Passamaquoddy and Micmac

Nequt Kulóskap meiaoet Pechian kʾtakʾmikomnok. Nit kʾmʾtkinansnok Neke bʾsʾnboek kʾchî Kiwaʿkwik.

When Kulóskap the Master Came into this world of ours, Or the Land of the Wabanaki, It was full of giants and monsters, Sorcerers, dwarfs and demons, Mighty beasts and men, Fiends and the Indian devils, And, worst of all, the witches, And worst among them Pûjinskwes, A word which means “The Pitcher.”

She could be fair when she would, Fair as a rosy sky With stars still beaming in it In very early dawn; Or terrible as a storm, When it howls among the mountains, And lightens in the midnight.

Now while the Master was young, And had not gained the power Which he won in riper age, Pûjinskwes sought his love. But he knew that she was evil, So he fled away from her wooing, And the wild-cat witch pursued him. It was a dreadful flight, Since to make their steps the longer Both took the giant form, Took it by magic power.

It was an awful storm, A terrible storm in winter When the wind is chasing the clouds; It was like a frightful tempest In summer when the lightning Chases after the thunder. Deep lay the snow on the earth; Therefore they both wore snow-shoes; But, when they came to the shore, Kulóskap leaped from the mainland Over the sea between To the island of Grand Manan; And so he escaped from the sorceress; For the shoes which the Master wore Were round and out of the common; While those of the witch were long, Long it is said and pointed, And the marks of the two are still To be seen deep pressed in the rocks By the shore to this very day.

But for days and years thereafter Pûjinskwes sought to slay him, And she had terrible power, The might of the Evil Witches Which came from the early time.

Now ’tis the greater part Of the Indian art of magic To know what our foes are planning, Planning and plotting against us, And all their tricks and devices Which they scheme in the darkened paths, The darkened paths of Evil. In knowing this, Kulóskap Was the greatest and the first, And, knowing new arts of magic, Went far beyond them all. For before his time all sorcerers Went every one his way Unheeding the ways of others, Even in wickedness. But Kulóskap first of all Threw out his soul unto others To find what others knew.

When the Lord was on the warpath Seeking the sorcerer Winpe Who had carried away his household, He came to Ogomkeok Where he found a great birch wigwam, And, in the wigwam seated Bending over a fire, A strange old woman—a horror Of all old hags and ugliest— Trembling in every limb, As if death stood at her elbow, Dirty, ragged and loathsome, He never had seen the like.

Then looking up at the Master With bleared and pitiful stare, She begged him to bring some fire-wood Which he did indeed, while knowing Who it was who was so disguised, For he knew it was Pûjinskwes And he laughed at her in his heart.

Then she said to him, “O stranger, As thou art a man of mercy, Pray free me from the waagûkw From the monstrous terrible vermin Which madden me by their bites!” Now all the waagûkw were devils, The spirits of every poison, Which she thought had such a power As must even kill the Master.

But he foreseeing this Had taken as he came Cranberries from a swamp, And bidding her bend over, He took the imps from her hair, And every one as he took it Turned into a porcupine, Or else a terrible toad. When she asked him, “Have you found one?” And, “I have,” replied the Master; Then, “Crush it,” was her answer, So then he crushed a berry, And Pûjinskwes, hearing the sound, Thought to herself: “The poison Which is now upon his fingers Will soon be in his heart, And death will follow after.”

But Kulóskap put the devils One by one as he found them Under a wooden platter Which was lying close beside him. And as he did this he chanted A song which put her to sleep, A song of wonderful power. So she slept until the morrow And when she awoke, the Master Was far away, and her devils, Porcupines, toads and all, Were swarming over the floor, For they had upset the platter. Then she was filled with fury To think he despised her so That he had not even cared To kill her while a-sleeping. Then she burst forth in madness, Wild as the Indian devil Forth in her own true figure As beautiful as sin, Wild as the wolverine; And gathering up her imps, And summoning all her power Of magic by fiercer will, Went forth to meet the Master.

Onward he went to the North Till he came to a pass in the hills. It was a great ravine Wherein two monstrous beasts Waylaid all travellers And tore them limb from limb. Straight at his dogs they flew; He did but touch the dogs, And speak a word of power, When up they grew to size Stupendous, so they seized The beasts e’en as the wolf Seizes a rabbit. Then The fight was at an end. These dogs had been so trained That when called off they fought More fiercely than before, And when told not to bite They ever bit the more.

Soon he came to the top Of a high hill, and looking Afar o’er all the land Beheld, away in the distance, A wigwam, and knew in his heart That an enemy dwelt therein; And coming to it he found An old woman with two fair daughters. But he knew at a glance that the mother Was a witch among the witches, And the one who sought his life.

The girls came to him greeting With fond and pleasing glances, Asking if he was hungry, And offering him a dainty: The entrails of a bear Which, when turned and smoked and seasoned, Are deemed by all delicious. They are a common gift Of Indian girls to their lovers, For, when cast around the neck As a necklace, it means “I love you.” But these had been enchanted, Poisoned by magic spells; Had the Master taken them then He would have lost his power.

Little they knew of the magic, The new and wonderful magic Of reading the thoughts of men, Which the Lord had brought into the land, Unknown to the witches of yore; So as they came wooing round him With smiles and wanton glances, He smiled, as if all he wanted Of them, was to be won! So he took the gift which they offered, But, instead of putting it on, Cried out to his dogs, “Cuss! cuss!” Which in Micmac means “Stop, stop!” But which they had been trained to believe Was, “Hie at them!” They flew at the witches When both flashed up like fire In the terrible form of devils, As flaming female fiends. Then came an awful tumult Such as never before was seen In the land of the Wabanâki; All the earth and rocks around Were rent in the dreadful tumult And all the while the Master Cried merrily to his dogs: “Stop, stop! These are my sisters, Let them alone! Be quiet!” But the more he bade them be peaceful The more they attacked the witches And drove them at last away.

Then the Master entered the wigwam Where Pûjinskwes sat waiting, Waiting for him as dead, Waiting for him as food. So he said to her while smiling, “Grandmother, are you hungry? Do you love the links of a bear? Then here are some.” He threw them Around her neck and she died, Died and became a devil. Yet the sorcerers when devils Ever rise to life again; Ever rise to work men mischief, For evil can never die.

Then the Master kept on his way Till he met the giant Winpe— The evil sorcerer Winpe Whom he slew in terrible battle. This is the song of the Micmacs, Of the Master’s earlier deeds.