bull,
but whose real design would be to poison him to death. He
was directed to drive up the bull and the horse, and to lock
them up in the barn ; and then, when the king came, to pre-
tend to go and hunt for the animals, but instead of doing so,
to go into the woods and wait until the king went away.

He got up early in the morning, fetched home the ani-
mals, and locked them up in the barn. At the hour indicated
in the dream, the king and one of his servants made their
appearance at his house, and inquired how the animals were
coming on. They asked to see them. He said he would go
and find them ; so off he went, slipped into the woods, and
waited until near evening; when he came out, he found that
the king had got out of patience and gone home. He was
jealous of the doctor for having a finer animal than his own,
and desired to destroy it, but was defeated.

The king made him a great ofifer for his bull. He would

CE3E^^'

A WONDERFUL BULL'S-HIDE BELT.

373

give one luindrcd pounds for him. This was refused, and the
king made an offer of three hundred pounds, wliich was
accepted. He was willing to part with him, for he knew
that his seven years were nearly up.

After this, sleeping with his belt under his head, he had
another revelation. He was directed to collect a quantity of
cattle's hair, place the belt upon it, and leave it in the
pasture for twenty-four hours. He did so, desiring that the
pasture might be filled with cattle. The next day he went
out, and, sure enough, there were all sorts and sizes of cattle
of the finest breed. He drove them up, and told his father
that they were all his. " But how came you by them ? " the
old man asked. " They were given to me," was his answer.
" Who is it that gives all good things? God alone, surely."

Soon after this, by directions in a dream, he placed a
handful of sheep's-wool out in the field and laid the wonder-
working belt upon it. The next morning, he found an
immense flock of sheep there. He did the same with birds,
geese, and other animals, and they came forth at the bidding
of the belt.

One night he was notified that the devil would make an
attempt to steal his animals; in order to prevent this he
must be doubly upon his guard, not to sin, not to give the
enemy any advantage, and then, girded with his belt, he
must go down into the pasture, sit upon the ground, and
watch his cattle. This he did, and soon he saw a fellow
attempting to drive away some of his animals. But he was
baffled in the attempt, and went away at last without bein^-
able to take a single animal. He was to put the belt out
there ; and as the devil approached the belt would fight him
and tie him up until the man was willing to let him go.
This took place; and when the young man gave the word,
the belt unfastened and the devil decamped.

He now consulted with his father about a division of the
property. He told his father that he might keep all the

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374

MICMAC INDIAN LEGENDS.

money, and if he survived him he might have all the prop-
erty. But meanwhile the seven years of promised pros-
perity had expired, — the belt lost its power and all the
riches vanished.

[Related by Nancy Jeddore, Jan. 17, 1871.]

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THE TORTOISES.

375

LXXII.

THE TORTOISES.

TWO Indians of the Tortoise tribe, a man and his wife,
dwelt by themselves; they had a very large family.
One day when, the man was absent, a woman came to thv,'
wigwam and introduced herself. She claimed to be a
Mikchikch' (Tortoise). "Have you any children?" asked
the other. " Yes, I have," was the reply. The next day she
came with about thirty eggs, and offered to sell them. The
other replied that she had nothing with which to pay for
them. " I will take one of your little boys," she answered.
But the other would not consent to that. So after a while
she offered to give the eggs to the woman, who accepted them,
intending to cook them for breakfast. She told her to hide
them in the warm sand out-of-doors, to keep them fresh and
to prevent the children from breaking them.

The woman complied with these directions, covered the
eggs with warm sand and ashes, and left them all until night.
The next morning she sent out her old man to bring in the
eggs, in order that she might cook them ; when, lo ! he found
creeping around thirty young children, — little tortoises. (The
mother had got rid of her children, and wished to marry
again, having left her first husband.) " What does this
mean?" he exclaimed. His wife understood the secret.
These are that woman's young children, whom she has
thus ungenerously left. " I will kill them," said he. " Oh,
no ! that will never do," she replied. " But let us pack up
and leave them to shift for themselves." This they did,
and went on till they came out to a large lake, on the

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376

M/CMAC INDIAN LEGENDS.

banks of which was a large town, Mikchikch' oodun (Tor-
toise town). They were of the tribe called Amalokunok-
cheechk, and were arrayed in the most beautiful robes.*
They learned that there was a wedding going on ; they were
invited to join the festivities. They found that the bride-
groom was a big, stout fellow, and the bride was the very
woman who had so lately forsaken her children. There was
assembled an immense number, and they feasted all day and
danced all night. There was a beautiful level place all along
the shore where they danced. They danced until they
became weary, and then suddenly dived into the water and
refreshed themselves. The two strangers, seeing them sud-
denly disappear, supposed they had fallen to the ground.
They were themselves seated on the ground, and did not
exactly see how they plunged into the water. But after a
while they appeared again, and continued the dance.

After several days the word went out for the wedding-feast
to cease, and all retired. The old fellow who had come was
about to build a wigwam, but the chief of the town told him
that he would give him one already made. So he took pos-
session of this, and stayed all night. In the morning, when
they turned out, they could see no one. All had dis-
appeared, having plunged into the water. So the old man
and his family were there by themselves. He had but little
to do (the tortoise is a very lazy animal), so he lay and slept
the most of his time.

Two strangers arrived, and stayed there awhile. The old
man said to them, Necn na ^ntooduniim ("This is my town").
They played a trick upon the old Tortoise. They noticed
that his abdomen was very large, and they thought a reduc-
tion of the intestines would be no unkindness. So they cut
a hole in his belly while he was asleep, and cut off a piece of
'the gut. After a while they cut off another piece ; and so at

^ This is all poetry from beginning to end. The tortoises lay their eggs in the
sand ; they are hatched by the heat of the sun. These small fellows are beauti-
fully variegated in their shells. There are three species of them.

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7y//i' TORTOISES.

177

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several different times they cut off pieces, thus reducinj^ it
to a few inches in length. This is the reason why, to this
day, the tortoise has so short an intestinal canal and so small
a paunch.

By and by these two fellows went home. On their way
they met a stranger, and were an.xious to know to what tribe
he belonged. He evaded their curious questionings, lie
said he was a Tortoise. Tjicy said, " You are not; you are
a Badger." He insisted that he was not. They told him
that they could tell after a while ; they seized him and cut
open his belly and examined his internal arrangements.
They found that he was not what he professed to be. His
bowels were like in form and extent to those of other people.
They sewed him up again; he was all right, and they let
him go.

Afterward one of these men said to his father, " Father,
there is an immense town not far off where we found an old
Tortoise, who said it belonged to him." So the old man
sent some of them back to examine again. Sure enough,
there was a large town ; but they did not go very near it.
They returned and made a report. The old man told them
that it would not be possible to kill these fellows, but it
would be very easy to frighten them. So they went down
in large numbers. They saw no town, but a great number
of logs around the lake, extending far out into it. As they
raised a shout, off they jumped into the water. (This is all
a poetical description of the tortoise.)

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378

M/CMAC INDIAN LEGENDS.

LXXIII.

THE LOON MAGICIAN.

\n\

AWAY near a lake there was a large Indian town. One
poor couple resided some distance from the main
settlement by themselves. They had two small children, —
the elder a boy, and the younger a girl. These two children
used to go down to the shore of the lake fishing. One day
the boy asked the girl, " Can you tell what kind of fish I
catch .' " She replied, " Of course I can." Soon after the
girl flung out a fish and asked of her brother, " Do you
know what this is } " It is a trout," said the brother. " No,
it is not," she answered. " It is a Tdkooonow (a species of
trout, but brighter in color). "There," said she, "after all
your crowing I have beaten you."

They kept on and fished along the shore, when they heard
a loon howling in the distance. This brought over the girl
a lonely feeling, and she asked her brother to go home.
They then returned and carried home their fish, which their
mother cooked.

After this the two little children, who were always playing
together, built a little playhouse, and were often seen talk-
ing very earnestly with each other ; but the people could
not understand them, and thought them very queer little
folks.

One day the boy told his sister that he would make her a
suit of clothes. This he did out of leaves of all sorts, colors,
and sizes. Having rigged her out thus, he took her away
with him down to the shore, and there they soon heard the
Loon howling in the distance. The boy said to her, " I will
hide; but do you go down and walk along the shore, back

THE LOON MAGICIAN.

379

and forth." She did so, and the Loon saw her and came up
to her. (Any red or brilliant color attracts the loon, and he
will come so close as to be easily killed.) She asked him,
*' iV//(-j>{v?;;//<:/^' (Grandfather), where have you come from?"
He replied, " From nowhere in particular."

She ran back and called her brother to come. He came
down, standing behind her so as to conceal himself; and the
Loon asked them what they wanted. They replied, *' VVc do
not want anything." He gave them instructions and power,
and after this, whenever she heard the Loon she felt lonely,
and the people saw that she often sat a long time in one
place, as if in deep thought. They often saw the children
earnestly talking together. The Loon conversed with them,
but he did not allow any one else to know what he said.
He told them that the whole town was to be destroyed, and
a Kookwes would come and destroy them. He directed
them to tell their parents to remove down to the shore, and
to go into the water when the Kookwes arrived.

The children went home and told their parents, " We
are to be attacked by a Kookwes, and the town is to be
destroyed." " Who told you so?" asked the father. "The
Kweemoo told us so." " If the Loon told you so, it must be
true," said the old man ; " v/e will remove at once." Forthwith
they began to remove. The other Indians inquired what all
this was about. "Why are you removing?" "We are to
be attacked," was the reply, " and the whole town destroyed."
"Who says so? " asked the chief. " My little boy was told
so by the Loon," said the old man. "Pooh ! your son is not
much, and the Loon is nothing. I r! • '{ believe a word of it."
But the family went down to the shore, and walked on until
they heard the Loon call three times. At the third call they
halted, and erected a lodge near the shore. The next day
the Loon came, and told the children that on the following
evening the attack would be made, and that when they heard
the yell of the giant they must wade ofif into the water. In
the night, sure enough, they heard the shout and the onset,

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380

MICMAC INDIAN LEGENDS.

the wild screams, and commotion of the sack of the town.
They made out into the lake, and remained there until all was
over. In the morning they went out and found that the
people were all killed, and that some of them wer* 'U\'ourcd.
The3 remained in their present camping-place, ,e they

were not discovered. The girl and the boy went often down
to the shore, and the Loon came and conversed with them,
lie instructed the boy how he might be able to run fast, and
to walk on water, and to fly in the air, so that he ccnild hunt
in all these regions successfully.'

Now they had plenty of everything; Kweemoo tells the
young man to think of him should he ever need his assist-
ance, and he will come.

One day Kweemoo asked the girl if she would be his
wife. He said that this lake was his country, and if she
would live with him she should have everything f''c wanted.
She said, MogicM ("No"). But when she wei me, she

consulted her mother, who advised her to acccj^^ j offer;
for he would certainly be very kind to her. (Loons never
quarrel.) So after two or three consultations the agreement
was made. One day when she went to see him he gave
her a beautiful little plaything, speckled like a turkey's egg,
which she carried home and showed to her mother. It was
a large beautiful egg. "What shall I do with it?" she said
to her mother. " Put it carefully in this bag of feathers."
She put it away carefully, and often played with it; she
prized it very highly.^

One day the Loon told the girl that he would be in danger
the next day. Some men would come to hunt him. She

1 Two ideas are here to be noted, — the supernatural power of the loon, and
the nature of the gift. The loons and other birds give notice of a change of
weather by their screams ; the change in the pressure of the air affecting them.
Seeing that they can foretell some things, it is an easy and natural poetic fiction
that they can foretell everything. Power over the water, air, and forest simply
denotes being a successful hunter of animals, birds, and fishes.

2 This is poetry. This egg plaything, so precious and needing to be handled
with such tenderness and care, is a babe, a little loon.

fKit

Tin-: max magictax.

3S1

told him to go out bcliind a rock that stood up hi the lake,
and remain concealed until the men went away.

Sure cnou{,di, the next day a canoe arrived containing; two
men. They were friendly. They remained, anil made a visit,
which they then invited their friends to return. I'he Loon told
the girl not to go. The old people and her brother might
go if they chose, but she would better not go. The strangers
urged her; but she told them that she could not, and showed
them what a beautiful little plaything she had to engage her
attention, pointing to her loon's egg. So she remained; i)ut
her parents and her brother made the strangers a visit after a
while at their own village.^

The young man soon became an object of envy. He out-
did his companions in everything. He could hunt, fish, and
fowl better than any of tlicm, outrun them, and beat them in
i'dl their games; so they resolved to poison him, and planned
to carry their design into effect on the following evening.
But that night he heard the voice of the friendly Loon, and
heeded the warning. He told his parents they would better
hasten home.

Soon after this the T>oon warned them to remove away
from the other Indians to the upper end of the lake. The
parents did not go with them, and they were killed.

The Kwcemoo told the brother and sister that he would
dwell with them, and give them all the assistance in his
power for the following seven years. He kept his word.
They occasionally removed, and held themselves entirely
aloof from the other Indians. The girl was wonderfully
delighted with the place, so they never removed from the
lake.

When the seven years were nearly ended, the Loon in-
formed them that they must now separate. He went away,
remained three days, and then rcturnctl. He told them

1 Another visit was made by the strangers, and the Kweemoo hid again while
they were there. This visit was returned, and nil went again but the girl ; she
remained with her friend, who never came to the wigwam, but whom she visited
at the side of the lake.

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382

MIC MAC INDIAN LEGENDS.

that he had been in his own native town, but had been so
taken up with his thoughts of them that he had come
back. Soon after his arrival three more loons came and
were introduced as his comrades. They all went back
after a short visit.

ilMliipli

wegooaskOnoogwejIt and his wonderful hen. 383

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LXXIV.

WEGOOASKUNOOGVVEJIT AND HIS WONDER-
FUL HEN.

r'M

Two old people who had one son, lived by themselves ;
they also had a tdbidch (goat), that furnished them

with milk.

After the boy had become quite a well-grown youth, he

said one day to his parents, " I will go and look for some

kind of employment, in order that we may have wherewith

to buy food and other necessaries." So he went away, and

soon came to a large farm, where he saw a man at work,

whom he recognized as the master of the establishment, and

whom he asked for employment. The man inquired how

long he wished to be employed and what he wanted for pay.

