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Title: Myths and Folk-lore of the Timiskaming Algonquin and Timagami Ojibwa
Author: Speck, F. G.
Language: English
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TIMISKAMING ALGONQUIN AND TIMAGAMI OJIBWA ***
CANADA
DEPARTMENT OF MINES
Hon. Louis Coderre,
Minister; R. W. Brock,
Deputy Minister.
GEOLOGICAL SURVEY
MEMOIR 71
No. 9, Anthropological Series
Myths and Folk-lore
of the
Timiskaming Algonquin
and
Timagami Ojibwa
BY
F. G. Speck
OTTAWA
Government Printing Bureau
1915
CONTENTS.
CHAPTER I.
PAGE
Myths and folk-lore of the Timiskaming Algonquin 1
Introduction 1
Wiske·djak cycle 2
(1) Wiske·djak pursues the Beaver 2
(2) Wiske·djak kills the Bear and gets his head fastened
in the skull 4
(3) Wiske·djak invites the Ducks to a dance 8
(4) Wiske·djak anum suum urit and originates rock-weed
and red willow from the scabs 10
(5) Wiske·djak disguises himself as a Lynx 15
(6) Wiske·djak’s love affair 16
(7) Ciŋgəbis 17
(8) Remarks about Wiske·djak 20
Timiskaming Algonquin text 20
Free translation 21
(9) Further comment on Wiske·djak 21
Timiskaming folk-lore 22
(1) Wi′ndigo 22
(2) Pa·′guk‵ 22
(3) Constellation Ursa Major 22
(4) Northern Lights 23
(5) Rainbow 23
(6) Milky Way 23
(7) White animals 24
(8) Dwarfed animals 24
(9) Partridge breast-bone as omen 24
(10) Wings of birds and skulls as amulets 24
(11) Blue bottle flies 25
(12) Rabbits’ hair thrown into fire 25
(13) Fish bone 25
(14) Left-handed people 25
(15) Bear feast 25
(16) Legend of Iroquois Falls 26
CHAPTER II.
Myths and folk-lore of the Timagami Ojibwa 28
Introduction 28
Myths and tales 28
(1) Nenebuc, the transformer 28
(a) The magic birth of Nenebuc and his four brothers 28
(b) Nenebuc tempers the wind 30
(c) Nenebuc starts travelling, anum suum castigat for
deceiving him, changes the colour of the Partridge
family, and originates rock tripe from his scabs
for the benefit of the people 31
(d) Nenebuc prepares a feast and gets caught between
two trees, while the animals receive a distribution
of fat 33
(e) Nenebuc gets caught in the Bear’s skull 33
(f) Nenebuc wounds the Giant Lynx, disguises himself
in a Toad’s skin, and finally slays her 34
(g) The Giant Lynx causes the World Flood and gathers
the animals on a raft; Muskrat dives for earth,
which Nenebuc transforms into a new world 36
(h) Nenebuc sends Crow out, for disobedience changes
him black and Gull partly black, then retires to
the west, until he will return again 37
(2) Nenebuc fragment 38
(3) Nenebuc transforms the Bear 39
(4) Wemicus 39
(5) Ciŋgəbis 47
(6) Beaver gives a feast 53
(7) Tcaka·bįs 54
(8) Aniwɔ·ye, the Giant Skunk, and the origin of Skunks 56
(9) The man who transformed a doll into a woman and
followed her into the world above 57
(10) Ayas·e and the origin of Bats 62
(11) Origin of the Constellation Fisher (Ursa Major) 63
(12) The young Loon 64
(13) The Giant Pike 65
(14) Lynx and his two wives 67
(15) Story of Seal Rock in Lake Timagami 68
(16) Rabbit, Lynx, and Fisher 68
(17) Snaring the Sun 69
(18) Homo Excrementi 69
(19) The origin of Snakes 71
(20) Muskrat warns the Beaver 71
(21) Story of a hunter 72
(22) A Timagami story 73
(23) Story of a fast runner 73
(24) The hunter and the seven Deer 73
(25) Story of a conjurer 74
(26) Legend of Obabika lake 76
(27) Iroquois pictographs 76
(28) An Iroquois legend 76
Timagami folk-lore 78
(1) Telling stories in summer 78
(2) Foretelling sex of child to be born 78
(3) How to bring rain 79
(4) Northern Lights 79
(5) Milky Way 79
(6) Rainbow 79
(7) Whippoorwill’s cry 79
(8) Rain omens 79
(9) Killing blue bottle flies 80
(10) Finding a live mole 80
(11) Hiccoughing 80
(12) Children born feet first 80
(13) Cooking squirrels 80
(14) How to bring on a snowstorm 80
(15) An infant warming its hands 80
(16) Red sunset 81
(17) Whirling buzzer 81
(18) Divining what game is to be killed 81
(19) Supernatural creatures:—
Pa·g·αk 81
Me·megwe·s·i 82
Appendix: Notes on Timagami folk-lore, by Neil C. Fergusson
(1) Whisky Jack and the markings on birch bark 83
(2) The two girls, Hell-diver, and Loon 83
Phonetic key 86
ILLUSTRATIONS.
Map: Hunting territories of the Timagami, Timiskaming,
Kipawa, and Dumoine bands in pocket.
Figure 1. Night set-line 66
Figure 2. Markings on birch bark 83
MYTHS AND FOLK-LORE OF THE TIMISKAMING ALGONQUIN AND TIMAGAMI OJIBWA.
CHAPTER I.
MYTHS AND FOLK-LORE OF THE TIMISKAMING ALGONQUIN.
INTRODUCTION.
A few fairly typical Algonquin myths relating the exploits of
Wiske·djak were taken down in the summer of 1913 from Benjamin
Mackenzie of the Timiskaming band. He had learned them when a young man
from Algonquins near Dumoine lake [1] at the head of Dumoine river.
These versions are also current at Timiskaming, as I found by testing a
few incidents with other informants, who, however, knew only of
fragments. These myths also are not considered entirely complete.
The trickster-transformer Wiske·djak “meat bird” is the personified
Canada Jay or “Whisky Jack” (Perisoreus sp.). He is not in the least
altruistic, though he seems to have in mind some provision for the
Indians, as appears more particularly in story number 4. For the most
part his transformations are semi-accidental. It seems hardly worth
while at the present time to comment in detail on the transformer
concept here, as it is my intention to pursue investigations further in
this general area, in which the transformer appears under various
titles. At Timagami, for instance, he is called Nenebuc or wi·ske·′; at
Mattagami, he is We·′micuze·‵hwa or Nenebuc. The name Wiske·djak and
its variants seem to be more or less characteristic of the Algonquin
bands, in which respect they resemble the Cree. [2] A secondary hero
personage here is Ci′ŋgəbis, the Horned Grebe (Colymbus auritus).
It is important to note, in dealing with myths in this area, that the
scenes of the trickster-transformer’s adventures always lay in well
known localities within the territory of the band among which the story
is told. These vary considerably, so that the stories have to be
gathered independently from each band before any thorough comparison
can be attempted. In these myths the scene of action commences with
Dumoine lake, Ki·we·′goma “Turn-back lake.” The other geographical
references are as follows. The beaver’s cabin in the first story is a
high round-topped mountain near the lake. Then came Coulonge river and
Pembroke lakes. The Calumet chutes are below Allumette island in Ottawa
river; they are called Apwa′ganiba‵utək “Pipe rapids,” because the
stone at that place is suitable for making pipes and was there sought
by the Indians for this purpose. The big river referred to is Ottawa
river, Ki′tcisi·′bi “big river,” down which Wiske·djak’s course seems
to have been. Other general qualities of the transformer attributed to
him by the Indians were given by the informant and appear at the end of
the cycle.
WISKE·DJAK CYCLE.
(1) Wiske·djak Pursues the Beaver.
Wiske·djak was travelling about looking for adventures. He never
succeeded in anything he tried to do. He never did well and was always
hungry. In his travels he came to Ki·we·′goma “Turn-back lake” (Dumoine
lake). Now he even had no canoe, but he was a great swimmer. When he
came to Ki·we·′goma, he found it even too big to swim, so he started to
walk around it. He wanted to hunt beaver. On one side of the lake, he
came to a round, high mountain that looked like a beaver-lodge. In
front of it he found deep water, just as there is in front of a beaver
lodge. And a little way off shore was a little island with many
grasses; just as the beaver provides a winter supply of greens for
himself near his lodge, so this island he supposed to be the beaver’s
winter supply and the mountain his lodge. Wiske·djak wanted to get this
great beaver, but did not know how to get at him. Then he thought of
draining the lake, so he went way around to the lower end and broke
away the dam so that the water would run off. Soon the water began to
go, and Wiske·djak lingered about, waiting for it to get low enough to
get at the beaver. Pretty soon he took a nap. When he woke up, it was
rather late and he hurried back to the mountain only to find that the
beaver had gone. Now he thought the beaver might have escaped over the
dam with the water, so he started back, and sure enough he saw the
beaver going over the dam. “Now,” said he, “I lost my beaver.” He
followed hard after him and had lots of trouble to keep up.
He followed him past Coulonge river and Pembroke lakes. But when the
beaver reached Calumet chutes, he was afraid to go through and took to
the portage. Then Wiske·djak saw him and chased him harder over the
portage. When he got to the lower end, he lost sight of the beaver and
started back up river (Ottawa river). When he got to the upper end of
the portage, he saw fresh tracks. “Well,” said he, “there has been
somebody here. I wonder if I could trace him. We might have something
to eat.” Then he followed the track to the lower end of the portage
where he had already been, but nobody was there. So he went back to the
upper end of the portage and there saw more fresh tracks leading to the
lower end. These he followed to where he had been twice before, but saw
no beaver. He then discovered that they were his own tracks he had been
following and gave it up. The tracks back and forth can be seen plainly
to-day imprinted in the stone of Calumet portage, which the Indians
call Wiske·djak tracks. After this he started off on another trip.
(2) Wiske·djak Kills the Bear and Gets his Head Fastened in the Skull.
Wiske·djak was always in trouble. One time he was going along the shore
of a big lake carrying a big pail. He felt very hungry and was looking
for something to eat. Pretty soon he saw a lot of clumps of high-bush
cranberries and commenced to eat from one little clump to another. Then
he remembered his pail. Said he, “If I could pick my pail full, I would
have a good supply to last me a long while.” So he began filling his
pail, and as he went on he got into some big clumps. Suddenly he saw a
big Bear sitting down among some bushes, every little while rubbing his
eyes and picking out his paws as though something was hurting his eyes.
Wiske·djak watched him a while and thought how nice it would be to kill
him. What a big supply of food he would have then to fill his pail
with! So he went up to the bear and said, “Hello, Bear! What’s the
matter with you?” The Bear answered, “Oh! my eyes are so sore, and I
can’t see where to go. I just wish somebody would help me.” “Well, come
along with me. I will help you. I know where to get some fine medicine
that will fix you up all right.” “Very well,” said the bear.
Wiske·djak led him off to a big bunch of cranberries. There he gathered
a lot of berries and crushed them in his hands. Then he told the Bear
to open his eyes so that he could put the medicine on. “It may hurt you
when I put this medicine in, but it will cure you, so don’t mind it.”
Then Wiske·djak began to rub the cranberry juice into the Bear’s eyes.
The Bear began to roar and tear around with the pain, making a great
time. “But never mind,” said Wiske·djak. “It may hurt, but it will cure
you.” In the meantime he hunted around and got two big stones, and
while the Bear was blinded with the pain, began pounding him on the
head with the stones. He had a hard fight all over the berry-patch, but
finally succeeded and killed the Bear. Then Wiske·djak went back to
where he had left his pail and got his knife. He skinned the bear and
cut him up. He put some of the pieces into his pail to make a bouillon.
