The sages of the tribe
Said he was soon to be
A mighty sorcerer;
For when he did but point
His finger at the moose,
Or anything which ran,
At once it would drop dead,
Killed by his magic will;
And, when in a canoe
He pointed at the ducks,
The wild fowl swam no more,
And all the water round
Was full of floating game
Which all might gather in,
As freely as they would.
And so it came to pass
That through that wondrous Boy
The mother and her tribe
Had ever food enough.
Now this is all the truth,
And ’twas a wondrous thing,
As ever yet was told.
Katahdin the great lord
Of the Wabanaki;
The children of the Light,
Or of the Break of Day;
Had wed him to the girl
That she might have a child
Who should raise up the tribe,
And make them great once more
Even a mighty race,
The Lords of all the land.
And so to her he said:
“Declare unto thy folk
That they shall never ask
Of thee, who was the sire
Of this brave lad, our son;
They’ll know it all right well
If they but see his face,
And thou shalt not be teased
By questions and by talk
From fools who fain would know
The by-ways of a god.”
And so she made it known
That none should question her,
And gave them all their food,
And bade them let her be!
And truly this was like
The casting oil on fire,
And men and women all
Were raging to inquire
About the mystery,
And ask the wife herself
Who might her husband be?
Though everybody knew
In all the country round.
And though it had been said
That life and death and all
Hung on her telling naught.
Though what were life or death
To any woman born,
Likewise to many a man,
Compared unto the joy
Of learning that which is
None of their business--
And tattling it abroad?
And so they pressed her sore,
Still teasing her to tell,
And giving her no rest
As fools are wont to do.
Until one day, enraged,
She thought: “This passes strength
And I’ll bear it no more.
Truly my lord was right,
These people are too vile,
Too petty and too mean,
For subjects to my son,
He ne’er shall lead them on
To glorious victory!
They are not of the kind
To make a mighty race:
With them it shall be o’er!”
And as they still kept on
Tormenting, teasing her.
She spoke and said: “Ye fools!
Who fain would kill yourselves
By your own folly, ye
Mud-wasps who sting the hands
Which fain would pluck you forth
When drowning in the pool.
Why will ye trouble me
To tell you what ye know?
When ye keep asking me
‘Who my boy’s father was?’
Can ye not plainly see
Katahdin in his brows?
Now it shall be indeed
To your great woe and pain,
And abject misery,
That ever ye did ask
Of what concerned you not.
So now from this day forth,
Ye all may feed yourselves;
For now my boy no more
Will lend his help to you.”
So she arose and went
Her way into the woods
And up the mountain side,
Leading her little son;
And from that day and hour
Was seen on earth no more.
And since that time our tribe
With all the Indian folk
Who once might have become
A great and glorious race,
Have dwindled down into
A very little folk.
For when our minds grow small
And gossip is our god,
We must diminish too.
Truly it had been wise
For them of olden time,
And for us too, indeed,
Could they have held their tongues. L.
FOOTNOTES:
[67] Long ago an Indian girl was walking on Katahdin and she felt
very lonesome.
VIII
THE PARTRIDGE AND THE SPRING
[_Passamaquoddy_]
_Uskitap iaqu bamose kʾchikok
Etuchi nodak metetaguak kequ pichikok._[68]
[Illustration]
A man was walking the woods
When he heard afar a noise
As of footsteps beating the ground.
With a cry as of merry singing;
So he sought to find the people;
’Twas a week before he found them.
’Twas a man and his wife a-dancing
About a tree; on its summit
There sat a great Raccoon,
And by their constant treading
They had worn a trench in the ground--
Yea, in it, up to their waists.
And when the stranger in wonder
Asked of them, “What are you doing?”
They answered that being hungry
They were trying to fell the tree,
And bring it down by dancing.
The stranger said to them:
“Know ye not that another,
A newer and better way
Of felling trees more quickly,
Has come into the land?”
They asked him how it might be.
Then, while they greatly wondered,
Taking his axe, he showed them
How to cut down trees in a hurry;
But made it a condition
That when the Raccoon should be taken
They might have his meat and eat it,
But the pelt should be his portion.
So, when the tree had fallen,
And the game became their booty,
The woman tanned the skin
Which was strangely large and glossy
And gave it to the Indian
Who took it and went away.
Then afar in a path in the forest
He met with another man,
And was greatly amazed at the sight,
Because the other was bearing
A very large birch wigwam,
A dwelling with many rooms.
