represents the Glooskap myth in another form.] whose mother had been
slain by a fearful cannibal giant. And it was against these that he
made war all his life long, as did Glooskap. Whence it came to pass
that they loved one another, which did not at all hinder them from
having a hearty and merry encounter, in which they missed but little of
killing one or the other, and all in the best natured way in the world.
[Illustration: Glooskap and Keanke spearing the whale]
Now, having come to Pulewech Munegoo, the lord of men and beasts was
entertained by Kitpooseagunow. And when the night came, he who was born
after his mother's death said to his guest, "Let us go on the sea in a
canoe and catch whales by torchlight;" to which Glooskap, nothing loath,
consented, for he was a mighty fisherman, as are all the Wabanaki of
the seacoast. [Footnote: Glooskap would seem to have been the prototype
of the giant fisher so well known in song:--
"His rod was made of a sturdy oak,
His line, a cable, in storms ne'er broke;
He baited his hook with a dragon's tail,
And sat on a rock and bobbed for whale."
A fabulous monster, apparently identical with the dragon, is common in
Micmac stories.]
Now when they came to the beach there were only great rocks, lying here
and there; but Kitpooseagunow, lifting the largest of these, put it on
his head, and it became a canoe. And picking up another, it turned to a
paddle, while a long splinter which he split from a ledge seemed to be
a spear. Then Glooskap asked, "Who shall sit in the stern and paddle,
and who will take the spear?" Kitpooseagunow said "That will I." So
Glooskap paddled, and soon the canoe passed over a mighty whale; in all
the great sea there was not his like; but he who held the spear sent it
like a thunderbolt down into the waters, and as the handle rose again
to sight he snatched it up, and the great fish was caught. And as
Kitpooseagunow whirled it on high, the whale, roaring, touched the
clouds. Then taking him from the point, the fisher tossed him into the
bark as if he had been a trout. And the giants laughed; the sound of
their laughter was heard all over the land of the Wabanaki. And being
at home, the host took a stone knife and split the whale, and threw one
half to the guest Glooskap, and they roasted each his piece over the
fire and ate it.
Now the Master, having marked the light, which was long in the heaven
after the sun went down, said, "The sky is red; we shall have a cold
night." And his host understood him well, and saw that he would make it
cold by magic. So he bade Marten bring in all the fuel he could find,
and all there was of the oil of a porpoise; and this oil he so
multiplied by magic that there was ten times more of it. And they sat
them down and smoked, and told tales of old times; but it grew ever
colder and colder. And at midnight, when all was burnt out, Marten
froze to death, and then the grandmother, but the two giants smoked on,
and laughed and talked. Then the rocks out-of-doors split with the
cold, the great trees in the forest split; the sound thereof was as
thunder, but the Master and he who was born after his mother's death
laughed even louder. And so they sat until the sun rose. Then Glooskap
said to the dead woman, "_Noogume, numchahse_!" (M.) "Grandmother,
arise!" and to his boy, "_Abistanooch numchahse_!" "Marten,
arise!" and they arose, and went about their work.
And the morning being bright, they went forth far into the forest to
find game. But they got very little, for they caught only one small
beaver, and Glooskap gave up his share of this to Kitpooseagunow. And
he, taking the skin, fastened it to his garter, whence it dangled like
the skin of a mouse at the knee of a tall man. But as he went on
through the woods the skin grew larger and larger and larger, till it
broke away by its own weight. Then the giant twisted a mighty sapling
into a withe, and fastened it around his waist. But it still grew apace
as he went on, till, trailing after, it tore down all the forest,
pulling away the trees, so that Kitpooseagunow left a clean, fair road
behind him. [Footnote: Many of these stories have received later
additions, which can be detected by their occurring only in single
versions of them. In the story of Kitpooseagunow (Rand's manuscript)
the giants arrive at a "large town," and go to a "store," where they
sell the skin for all the money, goods, houses, and lands which, the
merchant possesses. "And the skin was so heavy that it took the greater
part of the day to weigh it."]
