Passamaquoddy

Yut nʾkani aknodʾmâgon uch Kulóskap.

This is a tale of Kulóskap, An old one. There was a father Who had three sons and a daughter, And all were Mteolinwuk, That is, they were magicians Of terrible power, and giants; They ate men, women, and children; Yea, they did everything That was wicked and horrible; And the land grew tired of them And of all their abominations. Yet when this family Was young, Kulóskap had been Ever and truly their friend; He had made their father his father, The brothers his brothers, the sister His sister by adoption, As Indians often do.

But, as they all grew older, And the Master began to hear On every side of their sins. He said: “I will go among them And find if this be true; If it be so, they shall die— I will not spare one of those Who oppress and devour mankind, I care not who he may be.”

This evil family dwelt Near the place that now is Saco, Upon the sandy field Which is in the Intervale, Or the summer bed of the river, Among the White Mountains, which lie Between Kèzitwâzuch, Or Mount Kearsarge the mighty, And Kchibenabesk The towering rock, and near Wʾnâgʾmeswuk Wigît The Home of the Water Elves.

Now the old man, the father Of all these evil sorcerers, Had only one eye, and he Was half gray like a stony mountain; Then the Master made himself Like to the hoary old fellow; There was not between them The difference of a hair. So having taken this form He entered into the wigwam And sat by the agèd man.

Then the murdering brothers Who never spared a soul, Hearing that some one was talking, Peeped slyly in, and seeing A stranger so like their father That they knew not which was which, Said: “This is a great magician, But he shall be tried ere he goes, And that right bitterly.”

Then the giantess sister took The tail of a whale, and cooked it, And gave it to the stranger That he might eat it, when Just as it lay before him On the platter, and on his knees, The elder brother entered And saying: “This is too good For a beggar like you,” took it Away to his own wigwam. And then the Master said: “That which was given to me Is mine—so I take it again.” And sitting still he willed Or wished for it to return. And lo! the dish came flying Again into his lap! And he ate from it, undisturbed. Then the brothers said: “This truly Is a very great magician, But he shall be tried ere he goes, And that right bitterly!”

When he had eaten, they brought A mighty bone; the jaw Of a whale, and the elder brother With great ado, and using Both arms and all his strength, Bent it a little, and proudly He held it to the Master Who with the thumb and finger Of his right hand alone, Snapped it like a green twig, And crumbled it to powder. Then the brothers said again: “This is truly a great magician, But he shall be tried ere he goes, And that right bitterly.”

Then they brought an enormous pipe Full of the strongest tobacco; No man, not even a sorcerer Could have smoked such fearful stuff. And as it was passed around All of them smoked. The brothers Blew the smoke through their nostrils As if it were light as air. But the Master filled it full And, lighting it, burned all The tobacco into ashes At one puff, with a single pull! Blowing all the smoke through his nose Even as they had done. Then they said and now in anger: “This is truly a great magician; But he shall be tried ere he goes”— They never said it again!

Yet still they tried to smoke. They shut the door of the wigwam Hoping to smother him. But he puffed and puffed away As if he had been on the top Of a mountain in a breeze, Till one said: “This is idle, Let us go and play at ball!”

The place where they were to play Was the sandy stony plain Which lies on the bend of the river. And so the game began. Kulóskap discovered That the ball with which they played Was a hideous human skull, A living thing which snapped at His heels. Had the Master been As other men, the monster Would have bitten a foot away. Then he laughed aloud, and said: “So this is your style of foot-ball! Well and good! But let us all play With our own balls.” He stepped Up to a tree by the river, And broke off a hole or knot And it turned to a living skull, But one which was ten times greater, And ten times more terrible Than that which the sorcerers used. And the three brothers ran Before it as it chased them As rabbits are chased by a lynx; They were entirely beaten. Then Kulóskap stamped in the sand, And the waters rose and came rushing Fearfully from the mountains Adown the river bed; The whole land rang with their roar. Then the Master sang the song, The magic song which changes All creatures to other forms, Which changed the Three and their father Into the Chinames, A fish which is long and broad As a man, and they all went headlong Down in the flood to the ocean Where they must dwell forever And are caught unto this day.

These three magicians wore Each one a collar of wampum Of purple beads and white, Wherefore the Chinames Has exactly round its neck Or below its head, the same, Distinctly marked and clear; They were mighty men in their day And great Mteolinwuk, But were tried before they went And that most bitterly.

Yes indeed, Nsîwes, my brother, This story is really true, For Kulóskap was very great In his day—and a day will come When I myself shall go to him. L.