So they sailed across the sea. This was before the white people had ever heard of America. The white men did not discover this country first at all. Glooskap discovered England, and told them about it. He got to London. The people had never seen a canoe before. They came flocking down to look at it.
The Woodchuck had lost her boy. This boy it was, who first discovered America (England?). This boy could walk on the water and fly up to the sky. [Footnote: This tale was taken down in very strange and confused English. The first part is in my notes almost unintelligible.] He took his mother to England. They offered him a large ship for his stone canoe. He refused it. He feared lest the ship should burn. They offered him servants. He refused them. They gave him presents which almost overloaded the canoe. They gave him an anchor and an English flag.
He and his mother went to France. The French people fired cannon at him till the afternoon. They could not hurt the stone canoe. In the night Glooskap drew all their men-of-war ash.o.r.e. Next morning the French saw this. They said, "Who did this?" He answered, "I did it."
They took him prisoner. They put him into a great cannon and fired it off. They looked into the cannon, and there he sat smoking his stone pipe, knocking the ashes out.
The king heard how they had treated him. He said it was wrong. He who could do such deeds must be a great man. He sent for Glooskap, who replied, "I do not want to see your king. I came to this country to have my mother baptized as a Catholic." They sent boats, they sent a coach; he was taken to the king, who put many questions to him.
He wished to have his mother christened. It was done. They called her Molly. [Footnote: The Indians p.r.o.nounce the word Marie Mahli or Molly. Mahlinskwess, "Miss Molly," sounds like Mon-in-kwess, a woodchuck. Hence this very poor pun.] Therefore to this day all woodchucks are called Molly. They went down to the sh.o.r.e; to please the king Glooskap drew all the ships into the sea again. So the king gave him what he wanted, and he returned home. Since that time white men have come to America.
This is an old Eskimo tale, greatly modernized and altered. The Eskimo believe in a kind of sorcerers or spirits, who have instruments which they merely point at people or animals, to kill them. I think that the Indian who told me this story (P.) was aware of its feebleness, and was ashamed to attribute such nonsense to Glooskap, and therefore made the hero an Indian named Woodchuck. But among Mr. Rand"s Micmac tales it figures as a later tribute to the memory of the great hero.
One version of this story was given to me by Tomah Josephs, another by Mrs. W. Wallace Brown. In the latter Glooskap"s canoe is a great ship, with all kinds of birds for sailors. In the Shawnee legend of the Celestial Sisters (Hiawatha Legends), a youth who goes to the sky must take with him one of every kind of bird. This indicates that the Glooskap voyage meant a trip to heaven.
How Glooskap is making Arrows, and preparing for a Great Battle. The Twilight of the Indian G.o.ds.
(Pa.s.samaquoddy.)
"Is Glooskap living yet?" "Yes, far away; no one knows where. Some say he sailed away in his stone canoe beyond the sea, to the east, but he will return in it one day; others, that he went to the west. One story tells that while he was alive those who went to him and found him could have their wishes given to them. But there is a story that if one travels long, and is not afraid, he may still find the great sagamore (sogmo). Yes. He lives in a very great, a very long wigwam. He always making arrows. One side of the lodge is full of arrows now. They so thick as that. When it is all quite full, he will come forth and make war. He never allows any one to enter the wigwam while he is making these arrows."
"And on whom will he make war?" "He will make war on all, kill all; there will be no more world,-world all gone. Dunno how quick,- mebbe long time; all be dead then, mebbe,-guess it will be long time."
"Are any to be saved by any one?" "Dunno. Me hear how some say world all burn up some day, water all boil all fire; some good ones be taken up in good heavens, but me dunno,-me just hear that. Only hear so."
It was owing to a mere chance question that this account of the Last Day was obtained from an Indian. It was related to Mrs. W. Wallace Brown, of Calais, Maine, by Mrs. Le Cool, an old Pa.s.samaquoddy Indian. It casts a great light on the myth of Glooskap, since it appears that a day is to come when, like Arthur, Barbarossa, and other heroes in retreat, he is to come forth at a new twilight of the G.o.ds, exterminate the Iglesmani, and establish an eternal happy hunting-ground. This preparing for a great final battle is more suggestive of Norse or Scandinavian influence than of aught else. It is certainly not of a late date, or Christian, but it is very much like the Edda and Ragnarok. Heine does not observe, in the Twilight of the G.o.ds, that Jupiter or Mars intend to return and conquer the world. But the Nors.e.m.e.n expected such a fight, when arrows would fly like hail, and Glooskap is supposed to be deliberately preparing for it.