He never had seen the like,
And at first was in a fright,
But the man, putting down the house,
Burst into a fit of laughter,
And shook him by the hand,
Seeming in faith to be
A downright honest fellow.
Then, while they smoked and laughed,
The man of the house beheld
The skin which the other bore
Of Espuns, the Raccoon,
And said with curious air:
“_He kekw nit?_” “What have you there
The skin of magic power?”
Then the other answering told
How he met the man and his wife
Who danced around the tree:
Whereat the man of the house
Offered to buy the skin
At any price at all,
And offered the house for it.
Then the other looked it through
And truly he was amazed
To find how many rooms
Were all contained in it,
And what a wondrous store
Of furniture and arms
And kettles and the like
Were stored in every room.
“But oh and alack,” he cried,
“I could never carry this house
As you do, on your head.”
“You can do it with ease,” replied
_Pilowî wʾskichin_,
That is “the stranger man;”
“Just put it on your head.”
He tried and found it as light
As a _kchi bʾsnŭd_, or
A basket made of birch.
And so he went his way,
Bearing the magic house
Lightly upon his head,
Till he came to a hard-wood ridge
In which was a bubbling spring;
And here he said: “I will live.”
So searching he found a room
In which there was a bed;
A better he ne’er had seen,
All covered with the skin
Of a snow-white northern bear.
So he laid him down to sleep.
In the morning when he awoke
What was his wonderment
To see above his head,
All hanging to the beams,
Good food of every kind,
All dainties known to man.
For there were venison,
Bear hams and many ducks,
Buckets of maple sugar,
Others of cranberries,
And many golden ears
Of drying Indian corn.
But as in his delight
He stretched out both his hands
To grasp the tempting food,
The bear-skin, melting fast,
As water ran away--
For it was but the snow
Which all the winter long
Had gathered o’er his nest.
And as he stretched his arms,
Lo! they were changed to wings!
And up he flew to the food,
Which was the early buds
Of the birch on which they hung.
He was in truth himself
A Partridge who had been
Wintering beneath the snow,
And who in joy came forth
To greet the pleasant spring. L.
FOOTNOTES:
[68] A man was walking in the woods and he heard something far off.
IX
LOX, THE INDIAN DEVIL
[_Passamaquoddy_]
_Laks uskiehinwi Wahant
Nekŭm mechikit wesis kchikok._[69]
Lox the Wolverine,
Is of all the beasts of the forest
Crafty and most ferocious,
Cunning and utterly given
To every kind of mischief.
In all the world of the wood
There is none so utterly evil,
And therefore he is called
By right, the Indian Devil.
Now it happened on a time,
That Lox, or the Wolverine,
Who had many a time been killed,
And as often rose from the dead
By his sheer force of will--
The one great gift he had--
Found himself down in luck,
Yea, very deeply down.
Crossing in bitter winter
A wide and dismal region
Very poorly supplied
For travel of any kind,
The cold wind blew like knives,
Snow fell with sleet and frost,
And hail and pelting rain
All in bad company
Came on him all in one.
And yet this evil soul
Was reckless through it all
And jolly, for he had
With every devilish vice
One virtue, as I said,
One saving gift, and that
Was, that of all the beasts
Who in the forest dwelt,
Or devils in Hʿlamkîk
(That is the Indian hell),
He had the hardest heart,
Toughest, as all allowed,
And most unconquerable.
He was the first to fight
And last one to give in
(Indeed, he never did
Give in, nor meant to do),
From which it came that he
Was specially admired
By all the blackguard beasts
Who prowled about the woods;
Wherein they differed little
From many among men.
Now, as of all the rogues,
Rowdies and rascal roughs,
The Wolves are just the worst,
You may right well believe
That ’twas with wondrous joy
Lox heard, as night came on,
Afar a long sad howl,
Betokening the presence
Of a pack of these pleasant folk;
It was music to the ears
Of the Indian Devil, Lox.
So he lifted up his voice
All in the Wolfish tongue;
For he was deeply learned
In many languages;
And soon was in the midst
Of a score of howling beasts
Of lupine land-loafers,
Who danced and rolled and screamed,
Biting each other for joy
At seeing him again--
The Indian Devil, Lox.
And then the eldest wolf
The Sagem or the chief,
Said unto him: “I hope
Thou’lt camp with us to-night;
For truly it is ill
For any gentleman
To be alone where he
Might meet with vulgar beasts!”