He told him that he wished to be employed for one week,

and that he wanted money, or something that would be

useful at home. They made a bargain, and the boy went to

work ; his employer was astonished at the amount of labor

performed. He did as much in one week as ordinary men

would do in a year.

At the close of the week they settled, and the man paid
him one half in money, and offered him a hen for the
remainder. But the boy said, " Of what service will the hen
be to me?" "She will lay for you a dozen eggs a day,"
was the answer. So he agreed to take her as half his wages,
and went home. When he reached home, he exhibited the
results of his labors, and was questioned respecting the use
of the single hen. He told them that she would be a great
acquisition to the family, as she laid a dozen eggs a day.

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384

MICMAC INDIAN- LEGENDS,

So he put her in a small place by herself for the night, and
in the morning, he came in bringing a dozen eggs, and
lokwclcdasooltijik (they were all wonderfully delighted.)

After a time the young fellow started off on another
expedition. He thought he could make money by selling
his wonderful hen. He went on, passing through two
towns in succession, and then came to one where a king
resided. He asked to sec the king, an .fered to sell him a
remarkable bird. The king told him to oring along his bird
and let him look at it. So he returned home and fetched the
bird. When he came to show it to the king, the latter was
somewhat indignant when he saw that it was nothing
but a hen ; but when he heard of her remarkable fecundity,
he was willing to test the truth of it, and the hen was care-
fully shut up for safe-keeping for the night. The next morn-
ing it was found that the report was true. There were the
twelve eggs in confirmation.

The king now asked the price of this wonderful bird. " I
will fix no price," he answered, " but you may pay me
whatever you choose." So he gave him ten pounds, which
he took willingly and went home.

Shortly after this, he was told by a man whom he met in a
dream, that he would have a call in a few days from some one
who would wish to buy his goat, but that he must on no
account sell her to him, as he was an evil spirit, and had no
good object in view in offering to buy her. The man, he
was told, would go away, but would renew his solicitations
the next day. He must then tell him that if he would give
him a whole royal city for the animal, he might take her. All
this took place. A man came, commended the goat, and was
very urgent to buy her. He was decidedly refused, however,
but he renewed the request the next day. " I will let you
have the animal," the young man said, " if you will give me
a whole royal city with all its wealth." "Nonsense!"
exclaimed the other, and took his departure.

Soon after this the boy concluded to take his goat to the

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WEGOOASKUNOOGWEJIT AND HTS WONDERFUL HEN. 385

royal city and try to sell her. So he got all kinds of flowers,
wreathed them round her head and horns, covered her with
a beautiful cloak with fringes, and led her, thus adorned,
to the market. The goat was greatly admired. He showed
her to the king, who was wonderfully pleased with her, and
offered him one hundred pounds for her. This he accepted,
the money was counted, and the king had her placed in a
yaid where the royal pets were kept ; the yard was guarded
by sentinels, — two at the outer, and one at the inner gate.

In the evening the young man thought it would be a fine
speculation if he could steal the little creature and take her
back home with him, in addition to the bag of money which
he had received for her. So, arranging his plans, he took a
few cakes and a couple of bottles of rum, and went up to the
outer guards, and told them that the king, fearing lest some
one should steal his beautiful goat, had sent him to watch
all night with the inner guard. They, on this representation,
let him pass ; and he told the same story to the other sentry,
and took his place virith him. By and by he exhibited his
lunch, — his cakes, and what he called tea in his bottles.
He told his comrade to drink the contents of the bottle and
eat the cakes, and he would go and carry some to the other
soldiers. So he went back and told them that the king had
sent them the refreshments, and assured them that the con-
tents of the bottle would keep them awake. They swallowed
the bait, and were soon intoxicated and sleepy. He went
back to his other friend, whom he found snoring on the
ground ; returning, he found the others very sleepy, but
trying liard to keep awake. He advised them to take a nap,
and let him keep watch. But in the mean time, having
put the guard to sleep, he took the goat and decamped.
The inhabitants of the city were all asleep ; he got away
unsuspected, and reached home before daylight, so that no
one saw him. He took care of his goat, and then gave an
account of his success to his parents.

Soon after this he went ciway again to seek his fortune.

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386

MICMAC INDIAN LEGENDS.

H. W

He soon met a man, who asked him where he lived, where he
was going, and all the usual questions that pass between
Indians when they meet. He told this man that he was a
servant of the king, and that he had a beautiful herd of goats,
which he was going to see. From the man's appearance,
and his offering to join him in copartnership, he thought that
the man must be rich. He accepted the proposal, went home
and told his parents, and then went out in quest of his friend.
He soon fell in with him again, and the other asked him if he
was really the owner of so large a herd of goats. He told
him he was not, — that they all belonged to the king but
one, and that one the king had given to him.

He now inquired of the other who and what he was. He
said, " I am a robber ; and if you will join me, we shall soon
become immensely rich." So they agreed to go into business
together, travel round the country practising in that line, and
soon acquire a vast amount of money. They continued
together several years; when, as they were passing a solitary
place, the young man thought it would be a good specula-
tion to rob his comrade and appropriate the whole of their
earnings to himself. So he struck him down while off his
guard, and having killed him, flung him into the river, took
all his booty, and went home. His father remonstrated with
him and blamed him when he heard what he had done. But
he was neither commanded nor persuaded; he told the old
people that they might have the goat, and he would go and
look after himself. Away he went to seek a wife. He had
not gone far before he fell in with a man who inquired into
his business, and learning what it was, offered to assist him
and to lead him to a place where there were some beautiful
girls. He accepted the kind offer, and followed the man,
who took him to the city, and pointing to a certain house,
said, " There is where they live. You can go in ; I shall go
on my way home." The young man entered the house; he
saw two very beautiful girls there, and an old woman, who
he learned was their mother. He asked where her husband

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WEGOOASK-CfNOOGWEJIT AND IITS WONDERFUL HEN. 387

was. She told him that she had no husband, — that he was
dead. " Would you not like to have a man stop here with
you ? " he asked. " I do not know," was her answer. He
next asked, "Are these your daughters?' " They are," she
replied. "Will you let me have one of them for a^vife?"
" I will, if they have no objections to it," was the answer.
The question was then put to one, who replied that she would
not marry him unless his name was Pulkajiimooch. He
declared that this was not his name, but that he was called
Wegooaskiinoogwcjit.^ W'hereupon the other girl replied
that he was the man for her, and he took her for his
wife.

The wedding festival was held with all the usual festivities.
The young lady asked, " What are we to live on? " He told
her that he could easily provide for all her wants. So now
he hunted, and they were all well provided for.

One day the chief came running to the village, telling
them that there was a great whirlwind coming, smashing
down trees, and that they must secure their tents. They all
ran out to secure their wigwams; and though the trees were
smashed down by the wind, it did not touch the wigwams.

Soon after this, all hands turned, under the direction of the
chief, and constructed weirs for eels. This fellow n^mained
in his tent, and did not go to the work. That night a storm
of rain came on and swelled the river; during the darkness
Wegooaskiinoogwejit went down to the river and broke the
weirs. The next day they went down to look for their eels ;
but there were none, and the weirs were gone. This fellow
told them that the flood had broken and carried them away.

Now, then, one of the men inquired if his name was not
Pulka'jumooch. He told him that it was not, but that it
was Wegooaskunoogwcjit.

1 Wegooaskiinoogwejit, an imaginary being, who was supposed to cut clown
trees with one or two blows. The Indians say that they sometimes hear in the
woods, as it were, the sound of an axe ni)on a tree, and then see the tree fall,
even on a calm day, though no one is visible. They suppose that this invisible
spiritual being has felled the tree.

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388

MICMAC INDIAN LEGExXDS.

By and by the chief heard this, and sent his son over to
inquire. But now he denied that his name was Wegoo-
askunoogwejlt, but said it was the name of a younger brother
who was now dead. He had left this brother seven years
before, and had given him a goat. Thus ends the story.

[Related by Nancy Jeddore, Jan. 27, 1871.]

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PULES, PULOIVECH', AND BEECHKWECII.

389

LXXV.

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PULES, PULOVVECH', AND BEECHKVVECH
(PIGEON, PARTRIDGE, AND NIGHTHAWK).

A WAY in the depths of the forest were three f^imilics, — the
"^~*- Pigeons, the Partridges, and the Nighthawks. " Come
on," said they one day to one another, " let us see which will
build the finest wigwam." So the Pigeon went to work and
erected a high one, not very tight, but built with wicker-work,
and made airy and spacious. The Partridge thought she
would make hers more lowly, and so kept very near to the
ground, and made her habitation so low and so much like
the trees and leaves around that an enemy and even
a friend might pass without seeing it. Mrs. Nighthawk
took less pains than any of the others, and made no hut at
all. In due time they all reared families of children, but
Mrs. Partridge had the greatest number. Mrs. Nighthawk's
family were the most poorly off; for when the rain came
down, they had no shelter whatever.

The Nighthawk stated in extenuation of her neglect that
she did not intend to remain in that locality long, but meant
to remove very early in the fall. The Pigeon too observed
that she was not so solicitous about her abode as she would
be if she did not have to shift her quarters often, in order
to find food. But Mrs. Partridge said that she remained
always in one locality.

One day while their mother was away from home, the
children of the Partridge saw a man coming along; they
were dreadfully frightened, and ran screaming in every

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390

MICMAC INDIAN LEGENDS.

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direction, and hid. The man passed on, and they came out
of their hiding-places again.

When their mother came home, they told her how
frightened they hud been. " My young brothers skulked
about under roots and into holes," said one of the elder girls,
" and hid away where they could neither be disturbed nor
seen."

Soon after this they saw the Fox coming along ; they were
terribly alarmed at the sight, and flew away out of his reach ;
but he passed on. Going down to the shore, he saw a small
keg floating to land, and found, to his joy, that it was full of
honey. He ate very greedily of the honey, and then left it ;
but on second thought, returned and voided his urine over
the keg, lest some one else should take possession of it.
When he arrived home, he told his wife and children what a
feast he had found, and promised them that he would go and
bring it home. He went again and ate bountifully, but never
carried a morsel of it home. He told the family how sweet
the food was, and invited them all to go with him to the
place and eat of it. So they all went down together to the
shore, and feasted on the honey. As they were coming home,
they met a man whose name was Fisher, of whom Wokwes
demanded where he was from and whither he was going.
" From no place in particular," he replied ; after a few words
had passed between them, they agreed to go off together and
hunt in company. So the Fox, leaving his family to return
home and shift for themselves, went off with the Fisher,
and the two came down to the lake. There the Fox told the
Fisher that they would have a race round to the opposite end
of the lake, one going to the right side of it and the other to
the left, so as to meet at the place appointed, and the one
who arrived there first should be leader.

So away they ran ; and the Fox, having just taken his din-
ner, made no delay, and, being swift of foot, soon reached the
destined place. But the Fisher was hungry, and on his way
he saw a Porcupine, which he stopped to kill, skin, and

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rULES, PULOWECir, AXD BEECllKW'ECir.

391

devour.^ This delayed him, and the Fox became leader of
the company.

They agreed to keep together seven years, and to per-
form the circuit of seven lakes; this would bring them back
to the place of starting. So they went on together.

After a while the Fox got tired of his companion. The
Fisher was too slow and too lazy for him. The}' came out
to a lake and saw a man, beautifully dressed all in soft black
fur, coming to meet them. The Fox asked him what his
name was. He said, " My name is Keoonik' (Otter ). He
asked in turn, " Who are you? " " I am a Megumoowesoo,"
was the answer; and he proposed to the Otter to join com-
pany with him. To this the Otter consented. Meanwhile the
Fisher came in from hunting, fetching a load of Porcupines;
the Otter came round and began to handle them, when, get-
ting his fingers pricked, he started back and exclaimed,
" What is all this? " " Oh, nothing," said the Fisher, " but
my pouch I " Meanwhile the Fox was determined to make a
change in the company. He said to the Fisher, " You are
so slow and lazy that I am tired of you ; so we will give up
our engagement and separate." He then inquired his name,
which he had not known before, and learned that it was
tlpkumk (Fisher). This led him to insist on separating.
The other was not very unwilling to yield to the proposal,
and so took himself away.

Now, then, the Fox told the Otter that he was hungry, and
the Otter inquired what kind of food he liked. He told him
that he was very fond of eels. " Well," said the Otter, " I
can catch the eels, if you can dress and cook them." " I can
readily do that much," answered the Fox. So the Otter
slipped into the water, and soon returned bringing out a very
large eel. This he laid upon the bank, and again returned
to the water, and soon came back to the shore with another

' The Fisher feeds on porcupines ; and though he gets quills in him, he does
not seem to mind it, for they do not penetrate far and soon rub out ; he strips
the skin clean off before eating the flesh. (Nancy Jeddore.)

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392

MICMAC INDIAN LEGENDS.

eel. These the Fox soon skinned and cooked, and they took
their dinner together.

The Fox admired the dress of the Otter, but was surprised
at the size of his tail. He inquired, " What does all this
mean?" "Oh!" said the Otter, " that is not my tail; it is
my staff."

The two continued together for some time, but the Fox
got tired of his comrade. Their natures and their habits
were so unlike that they could not agree. Sometimes the
F"ox wished to run with all his might, and the Otter could
not keep pace with him. Sometimes, on the other hand, the
Otter preferred swimming rather than walking, and then the
Fox could not go with him.

So one day, as they were going along, they saw a man
coming to meet them. The F'ox inquired his name. He
told him it was Amalchoogwcch' (Raccoon). The Fox then
told the Otter that he might retire, as he did not want his
companionship any longer. The Otter slipped into the water
and departed, while the Raccoon joined with the Fox. But
he soon found the Raccoon even slower and lazier than the
Fisher, and getting out of all patience with him, sent him
off. He soon after met two other men, who inquired of him
what his name was, and he told them that it was Megumoo-
wesoo. He asked one of the strangers what his name was, and
was told that it was Amalchoogwcch' (Raccoon). " Bah ! "
said he, " I do not want your company. You are of no use.
I just dismissed one of your tribe, he was such a worthless
creature." But the other said his name was Moochpech'
(Mink). So he invited the latter to join him, and they went
on together.

They had not proceeded far before they saw three men
coming to meet them. One of them had a large pack on
his back, and the Fox asked him who and what he was.
He said, " I am a Megumoowcsoo." " And these your
companions, who are they ? " " One is Mulglgunop (the
Mighty), and the other is Pipsolk (the Conqueror)." " Well, "

PULES, PULOlVECir, AND BEECIfKWl.CH,

393

said the Fox, " I would like to join your party." lie then
turned and said to the Mink, " Wo can separate now, and
you can go about your business, and I about mine." So
the Mink slipped off; but before he went the Megumoowesoo
imparted to him the special gift of crying very easily.' To
the Fox he also imparted the ability to run fast.