And when the night came on they fished again, as they had done before;
and again it was said, but this time by the host, "The sky is red; we
shall have a cold night." So they heaped up wood more than the first
time, but now it was far colder. And soon the boy was dead, and the
grandmother also lay frozen. But when the sun rose the Master brought
them back to life, and, bidding good-by to Kitpooseagunow, went his
way. [Footnote: It is possible that there is a version of this story in
which Glooskap kills his friend with frost, and then revives him. In
one story it is a _frozen stream_, incarnate as a man, which
attempts in vain to freeze Glooskap. The extraordinary manner in which
host and guest, or even intimate friends, endeavor to _kill_ one
another in the most good-natured rivalry, is of constant occurrence in
the Eskimo legends. It is not infrequent among our own backwoods or
frontier-men.
The stone-canoe occurs in Eskimo legends (_vide_ Rink), as it does
in those of all American Indians.]
The most striking feature, however, of this legend is its Norse-like
breadth or grandeur and its genial humor, which are very remarkable
characteristics for the fictions of savages. Its resemblance to the
Scandinavian tales is, if accidental, very remarkable. The two heroes
are, like Thor and Odin, giant heroes who make war on Jotuns and
Trolls; that is, giant-like sorcerers. It is their profession; they
live in it. No one can read Beowulf or the Eddas without being struck
by the great resemblance between Grendel, the hideous, semi-human night
prowler, and the Kewahqu', a precisely similar monster, who rises from
the depths of waters to wantonly murder man. I do not recall any two
beings in any other two disconnected mythologies so strangely similar.
The fishing for the whale recalls that which is told in the Older Edda
(Hymiskrida, 21), where Hymir succeeds in hooking two of these fish:--
"Then he and Hymir rowed out to sea. Thor rowed oft with two oars, and
so powerfully that the giant was obliged to acknowledge they were
speeding very fast. _He himself rowed at the prow_."
If the reader will compare this account of the Edda with the Micmac
story, he cannot fail to be struck with the great resemblance between
them. It is even specified in both that the hero, though a guest,
paddles. And in both instances the host catches a whale. Now compare
with this the legend of Manobozho-Hiawatha, who merely catches the
great sunfish, and is swallowed by it. Does it not seem as if the
Western Indians had here borrowed from the Micmacs, and the Micmacs
from the Norse? Whether this was done directly or through the Eskimo is
as yet a problem. It may also be noted that both in the Edda and in the
Micmac story, it is declared that one of the giants picked up the boat
and carried it.
It may be observed that most of these Indian traditions were originally
poems. It is probable that all were sung, while they still retained the
character of serious mythical or sacred narrative. Now they are in the
transition state of heroic tales. But they unquestionably still retain
many passages of very great antiquity, and it is not impossible that
Eskimo and even Norse songs are still preserved in them. In this tale
the following coincidences with passages in the Elder Edda (Hymiskrida)
are remarkable. In both the host asks his guest to go with him to catch
whales, to which the latter assents.
"'We three to-morrow night
Shall be compelled
On what we catch to live.'
Thor said he would
On the sea row."
Kitpooseagunow picks up the heavy canoe, with its oars and a spear, and
carries them.
"Thor went,
grasped the prow
quickly with its hold-water,
lifted the boat
together with its oars
and scoop;
bore to the dwelling
the curved vessel."
Glooskap asks which of the two shall take the paddle, and which sit in
the stern. Hymir inquires,--
"Wilt thou do
half the work with me?
either the whales
home to the dwelling bear,
Or the boat
fast bind?"
Kitpooseagunow drew up a whale.
"The mighty Hymir,
He alone
two whales drew
up with his hook."
After this whale-fishing, the Scandinavian giants at home have a trial
of strength and endurance. Thor throws a cup at Hymir. This cup can
only be broken on Hymir's head, which is of ice, and intensely hard.
"That is harder
than any cup."
This is therefore an effort on the part of Thor to overcome Cold. Hymir
is the incarnation of Cold itself.
"The icebergs resounded
as the churl approached;
the thicket on his cheeks
was frozen.
In shivers flew the pillars
At the Jotun's glance."
That is, the frost cracks the stones and rocks. In the Indian tale the
two giants try to see which can freeze the other. In both there is
distinctly a contest. In the Norse tale Strength or Heat fights Frost;
in the American, Frost is battled with by Frost as a rival.
It may be observed that the Indian tale is far from being perfect, and
that in all probability the whole of it includes a fishing for the
sea-serpent.
It is plainly set forth in the Edda that Cold may be overcome by a
magic spell. Thus Groa (Grougaldr, 12) promises her son a rune to
effect this:--
"A seventh (charm) I will sing thee:
If on a mountain high
frost should assail thee,
deadly cold shall not
thy body injure,
nor draw it to thy limbs."