And Lox replied as if
He did a favor, all
With condescending air;
And ate their best dried meat,
And took the highest place
Beside their fires, and smoked
The chief’s best _tomawe_,
That is tobacco, from
The chieftain’s choicest pipe;
While all the others grinned
At his tremendous cheek,
To see him put it on--
The Indian Devil, Lox.
And when they laid them down
To sleep, the Sagamore
Said to the younger wolves:
“Be sure and cover up
The stranger with your tails.”
But Lox, who thought it was
A blanket made of fur,
Soon threw the cover off,
And then the chief and all
Admired the plucky guest
Who seemed to have no care
Of cold, or for their care;
And little did he care--
The Indian Devil, Lox.
Then in the early morn
When he would wend his way,
The Sagem of the Wolves
Said to the Wolverine:
“Oh Uncle--thou hast yet
Before thee three long days
All in a land where there
Is neither house nor hearth,
And thou wilt find it hard
To camp without a fire;
Now by good luck I have
An admirable spell
By which thou canst have fires,
And only three--yet they
Will serve thee to the end--
This is the way ’tis done:
Build up a pile of sticks,
And then jump over it,
Even as children do,
And thou wilt see it blaze.
This is a sacred charm
Of great antiquity
A secret ’mong the wolves.
Thou art the very first,
Not of our holy race,
To whom it hath been given;
No Gentile knoweth it.”
And so he bade farewell
To the Indian Devil Lox.
So Lox went trudging on,
Away unto the West;
And, as he went, he thought
Of the great gift of the
Peculiar pious race,
And, wondering to himself
If ’twere not all a flam,
Since ’twas his nature to
Suspect all kinds of deeds,
As he had ne’er done one
Save to some evil end,
And being curious
And very anxious to
Behold some strange new thing,
He said unto himself:
“Tush! I will try it now.”
So piling up some sticks
He bounded over them;
They burst into a blaze.
So all had come to pass
As the Wolf prophesied:
Which greatly did amaze
The Indian Devil Lox.
So having warmed himself
He went his way with joy,
But very soon observed
That it grew cold again.
The wind blew sharp and shrill,
The snow began to fall,
And Lox began to think
How very nice ’twould be,
And pleasant, to be _warm_.
Now ’tis a curious truth
All very wicked men
Have always _one_ weak spot,
So Lox the Wolverine
Without reflection piled
More sticks together; then
Jumped over them at once.
Up leaped a jolly blaze
As if to dance with him;
This was the second fire
And he had still three nights
Of bitter killing cold,
Ere he could reach his home--
The Indian Devil Lox!
And yet this Wolverine
Who was wise in all that’s bad,
Wicked and witty in sin,
Had not indeed gone far
Or out-walked the afternoon,
Before he began to think,
As he shivered and cursed the cold,
Of lighting another fire.
“Ah--hem!” he said, “who knows
But the weather may take a turn
To a thaw, and give us a night
Which _may_ be rather warm!
_Hum! ha!_ Methinks by the look
Of the clouds that the wind may be
South-westerly! I think
I have heard my grandmother say:
That a color such as I see,
Of red in the sky, means something--
I forget what it is--but it may be
A change for the better--or worse!
Well, I’ll take the chance.” Thus saying,
He piled up the sticks again,
And had a third fire--although
The first night had not come.
But he warmed himself and was happy--
The Indian Devil Lox!
[Illustration:
Then gayly jumping over
Awaited the cheerful blaze.]
Then as it grew dark and darker,
As the coals and sticks grew blacker,
When a fire is dying away,
He came to his camping place,
And then it grew cold in earnest,
A cold to split a flint.
However, Lox the Believing,
Said, “What is good for once
Must surely be good for ever,”
And made up a pile of sticks,
Then gayly jumping over
Awaited the cheerful blaze.
But all in vain, not a sparkle,
Not a hint of anything burning,
Not even a tiny crackle
Came from the silent wood.
But as Lox was persevering,
He hopefully kept on jumping,
Till after some thirty efforts
There arose a little smoke
Which came as if it were angry
At being so frequently called,
And then returned no more.
But Lox to himself repeating
“All smoke has fire behind it,”
Kept bravely at his leaping
Until the Indian Devil
Of madness and desperation
Awoke within his soul,
And he swore by it that he ever
Would keep straight on with his jumping
Till something blazed--or burst!
