Passamaquoddy

Uskitap iaqu bamose kʾchikok Etuchi nodak metetaguak kequ pichikok.

A man was walking the woods When he heard afar a noise As of footsteps beating the ground. With a cry as of merry singing; So he sought to find the people; ’Twas a week before he found them.

’Twas a man and his wife a-dancing About a tree; on its summit There sat a great Raccoon, And by their constant treading They had worn a trench in the ground— Yea, in it, up to their waists.

And when the stranger in wonder Asked of them, “What are you doing?” They answered that being hungry They were trying to fell the tree, And bring it down by dancing.

The stranger said to them: “Know ye not that another, A newer and better way Of felling trees more quickly, Has come into the land?” They asked him how it might be.

Then, while they greatly wondered, Taking his axe, he showed them How to cut down trees in a hurry; But made it a condition That when the Raccoon should be taken They might have his meat and eat it, But the pelt should be his portion.

So, when the tree had fallen, And the game became their booty, The woman tanned the skin Which was strangely large and glossy And gave it to the Indian Who took it and went away.

Then afar in a path in the forest He met with another man, And was greatly amazed at the sight, Because the other was bearing A very large birch wigwam, A dwelling with many rooms. He never had seen the like, And at first was in a fright, But the man, putting down the house, Burst into a fit of laughter, And shook him by the hand, Seeming in faith to be A downright honest fellow. Then, while they smoked and laughed, The man of the house beheld The skin which the other bore Of Espuns, the Raccoon, And said with curious air: “He kekw nit?” “What have you there The skin of magic power?” Then the other answering told How he met the man and his wife Who danced around the tree: Whereat the man of the house Offered to buy the skin At any price at all, And offered the house for it.

Then the other looked it through And truly he was amazed To find how many rooms Were all contained in it, And what a wondrous store Of furniture and arms And kettles and the like Were stored in every room. “But oh and alack,” he cried, “I could never carry this house As you do, on your head.”

“You can do it with ease,” replied Pilowî wʾskichin, That is “the stranger man;” “Just put it on your head.” He tried and found it as light As a kchi bʾsnŭd, or A basket made of birch.

And so he went his way, Bearing the magic house Lightly upon his head, Till he came to a hard-wood ridge In which was a bubbling spring; And here he said: “I will live.” So searching he found a room In which there was a bed; A better he ne’er had seen, All covered with the skin Of a snow-white northern bear. So he laid him down to sleep.

In the morning when he awoke What was his wonderment To see above his head, All hanging to the beams, Good food of every kind, All dainties known to man. For there were venison, Bear hams and many ducks, Buckets of maple sugar, Others of cranberries, And many golden ears Of drying Indian corn. But as in his delight He stretched out both his hands To grasp the tempting food, The bear-skin, melting fast, As water ran away— For it was but the snow Which all the winter long Had gathered o’er his nest. And as he stretched his arms, Lo! they were changed to wings! And up he flew to the food, Which was the early buds Of the birch on which they hung. He was in truth himself A Partridge who had been Wintering beneath the snow, And who in joy came forth To greet the pleasant spring. L.