Part 6

Now ’twas the time for holding The great and yearly feast With dancing and merry games; But Kulóskap cared not to go As guest or as performer. However, he asked his uncle, “Wilt thou not go to the feast? All the fair girls of the forest, All the beautiful matrons, All the bewitching widows From far and wide will be there; Why hast thou never married? There are many nice women a-waiting, ’Tis evil living alone.”

Thus answered Uncle Turtle: “I am poor and old and homely, With no garments fit for a feast; Therefore ’tis better for me To smoke my pipe at home.”

“Well, if that be the only hindrance, Uncle,” replied the Master, “I can turn tailor I trow, And fit you to a turn-- Fit you as if by magic, Or in fact by magic itself; Therefore have thou no care As to your face or outside, For to him who hath the art ’Tis as easy to make a man over As any suit of clothes.”

“That may be true, my nephew,” Quoth Turtle, “but what say you, As to the making over The _inside_ of a mortal?”

“By Kwâbît the immortal Beaver!” Replied the Master, laughing, “That is something harder to do, Else I were not at work So long in this world of ours. Yet, ere I leave this town For you I will do that also. As for this present sport, Do but put on this belt.”

And when he wore the girdle Mikchik became so young And so bewitchingly handsome That never a man or woman In the land had seen the like; And as the Master arrayed him In garments of great splendor, He also gave him his word That, as a man, he ever Should be of men the comeliest, And as animal, hardest to kill, Most vital and enduring, As it truly came to pass. So Mikchik went to the feast.

Now the chieftain of the Piktook Had three very beautiful daughters, And of the three, the youngest Was the loveliest in the land. On her the old-young turtle Cast his experienced eyes With a boy-like, innocent look, And said, “I think that damsel Would exactly suit my complaint, And therefore I think I will take her!”

Now all the young men in Piktook Were of just the same opinion, And all were firmly resolved To kill the one who should win her.

So the next day the Master, Taking a bunch of _wâbab_, That is, of the finest wampum, Went to the chief of the Piktook Proposing that his uncle Should marry the youngest daughter. And truly the chief was willing, While the mother at once cried, “Yes!” To such a grand proposal; So, without loss of time, The maiden swept out a wigwam, And made a bed of sprays, Or of leaves, upon the floor, Spreading out a great white bear skin As a cover over all. Then with Mikchik and the Master They had dried meat for supper, And so the pair were wed.

Now the Turtle seemed very lazy, And for days after they were married While other men were hunting He lounged about at home Smoking over the fire, Till one frosty, sunny morning, His wife said to him, “Mikchik, If this goes on much longer We two must certainly starve.” So he put on his snow-shoes, Taking his bow and arrows, And she followed silently after To see what he would do. But in truth he did very little, For he had not gone far forward Ere he tripped and fell rolling over. And the wife, returning disgusted, Said in a rage to her mother: “He is not in the least a hunter. He can’t even walk on snow-shoes.” But the mother said: “Be patient, There is more in him than you dream.”

One day it came to pass That the Master said to Mikchik “To-morrow will be held The very great yearly ball-play And you must share in the game. It will be sore for you, A game of life and death, For all the young men who live here Are your enemies, and will seek To slay you in the rush By crowding close together, And trampling you under foot. But when they do this, ’twill be Close by the Sagamore’s lodge, And that you may escape them I give you, Uncle, the power To jump twice over the roof; But if they chance to bring it To a third attempt, ’twill be A very terrible thing for you, And yet it _must_ come to pass; ‘No honey without a sting; No chase, no venison.’”

And all of it came to pass As the Master had foretold; For the young men of the village All joined to kill the Turtle, And to escape them, Mikchik Jumped, when beset, so high Over the Sagamore’s lodge That he looked like an eagle flying. But when for a third time he Attempted another leap, His scalp-lock caught on a pole, And there he hung a-dangling In the smoke which rose from below.

Then Kulóskap, who was sitting On a skin in the tent beneath, Said: “Uncle the hour is come, Now will I make thee Sagem, Grand Sagamore of the Tortoise, The chief of the Lenni Lenâbe; Thou shalt bear up a great nation Which shall rest upon thy shell!”

Then he smoked Mikchik so long That his skin became a shell, A very hard round shell, And the marks of the smoke from the pipe May be seen thereon to-day. And of all his entrails he left But _one_ which was very short, And then indeed Mikchik Seeing himself so reduced Cried out, “Beloved nephew, You will kill me certainly!” But the Lord replied, “Far from it, I am giving you longer life-- A longer life than is given To any other on earth; From this time forth, my uncle, You may pass through a glowing fire, And never feel its breath, You may live on land or in water, Nay, though your head be cut off It will live for nine days after, And even so long shall beat Your heart when cut from your body.” Whereat Mikchik rejoiced.

