🧚 Opening, part 13 · page 2

And when the feast was over, Kulóskap, the Lord of all living, Entered his great canoe And sailed away over the water, The shining waves of Minas; And they looked in silence at him Until they could see him no more.62 Yet, after they ceased to behold him, They still heard his voice in song, The wonderful voice of the Master!63 But the sounds grew fainter and fainter And softer in the distance, Till at last they died away.64

Then over them all was silence, Till a wonder came to pass; For all the beasts, who, before Had spoken but one common language, Now talked in different tongues; Each with a tongue of his own Understood the others no more.65

So they parted from one another And fled to the sea or the forest; And, since that day of the parting, They never have met in council, And never again will meet Till the day when all sins and sorrows Will be in full forgiven, Forgiven and forgotten, And their Lord the great Kulóskap Shall return to restore to his children The age of sunshine and plenty; When all shall dwell together In peace and joy forever; Till then the world will mourn.66

And ’tis said that, when the Master Had left Acadia, The bird who most had loved him, The great white Snowy Owl Went far into the North, Into the deep dark forest, Where to this day his children Sing to the night “_Kūkuʿskūūs!67 _” Which means in Indian, “I am sorry, oh, I am sorry!”68 And the loons who had been his huntsmen, Go up and down by the waters, Over the snow-topped mountains, Across the rushing rivers, Through dale and wood and valley, Seeking in vain for their master, The Lord whom they cannot meet; Ever wailing, wailing sadly, Because they find him not.69 L.70

FOOTNOTES:71

[44] This is how Kulóskap left the world.72

X73

THE MASTER AND THE FINAL DAY74

[_Passamaquoddy_]75

_Kulóskap mech pʾmaoso?76 _[45]77

“Is Kulóskap living yet?”78 Yes, far away, but no one knoweth where-- Beyond the mountains or above the skies, Where in the autumn’s lengthening twilight shades, He smokes his _tūmʾhîgʾnpowâgon_, His ancient tomahawk-pipe, Making the brown air Of the pleasant Indian summer.79 Some say that he sailed away In his marvellous stone canoe, Afar beyond the sea, To the country of the East; Some that he went to the West; And ’tis said that in days of old There were men who knew where he dwelt, And, making a pilgrimage Could get from him what they sought.80 And they say that, even now, If you travel ever on, Travel in perfect faith, You’ll find at last the Kchi Sagem, That is the great Sagamore The greatest of all lords.81

“Is Kulóskap living yet?”82 Yes, he lives in a very great wigwam, A wigwam very long-- That is, a council lodge-- Where he always is making arrows; And all one side of the lodge Is full of arrows now, All closely packed together, Even as your fingers lie.83 When all the lodge shall be full The god will come forth to battle, And till then no mortal being May ever enter the wigwam.84

“On whom will war be made?”85 He will make it on all mankind, He will end all life that endures, For the world will pass away When that battle shall come to an end.86 I know not when it will be, To-morrow it may come Or hundreds of years away.87

“Are any to be saved By any one, in that hour?”88 That is beyond my ken, All I have heard is this: That the world will pass away In roaring fire and flame, While all the sea will rise Hot boiling into mist, And that the good with it Will rise on high to heaven; It may perhaps be so; I’ve only heard it told, Just heard it--and no more.89 L.90

FOOTNOTES:91

[45] Is Kulóskap alive yet?92

PART SECOND93

=Witchcraft Lore=94

WITCHCRAFT LORE95

I96

THE WIZARD’S CHANT97

[_Passamaquoddy_]98

_Nil nolbin naga ntetlitemen pekholagon.99 _[46]100

I sit and beat the wizard’s magic drum; And by its mystic sound I call the beasts.101 From mountain lair and forest nook they throng; E’en mighty storms obey the dreadful sound.102

I sit and beat the wizard’s magic drum; The storm and thunder answer when it calls.103 Aplasemwesit, mighty whirlwind, stops To hearken to the mystic sound I make.104

I sit and beat the wizard’s magic drum; And Chibelaʿkwe, night-air spirit, flies To hearken to the mystic sound I make; And old Wuʾchoʿsen, storm-bird of the North, Rests his great pinions, causing calm to reign, To hearken to the mystic sound I make.105

I sit and beat the wizard’s magic drum; And Lumpeguin, who dwells beneath the wave, Arises to the surface struck with awe, To hearken to the mystic sound I make.106 E’en Atwuskniges, armed with axe of stone, Will cease his endless chopping, and be still To hearken to the mystic sound I make.107

I sit and beat the wizard’s magic drum; And Appodumken, with his long, red hair, Ariseth from the depths, and draweth near To hearken to the mystic sound I make.108

The lightning, thunder, storm and forest sprite, The whirlwind, gale, and spirit of the deep, The Chibelaʿkwe, loathly night-air ghost, All come together, and with reverent mien Will hearken to the mystic sound I make.109 P.110

FOOTNOTES:111

[46] I sit and beat the magic drum.112

II113

THE WOMAN AND THE SERPENT114

[_Passamaquoddy_]115

_Piʿchedog Laʿtogwesnuk.116 _[47]117

Far away, very far in the North, There dwelt by a great fair lake An Indian and his wife, A very beautiful woman Given to strange wild dreams; Passion was in her blood.118

The lake was frozen over For many months in the year; One day, when she cut away The ice, she saw in the water A pair of wonderful eyes Steadily gazing at her; Bright eyes which charmed her so That she could not move a hand; Then she saw a handsome face And a graceful slender young man, Who rose from the glittering water, And he himself, like it, Glittered from head to foot; On his breast were _nʾskemanul_, Or shining silvery plates.119

He said, “I am Aʿtosis, The King of all the Serpents”; Little she cared for his nature, She talked with him of love, She returned his fond embraces; Every day she came to meet him, And often in the night.120

Her husband noticed that often She strayed away from home, And asked her, why she wandered?121 She answered, “To get fresh air.”122

The weather grew ever warmer; The ice from the lake had melted, Grass, flowers and leaves were growing.123 The woman patiently waited Till her husband was asleep; Then she stole away in silence From the one whom she kissed no more Unto her serpent lover Whom she kissed with all her heart.124

The husband greatly suspecting, Resolved to watch her wandering.125 And so, to avert suspicion, Said, “Stay here in the wigwam, For I shall be gone three days To hunt the deer in the forest.”126 But at the end of the second He came again to the wigwam, And found that she was absent.127 As he sat, re-kindling the fire, She entered.128 He saw upon her Bright shining silver scales; He asked her what ’twas that glittered?129 She answered, “My silver brooches.”130