The Mink having departed, and the Fox having joined the
three others, tlicre were now four of them. The Fox had
by this time passed the series of seven lakes, and arrived at
the one from which he started. He told his friends that he
had been away from home a long time and must soon think
of returning. Upon going a short distance they saw a wig-
wam, and learned that they were in the neighborhood of
a village. They entered the wigwam, and after remaining
a time, the mistress came home; she proved to be Mistress
Partridge, the same that the Fox visited at the commence-
ment of our story. Me recognized the old lady, but she did
not know him. He asked her if she did not remember a
man that passed that way seven years before. She now
remembered him, and was very glad to see him and his
comrades. They remained there a year.

Mrs. Partridge told them that there were two more towns
just above, and they went on to visit them. The first one
they reached was Pigconville, and they told the queen of the
place, the old Pigeon, that they had to pay her a visit; as
they had remained one year at Partridgcvillc, so they would
like to stay as long there. But she told them that they could
not remain there a whole year, for, as they all lived mainly
on berries, they would have to remove and go farther south
when food got scarce. But she told them that there was
another village a little farther on. They went, and in due
time arrived at Nighthawkvillc. But when they proposed
remaining a year there, the Nighthawk chief informed them

' The mink is very e.isily moved to make an ado. If he gets into any trouble,
or if he is trying to drag something and cannot succeed, he will squeal and
whine, and take on in a very doleful way. (Tom Brooks.)

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394

MJl.UAC /ad/ a A' LEGI-.A/JS,

that they could not remain very long there; that on the
approach of the autumn they removed to a warmer climate.

Megumoowesoo and Fox now remained toyithcr, hut sent
the Mighty and the Conqueror back, advising them not to
form any matrimonial alliance, as they would only be dis-
appointed ; for the women of these parts were apt to get
tired of any change in the mode of their living and fly back
to their own quarters, and this was particularly the case with
the young ladies of Partridgeville.

The two men thought they understood their own business
best ; so they went to the tent of the old Partridge and saw
many beautiful young ladies there, and asked the mother
to give each of them one for a companion. She readily con-
sented, but gave the girls the hint to fly back, and not go
home with the fellows. The two girls went with the men
back to where they left their comrades ; but before they
reached the place the women were directed to sit down
behind a large, old, rotten log and await further orders. The
two men went on and joined their comrades. When they
came up to MegQmoowesoo and the Fox, they were soon
told to go and fetch their wives. The Fox thought he would
like to see a plump young Partridge. What a splendid
dinner it would make ! Back went the two fellows to look
for the pretty birds ; but as they approached the old, rotten
log, up flew the Partridges with a whiz, and away back they
went to their own village.

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[Such is the story, as related to me to-da , Jan .1871,
by Nancy Jeddore. She has also exr' ' : ; and I see an

allegory of natural history in it. I .le creation vvig-

wams: the pigeon builds on trees, bi. merely crosses a few
sticks, and takes no pains to make the nest w rm and soft, as
do the other birds ; the partridge gathers a few leaves, and
sits among them, her back looking very much like leaves, —
so that a passer-by would hardly notice her as she sits there ;
the nighthawk lays her eggs on the ground without any nest,

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rULES, PULOWECir, AND liKECIlKWECir.

395

and selects a piece of burnt land, because her back most
resembles that.

All the birds except the partridge migrate, -- tlic ni};ht-
hawk first of all, about the beginning of September or the
last part of August; the pigeon goes off when the berries
fail.

So when the Fox passes, all the little (lock of Partridges
hides and flies up out of the way of the Fox ; and so on
through the whole. The incompatibility of animals whose
habits and tastes are opposite is set forth in the story. 'Ihe
recurrence of the number seven — seven years, seven lakes —
is noteworthy.]

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396

MICMAC INDIAN LEGENDS.

LXXVI.

THE ADVENTURES OF TORNADO AND WAVE.

THERE was an old couple who had two. sons ; the name
of the elder was Tornado, and of the younger Wave.
The two boys grew up together, and were always in com-
pany, whether they played, worked, or slept. They went
off one day together on a hunting-excursion. Tornado
hunted the birds, and Wave the fish. They soon collected
a large quantity, which they conveyed to their parents, and
then started off in company to take a tour. After a while
they came out to a large lake, in which they saw a great num-
ber of islands. But they saw by the ascending smoke that
there was a village on the opposite side. They planned
together to rush suddenly upon this town, and overturn all
the wigwams, so that they might have a fair sight of all the
beautiful girls. Down they rushed pell-mell upon the vil-
lage, and overturned all the tents; and then, cooling down,
they were able to walk round and contemplate the ruin they
had caused. The chief inquired their names. " My name
is Tornado, and my younger brother's name is Wave." The
chief inquired whence they had come ; and they replied,
" From no place in particular." He asked where they were
going ; and they said they were travelling about, visiting
various places. The chief informed them that there were
three more towns beyond him, and after they had passed
these they would come to one where a king dwelt. So they
left this place, and pursued their route.

When they had passed on to the third town, they made
inquiries about the royal city. They were told that they

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THE ADVENTURES OF TORNADO AND WAVE.

397

must go on till they came out to a great clearing, beyond
which they would see a high mountain; and on ascending
this, they would see the city beyond.

They went on, and found all as they were told. When
they reached the royal city, they inquired after the king, and
were shown to his residence. He was informed that two
handsome-looking fellows had arrived, and were Jesirous ot
seeing him. They were called in; and after some inquiries
as to who they were, whence they came, and whither
they were going, they offered to engage in his service if he
would employ them. He inquired what they could do, and
they were free to own that they knew nothing about the
ordinary work of servants ; but they said they could bring
in the vast resources of the air and sea. He engaged them
for one week, and they went out hunting. They informed
him that they could not be separated, but must hunt together.
So Tornado first commenced operations on the sea-fowl ; he
caught an immense number, and Wave assisted him in bring-
ing them to the city. Then Wave went out and brought in
fish of every kind, an immense number, — so many that the
two could scarcely bring them in.

The king was exceedingly well pleased with their labors,
and told his courtiers what a pair of profitable servants he
had. Their time was not up, so he offered to hire them out;
and one of the rich men of the place took him up, and
employed the two servants. Accordingly they hunted for
him, and brought him an abundance of the treasures of the
sea and of th( air.

After the expiration of their week, they were paid off and
discharged. Before they left, however, they concluded to
give the inhabitants an illustration of their power for evil as
well as for good. So they put forth their powers, and made
sad havoc in the town. Among other troubles, an immense
diisdiupaak (tidal wave) rolled in and did a great amount of
damage.

After a while Tornado proposed to his brother to go

398

MICMAC INDIAN LEGENDS.

a hunting in the woods. " But," said the other, " how shall
we kill the moose, bear, and caribou? " " We will make the
trees fall upon them," said the other. So away they went,
and caused a great slaughter among the animals of the for-
est. " Now, then," said they, " let us go and get us each a
wife, and then return to our parents." Said Tornado to
Wave, "I will prepare mc a dress of caribou-skin; but you
must dress up in the skin of a bear, and then go picking
berries ; ^ there you will have an opportunity of meeting
the young women, because they also follow • that employ-
ment; and I will sit down at a distance and look on." So
they carried this scheme into execution. Tornado dressed
himself in caribou-skin, while Wave donned the dark robe
of the bear ; the latter went out to the blueberry plains,
whither the girls resorted, and before long he saw a crowd
of them at their work of gathering berries. They took him
for a bear, and immediately started for home. He watched
their movements, and saw the direction they took. They
eaw farther oft" what they thought was a caribou. Wave
gave the signal to his friend, and they started for the same
place. They came out to a lake, which the girls were obliged
to go around. Wind went round the lake in the opposite
direction, but took a short cut directly across the lake ; this
caused some commotion in the water. Arriving on the other
side of the lake, they waited for the girls, having doffed their
disguises, — their bear and caribou skins. When the girls
came up, they saluted them respectfully, and went on along
with them ; but they did not tell their names or whence
they came. Aoolamsun said his name was Wlbbi^'m, and the
other said his was Kogtm.^ When they arrived at the town,
the news soon spread. They were shown where the chief
dwelt, and called upon him. He inquired their names, but

1 M&iuecse, future mcoirsedh, to pick berries; hence the name of tlie bear, —
Mooiii, the berry-gatherer.

^ A'di^Hn (foam of the sea) is that which collects on the water during a calm,
but which is dispersed by the lightest breeze. Thus the two heroes take names
from exactly the opposite objects.

THE ADVENTURES OF TOR X A DO AXD WAVE. 399

they did not tell him. They informed him what their object
was in visiting his domain ; each was in search of a wife.

There was one man in the village who knew all about
them ; he told the others what their names were, and that
if they harbored the strangers, the town would be in trouble.
They were entertained, however, and directed to a place
where there were a couple of beautiful girls. They went
in ; and, sure enough, there were two girls, so very fair and
lovely that the strangers were quite pleased with them. The
mother did not give them a very cordial welcome. They
asked, "Are these your daughters?" "The}- are," she
replied. " Will you give them to us? " they asked. " I will
not," she answered; "I cannot spare them under any con-
sideration." " What are their names? " " They are Wibbun
(Calm) and Kogun (Foam-in-the-water)," she answered.

The old lady now asked who they were, whence they came,
and if their parents were still living. They told her in reply
their names, and that they had left their parents seven years
before, but had left them a bountiful supply of food; that
since they left home, they had spent one year (though it was
really but one week) in the service of the king, and that now
they were desirous of obtaining wives and then of returning
home to the old people. The old woman now began to
consider the matter, and thought that they must be rich ; she
told then 'lat she would agree to let one of her daughters
go, but tl'e other man must go to some other lodge and
select a wi . They told her this could never be. " We are
two brothers, and are so indissolubly united that we are in
fact one, and must marry sisters. It is the same with your
two girls; they are sisters and must always be together,
they cannot be separated." " All right," she replied ; "you
may take them both." So Tornado took Calm, and Wave
took Foam. They then had a wedding-festival, and the
mother of the girls told the old chief; he raised no objec-
tions to the arrangement, but objected to the removal of
the parties from his place. '• !'^\' told him they would re-

400

MICMAC INDIAN LEGENDS.

\^u \ ■*

turn and bring back the girls after having made a visit to
their own parents. They went home, and found the old
people alive and well, and still supplied with provisions from
the store they had gathered before they left home. They
remained there awhile, and the women became homesick and
desired to revisit their parents. Tornado felt disposed to
dispute the point with them, and tried to excite his brother
to oppose their going and to raise a storm. But Mrs. Calm
was found to have power as well as her husband. She
exerted that power in opposition to him, and conquered.
There was no storm raised, and they all pleasantly visited
the old people. After remaining awhile, the men proposed
to return home ; they said that if the women were unwilling
to go, they would leave them behind and go home alone.
To this the mother objected. " Take them along with you,"
she bc^id. " Should you leave them, they will only be beset
by other suitors." So they went together back to the old
place.

Some altercation took place now and then between the
mother-in-law and the daughters-in-law. The old lady was
jealous of the attention shown them by their husbands, and
thought herself neglected. She took the greatest dislike to
Calm, whose smooth brow she occasionally succeeded in
ruffling. But her husband interposed, and argued the case
v/ith her. " Like as we are brothers, so they are sisters, and
they cannot live if you separate them any more than can my
brother and I." He appealed to the old man. " What is
your name?" said he. "My name is Tornado." "Well,
have you a brother? " " I have one younger than I, whose
name is Wave." "Well, do you love each other? " " Indeed
we do." " Well, then, let us all live together in harmony."

[Related by Nancy Jeddore, Feb. 2, 187 1.]

^I '

THE ORCHARD-KEEPER.

40 1

LXXVII.

THE ORCHARD-KEErER.

THERE was once an old man who had been an orchard-
keeper to a king. After the king's death a small farm,
a house, and an orchard in which stood seven trees of special
superiority were given to the old man. The produ«.e of his
plantation was sufficient to support the man, his wife, and
their two children. The elder child was a son, the younger
a daughter. The old people and the son were very devout
and exemplary, but the girl was of a contrary disposition.
She neglected her prayers, and was reckless in conduct.
They dwelt together, and for some time all went smoothly
with them.

After a while, when the apple-trees were loaded with fruit,
the seven special ones, which were giving great promise, were
robbed. One after another they were found in the morning
stripped of their fruit, and the owners were at a great loss to
know who was the perpetrator of the theft. They deter-
mined to watch. The depredations were always committed
in the night; and so one evening the father and son placed
themselves where they could see and not be seen, and
watched for the thief Before long they saw a bear ap-
proaching. He made directly for the trees, and while they
looked he seemed to be more like a horse than a bear. But
when he came to the trees, he climbed directly up into one,
and began shaking off the apples. They were now alarmed,
and ran home for their guns.

But before this the old woman had had a dream in which

it was revealed to her that it was the devil that stole the fruit,

t--^

f 1 1

'r-^ ; ;- ^ l ^^m'^^^'' m'Pif*"-v^>''^^^W'^^

402

M/CMAC INDIAN LEGENDS.

1 i

'J (

'i * \

Ml
51-'

' '. 'I ., S<

and that his object was to circumvent and carry off the whole
family as well as their iveloool (food).

When, therefore, the men returned for their guns, she said
to them, " You are mistaken ; it is not a bear, it is the
devil." They, however, took their guns and returned to the
tree, where they saw him under the tree quietly filling a large
bag with the apples ; this he afterward laid across his back
and carried off. They followed him for some time ; but he
seemed to slip from their sight as if he had suddenly sunk
into the ground.

The next day the son proposed to go in quest of him, and
with his father's consent he started. Then his father, taking
his prayer-book and going out into the orchard again, spent
a long time in prayer. There was one tree, the seventh of
that cluster of seven, which had been the old king's special
gift, and which the demon had not been able to touch; under
that tree he kneeled and prayed.

