Delaware

Weekwaum lawee kohpee Weekena withkeelno wauk wʾsheetha.

Afar in the midst of the forest Dwelt a youth and his uncle, His uncle of many summers. Once on a time the old man Was sick unto death with an illness Whose cause was unknown to himself And his nephew, his fond loving nephew. So, thinking the light of his being Was soon to go out, the old uncle Called to his bedside the young man To hear his last words of affection. The loving nephew grievèd, Grieved in the depths of his heart, Then thought to himself: “My dear uncle, At least shall not die on bare earth. I’ll make for him now a great basket And line it with soft, downy feathers. So shall he die in all comfort.” He worked all the night at the basket And then, when the morrow dawned, Presented his work to his uncle Who wept tears of gladness and said: “Dear nephew—how great is thy kindness!” The old man then lay in the basket And to him came a vision of dread; He stretched forth his hand to his nephew, A gesture to draw his attention, And then told the youth of his vision. Quoth: “Some one is coming at midnight From whom thou shalt shrink with great trembling, But fear not, take courage, my nephew, Although he shall come to our wigwam At midnight when all things are sleeping.”

That night, long after their supper, The youth sat him down by the fire, On the further side of the fire, And waited to see what was coming. Then all of a sudden a creature Too awful to tell of was with him, A wizard of hideous presence Who dropped through the smoke-hole a-shrieking: “Give up to me, youth, thine old uncle I wish to devour his lean flesh.” The youth gave not way to his terror But leapt to his feet and said boldly: “Foul being, mine uncle remains here And ne’er shall be eaten by thee.” Howled the wizard, the cannibal wizard: “When I come here once more have him ready, Rash lad, or thou dearly shalt rue it.”

Thought the youth in his heart: “He is awful. It must be that my uncle shall leave me. I will journey afar toward the sunset If perchance I may find there some people Who shall aid me in this my dire need.” Then the young man took leave of his uncle And said to him: “Fear not, beloved, I go to seek aid for thy sickness, Soon I’ll return to thy side.”

After journeying days through the forest He passed a small curious wigwam From which came a lad who addressed him: “Hail, stranger, how fareth thine uncle?” The youth was amazed beyond measure That one who appeared but an infant Should know all about his affairs, But he passed on in silence and wonder. Soon after he came to a wigwam Near which stood a great, kindly wizard, Who saw from the face of the traveller That he was in fear for his uncle.

Then when he heard how the nephew Had met with the terrible being, He said: “This in truth is Muttóntoe, Muttóntoe, the spirit of evil, Who yearns for the flesh of thy kinsman. But fear not, my lad, I will aid thee, I’ll tell thee the way to o’ercome him.”

When the nephew had heard all the wisdom And learned how to conquer Muttóntoe, He went back at once to his uncle. Then after they’d eaten that evening, He swept up the dirt from the wigwam And placed in his own bed the uncle. Then he lay himself in the basket, Where he felt himself filled full of magic And power to conquer Muttóntoe. At the dead hour of midnight Once more in the midst of the wigwam The monster dropped down through the smoke-hole. “Awake, lad,” quoth he, “I’m Muttóntoe. Bring forth thine old uncle, I want him.” Then out from the basket the nephew Stept boldly, all covered with feathers. A terrible sight to Muttóntoe, Who leapt with a shriek through the smoke-hole And never returned to that wigwam, Where the youth and his uncle, still living, Dwell happily in the dark forest. P.