Chapter VII: How Kulóskap Went Whale-Fishing

[_Micmac_]

_Piche Kulóskap pechian
Machieswi menikok._[32]

All of the olden time!
The Master Kulóskap came
To Pulowechē Munígû,
That is to Partridge Island.
And on the isle he met
With Kitpûsâgunâû,
Whose mother had been slain
By a fearful cannibal giant:
Therefore, like Kulóskap,
He warred through all his life
Upon the monstrous race;
From which it came to pass
That they were loving friends,
Which did not hinder them
From a hearty, merry strife
In which they barely missed
Taking each other’s lives
In the most good-natured way
As ye shall hear anon.

Now being on the isle,
The Lord of Men and Beasts
Was entertained as guest
By Kitpûsâgunâû,
Born after his mother’s death.
And, as the night came on,
The host said to the Lord.
“Let us go forth to sea
In my canoe, and catch
Some whales by torch light.” So
Kulóskap, nothing loath,
Consented, for he was
A mighty fisherman,
Like all the Wabanaki
Who live along the shore.

Now when they came to the beach
There were many mighty rocks
Lying scattered here and there.
Then Kitpûsâgunâû,
Lifting the largest of them,
Put it upon his head,
And it became a canoe.
Then picking up another
It turned to a paddle; next
A long and narrow piece
Which he split away from a rock
Was changed to a fishing spear;
And then Kulóskap asked
“Who shall sit in the stern
And paddle; and who shall take
The spear?” The other said
“That will I do.” And so
The Master paddled; ere long
The canoe passed o’er a whale.
A monster of a fish;
There was not his like in the sea.
But he who held the spear
Sent it down into the waves
As if ’twere a thunderbolt;
And as the handle rose
He snatched it up, and so
The mighty fish was caught;
And as Kitpûsâgunâû
Whirled it on high, the whale
Loud roaring touched the clouds;
Then taking it from the spear
He tossed it into the barque
As if it had been a trout.
And both the giants laughed;
And the sound of their laugh was heard
All over the land afar,
The Wabanaki land.

So, being at home, the host
Took up a knife of stone
Splitting the whale in two,
And threw one half to his guest.
And they roasted each his piece,
Over the fire and ate it.

Now the Master, having marked
The light which was in the heaven
Long after the sun went down,
Said, “The sky is red, and the night
I think will be bitter cold.”
And the other understood
That by his magic power
The Lord would bring a frost
And make it cold indeed;
So he made the Marten bring
All the wood that lay without,
With the fresh oil of a porpoise
Which he multiplied ten times
By sorcery; and then
They sat them down and smoked,
And sang old songs and told
Tales of the early time.
But ever the cold came on,
And at midnight, when the fire
And fuel were all burnt out,
The Marten froze to death,
And then the grandmother.
But still the giants smoked on,
And laughed and talked as before.

Then the rocks all round without
Split with the awful cold.
The great trees in the forest
Were rent with frost, and the sound
Was like thunder above, but still
The Master and “He who was born
After his mother’s death.”
Kitpûsâgunâû,
Laughed on, and so they sat
Until the sun arose.

And then Kulóskap said
Unto the grandmother:
“_Nugumích, nemchaase!_”
“O grandmother, arise.”
And then unto the boy
“_Abistaneûch, nemchaase!_”
“Marten, arise!” and both
Awoke to life once more.

Then as the day was fair
They went into the woods
To seek for game, yet found
Full little. All they got
Was one small beaver, so
The Master said: “My friend,
You may keep all of that.”
Then Kitpûsâgunâû
Fastened it to his knee
Where it dangled like a mouse.
But as the giant went
On through the woods, and on,
The beaver ever grew
Larger and larger still,
Till ’twas of monstrous size;
Then he who bore it, took
A mighty sapling. This
He twisted to a withe
And with it, to his waist
He tied the beaver fast;
But still it grew apace
Till, trailing after him,
It tore down all the trees,
So that the giant left
A clean fair road behind.

Then when the night came on
They fished for whales again,
And feasted as before
And had the cold again;
So, even as before,
The grandmother lay dead
Of cold, with Marten, too.
Then Kitpûsâgunâû
Yielded unto the spell,
And Kulóskap sat alone,
Alone as conqueror.
But when the sun arose
He brought them back to life;
And, laughing heartily,
Said merrily, “Good-bye!”
To Kitpûsâgunâû.[33] L.

FOOTNOTES:

[32] Long ago Kulóskap came to Partridge Island.

[33] The last nine lines of this poem were added by me conjecturally. L.