Meanwhile the son pursued his way, intending to go down
to the infernal regions to capture the stolen apples. On the
road he met a man who inquired where he was going; he
answered that he was on his way to the nether regions, that
he was pursuing thither a thief who had stolen his father's
apples, and that the thief was no other than Mundoo (Satan)
himself. On and on he went for a long distance, until, as-
cending to the top of a hill, he suddenly slipped, and down
he went a long distance into a hole in the earth. He reached
the bottom without injury, and soon found himself in a large,
spacious house, where he saw a huge bag full of apples ;
these he immediately recognized as the ones which had been
stolen from his father's trees. He saw there, too, the author
of the theft, and a very large company of women whom the
devil had succeeded in decoying to his dark abode.

The young man immediately attacked and overpowered
him. He beat him until he was so soundly thrashed that he
was glad to beg for quarter. This the young man refused
to give except on condition that he would solemnly pledge

mumimkHim

THE ORCHARD-KEEPER.

403

himself to let the apples alone in the future, and also promise
never to touch one of the family. The terms were conceded
to with one exception. Satan said he would have one of
them, — the father, mother, and son would be safe, but he
would promise no further. He was now released, but the
young man walked about as conqueror. He had grappled
and subdued the demon in his own den, and had after that
no fear.

It was not so easy to return to the upper regions,^ how-
ever, as to go down. He was thoroughly tired of the place
before he could get out, and then had to have help. His
mother dreamed that he was there, and she was instructed at
the same time what to do. She told her dream, and directed
her husband to make a strong basket, tie a cord to it, and
then take it in the evening and lower it into an old cellar
that was not far off. This he did ; and down, down, down
went the basket a long distance, and finally stopped. Pres-
ently a pull was felt and received as a signal from below;
when the basket was drawn up, lo ! the young man all safe
and sound was found in it, with a huge bag filled with the
apples, which had been retaken from the infernal depredator.
Lok ivcledasit kescgoo, right glad was the old man to learn
that his son had come off victorious. He had spent much of
the time during the young man's absence in prayer. He now
ceased his severe devotions, and resumed his ordinary work.
The son announced the .pleasing news that he had subdued
the arch-enemy, and extorted a promise from him that here-
after the orchard and the family with one exception should
not be molested. He did not say who the unfortunate one
would be ; but as the daughter was heedless, and would not
attend to the concerns of her soul and to the counsels and
entreaties of her parents and brother, it was strongly sus-

' Facilis descensus Averno;
Noctes atque dies patet atri janua Ditis ;
Sed revocare gradiim superasque evadere ad auras.
Hoc opus, hie labor est.

Virgil, book vi. line 125.

r- t

AO.\

M/CAfAC /A'/)/ AX LEGENDS.

pcctcd by her parents and known to the brother that she
was the one. They continued to admonish, and she con-
tinued to slij^ht their achnonitions.

So after a while she took it into her head to go out visiting
evenings. This the others liad no objection to, provided she
did not go alone. Her mother told her to let her brother
accompany her, and her brother urged the same thing; but,
no ! she would go alone and go in the evening. She went,
and her brother followed at a short distance to watch her.
He soon saw that she was attended by a young man, and iie
knew too well who it was. He again admonished her to
beware, but his warnings were unheeded. Finally she went
out and never returned. Her brother knew where she had
gone; Satan had carried her off to his dark dominions. So
they did not seek her, and soon ceased to mourn for her.

Some time after this, the old man advised his son to go
out and seek some other employment. Their little place
would support himself and wife ; the son could look for
something better. So the young man departed to go to the
town where clcgdzvdgiku (the king resided). Before he
reached it he came out to a large pasture filled with various
kinds of domestic animals; there were horses, cattle, and
sheep feeding in different places, and he saw in a corner of
the field a man just rising, who had been lying on the ground
watching the animals. This man asked him whence he came
and whither he was going; he answered that he came from
the country, and was going to the royal city for employment.
His father had been in the employ of the former king, who
had treated him very kindly, and he was going to see if he
might not be as successful with the king's son. The boy
now inquired to whom all these cattle, sheep, and horses
belonged. The other told him that they belonged to the
king, and that he was stationed there to watch them.
" Well," said the boy, " I should like to join you, and you
could take the cattle and I the sheep." The other, not ob-
jecting to this arrangement, instructed the stranger how to

THE ORCnARD-KEEPER.

405

find the city. " Go on beyond those woods," said he, " ami on
emerging from the woods you will immediately see the town.
He ascertained that these directions were correct, and soon
came to the royal city. He now inquired for the king's resi-
dence, and the king was informed that a young man had
come who desired to see him. The king called him in, and
inquired who he was and whence he came ; when he learned
that he was the son of his father's old servant, he was much
pleased. " I was well acquainted with your father," said he,
" and I shall be most happy to employ you. What can you
do?" "Why, I can tend your sheep, and I was just speak-
ing with your shepherd, who told me that he would like
much to have assistance." " Well," said the king, " that
man has kept my cattle seven years ; how long do you think
you could stand it? " " I can stand it as long as you please,
I think," was the answer ; and the bargain was made.

When the young man came to the field, he made an ar-
rangement with the shepherd that he himself should make the
sheep his peculiar care, while the shepherd guarded the rest.

While at his work in the field the young man did not
forget his devotions, nor neglect to serve God. The other
kept an eye upon him, and saw him often upon his knees,
lifting up his hands towards heaven, and wondered much
what he was about. He noticed that while the young man
was acting thus strangely the sheep would gather in a circle
round him and smell of him. He concluded that the fellow
must be crazy, and thought it his duty to report him to
the king.

So he went and related the strange conduct of his fellow-
servant. " He oftc.i kneels down and remains in that posi-
tion for some time, lifting up his hands and acting like a
crazy man." The king understood the matter better than
his servant. He was glad to learn that the son of the pious
old servant was treading in his father's footsteps. He was
satisfied that he would be none the less faithful to his prince
because he was faithful to his God.

I '

iiii

!■'■:!

4o6

MICMAC IXDIAN LEGENDS.

1 K' (

\>\

There was another thing that puzzled the elder shepherd.
The junior partner in the business did not eat his dinner
when the king sent it out to tiie field to them. He took his
breakfast and supper with the elder shepherd, but at noon he
refused to eat, and said that he had already taken his dinner;
sometimes, after he arose from his knees, he took some food
that had been placed at his side and ate it. But when the
other inquired whence it came he would not tell him.
"Oh!" he answered, "some one has dropped it there."
He would never tell him what he was doing when he was
kneeling.

On learning that he was carefully watched he gave the
fellow a severe reprimand. " Why don't you mind your own
business and leave me to mind mine?" he asked. "What
are you always watching me for? Do you imagine that
I am a thief ? Do you know what becomes of those who
steal? Do you know they go to hell? I shall take good care
of the flock committed to my trust, and you would better
attend to your own business, and never mind me."

But the other was not to be thus disarmed of his sus-
picions, or deterred from entering his complaints. This
time, however, he met with a severe rebuke from the king.
" Do you attend to your own work," he said to him, " and
let that other man alone. He is a good man ; he prays
and serves God, and I can trust him."

The king had another interview with the young man, and
promised him that if he would take good care of the sheep
he would see him well paid. He had by this time become
very anxious about home. He wanted to see his father and
mother. The king commended him for his diligence, and
wished him to remain, but told him that if he desired to go
he might, and that he would be paid. After weighing the
matter, however, he concluded to remain a little longer.
[It was after this that he gave the other the lecturing for
interfering with him. The elder shepherd had noticed
another strange thing that he did, — that he would often

\.ry\i

THE ORCHARD-KEEPER.

407

walk about the pasture and look in every direction. He
was asked to explain this as well as other anomalous actions.
" Why, I am watching my master's sheep," he said. " I wish
to be faithful to my employer, and I must see that wild
beasts or other thieves do not steal any of the flock."]

One day, when he was in the field at his business, whom
should he see coming towards him but his father? They
were mutually rejoiced at the meeting. They incjuired after
each other's welfare. The old man told his sun that his
mother was dead, and that he was lonely and wanted him
to come home. The father then returned, and the young
man went to the king and told him that his mother was
dead, and his father was all alone and wished him to return.
So the king paid him off, and asked him if he would carry
anything else home in case he gave it to him. He told him
he could not. So he took his money and went home.

His father now told him that they would cultivate the
piece of land which they owned, and that it, together with
the house and orchard, should be his when he himself should
die, and that from the produce of this and the apple-trees
they would be able to obtain food enough to last them for
some time. They received that year a wonderful crop ; they
themselves ate the fruit that grew on the seventh tree, which
was out of the reach of Satan, and under which the old man
had been able to pray with such success. From the crop
that year they obtained a sufficiency to last seven years,
and then they gave themselves wholly up to prayer.

The young man thought they would be more comfortable
if they had a housekeeper, and proposed bringing home a
wife. But the father decidedly objected to this. It would
breed trouble, he feared. " We can live together quietly,"
said he ; " but if you bring a woman she may be dissatisfied,
and may not be kind to me, and you would better remain
single." To this the other agreed.

But one day he saw a woman pass his window, and she
passed several days in succession. It was the same woman

mm^^m^^wmmmmmmmm

i^ vr\i

--S«

408

Ar/CAMC INDIAX l.F.GF.NDS,

every time, and the yoiins nian inquired of his father what
it meant. The father cautioned him that it was a tempta-
tion from the adversary, and he was bound to be upon his
guard. So ho paid no attention to her, and her visits were
discontinued.

V>y and by the father sickened and died. Tlicn the son
became exceedinj^Iy lonely. He concluded to sell all the
property except the seventh tree. This was reserved in
the compact. 1 le remained unmarried because his father
had enjoined it, but he left the place and started off to seek
new adventures, with the price of his farm in his pocket.

He had not gone far before he met a man who asked him
where he was from and whither he was going ; on learning
the particulars he offered to accompany him. The man told
him his name was Sakawach (Old Times, or The Ancient
One). He gave his name as Nebookt' (Forest). Old Times
told his comrade that he resided in the ancient town of
Old Times, which was not very far away. " Are you a
married man?" asked Forest. " No," said the other; "are
you } " " I am not," was the answer. " Then let us join
interests and go together." To this they agreed, and Forest
was invited to accompany him home. He found there a
very large town, and learned that the inhabitants were
numerous, that they lived promiscuously together, and that
there was no such thing as marriage among them.' There
he remained for a time, but he was not at all satisfied. He
could not enjoy the society of the townsfolk ; after a while
he died and went to heaven, where he rejoined his father and
mother.

[Related to me by Nancy Jcddore, Feb. 7, 1871. She
says she heard the story from her mother, who was a real
A7>{;////.]

1 SaiiroHc/naiii^c: This, as explained by the narrator, indicates the state ol
society among the Indians in their native heathen condition.

[

, ,f>vr \i

Il'/SKUMOOGIVASOO AND MAGll'/S.

409

LXXVIII.

WISKUMOOGWASOO AND IMAGWIS
(1--KSH-HA\VK AND SCAl'EGKACi:).

TWO men, Fish-hawk and Scapegrace, met and conversed
together. Scapegrace said to l'"ish-ha\vk, " I think I
can rise as high in the air and fly as swiftly as you can. [The
Fish-hawk flies higher than any other bird ; he dives down
and catches a fish, and is sometimes pursued by the eagle,
while bearing off his pri/.c ; in that case he drops his fish,
which is immediately seized and carried off by the enemy.
The Magwis is a heavy-moving l)ird, and is not particular
about his food ; so says Tom Brooks.] Scapegrace proposed
that they should enter into partnership and hunt together.
Fish-hawk said that he was very particular in his choice of
food, — he would not eat what was stale; he must have it
fresh and sweet. Scapegrace replied, " As to myself, I can
eat anything. I do not mind how old and stale the food is;
it is still palatable." " Very well," said the other. "Come
on, let us take a trip together, and sec how we make out.
We will go and visit a neighboring town." He made this
proposal because he supposed he could very soon outstrip
Scapegrace, and leave him to his fate. So they started in
company.

Very soon the Fish-hawk was far ahead and out of sight.
He reached the town, and reported that an ugly stranger was
on the way, and warned them to have nothing to do with him.
" He eats all kinds of carrion ; he is bringing his food along
with him, and will endeavor to persuade you to eat of it.

4IO

MICMAC IN 01 AN LEGENDS.

.\ 'Mi;:--

But do not listen to him; the stuff is poison, and his object
is to kill you all."

Fish-hawk, having been entertained and fed, went away.
After a while Mr. Scapegrace arrived. He wa;-,, directed to
the lodge of the chief There, after the usual inquiries had
been made, a feast was prepared. Scapegrace ate what he
brought, and offered of it to the rest. They pretended to eat
it, but took good care not to do so. After the eating was over,
he asked them if the food was pleasant to the taste. They
replied, " Yes." He now told the chief that he was in search
of a wife, and inquired if there were any girls in the village to
be disposed of. The chief told him there were, and directed
him where to go. He inquired the name of the mother of
the young ladies, and was told that it was Amalchoogwech'
(Racrcoii). Scapegrace walked over to the lodge that had
been pointed out. One of the girls was standing outside, and
saw him coming. She called to those in the lodge, Alagivis,
wcchkooirt' (" Scapegrace is coming"). She gave him any-
thing but a kind reception. She ordered him off, saying,
Ulunicy? (" Go home"). But he persevered, entered, and
made known his errand. "Are these your daughters?"
he inquired of Mrs. Raccoon. " They are," she replied.
"Will you give me one for a wife?" "No, I will not," she
answered. Thus repulsed, he took his departure.

After he was gone from the place, his comrade. Fish-hawk,
returned and inquired, " Did the stranger of whom I spoke
come? " " He did," was the answer. " And did he bring his
own food, as I said he would?" "He did," said they.
"And did you eat of it?" They assured him that they did
not. " It was well that you took my advice," he answered.
" You would all have died had you eaten of the poisonous
stuff."

