the higher world, and was received on the turtle. While she was in the
distress of travail, one of the infants in her womb was moved by an
evil desire, and determined to pass out under the side of the parent's
arm, and the other infant endeavored in vain to prevent his design.
They entered the dark world by compulsion, and their mother expired in
a few minutes. One of them possessed a gentle disposition, and was
named Enigorio, the Good Mind. The other possessed an insolence of
character, and was called Enigonhahetgea; that is, the Bad Mind. The
Good Mind was not content to remain in a dark situation, and was
desirous to create a great light in the dark world; but the Bad Mind
was desirous that the world should remain in its original state. The
Good Mind, determined to prosecute his design, began the work of
creation. Of his mother's head he made the sun, of her body the moon.
After he had made creeks and rivers, animals and fishes, he formed two
images of the dust of the ground in his own likeness, male and female,
and by his breathing into their nostrils he gave them living souls, and
named them _ea gwe howe_, that is a real people; and he gave the
Great Island all the animals--of game for the inheritance of the
people.... The Bad Mind, while his brother was making the universe,
went through the island, and made numerous high mountains and falls of
water and great steeps, and also created reptiles which would be
injurious to mankind; but the Good Mind restored the island to its
former condition. The Bad Mind made two images of clay in the form of
mankind, but while he was giving them existence they became
_apes_. The Good Mind discovered his brother's contrivances, and
aided in giving them living souls.
Finding that his brother continually thwarted him, the Good Mind
admonished him to behave better. The Bad Mind then offered a challenge
to his brother, on condition that the victor should rule the universe.
The Good Mind was willing. He falsely mentioned that whipping with
flags [bulrushes] would destroy his _temporal_ life, and earnestly
solicited his brother to observe the instrument of death, saying that
by using deer-horns he would expire. [This is very obscure in Cusick's
Indian-English.] On the day appointed the battle began; it lasted for
two days; they tore up the trees and mountains; at last the Good Mind
gained the victory by using the horns. The last words uttered by the
Bad Mind were that he would have equal power over the souls of mankind
after their death, and so sank down to eternal doom and became the Evil
Spirit."
Contrasted with this hardly heathen cosmogony, which shows recent Bible
influence throughout, the Algonquin narrative reads like a song from
the Edda. That the latter is the original and the older there can be no
doubt. Between the "Good Mind," making man "from the dust of the
earth," and Glooskap, rousing him by magic arrows from the ash-tree,
there is a great difference. It may be observed that the fight with
horns is explained in another legend in this book, called the Chenoo,
and that these horns are the magic horns of the Chepitch calm, or Great
Serpent, who is somewhat like the dragon.
In the Algonquin story, two Loons are Glooskap's "tale-bearers," which
occasion him great anxiety by their prolonged absences. This is
distinctly stated in the Indian legend, as it is of Odin's birds in the
Edda. Odin has, as news-bringers, two ravens.
"Hugin and Munin
Fly each day
over the spacious earth.
I fear for Hugin
that he comes not back,
yet more anxious am I
for Munin."
The Loons, indeed, occasioned Glooskap so much trouble by absences that
he took wolves in their place. The ravens of the Edda are probably of
biblical origin. But it is a most extraordinary coincidence that the
Indians have a corresponding perversion of Scripture, for they say that
Glooskap, when he was in the ark, that is as Noah, sent out a white
dove, which returned to him colored black, and became a raven. This is
not, however, related as part of the myth.
The Ancient History of the Six Nations, by David Cusick, gives us in
one particular a strange coincidence with the Edda. It tells us that
the Bad Mind, the principle of Evil, forced himself out into life, as
Cusick expresses it in his broken Indian-English, "under the side of
the parent's arm;" that is, through the armpit. In the Edda
(Vafthrudnismal, 33) we are told of the first beings born on earth that
they were twins, begotten by the two feet of a giant, and born out of
his armpit.