He himself was almost blazing--
The Indian Devil Lox.
So he kept on a-leaping,
But to him there came no comfort,
Not even the glow of a spark;
And being at last aweary
He fell in a swoon on the wood-pile,
And so he froze to death,
And that was the last that winter,
Which was heard of him in the land.
Yet I think in time he recovered,
For since then, he very often
Has appeared among the people--
Lox, The Indian Devil,
The Indian Devil Lox. L.
FOOTNOTES:
[69] Lox, the Indian Devil, is the worst beast in the woods.
=L’Envoi=
L’ENVOI
O happy sylvan hours and days of yore!
O quaint old speech which echoes in our ears!
From you we learn our country’s early lore,
The forest people’s sorrows, joys and fears.
So pass in peace, ye simple woodland race!
We may no longer hope to bid you live.
In our mad turmoil ye can have no place,
But we have taken what ye have to give. P.
[Illustration]
APPENDIX
=The Passamaquoddy Wampum Records=
[Illustration]
APPENDIX
THE PASSAMAQUODDY WAMPUM RECORDS
[This is an emendation of the text published by me in
Proceedings of the American Philosophical Society, xxxvi., pp.
479 ff. P.]
Mechi mieu begokni tohocioltowuk kʾchi ya wioo wʾskitap epitjik
wasisek nespi wʾsikyojik yot mechi mipniltimkil; nit etuch
alit-huswinook negmaoo tepit-hodmotit chewi kegw layoo kegusitch
eliyoek chewi layoo tech na neksayiu. Nit etuchi mʾsioo sise
pʾchittaketil kinwetaswinoo mʾsitte elipitt wʾskichin anquotch
elquiyik sownisnook anquotch wʾchipenook ketkik snoot segdenook
ketkik kʾski yasnook. Pechiote pechiyik Wabnakik.[70] Kʾmach
wʾsipkikmʾn yaka keswook naga wewʾchiyanya nitta tama wejiwetit
wʾtiyawa wʾskichunoo kepechip-tolnen wʾliagnotmagʾn. Nit
ettlowsittgw-ton kisipootwusoo likislootemook. Mʾsitte tekepitt
wʾskichin kinwetto nit kʾchi lagootwagʾn kitwitasso. Mʾsioo
wʾskichin nootek aknoomagʾn mʾsioo wʾlitt-hasoo. Mʾsioo wʾsiwatch
yogonyalkatkisilet tekowmʾk maltnitin. Nit mʾsioo kesookmik
sittobjitakan opootwuswinoom. Mʾsioo kesookmik sittopetchitakan
nissoo kessena agwamʾk opootwuswinoom natchiwitchitagwik kʾchi
lagootwagʾn kessena kʾchi mawopootwuswagʾn.
Nit mʾsioo kisma wewsettil nit omache tipit-hodmʾnya ta nʾteh
wʾtelook-hʾdinya. Stepal mʾsioo siwatch yokotit eli wʾabli
pemowsittit; yokt kʾchi sogmak wʾtiyana-kʾt kihee yot elapimʾk
asittwechosyokw kʾnʾmittunen elipegak naptwuk kenemittonenwul
kesek ewablikil yotʾl pegaknigil temʾhigʾnsisʾl to (?) naga tapyik
tepakw-yil chewi pooskenoswul oskemioo nitte mʾsioo wʾtlkislootmʾnya
wʾtlagootinya; nit otaginwipoonmʾnya kisook etuchi pootwusitit.
Nit liwettasoo chikte wigwam. Yot wʾkesekmenya etasikiskakil katama
loo-wen-kelosioo mʾsitte pootwuswin chewitpit-hasoo tanetch wʾtitmʾn.
Tan etuchi littootit tebaskuswagʾnʾl mʾsitte wʾtipithodmʾnya tanetch
likisi-chenetasso manʾtimʾk guni chikpultowuk topemlokemkil.