A very curious point remains to be noted in this narration. When the Indians speak of Christian, or white, or civilized teachings, they say, "I heard," or, "I have been told." This they never do as regards their own ancient traditions. When Mrs. Le Cool said that she "had heard" that some were to be taken up into good heavens, she declared, in her way, that this was what Christians said, but that she was not so sure of it. The Northeastern Algonquin always distinguish very accurately between their ancient lore and that derived from the whites. I have often heard French fairy tales and Aesop"s fables Indianized to perfection, but the narrator always knew that they were not N"Karnayoo, "of the old time."
Glooskap is now living in a Norse-like Asa-heim; but there is to come a day when the arrows will be ready, and he will go forth and slay all the wicked. Malsum the Wolf, his twin brother, the typical colossal type of all Evil, will come to life, with all the giant cannibals, witches, and wild devils slain of old; but the champion will gird on his magic belt, and the arrows will fly in a rain as at Ragnarok: the hero will come sailing in his wonderful canoe, which expands to hold an army. Thus it will be on
"That day of wrath, that dreadful day, When heaven and earth shall pa.s.s away,"
with all things, in blood and death and fire. Then there will come the eternal happy hunting-grounds.
If this was derived from Christian priests, it must be admitted that it has changed wonderfully on the way. It is to me very heathen, grimly archaic, and with the strong stamp of an original. Its resemblance to the Norse is striking. Either the Nors.e.m.e.n told it to the Eskimo and the Indians, or the latter to the Nors.e.m.e.n. None know, after all, what was going on for ages in the early time, up about Jotunheim, in the North Atlantic! Vessels came to Newfoundland to fish for cod since unknown antiquity, and, returning, reported that they had been to Tartary.
It may be a.s.sumed at once that this Indian Last Battle of the Giants, or of the good hero giants against the Evil, led by the Malsum-Fenris Wolf, was not derived from the Canadian French. The influence of, the latter is to be found even among the Chippewas, but they never dealt in myths like this.
It is very remarkable indeed that the one great principle of the Norse mythology is identical with that of the Indian. So long as man shall make war and heroism his standard, just so long his hero G.o.d exists. But there will come a day when mankind can war no more,-when higher civilization must prevail. Then there will be a great final war, and death of the heroes, and death of their foes, and after all a new world.
"Then shall another come yet mightier, although I dare not his name declare.
Few may see further forth than when Odin meets the Wolf." (Hyndluloid, 42.)
The Nors.e.m.e.n may have drawn this from a Christian source; but the Indian, to judge by form, spirit, and expression, would seem to have taken it from the Norse.
How Glooskap found the Summer.
In the long ago time when people lived always in the early red morning, before sunrise, before the Squid to neck was peopled as to-day, Glooskap went very far north, where all was ice.
He came to a wigwam. Therein he found a giant, a great giant, for he was Winter. Glooskap entered; he sat down. Then Winter gave him a pipe; he smoked, and the giant told tales of the old times.
The charm was on him; it was the Frost. The giant talked on and froze, and Glooskap fell asleep. He slept for six months, like a toad. Then the charm fled, and he awoke. He went his way home; he went to the south, and at every step it grew warmer, and the flowers began to come up and talk to him.
He came to where there were many little ones dancing in the forest; their queen was Summer. I am singing the truth: it was Summer, the inmost beautiful one ever born. He caught her up; he kept her by a crafty trick. The Master cut a moose-hide into a long cord; as he ran away with Summer he let the end trail behind him.
They, the fairies of Light, pulled at the cord, but as Glooskap ran, the cord ran out, and though they pulled he left them far away. So he came to the lodge of Winter, but now he had Summer in his bosom; and Winter welcomed him, for he hoped to freeze him again to sleep. I am singing the song of Summer.
But this time the Master did the talking. This time his m"teoulin was the strongest. And ere long the sweat ran down Winter"s face, and then he melted more and quite away, as did the wigwam. Then every thing awoke; the gra.s.s grew, the fairies came out, and the snow ran down the rivers, carrying away the dead leaves. Then Glooskap left Summer with them, and went home.
This poem-for it is such-was related to Mrs. W. Wallace Brown by an Indian named Neptune. It appears to be the completer form of the beautiful allegory of Winter and Spring given in the Hiawatha Legends as Peboan and Seegwum (Odjibwa). The struggle between Spring and Winter, Summer and Winter, or Heat and Cold, represented as incarnate human or mythic beings, forms the subject of several Indian legends, as it does a part of the Hymiskrida, in the Edda. The German J. B. Friedreich (Symbolik der Natur, Wurzburg, 1859) remarks that in the Bible, Job x.x.xviii. 28, and in the Song of the Three in the Fiery Furnace, Ice and Snow are spoken of as intelligences.