He now told the chief that in case anything were about to
happen to his village, he would be able to give him warning
of it. " You will only have to think of me, when you see a
bird flying very high over your village, and I will be on hand

[■f;i

•mmmm ■■■ m mx. - -■ t w w u B w anHwr-

W/SA'UMOOGIVASOO AXD MAG WIS,

411

to tell you what is going to happen." I'ish-hawk now went
home. After he was gone, the chief pondered long and
anxiously over what he had been told by the stranger. " He
must be a great lioooin," thought he. " He could foretell
the coming of Magwis, and he spoke of some untoward event
about to happen to our village. I wonder what he could
mean." One day as he was thinking deeply on the subject,
he cast his eyes upward, and saw a bird very high in the air,
wheeling about in circles, and wished that it might be
VViskumoogwasoo, and that he might come down and pay
him a visit. No sooner said than done. The man was there.
" You spoke of trouble about to ensue," said the chief to Mr.
Fish-hawk, " when you were here before. Did you have
reference to anything in particular?" "I did," was the
reply. " Your village is to be attacked by a Kookwes
(7/705, giant), and unless you use precautions, you will all be
destroyed." " How long before he will be upon us?" asked
the anxious chief. "Seven days hc.ice," was the reply.
" But you must get into your canoes and push away out into
the lake; you must get beyond the hearing of his horrible
whoop, or you will be killed by the noise."

Having uttered his dolorous message and given his in-
structions, the stranger departed again for his home.

Now it happened that there was a clever fellow in the
village, named Ooskoon' (Liver), who was somewhat of an
adept in the art of magic, and he told the inhabitants that
they need not be much alarmed. "The giant cannot kill
me," said he. " I know how to manage him, and I can tell
you all what to do ; but let us get the canoes and all things
else ready in time."

When the time came they manned their canoes, and taking
in all the women and children, moved out far into the middle
of the lake. Ooskoon' directed them to fill their ears with
tallow, so as to prevent the whoop of the giant from being
heard. All did this, and then awaited the onset. They could
not tell, as they could neither see nor hear, whether the

412

MIC MAC TXDIAN LEGENDS.

Ri'lt

enemy had reached the village or not. But Ooskoon' after a
time removed the tallow from one of his ears, and sure
enough he heard the whoop; but it did not sound very
formidable, nor did it injure him in the least. He therefore
told his friends they need not be alarmed. They might
remove the stuffing from their ears, as the sounds would not
injure them. They followed his advice, and all was siKnt.
The enemy was evidently baffled and had retired. They sent
home scouts, who found everything quiet, and returning
reported accordingly. So tliC people went home.^

In a day or two their friend Fish-hawk made them another
visit, and asked if the Kookwes had visited them as he had
predicted. " He did, and we escaped by taking to our canoes
and stuffing our ears with tallow." " Which way did he gr ^ "
asked Mr. Fish-hawk. "Well, I think you can tell lint
yourself," was the answer, " as you are well acquainted with
the la)' of the land around here, and so well informed on all
these important matters." Taking the hint, he went home,
and did not obtrude any of his predictions or advice upon
them afterwards.

But now Mr. Ooskoon' had some adventures. He told his
friends that he wished to travel a little and see the world ;
he would give over the authority to the old chief whose place
he had been occupying.

So he started. On his way he met a stranger, who inquired
where he was from, and whither he was going, and what he
was in quest of. He replied that he was travelling for
amusement, — to look at the world and to pray. "To pray,"
said the stranger, — what is that?" "Oh, nc ihing," he
replied ; " I do not choose to tell you what that is. But how
far is it to the next town, and what kind of a town is it? "
The stranger gave him all the information he required, de-

1 The vill.ipers were nowso plcnsedwith the wisdom and skill of Oosl<nnn' thnt
he was elevated totiie chieftainship instead of Kisli-hawk. Goskoon"s opinion
was that Mr. Fish-hawk had fulfilled his own predictions, and after all was a
man o'" small consequence.

Mnv*"^*

JIVSA't\UOOGlVASOO AXD MAG WIS.

413

ircd
It he
for

ay,"

he
how
it?"
, de-

scribed the place, and told him whore he v/onld find the
chief's residence. So he went on. After a while he reached
a larj;e town ; and away across to the very farther side, as
he had been told, resided the chief upon whom he, as a
stranger, should call. He had not been from home but
seven days. The chief inquired his name. " I have no
name," was his answer ; " my father's name was Ooskoon'
(Liver), but he never gave me any name." "Where are
you from .' " asked the chief. " From no place in particu-
lar," said he ; " I have been roving about niglit and day for
thi: last seven years." " Humph ! " said the other, " that 's a
likely story ; seven da}-s, you mean." " No," said the other,
" I mean seven }'ears ; I have been cruising about seven
years." " Can you tell the difference between a day and a
year? " asked the other. "Of course I can!" " Well, can
3'ou tell me how many days there are in seven years?"
This was a poser; he could not do the sum, and had to give
it up. " Well, see here ! " said his friend ; " go away yonder
to that end of the village, and you will find a man who will
be able to tell you the difference between seven years and
seven days. He will be able to give you all the information
and advice you need." Ooskoon' went on.

He met a man, of whom he inquired where the ro}'al city
was. He told him that it lay beyond the adjoining forest, but
that it would be difficult to reach it, as the forest abounded
in formidable beasts of prey; but should he escape their
jaws and get through the forest, h.e would discover the town
just beyond. He thought he could overcome the wild beasts ;
he could conceal himself in a hollow tree while they passed,
and elude them. So he went on; when he heard the roar
of the wild beasts or saw them coming, he took refuge in
the hollow of a tree, and so escaped. He found the town
where the king dwelt, and spread the alarming news that a
multitude of wild beasts were coming down upon them, and
recommended an immediate turn-out to hunt ami destroy
them. The alarm spread, and soon reached the ro)al ears.

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The king sent for the stranger, and heard his report. He
had come across that forest, he said, and narrowly escaped
being torn to pieces. He had seen an immense number of
savage beasts of formidable size coming towards the city. The
king mustered all his men, and sent them off armed to meet
the savage invaders. Ooskoon' offered to conduct the party,
but fell back as soon as he reached the forest, and concealed
himself behind a tree, while the army passed on. After they
had all gone by, he came out, waited awhile, and then,
meeting one of the townsfolk, he sent him back to the king
to say that they had destroyed most of the wild beasts,
and that it was the unanimous request of the men that he
would come out and bring all the royal family to sec them.
Back posted the fellow in hot haste, and announced the news
in the palace. Immediately the royal carriage was brought
out, and all hands started to see the beasts. Ooskoon'
dodged behind a tree while they passed, and then, hastening
to the town and the palace, told the steward that the king
had sent him in great haste for some weapons and some
money. These were given him immediately; and the rascal
made off as fast as his legs could carry him, taking care to
go by a path that led in the opposite direction to that in
which the king and his soldiers had gone. Having reached
a place of safety, he deposited his ill-gotten booty ; and after
a few days, having disguised himself, he returned to the
town. Here he inquired if there had been a stranger there
recently, whom he described; they told him there had been.
" He is a great rascal," said he, "although he is my brother.
I am in search of him ; can any one tell me which way he
went? " This they could none of them do. He said, " The
fellow is a great liar and thief; and if you can catch him,
kill him at once." Ooskoon' now went on in quest of further
adventure.

He fell in after a while with a fellow-traveller, of whom
he made inquiries respecting the geography of the land.
" There is a large Indian town," said he, " not far off, where

ir/SfCi'MOOGWASOO AND MAGWIS.

415

I reside." " Are there any marriageable young women
there?" asked Ooskoon'. "Oh, nian\- of them!" was the
answer ; " but the chief will not allow any of them to be
carried away from the town. He wishes to keep all the
young men and young women under his jurisdiction." " ]5ut
I will manage it," said Ooskoon'; "I will be bound I can
steal and carry off two girls, — one for each cf us, — if you
will unite with and help me." To this the other appeared to
agree, and they went together to the town. " But wait a
moment," said Ooskoon' ; " let us exchange dresses." To
this his friend consented ; and thus accoutred, they went on.
The other directed Ooskoon' to a wigwam where there vere
several girls, and went along with him. Ooskoon' asked the
mother for one of the daughters, and she told him that it
depended upon the chief; he must go and consult him.
Meanwhile the other said he must step out and fetch the
bundle he had left; and as soon as he was outside, he ran
over to the chief and gave the alarm. " There is a fellow
in yonder lodge who is devising to steal and run off with
two of the girls ; you would better despatch him at once."
The chief needed no urging, but forthwith sent a man, who
entered suddenly and killed Ooskoon'.

[Related by Nancy Jeddore, Feb. 15, 1S71.]

4i6

MIC MAC hXDIAN LEGENDS,

n • f ' !■

LXXIX.

THE WHALES AND THE ROBBERS.

THlMvE were once seven towns not very far apart, belong-
ing to one tribe. On a certain occasion a company of
young people, composed of a \'oiing woman and a young
man from each of these towns, started on an excursion to the
sea-shore. The/ told the chief of the town from which the
company set out that they were going to the sea-side, and
would bring to him a faithful report of all they saw and
heard ; and should they fiiul anything to bring away, they
would bring that to \\n\\ also.

Away they went down to the shore, and while there they
heard most delightful music. It was so sweet and charming
that they thought it surely came from heaven ; but they were
mistaken. It was the crying of whales;^ so one of the
parties told the rest, rrcscntl}- they saw a shoal of whales
spouting in 'C\c distance, crying and coming in towards

1 I have ienrncd to-day several important points in natural history, (i)'rhe
whales, so says Nancy Jeddorc, often, and especially when struck with a harpoon
and in the agonies of death, utter sounds that resemble the sound of a wind-
instrument with a great variety of intonations, Vi;ry musical and delightful to
hear. (2) The fish-hawk will not eat fish that has fallen out of his claws. He
will not take any that arc dead, though they lie in plenty on tiie shore. (3) There
are three kinds of loons. The largest kind inhabit the fresh-water lakes. This
is called in Micmac Coos^hnediuach. It is this that makes such a doleful, dismal
howl. It is a very handsome bird, spotted, and having a bluish-black neck and
licad. (4) All the birds that feed on .ish and ilesh have the faeiilty of disgorging
tlii.Mnselves at will. The jiaunch is ; long sack. They swallow bones and all,
and when the flesh is digested, throw up the bones. A crow or an owl will do
the same thing. An owl will swallow the leg-bone of a ral)bit ; this cannot
jiass the small intestines, and so after the flesh has been dissolved in the
stomach, the bone is disgorged as well as the fur. There is a bird of the gull
kind that will swallow a mackerel, and then be unable to lly. If alarmed, it will
disgorge the tish and tly.

THE WHALES AND THE ROBBERS.

4^7

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the shore. The noise affected the ^irls, and made them feel
very sad. This the yoiin<^ men perceived, and warned them.
" Loolv at tliem," said tlie}-, " but do not pay any attention .o
the mnsic they are makinLj. If yon do, you will be over-
powered by their enchantment and carried off." Tiie girls,
ho\ve\'er, could not help lisleninL^; but when they saw the
whales approaching the shore at full speed, the\' fled alarmed,
and concealed themselves in the woods, but the men remained.

One whale seemed to be the chief and leader of the rest ;
and finding that he coidd converse with them, they concei\ed
a very high opinion of his abilities. lie was certainly, so they
learned, some supernatural agent, and could grant them what-
ever they asked.

So one' by one they proffered their requests. The first one
wanted to obtain one of the most beautiful girls for a wife;
tin) second desired shrewdness and wisdom ; the third, that
he might be endowed with great strength; the fourth, that
he might be victorious and successfid in all he undertook;
the fifth, that he might live long; the sixth, that he might
be a magician; the seventh, that he might become a king.
The friendly whale promised all that they asked for, and
then retired. Now said the one who had been dubbed kimi,
" Let u.s go and look for the girls." Away they went, and
soon found the frightened girls; but they did not tell them
what had happened. They let them know, however, that
they had nothing to fear from the whales.

But the }'oung man who had been promised a beautiful
bride immediately made his selection, for the choice of his
heart was one of the company ; and when he proffered his
heart and hand, she, nothing loath, accepted t!ie offer, and
they walked home together as man and wife.

When they reached the town whence they had set out, this
girl told the chief all that she had seen and heard. " We
heard," said she, " the most enchanting music as we sat b)- the
sea-shore. We verily believed that the enrapturing strains
proceeded from the skv ; but we were mistaken. It was pro-

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418

MICMAC INDIAN LEGENDS.

i;;i

duccd by a shoal of whales. These approached the shore.
We looked at them and listened until we got frightened, and
then we girls all ran away. Thus have I told you, as I
promised, all that we saw and heard. We did not find any-
thing to bring home, except that 1 found a husband; but
him I must keep myself, I cannot give him to you."

The young man who had been promised a kingdom told a
dream to his father. A'c'6', pdzvci' (" Father, I have had a
dream"). "And pray what did you dream? " asked the old
man. " I dreamed that I became a king and was made
immediately rich." " Very well," was the father's response,
" all right ; " and he encouraged the son to hope for the
fulfilment of his dream. ^

Now, there was one girl of the company who had listened
to the sweet music made by the whales, and who could not
get the music out of her head. It haunted her night and
day, but especially in the night. The would-be king heard
of this, and he became enamored of the beautiful maid.
"That is the girl for me," said he to himself, " if I can only
manage to get her." So he called on the young lady, and
made proposals. She at first rejected him. She would not
marry until she had found the man who had been destined
for her husband, as had been intimated to her by some
supernatural means. She had the name of the man, and
until she was sought in marriage by one of that name, she
intended to remain single. "What is his name?" he asked
her. " Nadadasoode (Wisdom)," she answered. "If that is
the case," said he, " then I am your man, for that is my name.
It was given me by the whale on the day of our visit to the
sea-shore." Still she hesitated. But one day while the
seven men were together, she heard one of them address one
of the others by that name. She was struck with the name
and the circumstance, and thought her suitor might be right.
She had been told that there was no such name in any of

1 Then he went to the king, and related the whole circumstance of the whales,
and how all seven of the men had received new titles.

THE WHALES AA'D THE ROBBERS

419

lales,

the seven towns. But it seemed there was such a name ; and
her wily suitor, though it was atldressed to the one wlio had
requested to be " wise," had appropriated it to himself, and
said to her, " Didn't I tell you so? You heard that fellow
addressing me and calling me Nadad.isoode. Now I hope you
will believe that I am the man destined to be your husband."
Not only did he appropriate to himself the name of Nadada-
soode, but he took all the other names. He was the husband
of the beauteous bride, he was the " mighty one," he was
"the conquer all," he was "long life," he was " ]?oooin,"
and he was " king." Thus deceived, the poor girl cciiisented
to become his wife; and so they were married and their
union celebrated with all the usual festivities.

