Micmac and Passamaquoddy

Nekke meiawet nektuk Piliomeskasik ktakʾmigw otlian Pikto.

When the Master left Uktâkumkûk, Called by the English Néwfoundlánd, He went to Piktook or Pictou, Which means “the rising of bubbles,” Because at that place the water Is ever strangely moving. There he found an Indian village And in the village a man Whom he loved through all his life.

Yet it was not because this man, Whose name in Micmac is Mikchik And in our Passamaquoddy Chikwenóchk “the Turtle,” Was great or well favored or rich; He was truly none of these, Being very poor and lazy, No longer young or lively, Nor in any way clever or wise. It is said he was the uncle Of Kulóskap, but many declare It was only by adoption. However, he always bore His trials with such good nature, His wants with such merry patience, That the Master took strangely to him With most unwonted affection, As if he had determined To make of the idler a man; Which verily came to pass Quite soon, and very quaintly, As you shall presently hear. When he came to Piktook, A town of a hundred wigwams, Kulóskap being a handsome And very stately warrior With the air of a great chief, Was greatly admired by all, Especially the women; So that every one felt honored Whose wigwam he deigned to enter; Yet he saw the folk very seldom, And dwelt with old uncle Mikchik Delighting in his fancies, Quaint ways and old time stories, Very old songs of the fathers; Such things were the joy of his heart.

Now ’twas the time for holding The great and yearly feast With dancing and merry games; But Kulóskap cared not to go As guest or as performer. However, he asked his uncle, “Wilt thou not go to the feast? All the fair girls of the forest, All the beautiful matrons, All the bewitching widows From far and wide will be there; Why hast thou never married? There are many nice women a-waiting, ’Tis evil living alone.”

Thus answered Uncle Turtle: “I am poor and old and homely, With no garments fit for a feast; Therefore ’tis better for me To smoke my pipe at home.”

“Well, if that be the only hindrance, Uncle,” replied the Master, “I can turn tailor I trow, And fit you to a turn— Fit you as if by magic, Or in fact by magic itself; Therefore have thou no care As to your face or outside, For to him who hath the art ’Tis as easy to make a man over As any suit of clothes.”

“That may be true, my nephew,” Quoth Turtle, “but what say you, As to the making over The inside of a mortal?”

“By Kwâbît the immortal Beaver!” Replied the Master, laughing, “That is something harder to do, Else I were not at work So long in this world of ours. Yet, ere I leave this town For you I will do that also. As for this present sport, Do but put on this belt.”

And when he wore the girdle Mikchik became so young And so bewitchingly handsome That never a man or woman In the land had seen the like; And as the Master arrayed him In garments of great splendor, He also gave him his word That, as a man, he ever Should be of men the comeliest, And as animal, hardest to kill, Most vital and enduring, As it truly came to pass. So Mikchik went to the feast.

Now the chieftain of the Piktook Had three very beautiful daughters, And of the three, the youngest Was the loveliest in the land. On her the old-young turtle Cast his experienced eyes With a boy-like, innocent look, And said, “I think that damsel Would exactly suit my complaint, And therefore I think I will take her!”

Now all the young men in Piktook Were of just the same opinion, And all were firmly resolved To kill the one who should win her.

So the next day the Master, Taking a bunch of wâbab, That is, of the finest wampum, Went to the chief of the Piktook Proposing that his uncle Should marry the youngest daughter. And truly the chief was willing, While the mother at once cried, “Yes!” To such a grand proposal; So, without loss of time, The maiden swept out a wigwam, And made a bed of sprays, Or of leaves, upon the floor, Spreading out a great white bear skin As a cover over all. Then with Mikchik and the Master They had dried meat for supper, And so the pair were wed.

Now the Turtle seemed very lazy, And for days after they were married While other men were hunting He lounged about at home Smoking over the fire, Till one frosty, sunny morning, His wife said to him, “Mikchik, If this goes on much longer We two must certainly starve.” So he put on his snow-shoes, Taking his bow and arrows, And she followed silently after To see what he would do. But in truth he did very little, For he had not gone far forward Ere he tripped and fell rolling over. And the wife, returning disgusted, Said in a rage to her mother: “He is not in the least a hunter. He can’t even walk on snow-shoes.” But the mother said: “Be patient, There is more in him than you dream.”

One day it came to pass That the Master said to Mikchik “To-morrow will be held The very great yearly ball-play And you must share in the game. It will be sore for you, A game of life and death, For all the young men who live here Are your enemies, and will seek To slay you in the rush By crowding close together, And trampling you under foot. But when they do this, ’twill be Close by the Sagamore’s lodge, And that you may escape them I give you, Uncle, the power To jump twice over the roof; But if they chance to bring it To a third attempt, ’twill be A very terrible thing for you, And yet it must come to pass; ‘No honey without a sting; No chase, no venison.’”