Then he got sticks and made a fire for the cooking. Next he got some
birch bark peeled off and cleaned a big space near the fire, spreading
the birch bark to put the meat on. He stuck the pieces of meat on sharp
sticks. When they were well roasted, he spread them on the bark to cool
off before eating them. He left the bear’s head for the last, then he
began to eat lots of the bear’s fat and the meat. He had a great big
pile of it. He sat down to enjoy his meal.
Now, just as he was ready to begin, the wind began to blow a little,
and at the same time from above came a little cry, “Whun!” He looked
around, because it bothered him, but could not see anything, so he
started to eat again. Then the same little cry sounded again, “Whun!”
and he stopped to look around, but couldn’t see anything. The third
time he started to eat, the same cry sounded, and then he got up and
hunted for the cause, for it bothered him and was spoiling his good
time. When he looked up, he saw a tree that had been blown down,
resting in the crotch of another tree over him that rubbed when the
wind blew and made this noise. Said Wiske·djak, “You had better stop
that noise until I get through eating. I don’t like it at all.” “Oh!”
said the tree, “I have to do it. I can’t stop it.” Whenever Wiske·djak
started to eat again, the wind blew a little. Then Wiske·djak climbed
the tree and put his hands in between the tree and the crotch to stop
the rubbing, and when the wind blew a little the space spread and
closed again. It pinned his hands in the crotch and held him fast. “Let
me go! Let me go!” he begged of the tree. “I must get down to my meat.”
But the only answer he got was, “No,” and there he stayed.
Pretty soon when he looked down, he saw a Squirrel come and take some
of his meat. He shouted for him to go away without any success. Next
came the Marten, then the Fisher, then some Wildcats, then Ravens, and
in fact all kinds of animals came and began to eat up his supply of
meat. He tried to drive them away, but couldn’t. The more he shouted at
them, the more they danced and sang and ran off mocking him. They
carried away all his pieces of meat to their dens, but didn’t touch the
pail of grease. By the time all the meat was gone, a little breeze
arose and the tree let him go. When he got down, all was cleared away.
There were not even bones enough for bouillon. There was only the
grease in the pail. “Well,” said he, “I’ll have grease anyway.”
The Bear’s bladder was hanging in some willow trees where he had thrown
it when he had cut him up. And he went over and filled the bladder with
the grease, so that he could cool it. He tied the neck of the bladder
so that it would hold the grease. “Now,” said he to himself, “even if
they have taken all my meat and bones, I’ll have the grease. I’ll just
tie it by a string to a stick and let it float in the river until it is
cool, and then I’ll make a good meal of that anyway.” So he tied the
bladder of grease to a stick and let it swing in the current of the
river to cool it. A Muskrat came along. “Kwe, Muskrat! Where are you
going?” said Wiske·djak. “Oh! anywhere,” answered the Muskrat. “Well,
then, come work for me,” said Wiske·djak. “Come, tie this bladder on
your tail and swim further out in the deep water where it is cold and
cool it for me. Don’t swim too fast and go easy or you might break the
bladder and spill my grease.” “All right,” said the Muskrat, “I will do
it for you and you will tell me how fast to go.” Then Wiske·djak tied
it to his tail and the Muskrat started off with it. He made a plan
meanwhile. The Muskrat swam way out. “Hold on,” said Wiske·djak,
“you’re going too fast.” But the Muskrat swam farther and when he got
far enough, he snapped the string with his tail, broke the bladder, and
dove out of sight. The grease spread all over the water. Wiske·djak
cried and ran out into the water and tried to scoop up the grease in
his hands to save some of it, but it all escaped him.
When he had lost his grease, he thought of his bouillon, and went back
to his pail, but when he got there, he found that the Wolverine had
come and eaten it all up. Then he searched about to see if he could
even find a small bone. There was not a thing left. After a while he
saw a string of little ants going back and forth from under a log. “I
wonder what they are doing,” thought he. “Maybe they have something
hidden under there.” He followed them and looked under the log, and
there were the ants eating away on the Bear’s skull, devouring the
brains. “If I could get in there myself, I could get some of those
brains,” said he. He tried different ways to reach in, but could not
get at it. “If I could only put my head in that hole, I could eat some.
I wish my head was as small as a snake’s head, then I could get it in.”
Then his head began to get small like a snake’s head and he poked it
inside the skull and began eating a great snack. He licked the skull
clean and said, “Well, I had a meal. Now, if I could only get up and
out, I would be all right.” But when he tried to get his head clear of
the skull, he could not, because his head had turned back to its
original size and was fast inside the skull. He couldn’t see where he
was going.
Then he sat down on a log, thinking what to do next. “If I knock my
head against a rock, I might break my own head.” Then he thought of the
Indians and started off in search of a camp to get help. He was blinded
by the skull and could not see where he was going. Soon he banged
against a tree. “What’s your name?” he asked of the tree. “Maple,” was
the answer. “Well, I’m in high ground. I won’t find any people camping
way up here.” Soon he banged against another tree. “What’s your name?”
he asked. “Beech,” was the answer. “I’m still in high ground,” said he;
“I must strike lower ground.” Soon he banged against another tree and
asked its name. It answered, “White-pine.” “Still in high ground,” said
he, “but getting lower.” The next tree he bumped against proved to be a
red pine. “Still in high ground. No Indian camp here.” At last he
banged against a balsam and then a spruce. “I am getting on low ground
now,” said he. Pretty soon he got into ragged bush and struck a
rough-bark tree. “What’s your name?” he asked. “Cedar,” said the tree.
“Aha! Now I’m in low ground and may strike a camp at last.” He went on
and soon got into very tight bush and struck an alder. “Aha! Now, I am
close to a lake. I will soon find a camp.” Next he got tangled up in
knee-high twigs. He asked them what their name was and they told him
willows. He said, “Am I near a lake?” “Yes,” they answered. “Can you
see people?” “Yes, up at yonder point there is a camp,” they answered.
“Is it far?” he asked. “No, not far,” said they. So he went on and got
into something still lower. “What’s your name?” he asked. “Grass,” was
the answer. Now he walked on and got into water, deeper and deeper. “If
the people would only see me, I would be all right,” said he. Next he
started to swim. He splashed about and made a noise to attract the
people if any were about. Suddenly he remembered about the skull on his
head and said, “If the people see me, they might think that I’m a bear
and try to kill me.” So he swam on.
Sure enough the Indians saw him. They recognized Wiske·djak by his
antics and thought he was trying to play some trick on them, so they
laughed about it and quietly paddled up close to him. They pretended
they thought he was a bear and made out as though they were going to
kill him. Wiske·djak swam as hard as he could for his life. “Hand me my
axe,” said one of the Indians, “till I kill him.” “Stand aside till I
shoot him with my arrow,” said another. “Hurry up, paddle hard or we’ll
lose him,” said a third. They all kept shouting and making a great
pretence to get after him, all the time laughing at Wiske·djak and
splashing with their paddles as though trying to keep up with him.
Wiske·djak all the time struggled ahead in great fear, expecting any
moment to be killed. At last he got across the lake on the other shore
and his feet struck bottom. He landed on a flat rock with the Indians
behind him. Suddenly he slipped and fell on his head. The bear skull
cracked and fell off and left his head free. Then he saw the Indians.
“Don’t shoot! Don’t shoot!” cried he. “I’m Wiske·djak.” Then he took to
the bush and escaped.
(3) Wiske·djak Invites the Ducks to a Dance.
Wiske·djak was always hungry. One time, in the autumn of the year, he
noticed the flocks of ducks flying south and how fat they were. Then he
made up his mind to try and get some for a good supply against the
winter. He decided to make a big dance among the birds in the autumn
and to invite all the ducks and geese to come, so that he could kill
them. Then he set to work and built a big wigwam and cleaned a nice
place around the outside. He built a little fire in the middle of the
wigwam and fixed a nice space all around it for the dance to take
place. Then he made his door of birch bark, so that the centre stick,
which keeps the bark spread, extended over the ends of the bark and
kept it from opening inwards. Now, everything was about ready, so he
went to see a Duck and said to him, “Soon, now, you will be going away
south to be gone all winter and not to come back until next spring. It
will be a long time before I will see you again, so I want to get up a
dance for you all. You go and invite all your friends—the Ducks, the
Geese and the others who go south.” “All right,” said the Duck.
So he got ready and went back to his wigwam to wait for the company. To
help invite the birds, he sat down in front of it and got his drum and
rattle and began singing a song of invitation.
As the ducks came flying by overhead, they heard his song and came down
to join the party. He sang his song and told them, “You are going away
to be gone until next spring, and I won’t see you for a long time, so I
want to get up a dance for you all, before you go.” A lot of them came
down and he gathered a crowd outside. Then he said, “Now, let us go
inside and have our good time,” and he opened the door and they all
went in. Then he fixed the small fire in the middle so that it would
just give enough light to see a little. “Now,” said he, “you must obey
the rule of this dance and do whatever you are told when you hear the
order.” He sat down on one side of the fire near the door and they all
began dancing around. They got well mixed up before long—the geese,
ducks, loons, and all kinds of birds, and Ciŋgəbis [3] was there too.
When he got them warmed up to the dance, they all got mixed up and soon
Wiske·djak said, “Now, you must all close your eyes and not open them
until I give the word.” Then they obeyed and kept on dancing with their
eyes closed. Then, while their eyes were closed, Wiske·djak got up and
began wringing the neck of one after another. The noise of the dancing
prevented them from hearing what he was doing.
Pretty soon, Ciŋgəbis began to suspect that Wiske·djak was moving
around, so he danced over into a dark corner where Wiske·djak could not
see him and opened one of his eyes a little to peep out. There he saw
Wiske·djak going among the dancers, wringing their necks, and he called
out, “Wiske·djak is killing you! Fly!” Then they opened their eyes and
saw what was happening and took wing and flew away. But little Ciŋgəbis
was way up in the corner. When the birds rushed for the door, Ciŋgəbis
got there last. Wiske·djak jumped at him and gave him a kick behind
that knocked him out of shape. Then he kicked him out of the door and
cried, “Now go, you little rascal.” Ciŋgəbis flew off. Ever since then
he has been out of shape. His feet are so far back that he cannot walk
on land. Wiske·djak did not eat the ducks he had killed after all. He
was a curious lad, that Wiske·djak. (I wasn’t with him any longer. I
left him there.) [4]
(4) Wiske·djak Anum Suum Urit and Originates Rock-weed and Red Willow
from the Scabs.
Now Wiske·djak went on after he had kicked Ciŋgəbis. He saw the flocks
of birds rising in the sky and flying overhead for the south to where
it is warmer. When he lost sight of them, he went back into his wigwam
and looked over what birds he had killed. He wondered how he could cook
them best, so they would taste good. Then he made up his mind to build
a big fire outside his wigwam. When he got the fire well started, he
got a stick and sharpened its point; then with this he loosened up the
ground all around and under the fire. When the fire burned down, it
left the sand red hot round about, and the holes too. Then, where the
holes were, he stuck the fowl head-first with their feathers all on
just as he had killed them, leaving their feet sticking out above the
ground. Then he put on more fire to roast them well in the hot sand. He
stayed up part of the night tending his fire, until he grew drowsy.
“Now,” said he, “I’ll take a little sleep while my birds are cooking in
the sand.” But he grew uneasy lest somebody might come while he was
sleeping and steal his birds. Now Wiske·djak had the power to make
anything answer him when he spoke to it, no matter what it might be. So
he decided to lie down in a clear space facing the lake where people
would come in a canoe if any were around. He lay down ano suo lacui
adverso, resting on his knees and elbows. “Now,” declared he, “I’m
going to have a little sleep. You watch and tell me when you see any
Indians, if they should come in a canoe. Wake me up if you see
anybody.” So he went to sleep. After a while anus ejus clamavit, saying
that an Indian was coming. Wiske·djak jumped up and looked around
everywhere, but could not see anybody. So he lay down again and ano suo
idem dixit ut antea. But just as he was going to sleep, anus iterum
clamavit, saying that a canoe was approaching from around the point.
