Abenaki

Noñwat nd-odananok Mʾsalok mdaulinʾwak.

Long, long years ago When wizards were not few There happened near our town A war of which I’ll tell. One day a wizard wise Sought counsel from the gods, And entered in the hut They knew as petegwîgun— A round-house made of bark, With opening above; No door nor window there Save only at the top Through which the wizard climbed, And, lying there in trance, Saw all the foemen’s wiles. Then, singing magic songs, Forth from that hut he came And ordered all the tribe To rise and meet the foe, The cruel Mohawk foe, Encamped not far away. So all the Indian braves Embarked in their canoes, Went down one stream, then up Another, paddling soft, Avoiding any sound. At last they saw a smoke Arising far away. Then spake the wizard thus: “Do ye all wait me here And I will go and spy The numbers of the foe, Taking with me but one; Another Indian brave Who hath the magic gift.” These wizards then withdrew Into a thicket’s shade, Whence suddenly emerged In beaver’s guise the one, In muskrat form his friend. When they drew very near The island where the foe, The cruel Iroquois, Were feasting on a moose, The beaver and the rat Dived deep beneath the stream, Causing that sudden plash Which even to this day Makes many a hunter jump. Among the Iroquois Another wizard sat And when he heard the plash Quoth he: “The foe is there, The fierce Abenakis.” Then, grasping in his hand, The legbone of a moose, He flung it straight and far To where the muskrat swam And struck him on the head. The beaver seized his friend And drew him ’neath the stream And held him till he drowned, In order that his pains And struggle for his life Should not alarm the foe. The Iroquois then rose And danced around the fire Thinking in hideous glee Of how when morrow came They’d torture all their foes.

They then lay down to sleep. At once the beaver swam To shore to their canoes And gnawed with his sharp teeth Great holes in the birch bark Of which these craft were made. The wizard beaver then Swam back to his own folk To whom he said: “Arise, Come, quickly hunt them out.” The fierce Abenakis Came stealthily and still And landed on the isle Where lay the Iroquois. Then, whooping with the cry Of war which chills the soul, The fierce Abenakis Awoke the Iroquois Who, paralyzed with fright, Rushed straight to their canoes Which sank in mid-stream all— The work of wizard teeth.

Then the Abenakis Swooped down with horrid cries And then slew all their foes Save only two. I’ll tell What ’twas they did to them. Of all their slaughtered foes They first cut off the heads And stuck them up on stakes All over that fair isle. Then to their prisoners Whom they had saved alive, They gave a little thought. So first they bound them fast Then pried with cruel sticks Their mouths till open wide; Cut off their lower lips, Showing the grinning teeth, Then severing half their ears And half their noses too, They said to them in scorn: “Kdihleba nda mina Ni nojimigahakw:” “We warn you now, my friends, Do not attempt again To come against us here.” This was the way they marked The prisoners in old days.

Then they gave them food Enough to give them life Upon the journey home, In order that these maimed And harshly usèd foes Should tell the Iroquois In northern forest far That the Abenakis Were mightier than they.

That island to this day Is called the Place of Skulls, Wdupsek in our tongue. P.