And all of it came to pass As the Master had foretold; For the young men of the village All joined to kill the Turtle, And to escape them, Mikchik Jumped, when beset, so high Over the Sagamore’s lodge That he looked like an eagle flying. But when for a third time he Attempted another leap, His scalp-lock caught on a pole, And there he hung a-dangling In the smoke which rose from below.

Then Kulóskap, who was sitting On a skin in the tent beneath, Said: “Uncle the hour is come, Now will I make thee Sagem, Grand Sagamore of the Tortoise, The chief of the Lenni Lenâbe; Thou shalt bear up a great nation Which shall rest upon thy shell!”

Then he smoked Mikchik so long That his skin became a shell, A very hard round shell, And the marks of the smoke from the pipe May be seen thereon to-day. And of all his entrails he left But one which was very short, And then indeed Mikchik Seeing himself so reduced Cried out, “Beloved nephew, You will kill me certainly!” But the Lord replied, “Far from it, I am giving you longer life— A longer life than is given To any other on earth; From this time forth, my uncle, You may pass through a glowing fire, And never feel its breath, You may live on land or in water, Nay, though your head be cut off It will live for nine days after, And even so long shall beat Your heart when cut from your body.” Whereat Mikchik rejoiced.

And this came, indeed, betimes, And not before it was needed; For on the very next day All of the men went hunting, And the Master warned the Turtle That they would attempt his life. So the men all went before, While the Turtle toiled slowly behind them; But when they saw him no more, He made a magic flight Far over their heads, and deep In the forest he slew a moose, He drew it upon the track Which he knew that they soon must take; And when his foes came up, There he sat on the moose Smoking, and waiting for them.

Now Kulóskap the Wise Had unto them foretold That on that day they would see Some one come out as first Who they thought would be last of all. And when this came to pass, They were more enraged than before, And so they planned again To kill Mikchik, but his nephew Who was on the point of leaving The village and all therein, Told him how it would be.

“First of all, my uncle, They will build a mighty fire, And throw you into the flame, But endure it, and with joy; For by my magic power I will see that it does no harm. Only beg as a dying favor Not to be cast into water, Into the water to drown, Beg and implore and entreat them To spare thee that terrible torture, Yes, fight to the bitter end; So will they certainly do it, And so it shall come to pass.” Then he bade farewell to the Turtle, And they built up a blazing fire And threw him at once into it; Wherein, being very lazy, He turned over and went to sleep, And when the fire burned low He called for more wood to rebuild it Because it was bitterly cold.

Then they all called out, “Let us drown him!” But hearing this, as in terror He implored them not to do it. “Cut me to pieces,” he said, “Burn me again, or stab me, But do not, I beg you, throw me Into the water to drown!”

Therefore they swore they would drown him, And dragged him down to the shore; He screamed like a mad magician, And fought like a wolverine, Tearing up trees and roots, Rending the rocks like a tempest; Yet at length they overpowered him, And took him in a canoe To the middle of the lake And throwing him in they watched him, Watched him as he was sinking Till he vanished far down below; And thinking him surely dead Returned to their homes rejoicing.

Now on the next day at noon There was a glowing sunshine, And something was seen basking Upon a great flat rock About a mile from the shore. So two of the younger men Took a canoe and went forth To see what this might be. And when they came to the rock Just hanging over the water, Whom should they see but Mikchik A-dozing in the sunlight! But, seeing them coming to take him, He only said “Good-bye!” And rolled over into the lake Wherein it is said he is living Unto this very day. So in memory of this thing, All turtles in swamps or rivers When they see a man a-coming Tip-tilt them into the water With a plump! which means “Good-bye!”— Or which sounds like it in Indian— As their ancestor did of yore.

The Turtle lived with his wife Happily, long and contented. Then it happened in after years That Kulóskap came one day To visit his uncle, and saw A babe which uttered a word. As ’twere in a childish cry: “Knowest thou what he is saying?” Inquired the Master smiling. “Truly not I,” said Mikchik, “For I deem it is in the language Which is spoken by the demons Or spirits of the air, Which ’tis said no mortal knoweth.” “Well, I think,” replied Kulóskap, “That he is talking of eggs For he cries ‘Huwâh, Huwâh’ As if he were trying to say Wâhwun—which means an egg In the Passamaquoddy tongue.” “But where are eggs to be found?” Inquired the uncle amazed. “Seek in the sand,” said the Master, Where he sought and found full many And greatly he marvelled at them. In memory of which and the Master, All the female turtles Lay eggs to this very day. L.