Wiske·djak jumped up again and looked all around, but he could not see
any canoe. He then grew angry and anum suum vehementes objurgavit and
warned it not to tell any more lies, as he wanted to go to sleep. Then
he lay down and fell asleep again.
Now this time there were some Indians coming around the point in a
canoe and they saw the smoke from Wiske·djak’s fire on the shore of the
lake. Seeing something strange-looking near the fire—they could not
well make out what—they paddled near. As they drifted quietly in shore,
looking sharp to see what curious creature it might be, they came quite
close. One of the Indians said, “Look out, it might be Wiske·djak up to
some more of his mischief.” So one of the men went ashore and said,
“I’ll go see who it is and what he is doing.” Then he went up the shore
to where Wiske·djak was crouching asleep and looked at him. He then
found out who it was, Wiske·djak, and saw the fire burning, but
couldn’t see anything cooking. But at last he examined the fire-place
and saw the fowls’ legs sticking out of the sand around the fire. He
stepped closer to the fire and saw that they were the legs of all kinds
of ducks and geese. Then he went down to the water and told the rest of
the men what he had found. Said they, “We will all go up and take
Wiske·djak’s ducks and geese out of the sand and play a trick on him.”
So they got out of the canoe and took their paddles. They dug up all
the fowl with the paddles and twisted the legs off them. The legs they
stuck back in the sand just as Wiske·djak had placed them. They then
took the ducks and geese and started off as fast as possible before
Wiske·djak should wake up and see them.
Pretty soon Wiske·djak did wake up, as he had slept enough. He got up
and looked about. Nobody was around and things looked quiet. “I guess
my food is pretty well cooked by this time,” said he. Then he pulled up
one of the duck legs from the sand, and ate the meat on the shank. He
went all around pulling the fowls’ legs out of the sand and eating
them. “They are very well done to pull off so easily. Oh, they must be
nice and tender!” thought he. The only thing he noticed was that the
legs came very freely from the sand. “They must be very well cooked to
come out of the sand so freely.” He took a digging stick and commenced
to dig them out. He commenced shovelling away the sand where one of his
ducks was, but found the hole empty, and he dug all around in the sand
but found they were all taken away. He could not find one bird. At last
he got tired of searching and then ano suo dixit, “So I thought I left
you to watch for me while I was asleep!” Et anus [5]respondit, “When I
was watching for you and woke you up, you were not satisfied. You gave
me a scolding. So when the Indians did come, I thought I would leave
you to do your own watching.”
Then Wiske·djak grew angry and planned anum suum castigare. He got wood
and made another big fire. He got it burning well until there were a
lot of red coals. “Now,” ano suo dixit, “I’ll give you a little
punishment for letting my ducks and geese go to the Indians.” He went
over to the fire and straddled his legs over the fire-place, sitting
over the red coals. Anum suum paulum urere incepit ut eum castigaret,
but he stood the pain the fire gave him. Soon his flesh commenced
sizzling, making a sputtering noise “Tsii!” as it roasted nicely. He
heard it squealing. “You can squeal all you like till you get enough of
a scorching,” ano suo dixit Wiske·djak. When he thought it was burnt
enough, he got up and started walking off. He started off to look for
something else to do, ano suo maxime dolente.
He wandered across swamps and mountains and around lakes, suffering
with his burns. All at once he came upon a little flock of partridges
newly hatched, and their mother was away. “Kwe!” said Wiske·djak, “What
are you doing here?” “Nothing,” said the little Partridges, “just
staying here.” “Where is your mother?” asked Wiske·djak. “Away
hunting,” replied they. “What’s your name?” he asked of one. Each
little Partridge told him its name until he came to the last, the
youngest one. “What’s your name?” he demanded. “Kuckuŋge·′sįs, suddenly
frightened!” answered the little Partridge. “Oh you!” said Wiske·djak,
“what can you frighten?” Then he took a lump of soft mud and threw it
over all the young Partridges, so that he almost covered them with the
dirty mud. “What can you frighten now?” said he. Then he left and
walked along until he came to a high mountain. He was getting very sore
from his burns and anus [6]maxime doluit. When he climbed to the top
of the mountain he found a nice breeze blowing across it. He found a
high rock swept by the cooling breeze. “Now,” thought he to himself,
“if I can find a nice place on the highest of these rocks I can rest
myself and let the cool breeze cool my burns.” So he searched around
the mountain until he came to a place clear of trees where there was a
great chasm below, hundreds of feet deep, with a nice cool breeze
coming over. Here he lay down right on the edge where most of the
breeze was. He found the wind very good. He got relief from his
suffering burns. His pains had been so bad and he had walked so far
that he was very tired and sleepy. Soon he was fast asleep on the brink
of the cliff.
By this time the old Partridge had got home to his young and found them
all covered with black mud. The old Partridge said to his young, “What
has happened to you? Where did you go? Anywhere?” “No,” they answered,
“nowhere.” “Well, what did this?” he asked. “Well, Wiske·djak came
along to-day after you went away. He commenced asking us questions and
we answered him as well as we could. He asked us our names and we all
told him. But one, our youngest brother, was the last to be asked, and
when he told his name Wiske·djak got angry and said, ‘What could you
frighten?’ Then he got mud and threw it over us and left us in this
mess.” So the old Partridge was angry. He cleaned the young ones up,
washed and dried them, and gave them their food which he had brought
back for them. Then he asked them which way Wiske·djak went and they
showed him the direction. Then the old Partridge took the trail the
little ones showed him and followed Wiske·djak across the swamps, over
the mountains, and around the lakes. He tracked him to the big high
mountains. He kept on until he reached the high rock of the cliff, and
there he saw Wiske·djak lying on the edge of the rock sleeping soundly.
The old Partridge went alongside of him on the upper side of the rock,
above him. He spread his wings and went right up close to Wiske·djak’s
ears, and shouted, screeched, and clapped his wings. Wiske·djak woke up
with a start and jumped up. He saw something above him making a
terrible noise and took such a fright that he fell over the edge of the
rock. “Now,” said the old Partridge, “you will know better what
Kuckuŋge·′sįs is now.”
So poor Wiske·djak tumbled down the cliff, banging and sliding on his
hind-quarters, and scraped all the scabs off his burns. When he fell to
the bottom of the rocky cliff, he lay stunned for some time, but after
a while he arose. He started to crawl away on his hands and knees. Soon
he saw a lake at the bottom of the cliff. His sores pained him very
badly. Thought he to himself, “There’s a nice lake; now I’ll go down
there and cool myself in the water.” He started crawling toward the
shore. Before he came to the edge of the water there were a lot of low
willows he had to crawl through. As he went over them, he looked back
where he had come and saw all his blood from the sores stuck on to the
willow twigs. Then said he, “Now you young willows will be called ‘red
willows’ from this time on. And when the Indians get short of tobacco
they will cut you and scrape the bark off you and dry you and use you
to smoke for their tobacco.” He looked up higher toward the rocks where
he fell down. There he saw his scabs sticking to the rocks where he had
stuck, some large, some small. Said he to the rocks, “You will hold on
to these scabs. Don’t ever let go. And when the Indians are hard put to
it for something to eat, you will give them some of my scabs and tell
them to wash them in cold water and boil them with rabbit meat or any
kind of meat or fish. It will furnish them with fine soup, those small
ones. And now the biggest scabs—you can tell them that if they have any
kind of oil they can oil them a little and roast them before the fire
and that it will give them good nourishment when they are hard put to
it for something to eat.” So from that time the Indians have used red
willow bark to smoke and the “rock weed” to eat when they have needed
them. [7] By this time anus Wiske·djaki magnopere doluit and he thought
he would go into the water for a while and cool his burns.
So I had some travelling to do and I left him there, and I don’t know
where he went.
(5) Wiske·djak Disguises himself as a Lynx.
One time in winter Wiske·djak was going along and fell upon an Indian’s
trail. He followed the tracks of the snowshoes and soon came to a place
where the Indian had set his rabbit snares. Wiske·djak saw the rabbits
in the snares. He followed on and finally came to where a Lynx was
caught in a snare. He thought it was a very curious looking creature.
The Lynx’s eyes were bulging out from being choked in the snare, and
his teeth showed. Now Wiske·djak admired the Lynx’s bulging eyes.
“Don’t you think your eyes are very pretty?” he asked the Lynx. “No,
not very,” answered the Lynx, because every thing living or dead had to
reply when Wiske·djak asked it a question. Wiske·djak was very eager to
get pretty eyes like the Lynx’s, so he made a fire and roasted the poor
Lynx to get its skin off. Then Wiske·djak took out his own eyes and
pulled the Lynx’s skin on over his own head, so that the bulging eyes
of the Lynx fitted into his own eye sockets.
Then Wiske·djak went on his travels, very well pleased with his looks.
But he found out that with the Lynx’s eyes he could only see well at
night. So after a while he became dissatisfied with the new eyes, but
he had thrown his own away, so he had to make the best of it. He could
only travel at night on account of his new eyes. So he had to make his
living on rabbits, stealing them from the Indians’ snares. They were
all he could get. One day, as he was going along, he stopped and looked
at his tracks. Then he discovered that his paws were big and broad and
so spread out when he walked that they resembled snowshoes. They were
so broad that he could walk over the snow without snowshoes. So he went
on.
One day he decided to watch the Indians, so he sat down on a log near a
hunter’s path and waited for someone to come along. He waited all night
and part of the day. Finally some Indians came along the path to visit
their rabbit snares. As they passed they found the rabbits stolen from
all their snares, but they did not mind it very much. Some time after,
one of the Indians’ little children came along the trail and saw
Wiske·djak with his big face and bulging eyes sitting on the stump. The
child ran back to camp and told his parents that he saw a big wildcat
with bulging eyes staring at him from a stump. Then the father of the
child took his “arrow-head club,” [8] and went to where the child said
he saw the wildcat. Then he started clubbing Wiske·djak to kill him.
The fight was getting pretty bad, when Wiske·djak cried out, “Hold on,
hold on! it isn’t a lynx, it is Wiske·djak that you are pounding to
death!” And Wiske·djak tore off the lynx skin, and pitched it away.
Then he took to the bush. That’s the last I saw of him.
(6) Wiske·djak’s Love Affair.
Wiske·djak never got married to a woman. But he pretended to get
married. One time he dressed himself like a woman, with skirts, and
tried to deceive a young man, so that he thought Wiske·djak was his
wife. Wiske·djak pretended to be jealous of the man when he went away.
The other people knew that it was Wiske·djak all the time and laughed
to themselves and made fun of the pair. The young man lived with
Wiske·djak for some time, thinking it was his wife. But the other
people made fun of the young man so much that at last he left
Wiske·djak. Several times he got young men to live with him as their
wife, but at last they all left him and he went away by himself. He was
a queer fellow, that Wiske·djak. He never got married because he would
not be bothered with a woman, as he had to be travelling all the time.
(7) Ciŋgəbis.
Ciŋgəbis was a remarkable fellow, a wonderful diver who could stay
underneath the water all day if he wanted to. He was married and lived
with his wife’s people. One time he had some kind of a dispute with
them and they would not give in to him. So he said he would go away. As
it was winter time, there was a water hole in the ice on the lake, and
he went down and slid into the water and disappeared. His relatives
spent all day hunting for him along the shores, thinking he might come
up along the edge, but he did not. Then they went home and gave him up.
