Passamaquoddy and Micmac

Kulóskap nitamk naga nit kʾchi pechies Yut kilun kʾmʾt-kinansnok.

Kulóskap was first, First and greatest, To come into our land— Into Nova Scotia, Canada, Into Maine, into Wabanaki, The land of sunrise, or light.

There were no Indians like us, Here in those early days; Only far in the West Lived red men strange and wild.

First born were the Miʿkumwessuk The fairies of the forest, The Wʾnâgʾmeswuk, elves, The little men, dwellers in rocks.

Thus it was Kulóskap the Great Made man: He took his arrows And shot at a tree—the ash, Known as the basket-tree.

From the hole made by the arrow Came forth new forms, and these Were the first of human kind. And so the Lord gave them a name Meaning “those born from trees.”

Kulóskap the Lord of Light Made all the animals. First, he created All of giant size; Such was the beginning. Then he said to Teâm, the Moose, Who was tall as the Kiwaʿkw, The colossal giant of the mountain, The awful king of the forest, The lord of the roaring river: “What wouldst thou do, Teâm, Shouldst thou see man a-coming?” Answered the monstrous Teâm, “I would tear the trees down on him.” Then the Lord Kulóskap Saw that the Moose was too strong; So he made him smaller and weaker So that the Indians could kill him.

Even so with the Squirrel Who was as large in those days As the great wolf in our time; “What would you do, Sâkskadu?” Asked the Lord of Beasts and Men, “If you should meet an Indian?” “I would scratch up trees by their roots That they might fall upon him.” Answered the Squirrel undaunted. “Thou also art far too strong,” Replied the mighty Master; So he smoothed him down in his hands, And, as he was smoothed, the Squirrel Grew ever smaller and smaller, Till he was as we see him now.

Then he asked the Great White Bear: “And thou, Kʾchî Mūʾūin! What wouldst thou do if ever A man should come in thy way?” And the Bear replied: “I would eat him.” Then the Master bade him go And live among rocks and ice, Very far away in the North, Where he would see no Indians. And there he is ever in snow.

So Kulóskap the Great, Lord of all things that are, Did question all the beasts, Changing their size or strength, Or measuring out their lives, According to their answers.

He took the Loon for his hunter To serve him as a dog; But the Loon was often absent, Not to be found when wanted; So he took in his place two Wolves, One black, the other white; And these wild dogs are his messengers Who bear to him tidings of all.

Many years ago, Yet still within our time, Very far to the North, An Indian in his canoe Was about to cross a bay To a distant place; When, just before he launched, There came in haste a stranger Followed by two great dogs, Who asked to be taken over. “You may come,” replied the Indian, “Come over the bay and welcome, But what will you do with your dogs? For we cannot take them with us!”

The stranger replied, “They may go Around by land and meet us.” “That cannot be,” said the other, “No dogs could run such a distance, Not even in weeks of running.” But as there was no answer He paddled, saying nothing, Over the bay to the landing, And there the dogs were waiting! But when he turned his head He found the stranger had vanished, And then he said to himself: “Now have I seen Kulóskap, The Lord of Beasts and Men.”

And yet at a later day At a place afar in the North, There were many Indians assembled When there came a strange commotion. The ground was heaving and rumbling, The rocks were shaking and falling, And even the boldest among them Felt faint at heart with terror; When lo, they saw before them The Lord of all, Kulóskap! And he said to them: “Lo, I am here, And when you feel the ground Trembling again as to-day, Then know that I have returned.” So it is that man will know When the last great war shall be, The war of the Final Day! For then Kulóskap the Lord Will make the plain and the mountains Shake with an awful noise.

The Beaver had been the foe Of the Lord in the beginning; Hence it came that Kulóskap slew Full many of the tribe. Away up in the Tobaic Are two salt water rocks— That is, they stand by the ocean Near a fresh water stream— A spot which to the Beaver Had ever been forbidden. But one day when far away, So far that none could see Who had not the magic vision, Kulóskap saw the Beaver Defying his injunction, And drinking from the stream. Then with his might, in anger, The god tore up a rock And hurled it at the Beaver. It was many leagues away, The Beaver deftly dodged it— Few beasts are so quick at dodging— But when another boulder Came after the first one, Kwâbît Ran deep into a mountain From which he came forth no more. But the rocks which the Master threw, And the mountain and the fountain, Are shown unto this day; And the Indians say in reverence; “Kulóskap once was here!”