"Under the armpit grew,
't is said of the Hrimthurs,
a girl and boy together;
foot with foot begat,
of that wise Jotun,
a six-headed son."
There are in these six lines six coincidences with red Indian
mythology: (1.) The Evil principle as a Jotun's first-born in the one
and the Bad Mind in the other are born of the mother's armpit. (2.) In
one of the tales of Lox, the Indian devil, also a giant, we are told
that his feet are male and female. (3.) In both faiths this is the
first birth on earth. (4.) The six-headed demon appears in a Micmac
tale. (5.) There is in both the Eddaic and the Wabanaki account a very
remarkable coincidence in this: that there is a Titanic or giant birth
of twins on earth, followed by the creation of man from the ash-tree.
(6.) The Evil principle, whether it be the Wolf-Lox, in the Wabanaki
myths, or Loki in the Norse, often turns himself into a woman. Thus the
male and female sex of the first-born twins is identified.
According to the Edda, the order of births on earth was as follows:--
First, two giants were born from the mother's armpit.
Secondly, the dwarfs were created.
Thirdly, man was made from the ash-tree.
According to the Wabanaki, this was the order:--
First, two giants were born, _one_ from his mother's armpit.
Secondly, the dwarfs (Mikumwessuk) were created from the bark of the
ash-tree.
Thirdly, man was made from the _trunk_ of the ash.
The account of the creation of the dwarfs is wanting in the present
manuscript.
_Of the Great Deeds which Glooskap did for Men; how he named the
Animals, and who they were that formed his Family._
(Passamaquoddy.)
_Woodenit atbk-hagen Gloosekap_: [Footnote: Passamaquoddy.] this
is a story of Glooskap. It is told in traditions of the old time that
Glooskap was born in the land of the Wabanaki, which is nearest to the
sunrise; but another story says that he came over the sea in a great
stone canoe, and that this canoe was an island of granite covered with
trees. When the great man, of all men and beasts chief ruler, had come
down from this ark, he went among the Wabanaki. [Footnote: This part of
the legend is from a very singular and I may add almost unintelligible
manuscript, _Storey about Glooscap_, written in English by a
Passamaquoddy Indian. The word _ark_ which occurs in it reminds me
that the Indian from whom I obtained it once asked me if I did not
think that Glooskap was the same as Noah. This sentence is as follows
in the Indian-English of the original: "Gloosecap hat left from ark
come crosse even wiht wabnocelel."] And calling all the animals he gave
them each a name: unto the Bear, _mooin_; and asked him what he
would do if he should meet with a man. The Bear said, "I fear him, and
I should run." Now in those days the Squirrel (_mi-ko_) was
greater than the Bear. Then Glooskap took him in his hands, and
smoothing him down he grew smaller and smaller, till he became as we
see him now. In after-days the Squirrel was Glooskap's dog, and when he
so willed, grew large again and slew his enemies, however fierce they
might be. But this time, when asked what he would do should he meet
with a man, Mi-ko replied, "I should run up a tree."
Then the Moose, being questioned, answered, standing still and looking
down, "I should run through the woods." And so it was with Kwah-beet
the Beaver, [Footnote: This is very obscure in the original manuscript.
It reads "Herask beaber did do anything just look behager."] and
Glooskap saw that of all created beings the first and greatest was Man.
Before men were instructed by him, they lived in darkness; it was so
dark that they could not even see to slay their enemies. [Footnote:
This was read to me by an Indian from a wampum record, now kept at
Sebayk. I do not think I am mistaken in the phrase. It probably refers
to ignorance of warlike weapons.] Glooskap taught them how to hunt, and
to build huts and canoes and weirs for fish. Before he came they knew
not how to make weapons or nets. He the Great Master showed them the
hidden virtues of plants, roots, and barks, and pointed out to them
such vegetables as might be used for food, as well as what kinds of
animals, birds, and fish were to be eaten. And when this was done he
taught them the names of all the stars. He loved mankind, and wherever
he might be in the wilderness he was never very far from any of the
Indians. He dwelt in a lonely land, but whenever they sought him they
found him. [Footnote: This is from the Rand manuscript. The writer
remarks that these expressions were the very words of a Micmac Indian
named Stephen Flood, "who had no idea that he was using almost the
identical expressions of Holy Writ with reference to God."] He traveled
far and wide: there is no place in all the land of the Wabanaki where
he left not his name; hills, rocks and rivers, lakes and islands, bear
witness to him.
