Passamaquoddy

Yut nit nʾkani akʾnodʾmâgon Uch Kulóskap elaknotmotits piche.

Wonderful traditions Of the olden time; Very old indeed, Ere the world began:

The great lord Kulóskap Who in after days Was worshipped everywhere By the Wabanaki Or Children of the Dawn, Was as yet unborn, Living as a twin With another named Malsumsis—the Wolf. Wolf, the lesser one, As his brother was good So was this one bad; One, the Lord of Light, One, of Darkness dire.

Now ere they were born, The two a council held That they might decide How they would be born. And Kulóskap said: “I shall be content If I may come to life Even as others come.” But Malsum, the Wolf, Said: “Just as you will; But I am too great E’er to see the light As common creatures do; I will burst to light Rending everything E’en through death to life.”

So it came to pass Kulóskap, the Lord, Came in peace to light; Malsum kept his word, And the mother died.

So the two grew up, Till one day the Wolf, Who knew that both were given Strange mysterious lives Charmed ’gainst everything Save one concealèd death, Asked of the elder what His hidden bane might be?

Then the wise Kulóskap Thought how when he was born Malsumsis in his pride Had slain his mother; And he said: “If Wolf knew The secret of my life, That life would soon be o’er.” And therefore he agreed To tell Malsum the Wolf The secret of his death, If he the younger born Would tell him in return The secret of his own.

Therefore the elder said, To test his brother’s truth: “The feather of an owl Is the one thing on earth Which e’er can end my life.” In sooth, this was a lie Although no evil one, And yet from uttering it Kulóskap got his name Which means the Liar, or, As Indians mean the word: A wise and crafty man.

And then it came to pass That in the after-days Kwâbîtsis the son Of the Great Beaver, or As others tell the tale Miʿko the squirrel, or else The very devil himself Who dwelt within his heart, Tempted Malsum to slay His brother Kulóskap; For in those early days All men were wicked—all Lived but in evil deeds.

So Malsum took his bow And, stealing through the woods Into his dark retreat, Shot Koʿkoʿkhas, the owl, And with his feathers struck Kulóskap while asleep.

Up leaped the Lord enraged, Yet even in his wrath He spoke right craftily: “Thou ever evil One! Thou murderer of all! Know that no feather can E’er take my life. ’Tis by A pine-root and a blow That I am doomed to die, By that, and that alone.”

So on another day When both together went A-hunting in the woods Kulóskap laid him down To sleep upon the leaves Where all was very still; Then Malsum, ever bent On evil and on death, With a great pine-tree root Smote with his giant strength His brother on the head. Up leapt the Lord again Unharmèd as before, And drove the Wolf away, Away in bitter scorn, Away into the woods.

Then sitting by a brook He saw the flowering rush, Or cat-tail, in the stream— Of all the plants on earth The weakest, softest thing— And said unto himself, Although he spoke aloud: “What soul would ever dream That in that plant abides The secret of my death?”

The Beaver who lay hid Deep down among the reeds. Heard what the Lord had said, And hastening to Malsumsis Told him the whole. For this Malsum had freely sworn To give the Beaver aught Or all that he might wish.

But when the Beaver asked For wings, that he might fly Even as pigeons do, Malsum replied in scorn, And laughing from his heart: “Thou with a sorry tail Like any rugged rasp, What need hast thou of wings! Mud-scraper! Get thee gone!”

In a bitter rage Forth the Beaver ran, Ran by night and day, Till he found the Lord, Kulóskap the Wise, Unto whom he told All that he had done, Sorrowing that he Had so evil been, Sorrowing that he Had ever heard and told The secret of his life. Then in sorrow too, And yet in anger grim, Up the Lord arose, Rose all in his might, And plucking up a fern, Sought in the deep dark wood For Malsumsis the Wolf: And having found him there Smote him a single blow; Down fell the demon dead.

Then Kulóskap sang a song, Lamenting for the dead; Though ever unto him He had so evil been, And as a bitter foe Had sought to end his life; Sung over him a song, Then homewards went his way. L.