Passamaquoddy

Kulóskap wtiwaspʾnil nequt Otloketmul nʾmokswesul.

All of the olden time, All in a year it befell That Kulóskap had a foe: A very evil man, A very sinful beast, A very vile magician, Who after he had tried A hundred tricks in vain Took on the form of a snake, A serpent of awful size, In hope to kill the Lord.

Now the Master had a boy His faithful servitor, Nʾmokswes or the Sable; A boy of elfin kind Who played the magic flute Wherewith he could entice All birds and animals To come to him, when they Once heard its wondrous sound.

It happened on a time When Kulóskap was afar, The Sable broke his flute, And, deeply crushed with grief, Would not return again, But wandered far away Into the wilderness. And all of this the Lord Knew well—for by his art He knew when aught went wrong Pertaining to himself. Then, when returned, he asked The old, old grandmother Where Sable was? but she Could only weep. And then, The Master said: “I’ll roam Forever if I must, But I will find the boy.”

So he went forth, resolved, Following Sable’s trail, And tracked him through the snow, Three days and nights, and then Heard some one sing afar; It was the magic song Which sorcerers only sing When in the direst need, And death is drawing near. So, circling round the place, Kulóskap looked adown, And saw a lodge, and heard The voice distinctly sound, As he grew nearer; it Was Sable’s wondrous voice; Then heard him sing a curse Against all serpent kind, And he was wandering About the place to seek A stick, extremely straight.

The Master understood What this all meant: how that Sable had been enticed Into the wilderness By Atoʾsis the Snake, And that the Serpent-chief Was in the lodge, and he Had sent the Sable forth To seek a long straight rod For evil magic deeds. Then, softly singing, he Bade Sable disobey, And get a crooked stick, As twisted as could be, And told him carefully What more he was to do.

Then Sable found in fact A very rugged rod, As twisted as a worm, When it is wounded; then As he came in, the Snake Cried out, amazed and wroth, “How hast thou dared to bring To me a stick like that?” But Sable, answering, Replied, “It is not straight, But what is crookedest May be the straightest made, And I do know a charm Whereby this may be done; I will but heat this stick A little in the fire, And sing the proper spell And then it shall be straight.”

Now Atoʾsis the Snake, Like all the crafty folk, Was very curious And so looked closely on. But Sable, when the stick Was burning, or red hot, Thrust it into his eyes; (It had a forked end) Utterly blinding him; Then headlong rushed away.

The serpent followed him, But, even as he left The wigwam, there he met The Master, who forthwith Struck him a mighty blow And slew him out of hand; Of old times this befell— And thus my story ends.