Abenaki

Noñwat Manoñuamasak Udainoñ kwaʿliwi kd-odana-na.

Long ago some River-elves were living near our town. These Elves would always work at night along the river shore, And fashion little wheels of clay and leave them on the bank. When these small cakes of clay were fresh some Indians there were Who learned to eat them and to take great pleasure in their taste. In ancient times—this is the tale which oft was told to me— An Indian and squaw were out afar in bark canoe When in the current’s swirling waves they right before them saw A wee canoe in which there sat two children, as they thought. Now these were hideous River-elves, and when they had beheld The Indians, they called to them: “O ye of fairer face And better looks go back,” and then tipped over their canoe, Which, as it rolled, the Indians perceived to be of stone, And nevermore thereafter did they see the River-elves, Who when the loud-voiced Whites had settled all the country-side, Withdrew far up the rushing stream where no canoe may pass Save only stone ones. Nor again did ever Indian find Those wheels of clay which he of old so dearly loved to eat. P.