Glooskap was never married, yet as he lived like other men he lived not
alone. There dwelt with him an old woman, who kept his lodge; he called
her Noogumee, "my grandmother." (Micmac.) With her was a youth named
Abistariaooch, or the Martin. (M.) And Martin could change himself to a
baby or a little boy, a youth or a young man, as befitted the time in
which he was to act; for all things about Glooskap were very wonderful.
This Martin ate always from a small birch-bark dish, called
_witch-kwed-lakun-cheech_ (M.), and when he left this anywhere
Glooskap was sure to find it, and could tell from its appearance all that
had befallen his family. And Martin was called by Glooskap Uch-keen (M.),
"my younger brother." The Lord of men and beasts had a belt which gave
him magical power and endless strength. And when he lent this to
Martin, the younger brother could also do great deeds, such as were
only done in old times.
Martin lived much with the Mikumwess or Elves, or Fairies, and is said
to have been one of them.
_How Win-pe the Sorcerer, having stolen Glooskap's Family, was by him
pursued, and how, Glooskap for a Merry Jest cheated the Whale. Of the
Song of the Clams, and how the Whale smoked a Pipe._
(Micmac.)
_N'kah-ne-oo_. In old times (P.), in the beginning of things, men
were as animals and animals as men; how this was, no one knows. But it
is told that all were at first men, and as they gave themselves up to
this and that desire, and to naught else, they became beasts. But
before this came to pass, they could change to one or the other form;
yet even as men there was always something which showed what they were.
Now Glooskap lived on an island named Aja-lig-un-mechk, and with him
were many Indians with the names and natures of animals and birds.
These men, but most of all Pulowech, the Partridge, having acquired
power themselves, became jealous of Glooskap, and made up their minds
to depart when he was away, taking with them Martin and the
grandmother. For they had great hope that Glooskap, being left alone on
the island, would perish, because they knew not his power. There is
another story which says that he was living at the mouth of the
Oolostook, at a place called Menogwes (St. John, N. B.), and went away
into the forest as far as Goolwahgik (Juan), and had been gone six
weeks, when he returned home and found the old woman, whose name was
Mooinarkw, [Footnote: Mr. Rand translates this Micmac word as Mrs.
Bear.] and Martin had been taken away. Following their tracks to the
shore he saw one of his greatest enemies, a terrible sorcerer named
Win-pe, just pushing off in his canoe. And with him were his wife and
child and Dame Bear and Martin. They were still within call, and
Glooskap cried from the shore to the grandmother to send back his dogs,
which were not larger than mice, and, as some stories tell us, were
squirrels. So she took a _woltes-takun_, which is a small wooden
platter, and on such Indian dice are tossed. This she put in the water,
and placed the dogs on it, and it floated to the shore, and Glooskap
took it up. Win-pe with his family and prisoners pushed on to
Passamoogwaddy (M.), and thence to Grand Manan; and after remaining
there a while he crossed over to Kes-poog-itk (Yarmouth), and so went
slowly along the southern coast through Oona-mahgik (Cape Breton), and
over to Uktukkamkw (Newfoundland), where he was slain.