In a few months, when his wife’s brothers were out on the lake in their
canoe, they spied a little duck swimming a long way off, and paddled up
to him. This was Ciŋgəbis. When they got near, they recognized him and
asked him, “Are you not Ciŋgəbis?” “Yes,” said he. “We thought you were
drowned. Are you coming back again?” “No,” said he, and fluttered his
wings and sank out of sight, leaving only his bill above the water,
which they could not see. This time he stayed under all day, and when
night came, he left the country. His wife’s people thought he was
either dead or gone.
Then Ciŋgəbis travelled to another village, where he heard there was a
beautiful girl. When he saw her all dressed up in fine clothes, new and
beaded, he wanted to marry her, and asked her parents for her. “Who are
you?” they asked him. “I am Ciŋgəbis,” said he. “Why, we heard you were
drowned,” said they. “It is not true. Here I am. I am Ciŋgəbis and
alive.” “You cannot be Ciŋgəbis, because there is only one Ciŋgəbis,
and we heard he was drowned. But if you are, you cannot marry the girl,
because you have another wife.” Now Ciŋgəbis wanted the girl and stayed
in the camp. He would not leave. So that night they put one of the
girl’s brothers to sleep alongside of him, so that he could not
secretly get to the wigwam where the girls slept. During the night he
talked with the brother and told him that he would show them how he
could stay under water if they would give him the girl. The next
morning the young man told his parents about it and they talked it
over. They thought it might be good for their boys to know how to stay
under water, and at last gave their consent. So they gave Ciŋgəbis the
girl, and the next day went out on the lake to see him dive. The whole
family got in the canoe and they paddled out to the middle of the lake.
“Now,” said he, “let me out here.” Then he slid into the water and with
his body stiff sank slowly until he was out of sight. Then he struck
out under water and reached the shore where he hid under some rushes,
just leaving his bill above the water. His nostrils were at the end of
his bill, so he could breathe with only a bit above water. They waited
for him half the day and, though the water was calm, could not see him,
so they gave him up and went home. That night he came back, to their
surprise.
They planned to go out again the next day and see him dive again. The
next day they went out and Ciŋgəbis dove again and swam among some
reeds. He got under one lying flat, and pushed it just a little above
the water so that his nostrils were out of water, yet covered by the
stem of the rush. There he stayed a couple of hours out of sight. When
they were about to leave again, Ciŋgəbis shouted, “He! Here I am. Can
you see me?” They looked all around but could not see him. Then he came
up in sight and went back to the canoe. He explained how his nostrils
were out at the end of his bill and how he got under the reeds and hid
there. Then he explained how in the winter time he could dive through
an air hole in the ice and swim to where the rushes grew up through the
ice, pull down one of the stalks, and put his bill in the opening and
get all the air he wanted. Said he, “I can stay there a week or a
month, if I want, only I get hungry. Then I dive to the bottom and eat
some little mussels and things on the bottom and come up to the hole
again. In that way I can get along under the ice all winter if I like.”
That is how he did.
Now, before long, his first wife’s family heard that Ciŋgəbis was alive
and living with another woman. They got angry and began to conjure to
bring sickness upon his new wife and her family. When his new wife and
her people heard of this, they were angry at Ciŋgəbis and wanted him to
go away. But he would not consent. At last he made an offer, because
his mother-in-law wanted her daughter to leave him. He told them that
he would give up his new wife and her family if they would succeed in
getting her away from him unknown to him. When they heard this, they
began planning. For a whole year they thought of different plans. At
last the old mother-in-law said she had a plan, and told everyone in
the family to help her get up a big dance and invite all the people to
come. Ciŋgəbis was very jealous of his wife and had his camp apart from
the others, lest some man might take a fancy to his wife and take her
away. His jealousy was known everywhere and he never let her out of
sight. Knowing this, the old mother-in-law made her plan. She sent a
special invitation to Ciŋgəbis and his wife and told her sons to try to
get him to come. Now Ciŋgəbis suspected some trick and told his wife
not to go to the dance. “If I have to go, you must stay here at home
and not move away from the wigwam.”
When the night of the dance came, they got everything ready—the drum
and rattles, and everybody was coming from every camp. They prepared a
kind of drink out of boiled bark and herbs with tobacco juice in it,
that would make people dizzy when they drank it. Ciŋgəbis did not want
to go to the dance at first, but everybody coaxed him until he started.
But he told his wife to stay at home and not leave for anything. Now
this was just what the old woman depended on, because she knew how
jealous Ciŋgəbis was. When the dance began, everybody began drinking
some of the strong herb liquor and it went to their heads and made them
feel good, and dizzy. The old woman told her sons to keep Ciŋgəbis well
supplied with the drink and not to let him leave until late. She then
waited until the dancing was well started and everybody was warmed up
to it. Then she quietly slipped away when she saw that Ciŋgəbis was
dancing hard and feeling good with the drink. He had almost forgotten
about his wife and what might happen. The old woman went off into the
woods to where there was a dead spruce stump that was full of ants. She
cut off the stump and got a piece about the length of a person. The
ants are asleep in the cold of night and will not rouse when disturbed.
The stump she took with her to Ciŋgəbis’ wigwam and quietly called to
her daughter inside. “Come, daughter, I have come to take you home away
from Ciŋgəbis,” she whispered. “You get up out of bed and leave
everything as it is.” “All right,” said the girl, and she packed up a
few of her things and came out. Then the old woman took the stump full
of ants in and put it beneath the rabbitskin blanket, covered it up
just like the girl’s figure sleeping there, and the two then fled to
the mother’s camp.
Ciŋgəbis stayed late at the dance. He drank a great deal of the liquor
and got pretty dizzy before he thought about going home. At last he
left the dance and started for his wigwam. He entered quietly. “Are you
asleep?” he asked of his wife. There was no answer. “Aha! that’s good,”
said he. “I’ll let her sleep and then there will be no danger of her
being carried away tonight, as I am very sleepy with my weariness and
cannot keep awake to watch her tonight. That’s good; she is sound
asleep.” And he felt her blanket and found what he thought was her
figure beneath the rabbitskin. Then he lay down quietly beside her, so
as not to awaken her, and pretty soon was fast asleep.
Before long some of the ants got warmed up by his body and began
crawling over him. “Oh! what’s that crawling over me! Do you know what
it is that is creeping over us?” he asked his wife, and gave the stump
another poke with his elbow. No answer. “Well, you are asleep yet. But
that’s good. There won’t be any danger of your walking about the camp
attracting the other men while I am asleep. But oh! how those things
bite. I wonder what they are!” Then he dozed off again and was awakened
again by the ants stinging him. He managed to bear it all night, and in
the morning woke up suddenly, all bitten up. He jumped up, threw off
the rabbitskin blanket, and instead of his wife there lay the old
rotten spruce stump swarming with ants.
(8) Remarks About Wiske·djak.
TIMISKAMING ALGONQUIN TEXT.
wiske·djak wi·′egiskenda‵go zi′gobαn igi·′bi·
Wiske·djak was always doing mischief, it is said, in his lifetime
wi·′gipəmaʻtαzi·matc anicəna′bi mɔ·′jak ano′tcke·‵gon
living among the Indians, always everything
ogi·′jini‵gwuna‵dji·an wi·′djini‵cəna′binʻ i′yanotc mɔ·′jαk
doing what he could teasing his countrymen Indians. Everywhere always
ki·′bəba‵ma·‵dəzitc e′ji· ani′cənabe·ka‵nik ki·bəba′ndə
going about during his life wherever there were Indians. Going about
mi·′gucka‵djiatc wi·′djənicəna‵bi owi·′etenda‵go zi′gobαn
teasing his countrymen. He was funny, it is said,
sa′wi·na‵nawe i·yeja′nawe ega
at the same time to have him about for all that. He had
u·jo′dji·ma‵nəs·ik mɔ·′jαk ki·gmita′zəga·‵mɛ·tc kenowekwa·′s·e
no canoe; always he walked about the land a great distance,
ki·′bəba aye′ja ke′gatʻ enigu′kʻkami·gaʻgⁱ
going here and about there. Almost travelled over the whole world
ak·i′ŋg ki·no′ndaga‵newe ki·ʻbəba mi·gu′cka‵dzitc
on earth. We heard tell of him going about doing mischief.
kaye′gaʻk·i‵nəge‵gon ogi·′gəcki‵t·on tci·a′nəmit·aʻgʷət·o‵tc
He had everything so that it would answer him when he spoke to it;
miʻti′g·onʻ nibi·′ awe′ʻsi·zα‵nʻ ano′tc awi·′αnʻ awe′gwe‵nəc·əʻnʻ
trees, water, animals, and all other small creatures
ogi·′nəkwe‵ʻtaʻgonʻ i·gαno′nac mi·′sαmini‵k teba′dji·mα‵k
would reply to him when he spoke. That is as much as can be told
wiske·djak.
of Wiske·djak.
FREE TRANSLATION.
Wiske·djak was always doing mischief in his lifetime among the Indians,
so it is said. He was always doing everything he could to plague his
countrymen, the Indians. He spent his life going about everywhere where
there were Indians, to tease them and play mischief among them. Because
he was so funny, it was thought good to have him going about in spite
of his mischief. He had no canoe, so he always walked about, going
great distances here and there and everywhere, until he had travelled
almost all over the world, where he was heard of doing his mischievous
pranks. He had the power to make everything in creation answer him when
he spoke to it; trees, water, animals, and all the other little
creatures would reply to him when he spoke. That is all that can be
said of Wiske·djak.
(9) Further Comment on Wiske·djak.
Wiske·djak, “meat bird,” was a great mischief maker. He was always a
roamer, always hungry. He used to visit from one family of Indians to
another, but he never liked to stay long with one, so soon he would
move away and go near other people. He was always looking for trouble
and got it too, but in spite of all he was never killed. Indeed, nobody
ever wanted to kill him, even though he was causing so much mischief,
because the people liked to have him around. So he never came to an
end. All of Wiske·djak’s pranks were done at different times long ago,
not all one after another at one time, as it might seem. He is still
living somewhere, but he is very quiet now, as we don’t hear of him
doing anything new nowadays.
TIMISKAMING FOLK-LORE.
(1)
Wi′ndigo: a man-eating creature who roams through woods devouring
luckless victims. He is believed to have commenced as a hunter who
became lost in the bush, and lost all his provisions and clothing. Then
he preyed upon anything he could find, like an animal.
(2)
Pa·′gukʻ: a creature of bones, a skeleton, that clatters through the
forest, making a great rattling and squeaking noise. When this is
heard, it is understood as an omen that some friend will be lost.
Pa·′gukʻ is accounted for by the story of a hunter who got starved out
in the bush. Before he died he wished that his life and the strength of
his flesh might be transferred to his bones. He got his wish, and his
strength went into his bones when his flesh fell away. Whenever he
wished, he could fly through the air as though on wings.
(3)
The constellation Ursa Major (Great Bear or Dipper) is called wədji·′g
“fisher” or “black cat” (Mustela pennanti). The four main stars of the
group form the body of the animal; the stars trailing behind (the
handle of the dipper) represent the fisher’s tail, the bend showing the
bent tail of the animal. The story accounts for the presence of the
fisher in the sky, relating how the various animals tried to reach the
north star, but eventually froze to death. The fisher is still trying
to reach it and he is the nearest, but he only keeps going round and
round it (representing the revolution of the constellation about the
North Star) without being able to get there.
(4)
The Northern Lights are called wa′t·e “illumination” (reduplicated
wawa′t·e is “lightning” from thunder). They are caused by the waves
splashing against the rocky shores of the northern seas (James bay),
which produce a sort of reflected glow. The seething noise which is
sometimes heard when the aurora is visible is attributed to the
grinding of the rocks and gravel along the shore of the sea driven by
the action of water and wind in the north.
The Indians here think that within two days after the aurora is seen
they will get a heavy wind storm. They also state that wild geese
require a day and a night to reach Lake Timiskaming from James bay when
they migrate, thus showing the speed of the wind by comparison.