And this came, indeed, betimes, And not before it was needed; For on the very next day All of the men went hunting, And the Master warned the Turtle That they would attempt his life. So the men all went before, While the Turtle toiled slowly behind them; But when they saw him no more, He made a magic flight Far over their heads, and deep In the forest he slew a moose, He drew it upon the track Which he knew that they soon must take; And when his foes came up, There he sat on the moose Smoking, and waiting for them.

Now Kulóskap the Wise Had unto them foretold That on that day they would see Some one come out as first Who they thought would be last of all. And when this came to pass, They were more enraged than before, And so they planned again To kill Mikchik, but his nephew Who was on the point of leaving The village and all therein, Told him how it would be.

“First of all, my uncle, They will build a mighty fire, And throw you into the flame, But endure it, and with joy; For by my magic power I will see that it does no harm. Only beg as a dying favor Not to be cast into water, Into the water to drown, Beg and implore and entreat them To spare thee that terrible torture, Yes, fight to the bitter end; So will they certainly do it, And so it shall come to pass.” Then he bade farewell to the Turtle, And they built up a blazing fire And threw him at once into it; Wherein, being very lazy, He turned over and went to sleep, And when the fire burned low He called for more wood to rebuild it Because it was bitterly cold.

Then they all called out, “Let us drown him!” But hearing this, as in terror He implored them not to do it. “Cut me to pieces,” he said, “Burn me again, or stab me, But do not, I beg you, throw me Into the water to drown!”

Therefore they swore they would drown him, And dragged him down to the shore; He screamed like a mad magician, And fought like a wolverine, Tearing up trees and roots, Rending the rocks like a tempest; Yet at length they overpowered him, And took him in a canoe To the middle of the lake And throwing him in they watched him, Watched him as he was sinking Till he vanished far down below; And thinking him surely dead Returned to their homes rejoicing.

Now on the next day at noon There was a glowing sunshine, And something was seen basking Upon a great flat rock About a mile from the shore. So two of the younger men Took a canoe and went forth To see what this might be. And when they came to the rock Just hanging over the water, Whom should they see but Mikchik A-dozing in the sunlight! But, seeing them coming to take him, He only said “Good-bye!” And rolled over into the lake Wherein it is said he is living Unto this very day. So in memory of this thing, All turtles in swamps or rivers When they see a man a-coming Tip-tilt them into the water With a _plump!_ which means “Good-bye!”-- Or which sounds like it in Indian[29]-- As their ancestor did of yore.

The Turtle lived with his wife Happily, long and contented. Then it happened in after years That Kulóskap came one day To visit his uncle, and saw A babe which uttered a word. As ’twere in a childish cry: “Knowest thou what he is saying?” Inquired the Master smiling. “Truly not I,” said Mikchik, “For I deem it is in the language Which is spoken by the demons Or spirits of the air, Which ’tis said no mortal knoweth.” “Well, I think,” replied Kulóskap, “That he is talking of eggs For he cries ‘_Huwâh, Huwâh_’ As if he were trying to say _Wâhwun_--which means an egg In the Passamaquoddy tongue.” “But where are eggs to be found?” Inquired the uncle amazed. “Seek in the sand,” said the Master, Where he sought and found full many And greatly he marvelled at them. In memory of which and the Master, All the female turtles Lay eggs to this very day. L.

FOOTNOTES:

[27] When the Master left Newfoundland he came to Pictou.

[28] It is usual to give as a mere matter of politeness terms of consanguinity to persons in conversation. Mikchik the Turtle appears in all the legends as a perfect Panurge or Falstaff, a worthless old scamp, who is nevertheless liked by everybody and privileged. P.

[29] It is curious that in Italy a stone thrown into water is supposed by the sound which it makes to answer Yes or No to questions.

V

HOW MIKCHIK THE TURTLE WAS FALSE TO THE MASTER

[_Passamaquoddy_]

_Kulóskap meiawet._[30]

Kulóskap the Master Was lord of beasts and men Even the one as the other He ruled them one and all. Great indeed was his army His tribe indeed was the whole. In it the Golden Eagle Was a leading chief who married A female Caribou; And the Turtle, Kulóskap’s uncle, Married the only daughter Of the Eagle and Caribou. Of these things are many traditions, Many and very long, Which are told by the fire in winter; Old people knew these stories, The younger now forget them And the wisdom in them all.

