Chapter I

THE BIRTH OF KULÓSKAP, THE LORD OF BEASTS AND MEN,
AND THE DEATH OF MALSUM THE WOLF

[_Passamaquoddy_]

_Yut nit nʾkani akʾnodʾmâgon
Uch Kulóskap elaknotmotits piche._[13]

Wonderful traditions
Of the olden time;
Very old indeed,
Ere the world began:

The great lord Kulóskap
Who in after days
Was worshipped everywhere
By the Wabanaki
Or Children of the Dawn,
Was as yet unborn,
Living as a twin
With another named
Malsumsis--the Wolf.
Wolf, the lesser one,
As his brother was good
So was this one bad;
One, the Lord of Light,
One, of Darkness dire.

Now ere they were born,
The two a council held
That they might decide
How they would be born.
And Kulóskap said:
“I shall be content
If I may come to life
Even as others come.”
But Malsum, the Wolf,
Said: “Just as you will;
But I am too great
E’er to see the light
As common creatures do;
I will burst to light
Rending everything
E’en through death to life.”

So it came to pass
Kulóskap, the Lord,
Came in peace to light;
Malsum kept his word,
And the mother died.

So the two grew up,
Till one day the Wolf,
Who knew that both were given
Strange mysterious lives
Charmed ’gainst everything
Save one concealèd death,
Asked of the elder what
His hidden bane might be?

Then the wise Kulóskap
Thought how when he was born
Malsumsis in his pride
Had slain his mother;
And he said: “If Wolf knew
The secret of my life,
That life would soon be o’er.”
And therefore he agreed
To tell Malsum the Wolf
The secret of his death,
If he the younger born
Would tell him in return
The secret of his own.

Therefore the elder said,
To test his brother’s truth:
“The feather of an owl
Is the one thing on earth
Which e’er can end my life.”
In sooth, this was a lie
Although no evil one,
And yet from uttering it
Kulóskap got his name
Which means the Liar, or,
As Indians mean the word:
A wise and crafty man.

And then it came to pass
That in the after-days
Kwâbîtsis the son
Of the Great Beaver, or
As others tell the tale
Miʿko the squirrel, or else
The very devil himself
Who dwelt within his heart,
Tempted Malsum to slay
His brother Kulóskap;
For in those early days
All men were wicked--all
Lived but in evil deeds.

So Malsum took his bow
And, stealing through the woods
Into his dark retreat,
Shot Koʿkoʿkhas, the owl,
And with his feathers struck
Kulóskap while asleep.

Up leaped the Lord enraged,
Yet even in his wrath
He spoke right craftily:
“Thou ever evil One!
Thou murderer of all!
Know that no feather can
E’er take my life. ’Tis by
A pine-root and a blow
That I am doomed to die,
By that, and that alone.”

So on another day
When both together went
A-hunting in the woods
Kulóskap laid him down
To sleep upon the leaves
Where all was very still;
Then Malsum, ever bent
On evil and on death,
With a great pine-tree root
Smote with his giant strength
His brother on the head.
Up leapt the Lord again
Unharmèd as before,
And drove the Wolf away,
Away in bitter scorn,
Away into the woods.

Then sitting by a brook
He saw the flowering rush,
Or cat-tail, in the stream--
Of all the plants on earth
The weakest, softest thing--
And said unto himself,
Although he spoke aloud:
“What soul would ever dream
That in that plant abides
The secret of my death?”

The Beaver who lay hid
Deep down among the reeds.
Heard what the Lord had said,
And hastening to Malsumsis
Told him the whole. For this
Malsum had freely sworn
To give the Beaver aught
Or all that he might wish.

But when the Beaver asked
For wings, that he might fly
Even as pigeons do,
Malsum replied in scorn,
And laughing from his heart:
“Thou with a sorry tail
Like any rugged rasp,
What need hast _thou_ of wings!
Mud-scraper! Get thee gone!”

In a bitter rage
Forth the Beaver ran,
Ran by night and day,
Till he found the Lord,
Kulóskap the Wise,
Unto whom he told
All that he had done,
Sorrowing that he
Had so evil been,
Sorrowing that he
Had ever heard and told
The secret of his life.
Then in sorrow too,
And yet in anger grim,
Up the Lord arose,
Rose all in his might,
And plucking up a fern,
Sought in the deep dark wood
For Malsumsis the Wolf:
And having found him there
Smote him a single blow;
Down fell the demon dead.

Then Kulóskap sang a song,
Lamenting for the dead;
Though ever unto him
He had so evil been,
And as a bitter foe
Had sought to end his life;
Sung over him a song,
Then homewards went his way. L.

FOOTNOTES:

[13] This is an ancient story of Kulóskap which they told long ago.