(5)
The Rainbow is called wədα′dgwanəbi·sanʻ “forms from the water,” since
the phenomenon is believed to be caused by the mist from breakers on
some great body of water, just as a rainbow will appear above the spray
along the seashore or hanging in the mist above some waterfalls.
(6)
The Milky Way is bine′s·imi·k·αnʻ “bird’s path,” because it is by the
Milky Way that the fowl and birds follow their northward or southward
course in their migrations. It guides them southward in the autumn and
back again in the spring. Less frequently the Milky Way is called
dji·ba′imi·k·αnʻ “spirit path” over which the spirits of the dead are
thought to journey.
(7)
To see a white animal is a sign of bad luck to a hunter. “Once a man
went hunting. After he had been travelling all day and taken a few
animals, he saw a bear that was half black and half white. Then he said
to himself, ‘I must not hunt any more this trip. If I do, some harm
will come to my family.’ So he went home.”—“If a hunter sees an albino
animal he must stop hunting or evil will befall him or some member of
his family.”
(8)
To find a dwarfed animal is an omen of misfortune. “Once two men were
out on a long hunting trip. Soon after they had begun trapping, they
found a dwarfed beaver in one of the traps. It was not small because it
was young, but they could see it was an old one, but much undersized.
When the older of the two men saw this, he said, ‘We must go home at
once and give up hunting because something is wrong at home.’ Although
they had been gone only a short time, they turned back, and when they
got home, they found that one of his sons was dead and that the family
was waiting to bury him.”
(9)
To foretell what kind of animals will be killed the next day by men
just before going hunting, a partridge breast bone is burnt or scorched
before the fire. The shape of the scorched portion suggests, by a vague
resemblance, the form of some animal.
(10)
The tips of the wings of birds that are killed for food are preserved
about the camp for good luck, or, as they say, “to ask for more luck.”
Some hunters also preserve the skulls of all the game they kill. “If
they throw these parts of the animals away, they won’t be able to find
what creatures they may look for afterward.”
(11)
If blue bottle flies are killed it will bring rain.
(12)
If, in winter, rabbit’s hair is thrown into the smoke of a fire, as it
rises in the heat toward the sky, it will cause snow the next day.
Children are scolded when they do these things at the wrong time.
(13)
In the body of a fish are various bones which the Indians liken to
different utensils and tools in the hunter’s outfit. There is a gun,
spear, bow and arrow, knife, paddle, sled, snowshoe, awl, etc. This is
merely a saying.
(14)
Another idea is that a “left-handed person is clever, because he fools
people by the way he does things.”
(15) Bear Feast.
The following description of the ceremony attending the eating of a
bear is based on the accounts of three participants.
When a bear has been killed, the families in the neighbourhood assemble
at a camp conveniently near. The hunter who has killed the bear becomes
the host of the occasion, which is called mα′gwαce·‵ “feast.” Slabs of
birch bark are spread upon a clear space of ground to serve as a sort
of table. The carcass is then butchered, the head being cut off,
including the first vertebra, the long piece of breast fat is also cut
off with the head, so that the two remain together. The head with this
mass of breast fat is then put into a separate cooking vessel. Then the
birch bark slabs, often 12 feet long, forming the cover of some wigwam,
are covered with the cut up portions of the meat. Birch bark dishes are
placed for each participant on the bark, with extra dishes for the
gravy. The grease from the cooking vessels is then collected and put
into a separate vessel to cool, so that it will be thick enough to
drink. When the meat has been boiled properly, all the guests are
seated at their places around the bark spread. Often they have a dance
around it at this time. Before they begin to eat, the chief goes around
to each guest and with a big wooden spoon, holding about a cupful and a
half, gives each a spoonful of grease. Then they begin to eat.
When the feast is about half through, the chief gets up and decorates
the bear’s head with bright coloured ribbons about six inches long
attached to little cedar sticks about four inches long, with their ends
split to hold the ribbons. These ribbon streamers are stuck into the
fat and about the head. Then the head itself is impaled on a stick and,
carrying this in his hand, the chief dances twice around the company,
singing a tune to a burden of syllables. After this performance the
chief plants the stick with the head upon it in the middle of the
spread before all the guests, where it is left. Then they finish
eating.
After the feast the oldest and most venerable man in the camp is
presented with the head and the attached breast fat, which he may
either take home or distribute over again to the company. After the
feast is over the chief must go around and consume what grease is left.
This is to demonstrate his capacity as a man and hearty eater. After
all is over, the lower jaw bone is tied to the skull in its proper
position and black stripes are painted on the skull. This is then put
on the stub end of a branch of a tree facing from some prominent point
toward the river or lake, near the water’s edge. Here it can be seen by
passers by as a reminder of the place and occasion of the bear feast.
The Indians themselves can give little comment on the meaning or reason
of this ceremony, except that it is done from respect to the bear and
satisfaction in securing a bountiful supply of meat. It belongs to the
variously expressed series of bear rites widespread among the northern
tribes.
(16) Legend of Iroquois Falls.
Once long ago a war party of Iroquois came north into this country to
fight the Indians at Abitibi. On the way they captured an old woman and
took her with them to guide them. When they were on Abitibi river they
drew near the big falls there without knowing it. The old woman was
made to stay in the first canoe. When she knew they were nearing the
falls she slowed up so that the flotilla of canoes became bunched. The
approach to the falls is very much concealed. All of a sudden they
found themselves upon the brink of the falls, and before they could
help themselves they all went over. The old woman was lost with the
rest in saving her people from being massacred by the Iroquois. [9]
CHAPTER II.
MYTHS AND FOLK-LORE OF THE TIMAGAMI OJIBWA.
Introduction.
In the following pages are presented the myths and items of folk-lore
related by various informants through Aleck Paul, the second chief of
the Timagami band of Ojibwa. I present them without any comparisons
with other mythologies at this time, as we may expect before long to
have more northern Algonkian mythology available for study and
analysis.
(1) Nenebuc, the Transformer.
(a) The Magic Birth of Nenebuc and his Four Brothers. [10]
There were two people living, a man and his wife, who had an only
daughter. When she was twelve years old, the age of puberty, she was
taken over a hill and was kept there in a camp alone for twelve days,
neither eating nor drinking, in order that she might have a dream. [11]
If she should eat or drink, she would have no dream. If, while she was
dreaming, a panther came alone, she would be very strong. So her
parents kept her there. The girl dreamed of the sun, so she could not
look at the sun any more, for if she did so, she would have to go away
from her parents and live with the sun. When the girl had had this
dream, she went back to her parents and her father asked her, “What
have you been dreaming?” “I am very sorry, but I have dreamed of the
sun, so I cannot ever look at the sun again,” replied his daughter.
“Well, now it is too bad, but you mustn’t look at the sun,” said her
father. “You stay here all the time. Don’t look at the sun, that’s
all.”
The girl used to get water at the shore and stay there a long time. One
day in March, she went to the water hole, broke the ice and looked into
the water. In so doing, she made a mistake, for there was no cloud in
the sky and the sun was shining brightly near the horizon, so that,
early in the morning, she looked at the sun. [12] She brought the water
back in a birch bark pail and placed it inside the wigwam, but she
could not sit down. “What is the matter?” said her father. “Why, I
looked at the sun,” answered his daughter. “Well, good-bye, you’ve got
to live with the sun now,” said her father. Then the girl and her
parents shook hands and she went away to live with the sun, and is
there yet. Before she went away she said to her father, “You will see
your grandchildren before long.” Then she told him to put his wooden
dish upside down before the fire and to leave it there four days and
four nights and to look under it every morning. Then she went to live
with the sun.
So the old man put the dish upside down before the fire. The first
morning he lifted the edge of the dish, looked under, and there he saw
Nenebuc, the child of the sun, sitting. The next morning he did the
same thing and he saw Nenebuc’s brother sitting with him. He kept doing
this the third, fourth, and fifth mornings, until there were Nenebuc
and his four brothers all sitting under the dish. Then the old man
picked up the dish. One of the brothers, the second brother, had horns
on his head and the old man said to him, “You won’t stay here. You go
to the west.” Then he sent one brother to the east, one to the south,
and one to the north. So Nenebuc, the eldest of the five, was left. The
old man told him to attend to the world and to keep the winds going
just right lest the water get stagnant and bad. Then Nenebuc stayed,
and his four brothers started to the four parts of the earth.
One day Nenebuc asked his grandfather, “Where have I been born? Had I a
mother like other people?” His grandfather would not tell him, but his
grandmother told him that he had been found. This appeared queer to
Nenebuc and he thought to himself, “The other people have mothers, but
I have none. I must find out.” So he took a whetstone and, scraping it
on a rock, he asked it, “Have I any mother?” “Yes, you have a mother,”
replied the whetstone and then it told him his story. Then Nenebuc told
his grandfather, “I have a mother and four brothers besides. The
whetstone told me so.”
Soon Nenebuc began growing larger and he thought it strange that he had
not been sent out into the world like his brothers, so he asked his
grandfather for what reason he had kept him. His grandfather told him
that he had kept him at home so that when he became old and feeble
Nenebuc would be able to help him, cut wood for him, and hunt for him.
This satisfied Nenebuc and he used to help his grandfather in many
ways, spearing fish for him in calm days, hunting for him, and doing
many other things. He never got into any mischief and he grew very
fast.
(b) Nenebuc Tempers the Wind.
One summer Nenebuc was unable to get fish for the whole summer on
account of the high winds. The people almost starved, and then Nenebuc
became very angry. He did not like to see his grandfather starving and
his anger was aroused against the West Wind for blowing so much. So he
told his grandfather that he was going to kill the West Wind for this,
but the old man said to him, “Don’t kill him. Make him let the wind
blow a while and then stop, so that everything will be all right, but
don’t kill him.” “Well, I won’t be long away and I’ll punish my
brother”, replied Nenebuc.
So he went away and finally met his brother, the one with the two
horns, who lived in the west. Nenebuc hammered him soundly with a club
and broke one of his horns. This hurt him, but did not kill him. Then
Nenebuc said, “Don’t blow so hard any more. You don’t care for your
grandfather, but I do and I fear he and the people will starve.” Then
he arranged things with his brother and went back. After this he went
fishing and found it calm with only a little puff of wind now and then.
Then the West Wind told his three brothers not to blow, for if they did
Nenebuc would come and kill them. The winds became frightened at this
and did not blow at all, and because of this the water grew thick and
stagnant and Nenebuc was unable to fish. Then his grandfather said, “We
are going to die. There is no wind and the water is bad. Did you kill
the West Wind?” “No,” said Nenebuc. “I will go and see him and tell him
to send the wind once in a while, not too often but just right.” So
Nenebuc went to his brother, the West Wind, and said to him, “I came
here to tell you that I want a little wind once in a while, but not too
much.” Then everything was arranged satisfactorily. Shortly after this
Nenebuc’s grandparents died and were heard of no more. [13]
(c) Nenebuc Starts Travelling, Anum Suum Castigat for Deceiving Him,
Changes the Colour of the Partridge Family, and Originates Rock Tripe
from his Scabs for the Benefit of the People.
Now Nenebuc grew up and was alone. He was a man and began to travel. He
knew all kinds of things concerning the trees, the world, and
everything which his grandfather had taught him. He set out on his
first journey and went toward the mountains. In one day’s walk he
climbed over three great mountains, something that no man could do.
When he reached the top of the first mountain he found a goose and
killed it. In like manner he killed a goose on the tops of the second
and third mountains. Then he went down to the lake below. He was very,
very tired from his first day’s journey. He made a fire with his
bow-drill [14] and put his geese in the sand, which he had heated to
bake them in. He buried them with their legs sticking out. He lay down
by the fire and ano suo dixit to watch the geese while he slept, so
that no one would steal them. Just as he was dozing off to sleep, anus
ejus dixit, “Somebody’s coming for your geese!” and Nenebuc jumped up.