It is said that Mikchik the Turtle Was ever loved by his nephew, While another tradition tells That he was false to the Master: I know not how it may be, I can only tell the story As it was told to me.

When the Turtle married, The Master bade him make A splendid feast, and for this He gave him wonderful power. Then he bade him go down to a point Of very great rocks by the sea Where whales were always found, And told him to bring a whale, And gave him the might to do so. But he set an appointed mark Or space, and said that he must not Go even an inch beyond it: So the Turtle went down to the sea, And caught a monstrous whale, And bore it up to the camp; It all seemed very easy, But he quite forgot that the power Was given him by the Master; So he took it all as his own.

Like all men of his kind He was very vain and curious. So to see what would come of it He went beyond the mark While carrying the whale, And doing this he lost The strength on him bestowed; And sank beneath his burden Crushed by the mighty whale.

Then many ran to the Master Saying that Turtle was dead, But he answered “Cut up the whale For the dead will soon revive.” So they cut it up and cooked it; And when the feast was ready, The Turtle came yawning on, And stretching out his leg Cried out: “How tired I am! Truly, I think I must Have overslept myself!” Then all men feared the Lord, For now they knew him a spirit, A spirit of terrible power.

However it came to pass That the Turtle grew mightily All in his own conceit, And thought he could take the place Of the Master and reign in his stead; So he called together a council Of all the beasts, to find How Kulóskap might be slain. Greatly the Great One laughed When he had learned all this And little did he care.

And knowing all that passed In their evil hearts, he went Disguised as an agèd squaw Into the Council Lodge. There were two witches there, The Porcupine and Toad, Bearing the human form; Of them he humbly asked How the Master was to die, And to him the Toad replied, “Well! What is that to thee? And what hast thou to do With such a thing as this?” “Truly I meant no harm,” Was all the Master said. And then he softly touched The tip of either’s nose. And rising, went his way. But when the witches looked At one another--both Screamed out in dire dismay For neither had a nose! Their faces were smooth and flat; So it came that the Porcupine And Toad, are to this day Noseless among the beasts. So the Council came to an end. L.

FOOTNOTES:

[30] Kulóskap the Master.

VI

HOW KULÓSKAP CONQUERED AKLIBIMO, THE GREAT BULLFROG

[_Passamaquoddy_]

_Piʾchce uskichinwi otenesis Pakichiotote pemtanikek._[31]

Long, long ago, Far, far away in the mountains An Indian village stood, Little known to other men; All lived therein at their ease, The men did well in their hunting The women worked at home, And all went well--save in _one_ thing And that one thing was this: That the town lay by a brook And except in the stream there was not A single drop of water In all the country round Save in the puddles of rain. No one of all these Indians Had ever found a spring, Yet they all were very fond Of a drink of good, clear water And that in their brook was good. So over it they grew dainty And were very proud of it.

But after a time they saw That the brook was running low, Not only in summer time, But in autumn after the rains; And as the water fell Their spirits, too, sank low; But day by day it grew less, Until its bed was as dry As a dead bone is, which lies In the ashes of a fire.

Now they had sometime heard That, far away in the hills Where none of them had been, There was another village Upon this very stream; But what kind of people dwelt Therein, no one could say; So, thinking that these folk Knew something about the drought, They sent a man to look Into the thing. Three days Onward and upward he went, Till on the third he came Unto the village where He found a solid dam Built over the rivulet So that no water could pass, But all was kept in a pond.

Then, asking the village folk Why they had done this evil, Since ’twas of no use to them, They said: “Go ask our chief, It was he who ordered it.”

And when the messenger came To see the Sagamore, Behold, there lay before him, Lazily in the mud, A creature who was more Of monster than of man-- Though truly in human form-- For he was immense in size, In measure like a giant, Fat, bloated, at all points Most brutal to behold; His great, round, yellow eyes Stuck from his head as knots Or knobsticks from a pine. His mouth with stringy lips Went well from ear to ear; His feet were broad and flat, With toes immensely long-- He was marvellous to behold!

And unto him the man Set forth his just complaint, To which the brute at first Made no reply beyond A most uncivil grunt And a croak, but he said at last In a loud, bellowing voice, Such as we sometimes hear At night from pond or pool: “Do as you choose, “Do as you choose, “Do as you choose! “What do I care? “What do I care? “What do I care? “If you want water, “If you want water, “If you want water, “Go somewhere else.”

Then the messenger told How his people were pining Near dead of their thirst, Which seemed hugely to please The monster, who grinned for joy, Till at last he rose to his feet. And, making a single spring Of many rods to the dam, Took an arrow and bored a hole So that a little water Just trickled out, and then cried: “Up and begone, “Up and begone, “Up and begone!” Then the messenger returned In sorrow to his people, Bringing them little joy, And for a very few days There was a little water, Then it stopped and they suffered again.