_How Glooskap made a Magician of a Young Man, who aided another to
win a Wife and do Wonderful Deeds_.
(Micmac.)
It is well known unto all Indians who still keep the true faith of the
olden time that there are wondrous dwellers in the lonely woods, such
as elves and fairies, called by the Micmacs _Mikumwessos_, and by
the Passamaquoddies _Oonahgawessos_. And these can work great
wonders, and also sing so as to charm the wildest beasts. From them
alone come the magic pipes or flutes, which sometimes pass into
possession of noted sorcerers and great warriors; and when these are
played upon, the woman who hears the melody is bewitched with love, and
the moose and caribou follow the sound even to their death. And when
the _Megumawessos_ are pleased with a mortal they make him a
fairy, even like themselves.
_N'Karnayoo_. In old times there was an Indian village, and in it
were two young men, [Footnote: According to another Micmac version of
this legend, the elder of these pilgrims was Keekwahjoo, the Badger,
and the younger Caktoogwasees, or Little Thunder.] who had heard that
Glooskap, ere he left the world, would bestow on those who came to him
whatever they wanted. So they went their way, an exceeding long
pilgrimage, until they came to a great island, where he dwelt. And there
they first met with Dame Bear and Marten, and next with the Master
himself. Then they all, sitting down to supper, had placed before them
only one extremely small dish, and on this there was a tiny bit of
meat, and nothing more. But being a bold and jolly fellow, the first of
the pilgrims, thinking himself mocked for sport, cut off a great part
of the meat, and ate it, when that which was in the dish grew in a
twinkling to its former size; and so this went on all through the
supper, every one eating his fill, the dish at the end being as full as
ever.
Of these two, one wished to become a Mikum-wess, and the other to win a
very beautiful girl, the daughter of a great chief, who imposed such
cruel tasks on all who came for her, that they died in attempting them.
And the first was taken by Glooskap; and after he had by a merry trick
covered him with filth and put him to great shame, he took him to the
river, and after washing him clean and combing his hair gave him a
change of raiment and a hair string of exceeding great magic virtue,
since when he had bound it on he became a Mikumwess, having all the
power of the elfin-world. And also because he desired to excel in
singing and music, the Master gave him a small pipe, and it was that
which charmed all living beings; [Footnote: The identity of these
incidents with those of "classic" times is worth noting. There is a
lustration and the clothing the neophyte in a new garment, and he
receives the magic fillet, as in the Mysteries of the old world. Nor is
the resemblance of the pipe to that of Orpheus less striking. In many
respects this is the most remarkable old Indian myth I have ever met
with.] and then singing a song bade him join in with him. And doing
this he found that he could sing, and ever after had a wondrous voice.
Now to seek the beautiful girl it was necessary to sail afar over the sea;
and during this adventure the Mikumwess was charged to take care of the
younger pilgrim. So he begged the Master to lend him his canoe. And
Glooskap answered, "Yes, I will do this for thee, if thou wilt honestly
return it when thou needest it no more. Yet in very truth I did never
yet lend it to mortal man but that I had to go after it myself."
[Footnote: One of the traits of _bonhomie_ and common humanity
which continually occur in the Glooskap tales, even in the most serious
situations and solemn myths. In this respect the resemblance of the
Northwest Algonquin tales to the Norse is truly striking. The canoe is
among all Indians, even in Central America, exactly what the umbrella
is in civilized society. With all his immense originality Glooskap had
a number of "old Joes," of which he never seems to have tired. One was
the inexhaustible dish, and another the giant skunk set upon end to salute
his visitors, and this of the canoe was probably the commonest of all.
He is a true Indian divinity, shining like the lightning and striking
only when there is a storm, but appearing like the Aurora Borealis, or
even the Robin Goodfellow-Will-o'-the-Wisp at others.]
Thereupon the young man promised most faithfully that he would indeed
return the canoe, and with this they got them ready for the journey.
But when they came to the bay there was no canoe, and they knew not
what was to be done. But Glooskap pointed to a small island of granite
which rose amid the waves, and it was covered with tall pine-trees.
"There is my canoe!" said he; [Footnote: Another standard "piece of
witt" with the incorrigible joker. Glooskap's "floating island" was
served up as a dessert to all guests, and I doubt not that if the
double meaning of the word had been known to him, they would have had
that too.] and when he had taken them unto it, it became a real canoe,
with masts, and they set sail on it, rejoicing.