Apch etuchi apkw-timootit wigwam liwitassoo mʾsittakw-wen tlewestoo
nitt na guni omache pootwuswinya; mʾsioo potwooswin wʾtoknootmʾn
elipipyaks naga mech matnuttitit mʾsioo eli wʾsikyoltotitits
guenipnʾltimʾk; nittlo alteketch tepnasko yotipit-hatosoo naga
kʾtemakitt-haman wʾtepittemowa wʾtowasismowa naga mamatwikoltijik;
mechi mieu yokli-wʾsikyaspenik tahalote saglit-hat wʾsikap
naga mʾtappeguin. Nit mʾsioo mitte westotitit. Nit likisloomuk
wʾtlitonia kʾchi lakalosnihagʾn naga tochioo opoomʾnya epasioo
kʾchi wigwam tebagalosneoo; na wʾtlitunia ebiss oponmoonya
omittakw-sowall nit wen pelestowat nit etuch eshemhoottam yotʾl
eyilijil wʾnijanʾl tebakalusneoo. Mʾsitte na wʾtachwiyik settswawall
naga na mejimioo wʾmʾtutwatmʾn wʾkchi squt wa wechi skanekaswenook.
Yot wechi mach-hak wababi tebaskuswagʾnʾl.
Nit lagalosnihagʾnʾl etli-nʾsettwasik spemek nit nitmame
lagootwi-kislootmewagʾn mʾsitte kesigpesitt wʾskichin newanko
kesookinito kenooklo kechayami milijpesw. Mʾsitte yokteke
wʾskichinwuk wʾtachwi elyanya naga wiginya tebagaloosneoo teketch wen
kegw liwableloket chiwisemha wʾnikikowal wʾtesemhogol; nit ebis kisi
mawettasiks nittlo tane teppo wigit tebakalosneoo chejik sʾtʾmenal
tan eyigil tebaskuswagʾnʾl kessena essemha. Nit wigwam ettlinwasik
tabakalosneoo hidmowioo mʾsitte kesitt wʾskichin kesittakw chewi
sanke wipemowsoo. Katama apch chigawi yotoltiwun chewi lipemowsowuk
tahalo wesi westoltijik witsegesotoltijik opeskon wenikicowa.
Nittlo kʾchi squt etli wʾsittwasik wigwamek hidmowiw mʾsitte ta wut
kiswichitakw wʾskichin nittetch ettlositit squtek wela manch skat
apch teke yiwibmes-honwal. Nittlo wenikigowal ettlin mʾsitt woot
wigwamek nit kʾchi Sagem Kanawak. Nitte lakaloshigʾn naga hibis
hidmowiw wababi tebaskuswagʾnl. Tan woot pelsetek chewi mawe sagyawal
etli nʾsettwojik nit mʾsigekw kisittpiyak.
* * * * *
Nitte apch omach elok-hʾdinya hʾnʾwʾtlitunia apsegiguil
wʾtebaskuswagʾnowal. Mʾsioo yotʾl tebaskuswagʾnʾl chewi-littaswul
wababik. Wechich kiskittasik tan teppo elikimwittpiyak elnogak
mʾsittech yo naga elimilichpegek wapap. Yot wapap elyot sagmak naga
mʾitapeguinwuk naga nipwultimkil. Elok-hʾdimek tan etuchi metchmete
sagem naga elipuskenoot eli-mʾtakittmowatil mʾsitte wʾskichinwuk.
Wulasikowdowi wapap; wigwamkewi wapap.
[Illustration]
APPENDIX
THE WAMPUM RECORDS IN ENGLISH
Many bloody fights had been fought, many men, women and children had
been tortured by constant and cruel wars until some of the wise men
among the Indians began to think that something must be done, and
that whatever was to be done should be done quickly. They accordingly
sent messengers to all parts of the country, some going to the
South, others to the East, and others to the West and Northwest.
Some even went as far as the _Wabanaki_. It was many months before
the messengers reached the farthest tribes. When they arrived at
each nation, they notified the people that the great Indian nations
of the Iroquois, Mohawks and others had sent them to announce the
tidings of a great _Lagootwagon_ or general council for a treaty of
peace. Every Indian who heard the news rejoiced, because they were
all tired of the never-ending wars. Every tribe, therefore, sent
two or more of their cleverest men as representatives to the great
council.
* * * * *
When all the delegates were assembled they began to deliberate
concerning what was best to do, as they all seemed tired of their
evil lives. The leading Chief then spoke as follows: “As we look back
upon our bloodstained trail, we see that many wrongs have been done
by all of our people. Our gory tomahawks, clubs, bows and arrows must
undoubtedly be buried for ever.” It was decided, therefore, by all
concerned to make a general _Lagootwagon_ or treaty of peace, and a
day was appointed when they should begin the rites.