Now whether it was to gain magical power, or to weaken that of Win-pe,
or to chasten the others by suffering, who knows? But Glooskap rested
seven years alone before he pursued the enemy, though some say it was
seven months. And when the time had come, he took his dogs and went to
the shore, and looked far out to sea over the waves, and sang the magic
song which the whales obey. [Footnote: In the _Tales and Traditions
of the Eskimo_, by Dr. Henry Rink, we are told in the story of
Akigsiak that an old man taught the hero a magic lay for luring a whale
to him. In another, Katersparsuk sings such a song to the walrus.] Soon
there rose in the distance a small whale, who had heard the call, and
came to Glooskap; but he was then very great, and he put one foot on
the whale to test his weight, and the fish sank under him. So he sent
it away.
Then the lord of men and beasts sang the song again, and there came the
largest, a mighty female, and she bore him well and easily over to
Kes-poog-itk. But she was greatly afraid of getting into shoal water,
or of running ashore, and this was what Glooskap wished her to do that he
might not wet his feet. So as she approached she asked him if land were
in sight. But he lied, and said "No." So she went on rapidly.
However, she saw shells below, and soon the water grew so shoal that
she said in fear, "_Moon-as-taba-kan-kari-jean-nook_? (M.) Does
not the land show itself like a bow-string?" And he said, "We are still
far from land."
Then the water grew so shoal that she heard the song of the Clams as
they lay under the sand, singing to her that she should throw him off
and drown him. For these Clams were his deadly enemies. But Bootup the
Whale did not understand their language, so she asked her rider--for he
knew Clam--what they were chanting to her. And he replied in a song:--
"They tell you to hurry (_cussal_) (M),
To hurry, to hurry him along,
Over the water,
Away as fast as you can!"
Then the Whale went like lightning, and suddenly found herself high on
the shore. Then she lamented and sang:--
"Alas, my grandchild (_noojeech_),
Ah, you have been my death;
I can never leave the land,
I shall swim in the sea no more."
But Glooskap sang:--
"Have no fear, _noogumee_,
You shall not suffer,
You shall swim in the sea once more."
[Illustration: GLOOSKAP LOOKING AT THE WHALE SMOKING HIS PIPE]
Then with a push of his bow against her head he sent her off into deep
water. And the Whale rejoiced greatly. But ere she went she said, "Oh,
my grandson, _K'teen pehabskwass n'aga tomawe_?" (P.). "Hast thou
not such a thing as an old pipe and some tobacco?" He replied,--
"Ah yes.
You want tobacco,
I behold you."
So he gave her a short pipe and some tobacco, and thereunto a light.
And the Whale, being of good cheer, sailed away, smoking as she went,
while Glooskap, standing silent on the shore, and ever leaning on his
maple bow, beheld the long low cloud which followed her until she
vanished in the far away.
In a Passamaquoddy tale of Pook-jin-skwess the Witch, the Clams sing a
song deriding the hero. The words are:--
"Mow chow nut-pess sell
Peri marm-hole wett."
These words are not Indian, but they are said to mean,--
You look very funny with your long hair streaming in the wind,
And sailing on a snail's horn.
The large Clams sing this in a bass voice, the small ones in falsetto.
The gypsies say that a Snail, when put on a pie, utters four cries, or
squeaks; hence in Germany the Romany call it _Stargoli_: that is,
_shtor-godli_, four cries.
_Of the Dreadful Deeds of the Evil Pitcher, who was both Man and
Woman, and how she fell in love with Glooskap, and, being scorned,
became his Enemy. Of the Toads and Porcupines, and the Awful Battle of
the Giants._
(Passamaquoddy.)
When Glooskap came into the world it abounded in giants, monsters,
sorcerers and witches, fiends and devils. Among the witches there was,
one whom the Passamaquoddy call Pook-jin-skwess, or the Pitcher.