So they came in time to a very large island, where they drew up the
canoe and hid it in the bushes. Then they went forward to seek for
people, and found a village in which dwelt the chief who had the
beautiful daughter, in seeking whom so many had lost their lives.
And having found him, they went into his wigwam, and were placed on the
seat of honor. Now when an Indian seeks a wife, he or his mutual friend
makes no great ado about it, but utters two words, which tell the whole
story. And these are _Sewin-coadoo-gwah-loogwet_', which mean--in
Micmac, "I am tired of living alone." And the chief, hearing this,
consented that the young man should marry her whom he sought; but on
one condition: and this was that he should slay and bring unto him the
head of a certain horned dragon, called in Micmac _Chepichealm_.
[Footnote: Vide "Supernatural Beings." The _Chepichealm_ (M.) is
an immense horned serpent or wingless dragon. It is probably identical
with the Wiwillmekq' (P. and Pen.), which is a singular horned worm
found on trees or by water. It is believed to be capable of assuming a
vast size and to be gifted with supernatural powers.] So this was
agreed upon, and the two strangers went to the wigwam which was
assigned them.
Now in the night he that was Mikumwess arose and went alone and afar
until he came to the den of the dragon, and this was a great hole in
the ground. And over this he laid a mighty log, and then began the
magic dance around the den. So the serpent, or the great Chepichcalm,
hearing the call, came forth, putting out his head after the manner of
snakes, waving it all about in every way and looking round him. While
doing this he rested his neck upon the log, when the Indian with a blow
of his hatchet severed it. Then taking the head by one of the shining
yellow horns he bore it to his friend, who in the morning gave it to
the chief. And the old man said to himself, "This time I fear me I
shall lose my child."
Yet the young man had more to do; for the chief said, "I would fain see
my son coast down yonder hill on hand-sled." Now this lull was an
exceeding high mountain; the sides thereof were ragged with rocks and
terrible with trees and ice. Then two toboggins [Footnote: Toboggin: a
sled or sledge.] were brought out, one of them for the two strangers,
and this he that was Mikumwess was to direct. And on the other were two
powerful men, and these were both _boo-oinak_, [Footnote:
Magicians, the original of _pow-wow-in_. It is apparently the same
in meaning as the _angakok_ of the neighboring Eskimo.] who hoped
to see the former soon fall out, and then to run over them. And at the
word they went flying fearfully down the mountain, and yet ever faster,
as if to death. And soon he that sought the girl went whirling headlong
from the sled, and the two _boo-oinak_ gave a loud hurrah; for
they knew not that this had been done with intent by the Mikumwess,
that he might get them before him. So he put forth his hand, and,
seizing the younger man, turned a little aside, but in an instant went
on after; and erelong the sled of the _boo-oinak_ stopped, but the
other, bounding upwards from a mighty wall of ice, flew far over their
heads onwards; nor did it stop in the valley, but, running with
tremendous speed up the opposite hill and into the village, struck the
side of the chief's wigwam, ripping it up from end to end ere it
stopped. And the old man, seeing this, said, "This time I have lost my
daughter!"
Yet the young man had more to do; for the chief said, "There is here a
man who has never been beaten in running, and thou must strive with him
in that and overcome him, to win thy wife." And the race was appointed;
but ere it came off he that was Mikumwess lent to his friend the magic
pipe to give him power. [Footnote: It may be observed that Indian magic
depends on fetich, or objects having innate power. Glooskap himself
relies on his belt, and when he lends it to Marten, the boy becomes
"manitoo," as the more Western Indians term it. There is in the early
red Indian mythology really no God; only more or less powerful
magicians.] And when he that was the racer of the village met the young
man, the youth said, "Who art thou?" and he replied, "I am Wey-ad-esk"
(the Northern Lights, M.); "but who art thou?" And he answered, "I am
Wosogwodesk" (the Chain Lightning). And they ran. In an instant they
were no longer in sight; they were far away over the most distant
hills. Then all sat and waited, and ere it was noon he that was the
Chain Lightning returned, and he was not out of breath, nor weary, and
he had gone round the world. And at evening they saw the Northern
Lights return, and he trembled and quivered with fatigue; yet for all
that he had not been round the world, but had turned back. And the old
chief, seeing him beaten, exclaimed, "This time I shall lose my child!"
