Micmac

Piʾche ktagudimol.

All in the olden time, Or in the first of all, Of all things here on earth, Men were as animals And animals as men. But how this mystery was, No one can understand, Though some explain it thus: As Man was made the first, All creatures first were men, But as they gave themselves To this or that desire Like that of animals, And all their souls to it, So were they changed to brutes.

Yet ere this came to pass There was a middle time When they could change their forms To beasts or men at will; Yet more and more and more Even as men, they showed In all, the Animal.

Then Kulóskap the Great Lived on a wooded isle With many Indians Whose names and natures, too, Were all of beasts and birds.

These men, and most of all The one called Pulowech, The Partridge, had attained To certain magic power. These, as they found him great, Grew jealous of the Lord, He who was ever Man; And so they all resolved To leave him in the isle. But with them take away His grandmother, likewise Marten, the boy, who served The Master in his lodge. In Micmac Marten’s name Is Abistanēūch; he Was of the Elfin kind, One who could change his form To what he pleased. For all Relating to the Lord Was wonderful and strange.

This Marten ever ate From a small dish of bark Called Witchkwîdlakunchich. Whene’er he left this plate Kulóskap always knew The place where it was laid, And by a glance thereat Could tell whate’er had happed Unto his family. Kulóskap had, beside, A wondrous magic belt Which gave him endless strength And untold mystic power. Yet to increase his might, Even he, the Lord of Men, Must often all alone, Dwell in the wilderness, And fast and pray and dream, Until by penance strong He gained once more his power.

Among his enemies Who dwelt upon the isle, Was one named Winpe, who Of all was terrible; So he and all the rest, With Marten as a slave, Likewise the grandmother, One day when Kulóskap Was hunting in the North Got into their canoes With all their worldly gear, And sailed, far, far away.

Now when the Lord returned And saw that all were gone, He sought and found the dish Which Marten had concealed, And on it read the truth: How he had been deceived And whither all had fled.

Now, it is said, the Lord To gain tremendous power, Or such grand mastery As man had never won, Went to the wilderness, And there for seven years So trained his mighty mind By penance into will, That when the time was o’er He knew that he had won, And that no thing on earth No sorcerer nor fiend, Giant nor devil grim, Could now resist his power. So when the time had come He called his dogs, and went Down to the shore and looked Far o’er the rolling sea, And sang the magic song Which all the Whales obey. Soon in the distance rose A small dark spot, which grew In size as it drew near. ’Twas but a little whale; It came unto the Lord, But he was now a giant; He stepped upon the whale. It sank beneath his feet; He laughed and said, “Begone! Thou art too small for me!”

He sang again the song, But now with all his power; And then there came the Queen Of all the whales, and she Was as a giantess Even among her kind; She bore him easily Unto Kespūgitk, then She paused and said, “O Lord! I dare not further go, For I shall run ashore.” And this he wished because He would not wet his feet, And so he lied and said: “The land is far away.” So she went boldly on, Till she beheld below, The bottom of the sea With many shells on it; And then she said in fear: “The land, does it not seem To thee like a bow-string?” “No!” He answered, “Land is far.”

The water grew so shoal That soon she heard the song Of many Clams, who lay Deep shelled below the sand. They were the enemies Of Kulóskap the Man, Their only enemy, And so they sang to her: “Hasten and throw him off, And drown him in the sea.” But great Putúp the whale Who did not know their tongue, Asked what the words might mean? And he replied in song “They tell you to make haste; Nenagimk, ’to hurry’; To hurry, to hurry along, Away—as fast as you can.”

The whale like lightning flew Until she found herself High up upon the shore, Then she, too, cried in woe: “Alas, alas! Nujich! My grandchild, you have been My death at last—for now I cannot leave the land; I shall swim in the sea no more!”

But Kulóskap answered her: “Nʾgumi, have no fear! You shall not suffer, for You shall swim in the sea once more.” Then with a push of his bow Against her head, he sent The whale into the sea, Into the deep once more.

And then the whale rejoiced, But ere she went she said: “O darling grandson mine! O Master! Hast thou not Tobacco in thy pouch, Therewith a pipe to spare?” And he replied, “Ah yes! I see you want a smoke, I have what you require.”

He gave the whale a pipe, Tobacco and a light And so she sailed away Rejoicing as she went, A-smoking as she swam; While Kulóskap, the Lord, Leaning upon his bow Beheld the long low cloud Which trailed behind her, till She vanished far away.

So to this very day, The Indians, when they see A whale who blows, cry out: “Behold, it smokes a pipe, The pipe of Kulóskap.”

And so the Lord went on, Meeting at every step Adventures wild and strange; Witches and sorcerers Sought to delay his steps, Until at last he came To Uktâkumkuk, or Néwfoundland, where his foes Had been, then fled away.

Again he sang his song, And once again a whale Carried him far away, Away unto the North; And now he found indeed That he had gained his end, Since by the shore he saw A wigwam, and therein His sorrowing grandmother And Marten well-nigh dead; Winpe the sorcerer Had treated them full ill. Greatly did they rejoice To see their Lord once more; And then Kulóskap said: “When Winpe shall return Do all that’s in your power To irritate the man To make him mad with wrath; So shall he lose his power, For anger weakeneth will.”

They did what he required When Winpe came again, Till in a roaring rage He sought to take their lives; When lo! before their eyes The Master stood and gazed In aspect terrible, Upon his angry foe. Winpe fell back a pace To gain once more his power; It came and it was great. With all his evil will The sorcerer raised his strength And as it came he grew In giant stature, till His head was o’er the pines; And truly in those days The pines were higher far Than those we have to-day:

But Kulóskap the Great The Lord of Men and Beasts, Laughed as the thunder roars. And grew until his head Was far above the clouds, Until he reached the stars, And ever higher still, Till Winpe seemed to be A child beneath his feet.

Then, holding him in scorn, Kulóskap the great lord Smote Winpe with his bow As one might strike a dog; Down fell the sorcerer dead!