[Footnote: It is not impossible that this well-known Indian witch gave
her name to Moll Pitcher, the famous fortune-teller of Lynn.] And they
have a legend that she once fell in love with Glooskap when he was
young and had not gained the power of his riper age. He fled before
her, and she pursued him. It was a dreadful flight, since to make rapid
steps both took the form of giants by their _m'-te-oulin_ (P.), or
magic power. It was like an awful storm in winter, the wind chasing the
cloud; it was like a frightful tempest in summer, the lightning chasing
the thunder. As the snow lay deep, both had snow-shoes on. When they
came to the shore Glooskap leaped from the main-land to the island of
Grand Manan, [Footnote: A leap of about nine miles.] and so escaped
her. Now the snow-shoes of Glooskap were _sams'ook_ (P.), or
round, while those of Pook-jin-skwess were long and pointed, [Footnote:
The Penobscots give the long shoes to Glooskap.] and the marks of them
as they jumped are to be seen deep in the rocks to this day.
When Glooskap came to the camp, which was at Ogumkegeak (M.), now called
Liverpool, he found no one. But there lay the _witch-kwed-lakun-cheech_
(M.), or birch-bark dish of Martin, and from it, or, as another legend
states, from an old man and woman who dwelt hard by, he learned that
Win-pe and the families had been gone for seven years, along a road
guarded by wicked and horrible beings, placed by Win-pe to prevent the
Great Master from finding him. For it was a great triumph for him to
keep Glooskap's friends as slaves, and all the land spoke thereof.
And these monsters were Pook-jin-skwess, or the Evil Pitcher herself,
in many forms; for she could be man or woman, [Footnote: In the
_Tales and Traditions_ of the Eskimo, we are told that a woman
named Arnakuak, being apparently gifted by magic with the ability to
change her sex, had her daughter-in-law; Ukuamak, for a wife, and,
having eloped with her, was followed and killed by her own son. As this
is almost immediately followed by a story of a man who gave birth to a
child, it would appear that the idea was common to both Eskimo and
Indians. Only the wicked magicians in Indian tales change their sex,
like Loki in the Edda.] or many of them, and also several girls, when
she willed it. Now it is a great part of Indian _m'teoulin_ (P.)
to know what one's enemies are planning and plotting, and all their
tricks and darkened paths; and in this Glooskap went beyond them all,
for before his time every one went his own way, even in wickedness. But
Glooskap first of all threw out his soul unto others.
And when he came to Ogumkeok he found a hut, and in it, seated over a
fire, the ugliest old hag he had ever seen, trembling in every limb, as
if near death, dirty, ragged, and loathsome in all ways. Looking up at
him with bleared eyes, she begged him to gather her a little firewood,
which he did. And then she prayed him to free her from the _wah
gook_(M.), or vermin, with which she was covered, and which were
maddening her with their bites. These were all devils in disguise, the
spirits of foul poison, such as she deemed must kill even the Master.
Now Glooskap, foreseeing all this, had taken with him, as he came, from
a bog many cranberries. And bidding Pook-jin-skwess bend over, he began
to take from her hair the hideous vermin, and each, as he took it,
became a horrid porcupine or toad. [Footnote: In the Eskimo mythology,
_Arnarkuagsak_, the old woman of the sea, is tormented by vermin
about her head. These are really the souls of still-born or murdered
infants, who have become imps. The first thing which the _angakok_
or sorcerer, who visits her must do is to free her from these pests.
The descent of the sorcerer to this mother of all the monsters of the
sea, who are at the same time _giants_, when they choose to assume
the human form, recalls that of Odin to Hela. Both make this journey to
hell, not for themselves, but in the interests of mankind.] Then the
hag asked, "Have you found one?" "I have," replied the Master.
"_Basp_!" (M.) "Crush it!" was her answer, and Glooskap crushed a
cranberry; and she, hearing the noise, thought that he had done as she
bid, and that the poison on his fingers would penetrate to his life.
But he put the imps, one by one, under the wooden platter, which lay
before him. As this went on he put the witch to sleep. When she awoke
he was gone. The foul porcupines and toads were swarming all over the
ground, having upset their hive. And filled with fury at being made a
jest of, since it was a great despite that he had not even found it
worth while to kill her when asleep, she burst out into her own form,
which was beautiful as sin, wild as the devil, and gathering up all her
imps, and making herself far more magical by fiercer will, went onward
to encounter him again.