Sed anus ejus eum deci piebat. It did this three or four times. At last
Nenebuc grew angry. He took a club and anum suum percussit and told it
not to do that again. Then he went to sleep. Some people came along and
stole the geese, but left the legs sticking in the same place.
When Nenebuc awoke, anum suum interrogavit, “Did any one come?” “I
don’t know,” anus ejus respondit. “As soon as you fell asleep, I slept.
I don’t know.” Nenebuc then pulled up the legs of the geese and found
nothing else. “It’s well cooked,” said he. He made a big fire. “Now
I’ll punish you,” ano suo dixit and he held it over the fire.
“Tcį·′įį!” clamavit anus ejus. “You can cry all you want to. I’ll
punish you,” said Nenebuc, ano suo strepitum urendi faciente. He didn’t
feel the burns then. Then he started walking.
Next day he felt a little sick and anus ejus scabi osus fuit. In
walking he got turned around and saw his own tracks. “Somebody’s passed
here,” he said to himself, when he saw them. Then he saw some kind of
meat lying on the ground, and he tasted it. “Somebody had some meat
here,” he said. Then the little bird Gitci·′gi·‵tci·gane‵cįc [15]
(Tom-tit) cried out, “Nenebuc scabies suas edit!” “Oh no, those are not
my scabs. Some old woman passed by and left some dry meat,” said he.
But at last he discovered se scabies suas edisse, but even then he
didn’t care. He kept on walking and felt very sick.
By and by he came upon a brood of young partridges and said, “Where is
your mother?” “Our mother is away,” said they. “What’s your names?”
They answered “Kαckuŋge′s·i” (“Jump out and frighten”). Nenebuc turned
around upon hearing this and super totam familiam defaecavit. Up to
this time the Partridges had been white, but after this they have
always been brown.
Then Nenebuc went to a high bluff near by. He was tired, sick, and
hungry, and he lay upon the bluff sleeping. Partridge came home and
said to his young when he saw what Nenebuc had done to them, “Who did
this?” “A man came along and asked us our name and, when we told him
‘Kαckuŋge′s·i,’ super nos defaecavit. He said he wasn’t frightened by
us.” And so the young Partridges told their father where Nenebuc had
gone. The old Partridge followed his tracks until he came to where
Nenebuc lay on the cliff. He saw him lying right on the edge, so he
walked up slowly to him and then suddenly buzzed his wings, and Nenebuc
jumped up and fell over the cliff. As he slid down, anum suum in
lapidibus scabit and all the scabs rubbed off. As he lay on the ground
he saw the scabs and said, “These Indians will call this wa·′kwαní [16]
and when they go hungry they can make soup for themselves, these
Ojibwa, forever.” Then he was cured.
(d) Nenebuc Prepares a Feast and Gets Caught Between Two Trees, While
the Animals Receive a Distribution of Fat.
After this Nenebuc began travelling again. One time he feasted a lot of
animals. He had killed a big bear, which was very fat and he began
cooking it, having made a fire with his bow-drill. When he was ready to
spread his meat, he heard two trees scraping together, swayed by the
wind. He didn’t like this noise while he was having his feast and he
thought he could stop it. He climbed up one of the trees and when he
reached the spot where the two trees were scraping, his foot got caught
in a crack between the trees and he could not free himself.
When the first animal guest came along and saw Nenebuc in the tree, he,
the Beaver, said “Come on to the feast, Nenebuc is caught and can’t
stop us.” And then the other animals came. The Beaver jumped into the
grease and ate it, and the Otter did the same, and that is why they are
so fat in the belly. The Beaver scooped up the grease and smeared it on
himself, and that is the reason why he is so fat now. All the small
animals came and got fat for themselves. Last of all the animals came
the Rabbit, when nearly all the grease was gone—only a little left. So
he put some on the nape of his neck and some on his groin and for this
reason he has only a little fat in those places. So all the animals got
their fat except Rabbit. Then they all went, and poor Nenebuc got free
at last. He looked around and found a bear’s skull that was all cleaned
except for the brain, and there was only a little of that left, but he
couldn’t get at it. Then he wished himself to be changed into an ant in
order to get into the skull and get enough to eat, for there was only
about an ant’s meal left.
(e) Nenebuc Gets Caught in the Bear’s Skull.
Then he became an ant and entered the skull. When he had enough he
turned back into a man, but he had his head inside the skull; this
allowed him to walk but not to see. On account of this he had no idea
where he was. Then he felt the trees. He said to one, “What are you?”
It answered, “Cedar.” He kept doing this with all the trees in order to
keep his course. When he got too near the shore, he knew it by the kind
of trees he met. So he kept on walking and the only tree that did not
answer promptly was the black spruce, and that said, “I’m
Se·′se·ga‵ndαk” (black spruce). Then Nenebuc knew he was on low ground.
He came to a lake, but he did not know how large it was, as he couldn’t
see. He started to swim across. An Ojibwa was paddling on the lake with
his family and he heard someone calling, “Hey! There’s a bear swimming
across the lake.” Nenebuc became frightened at this and the Ojibwa then
said, “He’s getting near the shore now.” So Nenebuc swam faster, and as
he could understand the Ojibwa language, he guided himself by the
cries. He landed on a smooth rock, slipped and broke the bear’s skull,
which fell off his head. Then the Ojibwa cried out, “That’s no bear!
That’s Nenebuc!” Nenebuc was all right, now that he could see, so he
ran off, as he didn’t want to stay with these people.
(f) Nenebuc Wounds the Giant Lynx, Disguises Himself in a Toad’s Skin,
and Finally Slays Her.
He had his bow and arrow with him, and as he went along he saw a great
snake. [17] He shot it with his arrow. He came to a big lake with a
nice, sandy shore, where he saw Lions [18] (mici·′bizi‵w “giant
lynx”). He couldn’t shoot them with his arrow as they were too far
away, nor was there any place where he could hide himself until they
came to sun themselves by the shore, when they felt too cold in the
water. Finally he hit upon a plan. He took some birch bark from a
rotten stump, rolled it into a hollow cylinder, and placed it, like a
wigwam, near the shore. He got inside and made a little hole in the
bark through which to shoot and kill the Lions.
When the Lions saw the thing on the beach, they grew curious to find
out what this strange thing was on the beach that was not there the day
before. So they sent a big snake to twist around it and to try to upset
it, but the snake did not succeed in doing this, for Nenebuc stood too
firm. So the Lions came ashore upon the sand and Nenebuc shot one of
them with his arrow—a she-lion, the wife of the Lion chief. He did not
kill her, but wounded her badly in the side, and the flint arrow point
stayed in the wound. She was very badly wounded and went back to a hole
which led to a cave in a big rock where she lived. [19] Nenebuc was
sorry that he had not killed the Lion queen.
As he went along the shore, the next morning, he heard someone singing
and shaking a rattle. Nenebuc stood there wondering and waiting, and
pretty soon he saw an old woman making the song. So he went across to
see her, and when they met, he asked her, “What are you doing?” “I’m a
doctor,” she answered. “The queen of the Lions has been shot by Nenebuc
and I am going to cure her.” She didn’t know that it was Nenebuc to
whom she was talking, for she was too old. So Nenebuc told her, “Let me
hear you singing. Is that what you are going to do to cure her?” “Yes,
I will sing and then pull out that arrow.” The Lions had sent for her
at the foot of the lake to cure the queen. Nenebuc picked up a club and
killed her, saying, “You are no doctor (macki·ki·′winini‵k·we
‘medicine-person woman’) at all.” Then he discovered that she was no
person at all, but a big toad (omα′kαk·i·‵). So he skinned her and put
on the skin. The skin had a hole in the groin, and as he had no needle
to sew it up with, his scrotum hung out when he put it on himself. This
did not worry Nenebuc, for he thought, “It will be all right, unless
they notice me too closely.” So he walked past the cave in which the
Lions lived and kept singing and rattling all the time.
When the young lions heard him, they said, “There’s the old medicine
woman coming.” They were very glad to think that their mother would be
cured. So they opened the door in the rock and Nenebuc went in, and one
of the daughters came to meet him and said, “Come in, old woman.” They
were very much pleased. Nenebuc said, “Don’t shut the doors. Leave them
open, as the queen needs plenty of fresh air!” [20] Then he said, “I’m
hungry. I’ve had a long walk and I’m tired.” Then they gave him a good
meal first. While he was eating, he sat with open legs and the children
cried out, “Look at the old woman with testicles hanging out!” But the
older ones told them to be silent, as they thought some old women had
testicles.
When he had finished eating, Nenebuc said, “Don’t watch me. I’m going
to pull out the arrow point. You will hear her suffering and me
singing, but don’t look until you hear her stop suffering. Then she
will be cured, and the arrow point will be out. So don’t look, for I am
going to cure her.” Then he began rattling and singing, and, as he did
so, he shoved the arrow point farther into the wound of the queen in
order to kill her. When she yelled, her people thought that the hurt
was caused in pulling it out. At last one of the little lion children
peeped and saw Nenebuc pushing the arrow farther in. He told his
sister, “That’s Nenebuc himself inside!” Then Nenebuc ran outside and
the Queen Lion was dying. Nenebuc had difficulty to clear himself. He
pulled off the toad skin and tried to climb up the rock.
(g) The Giant Lynx Causes the World Flood and Gathers the Animals on a
Raft; Muskrat Dives for Earth, which Nenebuc Transforms into a New
World.
As soon as the queen died, a giant stream poured out of the cave and
the lake began rising. “That is going to flood the world and be the
end,” said Nenebuc. So he cut trees and made a kind of raft. [21] So he
had his raft ready, and the end of the world came. He couldn’t see any
trees, water covered everything, and he made the flood. He saw all
kinds of animals swimming toward his raft and he took them on. “Come
on, come on,” he cried, “and stay here.” For he wanted to save them, so
that after the flood there would be all kinds of animals. The animals
stayed on the raft with him for a long while. Some time after this he
made a rope of roots and tied it to the Beaver’s tail, telling him to
dive and to try and reach the land underneath. He knew the water would
get lower afterwards. The Beaver couldn’t reach the land and he came up
to the surface of the water again.
Seven days after this he allowed the Muskrat to try and bring the land.
Muskrat dove and they waited for a long time, but he didn’t come up.
This Muskrat doubled up and put his nose into the hair of his breast
which enabled him to breathe by the bubbles clinging there. By doing
this he could rest and dive still deeper. At last he used up all the
air in his breast hair and could only grab a little piece of mud. Then
he started up to the surface of the water, but drowned before he
reached the raft. Nenebuc pulled the Muskrat in and he still was
holding the mud. Nenebuc said, “I am going to dry this. As soon as it
is dry, you can all run around again and have this world.” So he dried
it, but not entirely, and that is the reason why some parts of the
world are swampy and wet, while others are dry like this. So the
animals had the earth again and the world was made.
(h) Nenebuc Sends Crow Out, for Disobedience Changes Him Black and Gull
Partly Black, then Retires to the West, until He Will Return Again.
Nenebuc knew the world was round like a ball, but he didn’t know how
large it was. He was sitting down, tired. So he said to Crow, “Go fly
around the world and don’t eat until you come back again. If you do, we
will know it.” Crow at that time was white. Crow had to do as he was
told, because Nenebuc was chief of all men and animals. So Crow started
and flew and flew along the salt water beach. Soon he became very
hungry and wondered how far he was away from Nenebuc. One morning he
was flying along the shore and he saw an old dead fish. He was so
hungry that he tasted a little bit of it, and finally made a meal of
it. When he finished eating, he found he had turned black. This is the
way Crow became black.
