Penobscot

Yut nit nekani agnodʾmâgon uch Kulóskap Elakʾnotmotits piʾche.

All of the olden time. They tell this tale Of great Kulóskap. He had conquered all Of his worst enemies, even the Kiwaʾkw Who were ice-giant ghouls, and over them, Mʾdeolinʾwak or sorcerers And Pʾmûla the night air’s evil spirit, And every manner of uncanny ghosts, Grim witches, devils, goblins, cannibals, And the dark demons of the forest shade. And now he paused, and, thinking o’er his deeds, Long wondered if his work was at an end.

This thought unto a certain wife he told— A clever woman with a ready tongue— And she replied: “O Master—not so fast! For One there still remains whom no man yet Has ever overcome in any strife Or got the better of in any way; And who will ever, as I oft have heard, Remain unconquered to the end of time.” “And who is he?” inquired the Lord, amazed.

“It is the mighty Waʾsis,” she replied: “And there he sits before you on the floor! And mark my words—if you do trouble him, He’ll cause you greater trouble in the end!”

Now Waʾsis was the Baby. And he sat Upon the floor, in baby peace profound Sucking a piece of maple sugar sweet; Greatly content and troubling nobody.

Now as the mighty Lord of Men and Beasts Had never married, nor had had a child, The art of nursing or of managing Such little ones was all unknown to him; And therefore he was sure, as all such folk Invariably are, be they or maids Or blooming bachelors, that he at least Knew all about it and would have his way, And make the young obey him. So the Lord Turned to the babe with a bewitching smile, And bade the little creature come to him; Back smiled the baby, but it did not budge.

And then the Master spoke in sweeter tone, Making his voice like that of summer birds, And all to no avail; for Waʾsis sat, And, sucking at his sugar silently, Looked at Kulóskap with untroubled eyes.

So then the Lord as in great anger frowned And ordered Waʾsis in an awful voice To crawl to him at once. And baby burst Into wild tears, and high he raised his voice Unto a squall tremendous—yet for all Did never move an inch from where he sat.

Then, since he could do only one thing more, The Master had recourse to sorcery And used the awful spells, and sang the songs Which raise the dead and scare the devils wild And send the witches howling to their graves, And make the forest pines bend low to earth. And Waʾsis looked at him admiringly And seemed to find it interesting, quite; Yet, peacefully as ever kept his place.

So, in despair, Kulóskap gave it up, And Waʾsis, ever sitting on the floor In the warm sunshine, went “Goo! goo!” and crowed; That was his infant crow of victory.

Now to this very day, whene’er you see A baby well contented, crying “Goo!” Or crowing in this style, know that it is Because he then remembers in great joy How he in strife, all in the olden time, Did overcome the Master, conqueror Of all the world. For that, of creatures all, Or beings which on earth have ever been Since the beginning, Baby is alone The never yielding and invincible. L.