Then Glooskap came to a narrow pass in the hills. Here were two
terrible beasts, as one story has it, or two monstrous dogs, [Footnote:
The Indians had dogs before the coming of the whites. They were
wolf-like.] as it is told in another. And they attacked him; but he set
his own at them, and they, growing to tremendous size, killed the others.
His dogs were so trained that when called to come off they went on, and
the more they were bid to be quiet the more they bit.
Soon he came to the top of a high hill, and looking thence over all the
land saw afar off a large wigwam, and knew in his heart that an enemy
dwelt therein. And coming to it he found an old man and his two
daughters. [Footnote: In another account, an old sorceress and her
daughters; also an old man and his wife and daughters. According to two
versions, these are all separate wizards, but the whole spirit of the
Passamaquoddy legends make them Pook-jin-skwess alone.] Now the girls
came out greeting [Footnote: In the story of the Rabbit and Lusifee the
sorcerer singly twice assumes the form of an old man and his two
daughters. There is yet another story, in which a magician thus triples
himself with two daughters. It is, I believe, Eskimo, but I cannot
distinctly remember as to this.] him with very pleasant glances, wooing
softly and sweetly; they offered him a string of sausages, such as the
Indians make from the entrails of the bear by only turning them inside
out. For the fat, which clings to the outside, fills the skin. When
these are washed and dried and smoked, many deem them delicious. But
these which the girls offered, as girls do, to show their love, by
casting the string round the neck of the favored youth, were enchanted,
and had they once put the necklace upon him he would have been
overpowered. However, they knew not of this new magic which the Master
had brought into the land, by which one can read the heart; so, as they
sidled up unto him with smiles and blandishments, waving in the wind as
they danced their garlands of enchanted sausages, he looked as if he
wanted to be won. And when his dogs growled at them he cried,
"_Cuss_!" (M.), which means _Stop_! but which the dogs only
knew as "Hie, at them!" So they flew at the witches, and these flashed
up like fire into their own dreadful forms of female fiends. Then there
was a terrible tumult, for never before in the land of the Wabanaki had
there been such a battle. All the earth and rocks around were torn up.
All the while the Master cried to the dogs, "Stop! These are my
sisters. Come off, ye evil beasts! Let them alone! Cease, oh cease!"
Yet the more he exhorted them to peace the more they inclined to war,
and the more fiercely they fought, until the witches fled.
[Illustration: GLOOSKAP SETTING HIS DOGS ON THE WITCHES]
Then he entered the wigwam where the old sorcerer sat, waiting for him
as food. And the Master said, "Are you hungry? Or do you love sausages?
Here they are!" Instantly casting the links around his neck, he was
taken, and Glooskap slew him with one blow.
Then, going on, he reached the Strait of Camsoke [Footnote: Camsoke
means, "There is a high bluff on the opposite side of the river."--S.
T. Rand.] (M.), or Canso, and to cross over again sang the song which
wins the whales, and one of these rising, carried him to the opposite
shore. Thence he made the circle of Oona-mah-gik, keeping round by the
southern coast, and coming to the old camps where his enemy had been.
From the _witch-kwed-lakun-cheech_, or birch-bark dish, left by
Martin, he learned how long they had been gone. [Footnote: As the gypsy
leaves his _patteran_, or sign, so the Indian makes marks which
set forth clearly enough how long he has camped at any place, and how
many were in the party, etc. It may be supposed that Martin, not daring
to attract Win-pe's attention, effected this by a few secret scratches.
Thus three lines and a crescent or moon would mean three nights.] When
he came to Uk-tu-tun (M., Cape North) he found they had rowed to
Uk-tuk-amqw (M., Newfoundland), and had left three days before.