Some time after this, he proposed to go with her again to
the sea-shore, and see if they could have another interview
with their marine friend. They arrived at the place in due
time, and heard the music of the whales. 13ut she, poor
woman ! was overpowered by it, and fell dead to the ground.
This adventure affected him but little. " Let her go,"
said he; "I can easily get another wife." But the whale
made his appearance again, and confirmed his previous
promise. " You will be king," said he, " in due time."
" How many servants shall I have? " "You will have seven
servants," said the whale. Satisfied with this confirmation
of his aspirations, he returned home, and reported that the
whale had carried off his wife. He had this report circu-
lated about the town, and warned the people not to go down
to the enchanted shore.

In the mean time the would-be king consulted his father,
and recommended him to go in quest of his kingdom. So
he started ; but he obtained the companionship of Nildada-
soode,' and the two set out together.

On their way they had to pass through a forest where
there were a number of large ferocious wild-beasts. " Oh,

1 This word may be translated " wisdom ; " but " shrewdness, cleverness,
subtlety," would perhaps be nearer the real meaning.

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420

MIC MAC INDIAN LEGENDS.

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what shall we do?" said the terrified would-be king, when
he saw the wild beasts iiiakiiiL; at them. " Climb the nearest
tree with all haste," said the other. This direction was
immediatel)' i)iit into e.xecution. The animals were not of
a kind to follow them up the trees, and they were safe.
They remained on this lofty perch until the enemy had
retired. Then they came down and went on their way.

\\y and by they reached a large town where a king dwelt ;
the)' found the palace and sought an interview with his
r.Iajesty. But previously the would-be king had asked advice
of his wily comrade, as to the best plan of procedure. lie
had proposed the following: "Tell the king you are his
brother, and that you were carried off by Indians when a
little boy, and that you have lately discovered who you arc,
and have come to make yourself known to him." This plan
he followed. Having been introduced to the king, he in-
formed him, when he was questioned, who he was, whence
he came, whither he was going, what his business was. " I
am your brother," said he. " Did your parents never tell you
that when you were a child, you had a brother that was
carried off by the Indians? " " No, they did not," said the
king; "I have never heard of such an event." But sud-
denly, as if just recollecting himself (for Nadadasoode, who
had a touch of the magical about him and could use en-
chantment, now brought his powers to bear upon the king),
the latter exclaimed, "Certainly, certainly! I remember all
about it. I did have a brother carried off by the Indians,
and have often heard my parents speak of it." " Well," said
the other, " I am the man. I have been often told that you
were my brother, and have come to make )'ou a visit." He
was received with the utmost cordiality and confidence. The
king had it proclaimed all over the place that a long-lost
brother had been found. The king also told him that he
would divide the kingdom with him, and said, " Should you
outlive me, you shall be king in my place." A house was
furnished him, and seven men given him as servants.

THE IVIfAl.ES A. YD THE KOPPERS.

421

Tluis established, he and his wily servant bc<;an to plot fur-
ther. "Our affairs are now [^oinq on prosperously," said they
to each other. " When we shall ha\e sticceetled in obt.iin-
\x\g all the wealth we need, we can return to our nwn home."

Now the kin;-( hatl a \er)' fair dauj^hter, and a [ilot was
laid between the two to draw her into the tra[) ; the plan
was carried out in this way: The psendo-kin^ often rode
out with his brother, who treated him with the greatest atten-
tion, all the faniil}' doin<^- the same, and often visiting him
and his friend at their own residence. One ilay the king
was asked by his pseudo-brother if he would bi; willing that
his niece should reside permanently with them and oversee
the house, as it was rather dull and hmely there. No ol)jec-
tion was made to the i)roposal. The young and beautiful
princess could keep house for her own uncle without any
seeming impropriety, and she was soon installed accordingly.
To get her for his own wife or mistress was of course out of
the question, but he would manage to get her for his friend.
This was planned, and the plot went on.

" Uncle," said the young lady one day, " who is this man,
and what is he, that you have with j'on here?" "Oh, he is
the son of the parties who brought me up," he answered,
" and he is my servant."

One day when the two kings were about going out for a
drive, the pretended uncle told the niece that he wanted her
to come out and meet them when they returned, and Nada-
dasoode, his servant, would escort her. To this she agreed,
and accordingly at the proper time they set out. l?ut
Nadadasoode led her along to where there were beautiful
flowers growing by the wayside, to which he called her
attention ; she went forward gathering the flowers and admir-
ing them, until he had led her awa\' into the forest, and
roamed and roamed until he knew she would ne\er find her
way out alone. He then slipped out of sight and left her.
He soon heard her call. He knew she was lost, and gave
no answer, but took the way that would bring him to meet

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422

MICMAC INDIAN LEGENDS.

the kings. They inquired after the princess, and he said he
had left her back a small distance gathering flowers. When
they came to the place, she was not there, and he said she
must have gone home. But when they reached the palace,
nothing had been heard of her. The king and all were
alarmed. "Can you find her in the forest? "said the king
to Nadadasoode. " I will do my best," said h'^. " Find
her," said the father, " and she shall be yours." " Agreed,"
said the other. " Remember your promise ; " and he darted
off to the place where he had left her. He called, and she
soon answered, and was overjoyed to find her way back. " I
lost you," said he, " and thought you had gone home."

When they returned home, the king, her father, did not fail
to fulfil his engagement. The princess was given to the
fellow in marriage. A great festival was made in honor of
the occasion ; the citizens were sorely displeased, but the
king had his own way.

Soon after this the two rascals concluded that their game
must be soon played out. " Let us wind up the business,"
said they, " and retire." So the pretended brother told the
king that his friend had had an alarming dream ; and from
what he knew of him, he had reason to believe that what he
had dreamed would come to pass, for he had never known
it to fail. The dream was that they were to be attacked in
a few days by an invading army. The town would be sacked
and the people destroyed. " Your barns will be burned on
the night preceding the attack."

The warning note having been sounded, preparations were
made accordingly. It was arranged that the two kings
should remain in one house, and that should be the king's
palace.

When all was ready, Nadaddsoode one night watched his
opportunity and set fire to the king's barn. All was commo-
tion and confusion. The king ran to assist in getting out the
horses and cattle ; while he was out and the house was left
alone, the wily robbers laid their hands on as much as they

)

THE iVHALES AND THE ROBBERS.

423

could carry oft", and then ran away. When the king returned,
they were not to be found. He could not imagine what had
become of them, but concluded that they had probably
perished in the fire. Here the story ends.

[Related by Nancy Jeddore, Feb. 10, 187 1. She says that
she learned it, with No. LXXVHI. and many others, from
her mother.

424

MICMAC INDIAN LEGENDS,

LXXX.

THE DOCTOR.

' I ^HERE was once a man who had seven sons. Their motlier

-^ died when the youngest was but a child. The father
was a poor, hard-working man. The eldest son was still small
when his mother died, but he could assist a little in taking
care of his brothers. They did very well in obtaining food,
but fared badly for clothing; they miosed the mother sadly
in the matter of washing and mending. Sometimes while
the old man wrought in the field he would send the eldest
son round to beg for clothing for his brothers.

To add to their troubles, one of the boys hurt his knee
and was a cripple for several years.

One day, while the father was alone at his work, a stranger
came up to him and inquired after his welfare, and also after
the state of his family. Now, it happened that a few nights
before, he had seen this very person in a dream ; he had
dreamed that this person asked all the questions which he in
reality did ask. He declared that he was a prophet, and
that he knew the man's family affairs. He told him that his
seventh son would be a great physician, and that he would
begin to acquire the art of healing at the age of seventeen,
that he would study the nature of plants and roots for a
whole year, and would then cure his lame brother; after this
his fame would extend, and he would grow rich by his art.
His eldest son would become a king. " As for you," he said
to the father, " you will die in seven years from this time."

All these things the worthy man treasured up in his mind,
but told no one of them until the seventh son had reached
his seventeenth birthday. Having arrived at this age, the

THE DOCTOR.

425

young man took to searching and tasting roots and herbs.
Towards the end of his scventeentli year, after he had ac-
quired considerable knov ^dge of the habits and properties of
plants, he one day met a stranger in the woods who inquired
what he was doing. He gave him at first an evasive answer,
but finally discovering that the man knew all about it, he
told him the whole truth. The man encouraged him to
proceed, and taught him how to know the poisonous and
injurious qualities of the plants and roots from their healing
virtues. lie would be able to test them by the smell. He
was also directed never to administer his remedies internally;
they were all to be applied to the surface. He was thus
empowered by supernatural means both to prepare his reme-
dies and to administer them. He must divide the profits
with his father.

The next day he tried his skill on his brother's knee. He
carefully rubbed on his preparation and awaited the result.
The next week the knee was well. The news soon spread,
and it was not long before he had an application to visit a
sick person in the neighborhood, who was very low and given
over to die. He examined the case, and gave the patient
encouragement that he would recover. At the same time he
acknowledged that he could not cure all cases. " When a
man's appointed time has come," he said, " no skill can save
him ; then he must die." The next day, after having been
thoroughly rubbed and manipulated, the patient was able to
sit up in his bed, and in one week he was well, though it
took him some time to recover his strength completely.

Soon after, his third brother sickened and died. His father
could not readily understand why the same skill that wrought
such wonders in the other cases should not be efficacious in
this one. But the young physician had already given the
explanation; the boy's time had come. "And, father," said
he, " yours will soon come too. It is now nearly seven years
since you had that visit from the prophet. Did he not tell
you that in seven years you would die?" "Yes, he did,"

426

MICMAC INDIAX LEGENDS.

ill.

was tlic answer ; and the event verified the prediction. The
man fell sick, and in a few days expired. All the rest of
the brothers soon followed, except the oldest and the
youngest.

These two concluded to leave the old homestead in the
country, now that the rest had all gone, and remove to some
town. So they started to travel. After a few days they
reached a city where a king resided, whose only child,
a son, had been ill for four years. When the two strangers
were questioned respecting their place of residence, their
business, and their object in visiting this place, they told the
straightforward truth. Their father had been a poor man,
they said, and they too were poor; but the younger one
was skilled in the healing art, and the other could do ordinary
kinds of work, and wished to get his living by his labor.

They were soon informed that the king had a very sick
child, who had been a long time in a dangerous condition.
They managed to acquaint the king with their arrival and
skill, and were soon sent for to go to the palace. The child
was carefully examined and pronounced curable. The proper
remedies were applied and the doctor was about leaving,
when the king requested him to remain all day by the
patient. But he replied that it was not necessary ; he had
other patients to attend, and would visit the child on the
morrow. The next day when he came, the child was able to
sit up, and was much better. In a few days he was wholly
cured, though his strength did not return immediately.

The king was so overjoyed that he gave him, as he had
promised, half of his kingdom. He declined this for himself,
and handed it over to his brother. He continued to practise
his profession, and his fame was greatly enhanced by his
success at the palace. He opened a school for instructing
others in the art, though he could not impart to them the
miraculous knowledge which he himself possessed.

One day he had another visit from his old friend, the
prophet. He tried to find out his name, but he could not

,"^

THE DOCTOR.

427

succeed. The old man told him he had no other name than
Ncganikchijctcgawenoo (the I'rophct).

After a while the king was taken ill, and ascertained that
his time had come. His sun was not yet old enough to
assume the reins of government; so the king, calling him to
his bedside, gave him a charge. The son was to give the
whole authority into the hands of the doctor's brother, until
he should become of age, and then he was to assume the half
that would fall to him by right. To this all consented, and
then the old king died.

In due time the young prince was of age, the authority
of his part of the kingdom was handed over to him, and
all went on harmoniously. The two brothers became im-
mensely rich, and used their wealth in promoting the inter-
ests of the kingdom and of all concerned.

[Related by Nancy Jeddore, April, 1871.]

H I

■/

428

MICMAC IXDIAX LEGENDS.

LXXXI.

THE FLYING SQUIRREL.

" I "MERE was a large Indian village owned and occupied
-^ by the tribe of the Sakskadook' (Elying Squirrels).^
Near by was a large lake, on the borders of which resided
two brothers. One day one of these said to the other, " Conic
on, let us go to the next town and pay a visit." " Agreed,"
said the other. So away they went ; before long they
arrived at the town, and inquired for the chief's residence.
This was pointed out to them, and they were soon on good
terms with the chief's son. But they were astonished at the
paucity of the inhabitants; hardly any one seemed to be
stirring. 15ut as soon as the sun went down, and evening
came on, the town was alive with people. They were run-
ning round, scaling the trees, and sailing overhead in the air.
One of them asked in his astonishment, " What does all this
mean? Are these magicians?" "Oh, no,'' his friend replied,
" they are Sakskadook' (Flying Squirrels)."

The next day they proposed to the young chief to take
an excursion with them and see what they could discover.
He promised to go in seven days. On the seventh morning
he directed the other two to go round the lake, and he would
join them on the opposite side. So they did as he directed,
while he went across, sailing over in the air; then they all
set off together. They went in a northerly direction, and
after a while came out to an Indian village. They inquired
how far it was to where the king resided. They were told

1 The flying squirrels move about only in the evening. They make their
nests and rear their young in old trees, making their bed of bushels of old, dry
bark, wood, and moss.

THE FLYIXG SQUIRREL.

429

that they must pass two more villages and that the third
one would be the place. So on they went ; but before they
readied the oodrm they came to a wide river; here Ihcte was
a bridge, whieh was the peculiar property of the king, and
no one was allowed to cross without special permission, —
a precaution taken to prevent robbers from entering the
place.

The three travellers applied to the servant who guarded
the bridge for permissio;! to pass, and he went and made
his report to the palace. Inquiry was made as to who they
were, when they had come, what kind of looking fellows
they were, and what their professed business was. To all
these questions satisfactory answers were given, and the
three men were permitted to enter the town.

They had taken care all along to let it be known that the
leading man of the party was a chief's son, and that they
two were servants.

Some days after the three adventurers had taken up their
abode in this royal city, they announced that they expected
the arrival of a large vessel. The vessel arrived accordingly,
manned by a party of the Flying Squirrel tribe. The king,
the townsmen, and especially the king's son were greatly
pleased with the vessel, and wanted to buy her. So a bar-
gain was struck, and the vessel was sold for a large price;
and the sailors who came in her were engaged for a voyage,
in which the king's son was to make a pleasure-trip. They
made great preparations for the excursion, and a bountiful
supply of all sorts of needed stores was laid in, and the
expedition started. The two men who were not of the
Flying Squirrel tribe acted as treasurers to the adventurers,
and took the price of their ship and the sailors' wages, and
waited in the woods till the Flying Squirrel sailors should
join them.