And yet there was another trial of the young man ere he could win her
whom he wanted. For the chief had a man whom no one could overcome in
swimming and diving, and it was chiefly in this last thing that he
excelled. And the young man must strive with him. And when they met he
asked the man of the village his name, and he replied, "I am an
_Ukchigumooech_" (a Sea Duck, M.); "but who are you?" And he
answered, "I am a _Kweemoo_" (a Loon, M.). So they dived, and
after a time the Sea Duck rose again for breath, but those who waited
waited long indeed ere they saw the Loon. And an hour passed, and he
came not, and yet another ere they beheld him; but when he at last rose
the old chief said, "This is the end of all our weary work, for this
time truly I have lost my child."
Yet it was not the end of the wonderful deeds which were done in that
village by the power of the great Glooskap. For the Mikumwess, at the
great dance which was held that evening at the wedding, astonished all
who beheld him. As he danced around the circle, upon the very hard
beaten floor, they saw his feet sink deeper at every step, and ever
deeper as the dance went on; ploughing the ground up into high, uneven
ridges, forming a trench as he went, until at length only his head was
to be seen. [Footnote: This is very characteristic of the true
magician, both in the Algonquin and Eskimo folk-lore. "The
_angakok_," or sorcerer of Greenland, "after meeting with
_tomarsuk_, or guardian spirits, sometimes manifested it by his
feet sinking into the rocky ground _just as if in snow_." (Rink.)
This phrase indicates the Northern origin of the idea, which occurs in
many Indian stories. I have been assured in all faith that there is a
Passamaquoddy _m'teoulin_, or sorcerer, now living, who can walk
up to his knees in a floor or in the paved street, and an honest and
trustworthy Indian assured me that he had seen him do it.]
And this ended the dancing for that night, since the ground was no
longer to be danced upon by anybody except wizards and witches.
Then the young man and his wife and the Mikumwess entered their canoe
and sailed _boosijk_ (homewards, M.). And yet their trials were
not over. [Footnote: These subsequent trials were not inflicted by the
old chief, but were, as appears by comparison with other legends,
simply jokes played by the incorrigible Glooskap. It is most probable
that in its original form this remarkable myth was all _maya_,
or illusion, and the whole a series of illusions, caused by the
arch-conjurer, typifying natural phenomena.] For they had not gone
far ere they saw an awful storm coming to meet them; and he that had
the Elfin spells knew that it was raised by _boo-oin_, or sorcery,
since these storms are the worst of all. Then, without fear, he rose,
and, filling his lungs and puffing his cheeks, he blew against the
tempest, wind against wind, until he blew the wind away, and the great
water was '_aoobuneak_', as calm and smooth as before.
So they sailed on over the sunlit sea, but it was not long before the
Elf-gifted saw rising among the waves far before them a dark mass,
which soon proved to be a tremendous Beast coming to attack them. And
as he drew near they saw it was Quahbeet, the giant beaver, and his eyes
were angry. [Footnote: From the beginning, when _Quahbeetsis_,
the son of the Beaver, inspired Malsumsis with hatred of Glooskap, this
quadruped appears as an enemy.] But the Mikumwess, seeing this, steered
straight to meet the monster, and, coming to him, said, "I am the great
hunter of beavers; lo, I am their butcher; many a one has fallen by my
hand." [Footnote: This is oddly like the speech of the beaver-killer in
_The Hunting of the Snark_.] Now the Beaver had placed himself
under water, with his tail out of it and rising upwards, that he might
sink the canoe with a blow thereof; for the Beaver strikes mightily in
such wise, as is his wont. But he of the magic power, with one blow of
his tomahawk, cut the tail from the body, and sailed onward.
Yet they had not gone far ere, on rounding a point, they saw before
them another animal of giant size, who likewise had his tail in the
air, waiting to overcome them, and this was A-bekk-thee-lo (M.), the
Skunk. Yet ere he made his hideous attack the Mikumwess, ever on the
watch, caught up his spear, and, hurling it, pierced A-bekk-thee-lo,
who did but kick two or three times ere he died. And, stepping ashore,
he who had slain him took a pole, a long dead pine, which lay upon the
sand, and, transfixing the Skunk, lifted him high in air, and, planting
the tree on the ground, left him, saying scornfully, as he left,
"_Lik cho je nain_!" which, being interpreted, meaneth, "And now
show your tail there!" [Footnote: The Skunk is here a parody on the
Beaver.]