When Crow reached the place from which he started out, he found Nenebuc
and all the animals waiting for him. He told Nenebuc that he had eaten,
and then Nenebuc said to Gull, “You go try. Do the same and don’t eat
until you come here.” So Gull went. When he got to the same place at
which Crow had felt hungry, Gull felt hungry. One morning he saw the
same dead fish. He thought, “Well, I mustn’t eat it, for if I do, I’ll
be as black as Crow.” He took one mouthful and started flying. When
Gull returned, Nenebuc could see a little black on his wings, so he
said, “Gull has had a mouthful too.”
Then he told Owl, “You go and try to go around the world this time. If
you eat, you won’t change colour but remain the same colour as you are
now. But if you eat, you won’t come back here.” So Owl started flying.
He came to the same lake, saw the dead fish and finished it. He ate a
good meal and never returned. [22] But he didn’t change colour.
Then Nenebuc let all the animals go from the raft. He started west and
is there yet, lying on his back, singing and hammering at his wigwam
poles, in place of drumming, all the time. He will stay there until he
gets up again three years before the end of the world, when he will
travel all over the world to see the animals and the Ojibwa again. He
will not die until the end of the world.
(2) Nenebuc Fragment. [23]
Once the Goose met Nenebuc and gave him two wings. He told him that if
he flapped them he could fly with them, but that he must not look
downwards while he flew. So Nenebuc took the wings and began flying.
When he got very far up, he wondered how high he was and looked down.
Then he tumbled down and down until he fell into a big hollow stump
where he couldn’t get out. Soon two girls came along with an axe to get
some wood and began cutting at the hollow pine in which Nenebuc was.
They cut a hole and Nenebuc kept quiet, for he was hoping they would
free him. When they looked in the hole, they saw his belly and they
pulled out a hair. They went back to camp and told their father, “Here
is a porcupine quill we found in a tree.” The old man looked at it and,
laughing, said, “That’s not a porcupine quill, that’s a hair from
Nenebuc’s groin!”
(3) Nenebuc Transforms the Bear. [24]
Nenebuc in his tracks encountered the great Bear that killed and ate
the Indians—so many of them that they feared they would all be killed.
So Nenebuc went to the Bear and said, “You are eating so many of the
Indians that they will all be gone soon. Now I am going to make you
small and harmless.” Then he made him into the Squirrel and turned the
Squirrel into the Bear, and the Bear, now in Squirrel’s shape, felt so
badly that he cried until his eyebrows turned grey. That is the reason
why to this day squirrels have grey eyelids.
“Now,” said Nenebuc, “what will you eat?” The Bear, now a Squirrel,
said he would continue to eat people, but he was so small that he could
not do anything. “That is good,” said Nenebuc. “Now you can’t do any
harm to the Indians. But you had better change your food. Just run up
that black-spruce tree and taste the acorn seeds and then see whether
you want to eat people any more. You are too small to eat people as you
used to do.” So the Squirrel ran up the black-spruce tree and tasted
the sweet seed of the cone. He liked it so well, it tasted so sweet,
that he chose this for his food and said that he would not want
anything better any more. That is his food to-day.
(4) Wemicus.
Wemicus had a very large family. Many of his children had married the
different animals who lived in various parts of the surrounding
country. By and by he had nearly all kinds of animals for his
sons-in-law, and there were still a great many children left in his
family. When winter came, Wemicus was unable to support his family, as
there were too many of them. They were all living in one wigwam.
One day Wemicus said to his wife, “We are all very hungry. I might go
and see one of our sons-in-law; he might have some food.” Next morning
he started out. Wemicus always tried to imitate the actions of
everybody he saw. When he reached the home of his son-in-law Ninicip
(Black Duck) he saw that he also had a large family. Ninicip was inside
of his wigwam, and when he saw Wemicus coming, he told his wife, “You
had better begin to get ready for company and boil water in the stone
pail.” Then he jumped up upon the cross poles in his wigwam [25] and in
vas lapidum sub se [26] defaecavit, telling his wife to stir up the
contents of the pot. Wemicus apparently saw nothing of this. Then one
of the children of Ninicip took spoons and, dipping them in the pot,
said, “Soup, soup, soup, rice soup.” Wemicus tasted the soup, thought
it tasted good, and decided that after this he would make soup in the
same manner.
The next morning, when Wemicus started for home, he was given some rice
soup to take home to his children. Before leaving the wigwam of
Ninicip, however, Wemicus had purposely left behind one of his mittens.
One of the children saw the mitten and Ninicip’s wife sent the child to
return it, bidding him not to go too close to Wemicus but to throw him
the mitten. The child did the bidding of his mother and, when the
mitten was thrown to Wemicus, he said, “Ask your father to come and see
me,” and he named a certain day. On the way back home Wemicus thought,
“I wonder what this soup tastes like when it is cold. I must try it. My
children don’t need any of it, so I might as well eat it all.” So he
ate all of the soup. When he reached his wigwam he said, “Ninicip and
his family are starving also. To-morrow he will come to see us and
perhaps he will bring us something. We had better fix up our wigwam.”
Then they fixed up the wigwam in the same manner as that of Ninicip.
The next day Ninicip came and they gave him the best place. Wemicus
said to his wife, “We’ll get ready to eat now. Put some water in the
stone pail.” “There is no use putting any water in the pail,” answered
his wife, “we have nothing to cook.” “Well, bring the pail, anyway, and
get some spoons,” said Wemicus. When the water began boiling, Wemicus
jumped up on the cross-poles, in vas defaecavit, all over his children
and the inside of the wigwam. Then Ninicip went out. His wife scolded
Wemicus, saying, “You always do something like that. You must have seen
someone do that.” Then Wemicus kept quiet and everything had to be
cleaned up. The wife then invited Ninicip to come in again and he told
her that he would fix up the meal. Igituo interum in vas defaecavit and
they had good rice soup, and everyone, even Wemicus, had a good meal.
The following morning Ninicip made soup for the family again and then
went home. Soon Wemicus and his family were starving again and Wemicus
said, “I must go and see my son-in-law, Muskrat. He lives not far
away.” “All right,” said his wife and Wemicus set out. When he had
almost reached Muskrat’s home, the little Muskrat children called out,
“Our grandfather is coming.” Wemicus told Muskrat that he was starving
and Muskrat said to his wife, “You had better make a fire in the hot
sand.” So the fire was made, and Muskrat went out with a big sack made
out of hide and returned with the sack full of ice, which he dumped
into the hot ashes. Wemicus expected that it would explode but it only
cooked nicely. Wemicus wondered what it was. Soon Muskrat said, “We are
ready now,” and they took off the sand and there were a lot of nicely
baked potatoes. Wemicus thought that was an easy way in which to
live—just to get ice for potatoes.
Next morning Wemicus started out for home and left his mitten behind as
he had done with Ninicip. Muskrat’s wife sent a child after him and
told the child, “Don’t go too close to Wemicus. He’s always in
mischief.” Everything happened as before. The child threw the mitten to
Wemicus and Wemicus sent an invitation to Muskrat to come to his home
the next day. As Wemicus went on his way he had some potatoes which
Muskrat had given him for his family. Half way home he rested and
thought he would eat the potatoes, as they looked very good. So he ate
every one. “I am the one who works hard,” he said to himself. “My
family can wait until Muskrat comes.” When he reached home he told his
wife, “Muskrat is also starving. I brought nothing. Muskrat is coming
tomorrow to see us.” Next day Muskrat came and they put him on the
opposite side of the wigwam. Wemicus said, “We have nothing much, but,
wife, make a fire in the hot sand.” The wife answered, “I suppose you
saw somebody else do something. Don’t you try any more mischief.” But
he made his wife make the fire. He then went out and returned with the
sack full of ice, which he dumped on the fire. The sack blew up all
over everybody and put out the fire. Then his wife said, “I suppose you
saw someone do that again.” She made another fire and Muskrat said,
“Give me that bag.” He went out and brought back the sack full of ice,
dumped and buried it in the fire, and, after a while, they got the
potatoes. All of them had a good meal. The next morning, before Muskrat
left, he got them another bag of potatoes.
Wemicus does not work, although his family is so large. Well, pretty
soon the whole family was starving again. Then said Wemicus, “I must go
and see Meme (pileated woodpecker), my son-in-law.” He went into the
bush and when he reached Meme’s wigwam he found a large white pine in
back of it. He noticed that Meme had a sharp pointed nose. He saw that
Meme had not much to live on, but nevertheless Meme told his wife to
get the cooking pail ready. Then Meme began climbing the pine tree,
which was at the back of his wigwam, and began pecking in the trunk
with his nose. Pretty soon he came down with a raccoon. [27] When
Wemicus saw this, he thought, “That is a great thing; I must try it.”
Meme burned off the hair and cleaned the raccoon, and shared the meat
on a stick to each one. Wemicus received the best part, as he was the
grandfather.
The next morning they had another raccoon to eat. Then everything
happened as before. Wemicus was given a raccoon to take home. He left
his mitten behind, and sent an invitation to Meme to visit him the next
day. On the way home Wemicus thought to himself, “I wonder how this
raccoon tastes cold.” So he ate the entire raccoon. When he got home,
he told his wife that Meme was starving but that he was coming to visit
them the following day. They put the wigwam in order and Wemicus fixed
up a big pine like that belonging to Meme and cut two pieces of wood,
which he pointed and shoved into his nose to imitate Meme. When Meme
came along he saw Wemicus sitting there with sticks in his nose.
Wemicus told his wife, as usual, to prepare for supper, and she told
him that they had nothing. When she had the water boiling in the pail,
Wemicus climbed up the tree and pecked upon it in imitation of Meme. He
fell down, however, and drove the sticks into his head. He fell into
the fire, but after a while he gained consciousness. Then Meme stepped
out of the wigwam, climbed the tree, and brought down a raccoon. And
then the whole family had a good supper. Next morning Meme got another
raccoon and left it for the family, and then went home.
Still Wemicus did nothing and the family was again in a starving
condition. Then said Wemicus, “I have some more sons-in-law and one is
close. I will go and see him; he will help me until open water. [28] I
will go and see Skunk.” So he set out to visit Skunk. Wemicus was
pretty hungry and Skunk was farther off than the rest of the
sons-in-law, but he finally reached his home. Wemicus found Skunk’s
water hole [29] and saw a great quantity of oil in it. He knew that
Skunk must have killed a great deal of game. So he went into Skunk’s
wigwam and saw a great quantity of food. Skunk said, “We don’t have
much. It is long since I hunted. But come outside.” There Wemicus saw a
piece of ground fenced in. Skunk then produced a little birch bark horn
[30] and said, “What will you have?” Skunk now blew on his horn and all
kinds of game came inside the enclosure. Skunk deinde pepedit and
killed whatever kind Wemicus wanted. They then skinned what he killed
and fried it for supper.
In the morning Skunk said to Wemicus, “I’ll give you three shots and a
horn. You can make a fence for yourself. This horn will last forever,
as long as you don’t lose it. If you do, it will be bad.” Then Skunk
gave Wemicus three shots to be used in the future, and he did this
urinando super eum to load him up three times. He did not give him any
food, because he would be able to get enough for himself. Then Wemicus
thought, “Now I am going to do something.” As Wemicus was on his way
home he said to himself, “I wonder if it will go off!” So, just as he
was passing a tree stump, pepedit at the stump and blew it up. “That’s
fine, but I have only two more shots left,” said he. Later he tried the
same thing and then only had one left. A little while after this he saw
a big pine tree, and thought he would try a shot at this. So he blew up
the pine tree, and so used up all his shots.