Now these good Indians, who Were the honestest fellows alive, Best natured in all the world, And never harmed any one Except their enemies, Were in a pickle indeed; For sad it is to have Nothing but water to drink; But to want even that When one is raging with thirst Is worse than waiting for dinner When we have no dinner to wait for. Now this the Lord Kulóskap, Who was merciful in heart And knew all that was passing In the hearts of his Indian children, Observed, and pitying them Came to them all at once; For he ever came as the wind And no man e’er wist how.

Now, just before he came, These honest Indians Had in a council resolved To send their boldest man Though ’twere to certain death, Even unto the village Where dwelt the evil chief Who built the cursèd dam Which kept the water with which They slaked their thirst when they Could get it--that is to say, Whenever the water was running. And when he got there, the brave Was either to obtain That the water-dam be cut, Or, failing, do something desperate-- They knew not exactly what; But it was expected by all That if he were refused He would paint the village with care Of a deep vermilion hue, Leaving on every lodge Blood, and in this intent, Should, armed at every point, Go with his tomahawk, His axe and scalping-knife Singing his death-song, too, As he went on his way; And they were all agog.

Now the Master was greatly pleased When he observed all this, For nothing delighted him more Than plucky, desperate deeds; So he resolved that he Would see to this thing himself.

Therefore he came to them-- The people of the town Which was then so high and dry-- Looking so terribly fierce That in all the land there was none Who was half so horrible; For he seemed to be ten feet high, With a hundred wonderful plumes, Feathers of red and black, From his scalp-lock uprising; His face fresh-painted like blood, Green rings around his eyes, While a very large clam-shell hung From either ear, and behind, A great spread eagle, which Was awful to behold, Flapped wings at every step; So that the hearts of all Beat as he entered the village, For as simple Indians, they Accounted that this must be Either Lox, the Wolverine, Or Michihant the Devil Himself in person, who Had turned to Indian form. And the squaws declared that they Had ne’er seen aught so fine, Such a lovely, lovable man!

Then the Master having heard The whole of their terrible tale, Bade them cheer up, for he Would soon set all to rights. So without delay he went Straight up the bed of the brook, And coming to the town Sat down, and bade a boy Bring him some water to drink; To which the boy replied That not a drop could be had In that town unless ’twere given Out by the chief himself.

“Then go to your Sagamore,” Said the Master, “and bid him hurry, Or verily I will know The reason why I wait.” And when the boy had gone There was no reply before An hour, when the boy returned, During which time the Master Sat on a log and smoked. Then at last the messenger Came with a little cup Which was only just half full Of water, extremely foul. Then the Master rose and said: “Now I will go to your chief, And I think that he soon will give Far better water than this!”

And having come to the chief He said, “Now give me to drink And that of the best, at once, Thou villainous Thing of Mud!”

Then the Sagamore in a rage Bellowed: “Begone and find Thy water where thou canst;” When Kulóskap thrust his spear At once into the beast, Into his belly, lo! Gushed forth a mighty stream, For it was all the water Which should have run in the brook-- He had taken it all to himself!

Then the Master, rising high As any giant pine, Caught the monster in his hand, And crumpled in his back With a mighty grip--and lo! It was the Bull-Frog! Then He hurled him with contempt Into the stream to follow The current ever on.

And ever since that time The Bull-Frog’s back has borne Those crumpled wrinkles which Are in the lower part: These are the print-marks made By the Master’s awful squeeze.

Kulóskap then returned Unto the town, but there Found not a living soul, For a marvellous thing had come To pass while he was gone; A thing which shall be heard In every Indian’s speech Through all the ages, as ’Tis told by all to-day.

For as these people were, As I said, good simple folk, They had talked together, just As boys do at their play, When they are hungry, thus: “What would you like to have?” When another will reply: “Truly, I’d like to eat A good hot venison steak, With maple sugar and bear’s oil;” “Nay, give me for my part Some succotash and honey.” Even so these villagers said: “Suppose you really had All the cold sparkling water There is in the world, what then Would you do with it?” One replied, “I would live in the soft smooth mud, And always be wet and cool.”

To which another said, That he would plunge from the rocks And dive in the deep cold stream, Aye drinking as he dived.

And the third said: “I would be washed Up and down with the rippling waves, Living at will on land, Or in the water;” Then The fourth said: “None of you Know how to wish, and I Will teach you how. I’d live In water all the time. And forever swim in it!”