The ship in the mean time stood ofif with a fine breeze,
and all went on smoothly till nightfall, when the sailors,
taking advantage of their ability to sail through the air, left

" ■it*'* Ab«MMU»'^aU4W« ,

430

MICMAC INDIAN LEGENDS.

the vessel and returned to their cr)mpaninns. The prince,
on awaking in the morning, was surprised to find the ship
floating at the mercy of the waves and winds, minus his
crew. They were drifted asliorc, and he and his party got
home the best way they could, and found that they were
all deceived.

Meanwhile the adventurers had divided their booty and
gone off home.

The king, finding that he had been duped, pursued the
party to their own village. But they were apprised of his
approach by one of the leading men, who had been notified
of it in a dream. They made use of their wings to escape,
so that when their enemies arrived they found nothing but
a deserted town ; and as there was no possibility of follow-
ing the trail, they had to return home and bear their loss as
best thev could.

THE I-AIKY.

431

LXXXII.

THI-: FAIRY.

AWAY in the woods, in a solitary wifjwani, dwelt three
l)rt)thcrs, who were all unmarried. Two of them usu-
ally went out a hunting, and one kept the house. The one
who remained at home and did the cookinj; usually went
into the woods the following day; and thus they hunted and
did housework in rotation continually.

One day, just as the cvcninr; meal had been prepared, a
very small person entered, — small as the tiniest chiUl, — and
said that he was hungry, and asked for food. This was
freely bestowed, a quantity being placed in a dish and set
before him. He greedily devoured it all, and asked for
more. This was given and despatched ; nor was he satisfied
until all that had been cooked for the three men had been
eaten up. The little man then retired.

When his two companions came in. their brother related
his adventure. They all wondered, and the other two said
that it must have been an evil spirit; and should it come
back while they were at home, it would not fare so well.

The next day one of the others took his turn at house-
keeping, and the same thing occurred; back came the small
man ju.st as supper was ready, and solicited food. lie did
it so piteously, and withal with such apparent earnestness
and need, that the man forgot his resolution and fed him to
the full, — he devouring again all that had been cooked.

On the third day it was the turn of the eldest to remain
at home; he said that he would not be imposed upon, and
carried out his threat. He refused to feed the little man,
ordered him to leave the wigwam, and when he refused to

432

MIC MAC IXniAN LF.GENDS.

■t

ir-

elf) so, ihc master of the house {grappled willi liim, but foiin^l
it no chilil's-play to luana^'e liim. 'I'hc small chap had
ph)'sical stri-iii;tli eciiial to liis eating; powers. The man,
getting worsted in the striii^'^'Ie, was j^lad to let go his Rrasp ;
whereupon the imp sprani; out of the wigwam and fled, the
man following with a sharp iron weapon in his hand. Just
as they came to the face of a iii^h precipice, the weapon was
thrown at the fuj^itive and thrust completely thronj^h his
boil)' ; at that instant he darted ri>,'ht into the face of the
rock, carryint; the weapon stickin<f through his body.

The next day the same man kept house again, and was
visited by the same personage, the iron still sticking through
him. lie begged the man to withdraw the weapon, but he
stoutly refused. Finally the 7vi^<;^i'il()tiiitnooch' (or, as Nancy
Jeddore ])ronounces it, f^^ul^dfimooclt' , fairy) promised the
man that if he would withdraw the iron from his body, he
would take him and his brothers to a place where they
would find some beautiful young women for wives. Upon
this the weapon was withdrawn. "Hut how can you get
cured of the wound?" asked the man. "Oh, that is an easy
matter!" answered the fairy; "lean readily manage that."
Upon this the other two men arrived from the woods, and
were informed of the bargain that had been made. The fairy
led ofT, and bade the men follow. Me led them to the top of a
high cliff, and through a door which opened into a large cave ;
here was a fine and spacious room, around which were seated
a row of small women, of the same rank and species as the
fairy who had brought them thither. Above these were
seated rows of men of the same genus. The three men were
led up to the women, and directed to take their choice. At
first they rejected the proposal, but finally concluded to take
each a wife home, although they well knew that the women
would immediately desert them.

So they stepped up to the row of women, and each took
the object of his choice. The women followed them home ;
and the next day they were asked if they understood the

THE lAfKY.

433

mysteries of hoiisckccpin-.- the art of cooking especially
"Indeed wc do!" replied the fairies. So, havin^r installed
them m office, all the men went out to lu.nt ; bnt when
they returned in the evening, the birds had flown and the
cage was empty.

[Related by Na-icy Jcddorc, July 23, 1871.]

434

MIC MAC INDIAN LEGENDS.

i'd-

liii

il.

LXXXIII.

upsAAkOmoode.

" I "HERE was once a family of Indians consisting of a
-*- father, mother, two sons, and one daughter. They
were very poor. After a while the younger son pioposed to
his brother that they should travel and see if they could not
find some better prospect of obtaining a livelihood, or at
least of finding them each a wife. The elder brother de-
clined going, but encouraged the younger to try his fortune
in some other place. He gave him some sage advice, and
among other things directed liim to make a large sack of
deerskin, — such a sack as is called upsdCikumoodc (a bag of
a particular form and use). He was to gather all sorts
of pretty things and put them in this sack, and then induce
the girl of his choice to go in and look at them, when he
would run off with her. [A poetical representation, I opine,
of the various ways devised by young men to entrap and
ensnare girls.] The brother followed these directions, and
shouldering his sack, started on his expedition.

He soon reached a small town where everything was in
its pristine condition, the stone age not having passed away.
He asked for the chief, but was informed that there was no
chief and that they had no intercourse with strangers and
foreigners. He also informed him that there was a town
some distance farther on, where the people were like him-
self, but he would pass, before he reached it, another very
large one of the ancient style. So he went on.

After a while he reached the looked-for sakdwdchwd oodUn
(ancient town). It was very large and populous, but every-

IJPSAAKUMOODE.

435

thing indicated the age of stone. Men were everywhere
making liitkaajniinrtl (stone arrow-heads). With an old man
thus employed he entered into conversation, and was in-
formed that here were none of the new-fangled inventions.
They had no intercourse with other nations, and adopted
none of their manners. But at some distance farther on
there was a town inhabited by Micmacs, like himself.

The traveller passed on, and came first to a deep, broad
river, which he forded; after that he reached a lake, went
ro jnd it, and on the other side found a large town ; he in-
quired for the chief's lodge, and was directed to it. There
was quite a commotion produced, the people shouting and
running together to see and welcome the stranger. He
visited the chief, and was questioned as to who he was,
whence he came, and what his business was. He replied
that he had come from a long distance, that he had been
sent by his father, and that his intentions were friendly.
This gave general satisfaction. The chief and all the rest
treated him with the attention and respect due to a stranger.
He went home with a young man belonging to the common
people, who treated him very kindly and became his con-
fidential friend. The young people of both sexes mingled
freely in their visits, and conversed together. The stranger,
becoming enamored of one of the chiefs daughters, acter-
mined to steal her and run away.

So in pursuance of his plan, he sallied forth with his
ilpsilakumoode, ana gathered all the beautiful flowers, stones,
and other curiosities that he could find, and put them in the
sack. He then came home, and let his friend into the secret,
and got him to play a part in the rdle. Taking the sack
with its contents, he carried it to a place where the young
people were gathered together, and allowed them to look a^t
the curious contents. One after another peeped in, and
finally the young man who was in the secret was invited to
crawl in and remain awhile. When he came out, he related
some of the wonders he had seen, and was gravely informed

436

MIC MAC INDIAN LEGENDS.

)!1

that he did not stay long enough. Had he remained suffi-
ciently long, he would have seen unhea d-of wonders. The
young ladies were inspired with a longing ;o see these won-
ders, but he was not very ready to gratify them. They were
allowed to look in, however ; and the one he had chosen for
his wife was informed that he would allow her to go in and
see all the wonders of the magic show-box. She contrived
to meet him alone, and he allowed her to crawl into the bag;
he told her she must keep moving and not speak for a long
time. As soon as she was fairly inside the sack, he tossed
it over his shoulder and ran towards home. As she was
moving about all the time waiting and watching for the won-
ders that were to burst upon her sight, she was unaware that
the bag itself was on the move, and flying through the forest
as fast as Indian feet could fly. But her patience was at
length exhausted, and she called lustily to be set free. He
then quietly put down the bag, and let out his captive.
Her wish to see and know the rare and curious was now
gratified ; but [like her mother Eve and many of her sisters
and brothers of all ages and races] her unlawful curiosity had
got her into a scrape from which there was no means of
extricating herself. She had now to submit to her lot; she
was lost, and had not the slightest idea of her whereabouts ;
of course it was impossible for her to return. She shed
tears, uttered some complaints, and thought how sad her
parents would be. They would suppose that she had been
drowned in the lake. But now she had no choice left but
to submit to her captor ; so she followed him home.

They soon came to the ancient town, which was one of the
curiosities he had promised to show her if she would enter
his magic sack. His promise was now fulfilled to the letter.
He showed her all the curiosities of the stone age, and they
passed on. When they reached the small town near his own,
they remained there several years. The people inquired his
name, and he said it was Upsaakiimoode (hand-bag).

After the lapse of years he went home to his father. His

UPSAAKUMOODE.

437

brother did not recognize him. He inquired, "Who are
you? " It is I," he answered, and was now recognized. The
woman was introduced as his wife, and the old people were
mightily pleased.

After a short time the young man died, and his brother
married his widow.

B ii

438

MICMAC INDIAN LEGENDS.

LXXXIV.

THE FISHERS AND THE RACCOON.

11'"

'1 5

THERE was an old couple who had four children, two
boys and two girls ; they were of the Upkumk (Fisher)
tribe.

One day one of the boys asked his mother how many
people it would take to kill them all off. She replied that
it would not take many ; one man could kill them all. But
she informed him that they were safe against the attacks of
some tribes, — as, for instance, the Porcupines. "They can-
not kill us ; go and hunt them."

One day this young chap took it into his head to go away
on his own account. He had not travelled far when he met
a man with whom he entered into conversation. He was one
of the Amalchoogwech' (Raccoon) tribe. They agreed to
join their interests and hunt together. After proceeding a
short distance they came upon a stone wigwam, which they
entered and found empty; but they learned from its appear-
ance that it belonged to the Porcupine ^ tribe.

They now went forward, and before long came out to a
large town. It was near a river; they saw a great many
people dressed in beautiful black clothes, rich and costly,
who belonged to the Otter tribe.

They were received in a friendly manner, and offered to
remain and work for their living, if agreeable to all. The
Otters agreed to the proposal.^

Now, the Otter tribe is very moral and strictly honest.
The other Indians, such as the Bears, the Foxes, the Rac-

1 Porcupines love to burrow in the rocks.

2 Fisher cannot fish, and Raccoon's skill in that line is not great ; but one
can hunt on land, while the o^her hunts in the water.

THE FISHERS AND THE RACCOON.

439

coons, the Wild-cats, and the Squirrels, are all great thieves,
and commit depredations upon their neighbors; no one has
ever complained of the Otters. They never steal their neigh-
bors' geese or hens, or kill their sheep or cattle. In short,
it is a well-dressed, well-behaved tribe. Had the Otters
known of Don Raccoon's pranks, they would have demurred
in admitting him into partnership.

Fisher would not undertake to hunt, but showed that he
was very skilful in skinning and preparing the game; he was,
therefore, installer^ housekeeper and cook.

Away went the Otters into the river, and returned laden
with stores of all kinds of fish. While they were out of
sight, Raccoon went off in a different direction. The farmers
in the neighborhood were relieved of some of their poultry,
and these were added to the pile.

Meanwhile Fisher performed the business of skinning eels
with marvellous dexterity.^

The parties dwelt together for seven years, and then Fisher
proposed that he and Raccoon should return home. The
Otters were so well satisfied with their company that they
bestowed upon them, at parting, an ample supply of beauti-
ful clothing, — rich, black, soft, and glossy.

When they arrived at the spot where Fisher met Rac-
coon, the latter was told by his companion that he need not
go along farther; so he stopped, and Fisher went on. When
he reached home, he found his mother still living, but his
brothers and sisters had all been killed by one of the hostile
tribes. His mother was glad to see him, and he remained
and took care of her.

[Related by Nancy Jeddore, Oct. 19, 1871.]

1 These animals hunt porcupines, whose quills are not able to defend them.
Having secured their prey by the throat, plunging their noses right under the
belly of the porcupine, the Fisher rips the skin open along the belly, where
there are no quills, and then strips it clean off before beginning to eat. Hence,
in the allegorical Ahtookwokun, Don Fisher is represented as a capital hand at
dressing game.

440

MICMAC INDIA A' LEGENDS.

LXXXV.

THE KING'S DAUGHTER AND THE MAN-
SERVANT.

THERE was once a poor man whose family consisted
of two boys and three girls, besides himself and wife.
The father died, and the youngest son went away to seek his
fortune. He travelled on until he came to a royal city, and
introduced himself to one of the king's gnoms. He asked
for employment. The groom, seeing that ne appeared like
a smart fellow, engaged him for a while, and found that he
gave such good satisfaction that he kept him on for two
years. ^ At the expiration of this period the young man
began to aspire to higher distinction, and wished to be
taken into the king's household; he easily prevailed upon
the groom to intercede for him. The king was informed
respecting the matter, and appointed the day and hour for
an interview.

" Let him come and see me," said he, " to-morrow at such
an hour." At the appointed time our hero was on hand,
and as soon as the king saw him he recognized his clever-
ness, and saw that there was something above his station in
his bearing. Grasping his hand, he bade him welcome, and
inquired into his parentage and place of residence. The
young man informed him that his father's brother was a
king, that his father had died when he was small, and that
his mother had been defrauded of her husband's estate,
and reduced to poverty; so he had grown up in want and
neglect. The king believed his story, and made inquiries of

' He remained two years with the groom, and then served seven years with
the icing.

.1^

THE KINCS DAUGHTER AND THE MAN-SERVANT.

441

the keeper of the royal stables respecting the young man's
demeanor, and was pleased to learn that it was in every
respect unexceptional. He therefore engaged the youth as
coachman and as one of his body-serv-iuis. The young man
was thus employed for seven years, during which time he was
diligent at his work, and used all his leisure and opportuni-
ties for improving his mind. He had agreed at first that
at the end of seven years, if his services were not satisfac-
tory, the contract should be broken. The king was greatly
pleased with the young man, and was convinced of the
truth of his story ; he liked him better than any of the rest
of his servants, for he was diligent, trustworthy, and pious.

