Micmac

Kes saak; kes saak.

All of the olden time. Now when ’twas noised abroad That whoever sought the Master Could obtain the wish of his heart, There were three men who said: “Let us seek the Lord and see If this be truly so.” So they left their home in the spring When the bluebird began his song, And walked till the autumn frosts, And then into the winter, Ever steadily onward Till the next midsummer came; And being in a forest They found a winding path Which they followed till they came To a very beautiful river Which led to a great fair lake; And still they kept to the path, Yet where it failed, the trees Were blazed, or the bark removed On the side of the trunk, but ever Opposite to the place Where the wigwam or village lies Towards which the pathway leads, So the mark can aye be seen As the traveller goes to the goal, But not while leaving it.

Then after a time they came To a long point of land Which ran into the lake, Where, having climbed a hill, They saw in the distance smoke; Guided by this they came To a large and beautiful hut; And entering it they found, Seated upon the right, A handsome stately man Like a chief of middle age, And on the left a woman, So old and so decrepit That it seemed as if a century Or more had made her life; And opposite the door Was a mat which seemed to show That some other had there a place.

And the Master made them welcome And spoke as if he were Well pleased to see them there, But asked not whence they came, Or whither they were going, As others are wont to do.

Ere long they heard the sound As of a paddle outside, And the noise of a canoe When it is drawn ashore.

Then in there came a youth Of beautiful form and features, Well clad and bearing weapons As if returned from the chase; Who addressed the woman Kejû! Which is in the Micmac, “Mother;” And told her he had game. So then, with sore ado, For she was very weak, The old dame tottered out And brought in one by one Four beavers; but she had Such trouble to cut them up, That the elder of the pilgrims Said to the youngest, “Nchígŭnŭm! My brother—do thou the work.”

And so they supped on beaver, And then they stayed for a week, Resting themselves in comfort, For all were sadly worn, And also utterly ragged; But then there came to pass A wonderful thing which showed That they were in fairy land, For the master said to the youth, “Go wash the mother’s face!” He did so—when all her wrinkles Vanished, and she became Very young and fair: The travellers had never In all their lives beheld A maid so beautiful: Her hair, once white and scanty, Now hung to her very feet, It was as dark and glossy As any blackbird’s breast; And, clad in fine array, She showed a tall lithe form, Graceful, in all points perfect.

Then the travellers said to themselves, “Truly this Sagamore is A very great magician.” With him they all walked forth To see the place where he dwelt, They never had felt the sunshine So soft and so sweetly tempered By a cooling gentle breeze; For all in that land was fair, And day by day grew fairer To all who dwelt therein: Tall trees, with richest leafage And many fragrant flowers, Grew everywhere in groves Without any lower limbs, And clear of underbrush, Wide as a forest; yet The eye could pierce the distance In any or every way.

Now when for the first time They felt that they had come Into another life, An ever-enchanted land, The Master gently questioned And asked them whence they came, And what it was they sought; They said they sought Kulóskap, And he answered, “I am he!”

Then they were awed by his presence, For now a wondrous glory And majesty showed in him. For as the woman had changed, So he, and he seemed divine.

Then the elder pilgrim said: “Lo, I am a wicked man Accursed with furious moods, Given to wrath and reviling; Yet I would fain be gentle, Pious and meek and good.”

And the second said: “I am poor, My life is very hard, And, though I toil unceasing, I can barely make a living, And I would fain be rich.”

And the third replied, “Though proud, I am of low estate, Being despised and scorned, While I long to be respected And loved by every one.”

And to all of these the Master Made answer, “So shall it be!”

Then, taking from his belt His powerful upsinai, That is his medicine-bag, He gave unto each Indian A little box and bade him Keep it well closed, nor heed it Till he should reach his home. Then he led them to the wigwam And gave them all new garments, Exceedingly rich apparel, The like of which the pilgrims Had never seen before.

Then, when it was time to depart, Since they knew not the way Unto their home, he rose And went with them for a distance. A year had they been in coming, But having put on his belt He led them and they followed, Till, ere the afternoon, He took them to the top Of a lofty mountain, from which Afar off they beheld Another, whose outline blue Rose lofty o’er the plain. Yet it seemed so far away They thought ’twould be a week Ere they should gain its top, But the Master led them on, And in the afternoon Of the day when they first beheld it, Lo, they were on the summit! And looking from this afar, All seemed familiar to them: The plains and hills and river, And wood and dale and valley— It was their native land! “And there,” said the Master to them “There lies your village home.”

So he left them on the mountain, And they went on their way. Before the sun had set They were among their people, Each by his wigwam fire; At first sight no one knew them, Because of a wondrous change; The like of their fair attire Had never in those days Been seen by any man. But when they made themselves known, All gathered round to behold them, In wonder or silent awe, Or to listen to their adventures, And truly all were amazed.

Then each man opened his box, And found therein an unguent Exceedingly rich and fragrant, With which they rubbed themselves From head to foot completely. And always from that day The three smelt so divinely That all who could draw near them Were ever in delight; And happy were the Indians Who could get a single whiff Of that celestial fragrance Spread by them all around!

Now he who had been despised For his deformity, Leanness, weakness, and meanness, Became as grand and stately, As beautiful and graceful, As the fairest pine of the forest; There was in all the land No man so much admired, And his people were proud of him.

He who desired abundance, Had it in fullest measure, The wild deer came to his arrows, The fish leaped into his nets; As he gave freely to all, All gave as freely to him.

And he who had been wicked, Hasty and wild and cruel, Became as meek and gentle, Calm and ever forbearing Making others like himself; He had ever a blessing on him, As there ever is upon those Who make their wishes with wisdom, For such folk shall be happy Unto the end of their days.