For seven days, from morning till night, a strict silence was
observed, during which each representative deliberated on the speech
he should make and tried to discover the best means for checking the
war. This was called the “Wigwam of Silence.”
* * * * *
After this they held another wigwam called _mʾsittakw-wen
tlewestoo_, or “Wigwam of Oratory.” The ceremonies then began. Each
representative recited the history of his nation, telling all the
cruelties, tortures and hardships they had suffered during their wars
and stating that the time had now come to think of and take pity
on their women and children, their lame and old, all of whom had
suffered equally with the strongest and bravest warriors. When all
the speeches had been delivered, it was decided to erect an extensive
fence and within it to build a large wigwam. In this wigwam, they
were to make a big fire and, having made a switch or whip, to place
“their father” as a guard over the wigwam with the whip in his hand.
If any of his children did wrong he was to punish them with the whip.
Every child of his within the enclosure must therefore obey his
orders implicitly. His duty also was to keep replenishing the fire in
the wigwam so that it should not go out. This is the origin of the
Wampum laws.
The fence typified a treaty of peace for all the Indian nations who
took part in the council, fourteen in number, of which there are
many tribes. All these were to go within the fence and dwell there,
and if any should do wrong they would be liable to punishment with
the whip at the hands of “their father.” The wigwam within the fence
represented a universal house for all the tribes, in which they
might live in peace, without disputes and quarrels, like members
of one family. The big fire (_ktchi squt_) in the wigwam denoted
the warmth of the brotherly love engendered in the Indians by their
treaty. The father ruling the wigwam was the Great Chief who lived at
Caughnawaga. The whip in his hand was the type of the Wampum laws,
disobedience to which was punishable by consent of all the tribes
mentioned in the treaty.
* * * * *
After this, they proceeded to make lesser laws, all of which were
to be recorded by means of wampum, in order that they could be read
to the Indians from time to time. Every feast, every ceremony,
therefore, has its own ritual in the wampum; such as the burial and
mourning rites after the death of a chief, the installation of a
chief, marriage, etc. There were also salutation and visiting wampum.
ELOK-HʾDIMʾK TAN ETUCHI MECHMETE SAGEM
Tan etuchi mechinet sagem omutlʾwaqulmʾnʾl chewi temitaha naga
nʾkikw-wakw-san. Mʾsitte tan kesiyit wʾtowegaknul wʾtchapyil
wʾtumhigen naga wʾmutewagʾn w’skichinwnk wʾnittagitmowawal
enguchi gʾdunweyin. Tan etuchi tepnasgoyak wʾskichinwuk wikwmania
pootwuswinoowo pootwuswinia wateplomania pili sagmal negootekmi
kataina wʾkislomowyil sagnial. Nitte eli kisi-mawekislootmootitits
nit opechitakaya kinwetaswinoo newunol kessena kaniachin begwitnol
hesgun elye Mikmakik, Kebeklo, Panwapskek Welastogok sagem teli
mechinet Pastemogatiek. Tan etuchi pechiyatit kinwettasijik
elyatit Mikmakik nitte mʾmittutil wechkiyak eguidin metenegnahasik
wʾkisin-setumenya kegw itmowio nitte sagem wʾmoweman oskmaknesum
wʾtiyan nit wechkoyak kegw nikt kinwut wechipechijik. Nit mʾsitte wen
wasisek naga epijik wʾskittapyik mʾtappyataswook wenachi asikwenya
malemte eguayik. Nitte peskw wʾgapetasin natuchio wʾthntowatmun
nʾskawewinto-wagʾnʾl. Nit wʾtali esui nʾskawan elamkigap wiyalit.
Malemte mechintoo nitte na yok wechiyojik peskw littposwin omilawiyan
nit na negum wʾtasitetunan wʾsiwesul na negum wʾwuskawan.
Malemte mʾsioo mechi nʾskaw-hʾtimek naga tuchioo omach yapasinya
imye-wigwamʾk wʾnaji-mawehimyanya. Malemtech apch kisi-myawletwuk
naga tuchioo lippan tanpunote wigwamʾk. Nit m’sioo wen pejit epijik
wasisek mʾsioo wʾtlapasinya wʾnaji-wʾlasikwawa sʾsikiptinenawa naga
na opummunya mʾtewegon tesagioo wigwamʾk etli wechiwetit nit naga
tojio hchi-yawiwul wʾskichin wutakewagʾnl.