Now the king had two children, a boy and a girl. The
princess, from the first, conceived a strong affection for the
young coachman. From her chamber window she used to
watch him while at his work, and he often drove the coach
in which she and her brother rode out; she took care to
bestow upon her dignified but obsequious servant gentle
words and gracious looks. One day, lingering behind after
the coach had returned to the palace and her brother had
left, she openly confessed her passion, and asked the youth
to marry her. She herself, she said, would intercede
with the king for the favor. He objected, saying, " I am
poor; your father will never consent to the match, and
your application can only end in defeat and danger to us
both." But she was not to be baffled. " What if you are
poor," she answered, " you are of royal descent, noble in
your behavior and mien, and riches are easily acquired."
He was captivated by her charms and conquered by her
arguments, and they agreed that she should broach :he
subject to the king, her father, and ask his consent.

She did so, and was at first repulsed. She argued that
his poverty need be no objection, since that could easily
be removed. The king loved his daughter; and his afifection
for her and also for the young man, whom he believed to be
of royal descent, prevailed over all objections, and the nup-

442

MICMAC INDIAN LEGENDS.

¥?>

tials were decided on. He called the young man, promised
to load him with honors and riches, and appointed the day
for the wedding.

Meanwhile the news of the approaching wedding spread
over the city. The humble condition of the expected bride-
groom was kept secret. It was given out that he was a
prince from a distant city. At the appointed time the mar-
riage was celebrated with great splendor. Guns were fired,
trumpets sounded, and bells rung. At the palace all was
festivity and mirth ; crowds pressed round to catch a glimpse
of the happy pair, and all went merry as a marriage-bell.
After this he returned to his own place, and found his
mother still living, and their relatives all scattered, earning
their livelihood by manual labor. He took his mother home
with him to his palace, and provided for her in an honorable
way till her death.

[How like some of our own legends ! Is it not really one
of our own? In the hands of Tennyson what a splendid
poem it would make ! He could begin with the misfortunes
of the young count, could paint in brilliant colors the pro-
gress of events, and introduce a splendid denouement of
the plot.

Related, Nov. i6, 1871, by Nancy Jeddore, who, as she
says, heard it from her mother, who had a large store of
legends.]

USKOOS' AND ARUKCHEECn.

443

LXXXVI.

tJSKOOS' AND ABUKCHEECH
(WEASEL AND MOUSE).

THERE was once a large Indian town on the borders of a
lake, and out some distance in the lake there was a
large island.

In this town resided a widow who had three children, two
boys and one girl. The names of the boys were Uskoos'
and Abukcheech (Weasel and Mouse). Weasel was the
elder. The family were very poor, and the cause of their
poverty was that they were too lazy to work for a livelihood ;
they lived by plunder.^ The two boys did the principal part
of the plundering; they always lay by in the daytime, and
strolled out at night for their depredations, thus escaping
detection. As these fellows were never seen at work, it
became a matter of wonder to their neighbors how they lived.
It was agreed to examine into the matter, and to sec if the
robbers, whose depredations were beginning to be felt quite
seriously, could be detected. So a party of young men, at
the chiefs suggestion, paid the family a visit one evening.
They found the mother and sister bustling about, but the two
boys were asleep. They slept the whole evening, until their
visitors had gone home; then they slipped out to their
pranks.

One day the chief summoned them before him, and sub-
mitted them to a cross-examination. " What work do you

1 The squirrel collects nuts for himself, and hoards up for winter, but weasels
and mice never do ; they are great thieves.

444

MICMAC INDIAN LEGENDS.

■.\

(■;■ .

i :

vnk. \<.

m\ ||;

Wt M%-

Wm-'

K-; "

^Sh

follow," said he, "and how do you get your living?" They
said that they were honest and industrious Indians, and that
they hunted to obtain their food and clothing, as other good
men did. So they were dismissed ; but the chief sent a
party to watch them, and while they were being watched,
they, in turn, watched the watchers. They would slyly peep
forth from their hiding-places, and if the coast was not clear
they would slip back and hide. Thus they managed to elude
the vigilance of their enemies, whom they finally determined
to avenge by an onslaught on a large scale. They went
out and mustered all the weasels and mice of the surround-
ing region, and plundered the whole town. All the meat in
the town was carried off in the course of a few nights, and
all the clothing and skins were gnawed and spoiled. This
was beyond endurance; and the chief summoned his council,
and all agreed to remove over to the island. This was done ;
but our heroes remained behind.

After the rest had gone, they had full sway and plenty to
eat. They walked boldly about in the daytime, and were
observed from the island. An exploring-party was sent over
to inquire into matters, and they found the two robbers in
possession of the place, and revelling in plenty. The
explorers were accosted in a friendly manner, and treated with
all becoming respect. " Are you not troubled with mice
and weasels?" they asked. "Oh, not in the least," was the
answer; " they have all disappeared from the place." Learn-
ing the condition of things, the chief and all hands agreed to
return, as their wigwams were all there, ready to be inhabited.

For a while they were unmolested. The two thieves had
plenty, and they waited until the others had brought in their
supplies, and their own were nearly exhausted, before they
commenced operations again. The chief suspected there
were necromancers among them ; but others thought the
rogues, whoever they were, must be something worse than
necromancers, even evil spirits, they were so sly and destruc-
tive. The chief called the two chaps. Weasel and Mouse,

WW,-

OSA'OOS AND ABUKCIfEECir

445

and consulted them. They offered to rid the ncifjhborhood
of the thieves, provided they were well rewarded. " What
reward do you demand? " the chief asked. " That your eldest
son shall receive our sister in marriage," was the reply. To
this the old sachem would not consent, and so the trouble
continued on a larger scale, for our heroes again called in
the aid of their fellow Weasels and Mice of the surrounding
region. This brought the chief to terms, and the young man
took home his bride. The two boys now told their mother
that they would not steal any more from the old chief be-
cause he was providing for their sister. They succeeded, too,
according to agreement, in defending the place for some
time, their neighbors never venturing over except by special
invitation. Hut after a while the trouble broke out afresh,
and the two brothers, who had proved themselves before so
clever in protecting the property of their neighbors, were
again appealed to. The reward demanded this time was that
their mother should be provided for, and supplied with food
and clothing. To this the chief agreed, and the thieving
stopped. The old lady was removed to her new abode, and
the sons told her that they were going away to seek their
fortunes, and would not return for three years. A scheme,
proposed by the elder brother Weasel, had been concerted
between them to go to the place where the white king resided
and rob him.

So bidding their mother and sister farewell, they started,
and after travelling awhile came to a broad, beautiful
valley, through which flowed two large rivers, and where they
found an Indian village. There they inquired how far it was
from the city where the king lived. They were told that
it was very far off, but that they would come to another town
before they reached it. So on they went, and arriving at
the town they asked for employment. They were introduced
to the chief, and he wished to know what they could do.
They said that they could do almost anything, but they
were special adepts in obtaining and bringing away booty.

446

MICMAC INDIAN LEGENDS.

JW ■

lie employed them, and they plied their trade steadily for a
year, when they were paid off, and went on. They were
determined to get an introduction to the king and rob him.

They travelled on a whole week before they reached the
city. They could not enter it without leave from the king, as
he was jealous of strangers. He was afraid of robbers. They
accordingly sent up word that they wished to see the king.
They said that their father was originally from this place, and
that he died while they were children ; they had come to visit
the old place, and, if possible, get employment and remain.

In due time they had an interview with the king; he
inquired what business they followed. Weasel said that he
was a blacksmith by trade, and Mouse said that he could
board and shingle houses. There happened to be plenty of
\vork in these two departments, and they were soon installed
in their new occupations. In the mean time they waited for
night and darkness, in order to begin their more congenial
employment , they executed their plans to rob the king.
Being men in the day time, they could be Mouse and Weasel
both in shape and nature at night. The Mouse cut through
into the king's apartments, where the money and other valu-
ables were. The Weasel stepped in through the hole and
carried off the prey. Small and sly and slippery as he was,
he was very strong.' He carried all out; they carefully
closed the hole, and then returned to their home. They told
their mother that the king had made them a present of all
this. This ends the story.

[Related by Nancy Jcddore, Feb. 19, 1872.]

1 This is true of the weasel. " One of them," says Nancy, " ca 1 almost drag
a rabbit."

THE T./KEli AVAGS.

447

LXXXVII.
THE THREE KINGS.

AWAY very far from other luin.nn habitations on the
borders of the sea, dwelt two Indian fanulies. One
son and three sisters younger than lie, besides the two
parents, constituted one of these families. The others con-
sisted of the two old people who had no children. They
were all poor. They did not know that there were any other
Indians ; but the father of the four children knew that, far
away to the southwest, there was a large city where three
kings resided and ruled.

One day after his son had grown to manhood, he told him
to go in search of this city and beg of the king some assist-
ance. " Ask him," said he, " for some seed, that we may till
the land and raise the means of living. The ground here is
fertile, and would make an excellent garden had we but seeds
to plant. Ask him to give you instructions how to plant and
cultivate the different kinds of seeds ; his servants will give
you all the necessary information."

The young man immediately prepared to execute his
father's orders, and started on the expedition. lie vas
charged to make all possible despatch and not to stay. He
started according to instructions, and travelled towards the
southwest, and was one whole year in reaching the place.

He had one memorable adventure on his way. He came
out to a large pasture full of all kinds of animals, wild and
tame, and was alarmed lest they should attack and kill him.
So he stepped back into the woods, and started to go round
them. He soon heard a voice calling to him, but he could
see no one; the voice told him not to be afraid, as the

448

MICMAC INDIAN LEGENDS.

animals were all under his control, and would not touch
him; but first he was questioned as to who he was and what
he wanted. He then resumed his course across the field,
and through the midst of the herd unmolested.

In due time he arrived at the city. It was large and
beautifully built, and astonished the stranger by its magnifi-
cence. He entered a house of humble appearance and made
inquiries. He was questioned in turn. " Where have you
come from? What is your errand?" "I came," he re-
plied, " from a distant place, and I wish to see the king, in
order to obtain assistance from him to enable us to support
ourselves by cultivating the land." His host informed him
that it was as his father had told him, — there were in the
city three kings ; that this arrangement had been established
when the city was first built, and had been adhered to ever
since. He told him where the residence of the kings was.
He went over to it, and the porter examined him, and, after
being satisfied that he was all right, went and spoke to the
king in the stranger's behalf. The king fixed a time when
he could be seen; and when that time arrived, our friend was
on hand. He knelt before the king, who extended to him
his right hand, which he kissed. He then made known his
errand. The king left him, but promised to be back in an
hour. When he returned, one of the other kings came with
him. They gave him money and several kinds of seeds, seven
of each kind. He was to plant each kind by itself; they told
him he must be careful not to pluck the fruit before it was
perfectly ripe ; then they would realize seven bushels to
every seed. This would be sufficient to seed the whole
region. He must be liberal with it. Those who were able
might buy it, but such as were poor must receive it gratis.
The kings invited him to remain there for a season with
them, but he declined their invitation, as his father had
charged him to return immediately. So they dismissed him,
but informed him that there was a much shorter way home
than that by which he came. Upon this route they put him,
and in one week he was at home.

THE THREE KINGS.

449

When spring opened, they prepared the ground and
plaiited their seeds, which came up and grew with wonder-
ful rapidity.

Now it happened that the father was a very reHgious man ;
he was strict and regular in his devotions, and prayed a
great deal. He chose, as a place of prayer, the field whcie
the crop was growing, which he made it his business to
watch. Every day he resorted thither carrying his prayer-
book, in which he read morning, noon, and night. The crop
grew so rapidly and spread so wonderfully that he could
almost see it grow.

One day a voice addressed him, — but he could not see the
speaker, — admoniching him that a jealous enemy was medi-
tating mischief, and would seek to destroy his garden, with
all that pertained to it ; but if he persevered seven days in
prayer, the design would be frustrated. " Is this your gar-
den?" said the voice. He answered, " No, it belongs to my
son; I am simply here watchi'ig it." When he returned
home, he informed the family what he had heard ; it was
concluded that an angel had spoken to him, and that the
enemy referred to was the devil. The old man doubled his
diligence in his devotions for seven days ; and the foe, who-
ever he was, was kept at bay.

When autumn came, and the crops had ripened, it was
found just as the generous king foretold; each seed had
produced seven bushels. This was carefully gathered and
disposed of according to the directions received. There was
enough to supply the neighbors as well as themselves with
seed, and plenty besides to be used as food.

Soon after this the old man died, and they buried him.
The son felt sad, and thought the mother would soon follow;
he told his sisters so, but they thought differently. One day
he was gone so long that they became alarmed, and one of
the girls went to look for him; she found him dead. Here
the tale ends abruptly.

(SO

plf

MEMORANDA.

OOTABAKUNASKOOK.

THIS is a kind of sledge, made flat and wide, of several
pieces bent over, like the iron of a pair of skates, at
the forward end. The several pieces of which it is composed
are about three or four inches wide and half an inch thick,
and sometimes ten feet long. No nails are used in its con-
struction, but it is fastened together with green hide strings.
Several pieces of wood are laid across, and holes are pierced
through the slats ; these cross bars are tied down firmly,
the string on the outside being sunk into a groove to keep
it from catching and wearing off. Rock-maple or beech is
preferred as the material for the construction. A small
round stick runs along on the top lengthwise, on each side,
to which the load is bound. The whole forms a light, con-
venient, yielding, yet strong sledge for conveyance through
the woods. Such sledges are especially adapted for hunting
on snow-shoes, as they readily yield to the uneven surface,
slipping over the snow and windfalls ; and even if they cap-
size, they sustain no injury, — the load, being bound on, can
be readily righted. This was t^e tobakun of olden times.

COOKUMIJENAWANAK'.

Name of a place; signification, the Grandmother's Place.
There are two places in Nova Scotia called by this name.
One is at the outlet of the Grand Lake into the Shubenacadia
River. Right in the middle of the nver there is a rock a

452

MEMORANDA.

little more than a foot above the surface, and sufficiently
large for two persons to stand upon and fish. It is looked
upon as a very lucky place to fish. The Indians think it
was made there for them. They think a great deal of it,
and would be sorry to have it removed.

THE END.

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