Heat and cold, in cla.s.sic times, were supposed to be united, yet in conflict, in the lightning and hail (Virgil, Aen, VIII. 429), the symbol for this being a twisted horn. In the legend of the Culloo the frost giantess can only be killed by a crooked horn thrust into her ear. The horn darts out at once into incredible, irregular length, and evidently means lightning. In the Edda the he-goat is, on account of his horns, the symbol of lightning and storm. (Schwenk, Sinnbilden der alten Volker.) The Giala-horn of the Edda (Nyer up. Dict Scan. Mythol.) is the thunder which summons the Elves. "Miolner, the hammer of Thor, with which he kills frost giants, is the lightning." (Kirchner, Thor"s Donnerkeil, Neu Strelitz, 1853, p. 60.) The coincidence of the symbols in the Edda with that of the lightning horn in the Indian legend is very curious, if nothing more.
The cord which Glooskap unrolls, and with which he deceives the fairies, who think they have him fast, while he is escaping, means delusive speech or plausible talk. To "talk like paying out rope" is an old simile.
"Speech runes thou must know, If thou wilt that no one for injury with hate requite thee. Those thou must wind, Those thou must wrap round (thee), Those thou must altogether place in the a.s.sembly, where people have into full court to go." (Sigrdrifumal.)
This is a merely accidental coincidence, but it ill.u.s.trates the meaning of the myth. In both cases it is "wound or wrapped around" and rapidly unrolled, and the same simile.
The following poem on Glooskap may be appropriately placed in this work. The allusion to the agates of Cape Blomidon refers to a tradition given by S. T. Rand, which states that when Glooskap would make his adopted grandmother young again he created the brilliant stones, which are still found at that place, to adorn her. [Footnote: Youth"s Companion.]
THE LEGEND OF GLOOSKAP.
Bathed in the sunshine still as of yore Stretches the peaceful Acadian sh.o.r.e; Fertile meadows and fields of grain Smile as they drink the summer rain.
There like a sentinel, grim and gray, Blomidon stands at the head of the bay, And the famous Fundy tides, at will, Sweep into Minas Basin still.
With wondrous beauty the Gaspereanx Winds its way to the sea below, And the old Acadian Grand Pre Is the home of prosperous men to-day.
The place where Basil the blacksmith wrought, In the glow of his forge, is a cla.s.sic spot, And every summer tourists are seen In the fairy haunts of Evangeline.
But the old Acadian woods and sh.o.r.es, Rich in beautiful legend stores, Were once the home of an older race, Who wore their epics with untaught grace.
Long ere the dikes that guard for aye From the merciless tides the old Grand Pre, Built by the Frenchman"s tireless hands, Grew round the rich Acadian lands.
The Micmac sailed in his birch canoe Over the Basin, calm and blue; Speared the salmon, his heart"s desire, Danced and slept by his wigwam fire; Far in the depth of the forest gray Hunted the moose the livelong day, While the mother sang to her Micmac child Songs of the forest, weird and wild.
Over the tribe, with jealous eye, Watched the Great Spirit from on high, While on the crest of Blomidon Glooskap, the G.o.d-man, dwelt alone.
No matter how far his feet might stray From the favorite haunts of his tribe away, Glooskap could hear the Indian"s prayer, And send some message of comfort there.
Glooskap it was who taught the use Of the bow and the spear, and sent the moose Into the Indian banter"s hands; Glooskap who strewed the shining sands Of the tide-swept beach of the stormy bay With amethysts purple and agates gray, And brought to each newly wedded pair The Great Spirit"s benediction fair.
But the white man came, and with ruthless hand Cleared the forests and sowed the land, And drove from their haunts by the sunny sh.o.r.e Micmac and moose, forevermore.
And Glooskap, saddened and sore distressed, Took his way to the unknown West, And the Micmac kindled his wigwam fire Far from the grave of his child and his sire; Where now, as he weaves his basket gay, And paddles his birch canoe away, He dreams of the happy time for men When Glooskap shall come to his tribe again.
ARTHUR WENTWORTH EATON.
THE MERRY TALES OF LOX, THE MISCHIEF MAKER,
COMMONLY KNOWN AS THE INDIAN DEVIL.
Of the Surprising and Singular Adventures of two Water Fairies who were also Weasels, and how they each became the Bride of a Star. Including the Mysterious and Wonderful Works of Lox, the Great Indian Devil, who rose from the Dead.
(Micmac and Pa.s.samaquoddy.)