When he reached his wigwam, he showed his wife the horn which Skunk had
given him, saying, “Skunk gave me that.” Then he built a large fence of
poles. He told his wife to hold the horn and stay near by, while he got
a club to kill the game with. Then he blew on the horn and the fence
was filled with bear, deer, and all kinds of animals. Although he had
no shots left, Wemicus managed to kill one caribou, and his wife was
very happy. He cut the fat from the breast of the caribou, made a fire,
and got some grease from it. He then spilled the caribou grease in his
water hole in order to deceive Skunk and make him believe that he had a
great quantity of meat. Not long after this Skunk started out to visit
Wemicus and, on his way, he passed the three stumps which Wemicus had
blown up and knew that he had no more shots left. When he reached
Wemicus’ water hole he said, “I guess he got one any way.” When he came
to the wigwam, he found that Wemicus and his family had hardly any meat
left, so he said to Wemicus, “Come out and let me see your fence.” They
went out and Wemicus blew his horn, and inside the fence it became full
of game. Skunk pepedit and killed all of them, and then Wemicus and his
family had plenty. Skunk stayed over night and departed the next
morning.
Wemicus had another son-in-law who was a man. This man’s wife, the
daughter of Wemicus, had had a great many husbands, because Wemicus had
put them to so many different tests that they had been all killed off
except this one. He, however, had succeeded in outwitting Wemicus in
every scheme that he tried on him. Wemicus and this man hunted beaver
in the spring of the year by driving them all day with dogs. The man’s
wife warned him before they started out to hunt, saying, “Look out for
my father; he might burn your moccasins in camp. That’s what he did to
my other husbands.” [31] That night in camp Wemicus said, “I didn’t
tell you the name of this lake. It is called ‘burnt moccasins lake.’”
When the man heard this, he thought that Wemicus was up to some sort of
mischief and was going to burn his moccasins. Their moccasins were
hanging up before a fire to dry and, while Wemicus was not looking, the
man changed the places of Wemicus’ moccasins and his own, and then went
to sleep. Soon the man awoke and saw Wemicus get up and throw his own
moccasins into the fire. Wemicus then said, “Say! something is burning;
it is your moccasins.” Then the man answered, “No, not mine, but
yours.” So Wemicus had no moccasins, and the ground was covered with
snow. After this had happened the man slept with his moccasins on.
The next morning the man started on and left Wemicus there with no
shoes. Wemicus started to work. He got a big boulder, made a fire, and
placed the boulder in it until it became red hot. He then wrapped his
feet with spruce boughs and pushed the boulder ahead of him in order to
melt the snow. In this way he managed to walk on the boughs. Then he
began to sing, “Spruce is warm, spruce is warm.” When the man reached
home he told his wife what had happened. “I hope Wemicus will die,” she
said. A little while after this, they heard Wemicus coming along
singing, “Spruce is warm, spruce is warm.” He came into the wigwam and,
as he was the head man, they were obliged to get his meal ready.
The ice was getting bad by this time, so they stayed in camp a while.
Soon Wemicus told his son-in-law, “We’d better go sliding.” He then
went to a hill where there were some very poisonous snakes. The man’s
wife warned her husband of these snakes and gave him a split stick
holding a certain kind of magic tobacco, which she told him to hold in
front of him so that the snakes would not hurt him. Then the two men
went sliding. At the top of the hill Wemicus said, “Follow me,” for he
intended to pass close by the snakes’ lair. So when they slid, Wemicus
passed safely and the man held his stick with the tobacco in it in
front of him, thus preventing the snakes from biting him. The man then
told Wemicus that he enjoyed the sliding.
The following day Wemicus said to his son-in-law, “We had better go to
another place.” When she heard this, the wife told her husband that, as
it was getting summer, Wemicus had in his head many poisonous lizards
instead of lice. She said, “He will tell you to pick lice from his head
and crack them in your teeth. But take low-bush cranberries and crack
them instead.” So the man took cranberries along with him. Wemicus took
his son-in-law to a valley with a great ravine in it. He said, “I
wonder if anybody can jump across this?” “Surely,” said the young man,
“I can.” Then the young man said, “Closer,” and the ravine narrowed and
he jumped across easily. When Wemicus tried, the young man said
“Widen,” and Wemicus fell into the ravine. But it did not kill him, and
when he made his way to the top again, he said, “You have beaten me.”
Then they went on.
They came to a place of hot sand and Wemicus said, “You must look for
lice in my head.” “All right father,” replied the son-in-law. So
Wemicus lay down and the man started to pick the lice. He took the
cranberries from inside his shirt and each time he pretended to catch a
louse, he cracked a cranberry and threw it on the ground, and so
Wemicus got fooled a second time that day. Then they went home and
Wemicus said to his son-in-law, “There are a whole lot of eggs on that
rocky island where the gulls are. We will go get the eggs, come back,
and have an egg supper.” As Wemicus was the head man, his son-in-law
had to obey him.
So they started out in their canoe and soon came to the rocky island.
Wemicus stayed in the canoe and told the man to go ashore and to bring
the eggs back with him and fill the canoe. When the man reached the
shore, Wemicus told him to go farther back on the island, saying,
“That’s where the former husbands got their eggs, there are their
bones.” He then started the canoe off in the water by singing, without
using his paddle. Then Wemicus told the gulls to eat the man, saying to
them, “I give you him to eat.” The gulls started to fly about the man,
but the man had his paddle with him and he killed one of the gulls with
it. He then took the gulls’ wings and fastened them on himself, filled
his shirt with eggs, and started flying over the lake by the aid of the
wings.
When he reached the middle of the lake, he saw Wemicus going along and
singing to himself. Wemicus, looking up, saw his son-in-law but mistook
him for a gull. Then the man flew over him and defecated in his face,
and Wemicus said, “Gull’s excrement always smells like that when they
have eaten a man.” The man flew back to camp and told his wife to cook
the eggs, and he told his children to play with the wings. When Wemicus
reached the camp, he saw the children playing with the wings and said,
“Where did you get those wings?” “From father,” was the reply. “Your
father? Why, the gulls ate him!” Then he went to the wigwam and there
he saw the man smoking. Then Wemicus thought it very strange how the
man could have gotten home, but no one told him how it had been done.
Thought he, “I must try another scheme to do away with him.”
One day Wemicus said to his son-in-law, “We’d better make two canoes of
birch-bark, one for you and one for me. We’d better get bark.” So they
started off for birch-bark. They cut a tree almost through and Wemicus
said to his son-in-law, “You sit on that side and I’ll sit on this.” He
wanted the tree to fall on him and kill him. Wemicus said, “You say,
‘Fall on my father-in-law,’ and I’ll say, ‘Fall on my son-in-law’, and
whoever says it too slowly or makes a mistake will be the one on whom
it will fall.” But Wemicus made the first mistake, and the tree fell on
him and crushed him. However, Wemicus was a manitu [32] and was not
hurt. They went home with the bark and made the two canoes. After they
were made, Wemicus said to his son-in-law, “Well, we’ll have a race in
our two canoes, a sailing race.” Wemicus made a big bark sail, but the
man did not make any, as he was afraid of upsetting. They started the
race. Wemicus went very fast and the man called after him, “Oh, you are
beating me.” He kept on fooling and encouraging Wemicus, until the wind
upset Wemicus’ canoe and that was the end of Wemicus. When the man
sailed over the spot where Wemicus had upset, he saw a big pike
(ki·nų′je) there, into which Wemicus had been transformed when the
canoe upset. This is the origin of the pike.
(5) Ciŋgibis.
At the time of which my story speaks people were camping just as we are
here. In the winter time they used birch bark wigwams. All animals
could then talk together. Two girls, who were very foolish, talked
foolishly and were in no respect like the other girls of their tribe,
made their bed out-of-doors, and slept right out under the stars. The
very fact that they slept outside during the winter proves how foolish
they were.
One of these girls asked the other, “With what star would you like to
sleep, the white one or the red one?” The other girl answered, “I’d
like to sleep with the red star.” “Oh, that’s all right,” said the
first one, “I would like to sleep with the white star. He’s the
younger; the red is the older.” Then the two girls fell asleep. When
they awoke, they found themselves in another world, the star world.
There were four of them there, the two girls and the two stars who had
become men. The white star was very, very old and was grey-headed,
while the younger was red-headed. He was the red star. The girls stayed
a long time in this star world, and the one who had chosen the white
star was very sorry, for he was so old.
There was an old woman up in this world who sat over a hole in the sky,
and, whenever she moved, she showed them the hole and said, “That’s
where you came from.” They looked down through and saw their people
playing down below, and then the girls grew very sorry and very
homesick. One evening, near sunset, the old woman moved a little way
from the hole. [33]
The younger girl heard the noise of the mite′win down below. When it
was almost daylight, the old woman sat over the hole again and the
noise of mite′win stopped; it was her spirit that made the noise. She
was the guardian of the mite′win.
One morning the old woman told the girls, “If you want to go down from
where you came from, we will let you down, but get to work and gather
roots to make a string-made rope, twisted. The two of you make coils of
rope as high as your heads when you are sitting. Two coils will be
enough.” The girls worked for days until they had accomplished this.
They made plenty of rope and tied it to a big basket. They then got
into the basket and the people of the star world lowered them down.
They descended right into an Eagle’s nest, but the people above thought
the girls were on the ground and stopped lowering them. They were
obliged to stay in the nest, because they could do nothing to help
themselves.
Said one, “We’ll have to stay here until some one comes to get us.”
Bear passed by. The girls cried out, “Bear, come and get us. You are
going to get married sometime. Now is your chance!” Bear thought, “They
are not very good-looking women.” He pretended to climb up and then
said, “I can’t climb up any further.” And he went away, for the girls
didn’t suit him. Next came Lynx. The girls cried out again, “Lynx, come
up and get us. You will go after women some day!” Lynx answered, “I
can’t, for I have no claws,” and he went away. Then an ugly-looking
man, Wolverine, passed and the girls spoke to him. “Hey, Wolverine,
come and get us.” Wolverine started to climb up, for he thought it a
very fortunate thing to have these women and was very glad. When he
reached them, they placed their hair ribbons in the nest. Then
Wolverine agreed to take one girl at a time, so he took the first one
down and went back for the next. Then Wolverine went away with his two
wives and enjoyed himself greatly, as he was ugly and nobody else would
have him. They went far into the woods, and then they sat down and
began to talk. “Oh!” cried one of the girls, “I forgot my hair
ribbons.” Then Wolverine said, “I will run back for it.” And he started
off to get the hair ribbons. Then the girls hid and told the trees,
whenever Wolverine should come back and whistle for them, to answer him
by whistling. Wolverine soon returned and began to whistle for his
wives, and the trees all around him whistled in answer. Wolverine,
realizing that he had been tricked, gave up the search and departed
very angry.
The girls continued through the woods until they came to a big marsh,
late in the afternoon. There they saw a big birch bark house.
Everything around the house was very clean, the poles were scraped
clean of their bark and were perfectly white, while there was neither
smoke nor ashes to be seen anywhere. The girls looked at this and said,
“The person who lives here must be very clean; we have never seen such
a clean house.” There was no dry or green wood lying around, but inside
the house they saw a fire-place and plenty of hay. One girl said to the
other, “We’d better cut a little wood.” So they cut wood and made the
fire in case the man came home late. By this time, the ice was
beginning to break. Late in the evening they heard someone crying out,
“Who spoiled my wigwam? Who made smoke and ashes?” The owner of the
wigwam didn’t know who had done this, so he came in and looked at the
two girls. He then cut all the wood. This man was Woodpecker (Meme
“pileated woodpecker”). Woodpecker made a fire of the hay, which was
beaver hay. It gave no smoke to stain the wigwam and burned as well as
wood. He brought in two nice beavers which belonged to him, and gave
one to the girls, saying, “You can have this.” He then cooked the other
one for himself. He showed the girls where to sleep and since the place
where they were to sleep was not near him, they knew that he would not
marry either of them.
Next morning, after breakfast, he said to them, “Go! Don’t stay here.
You go that way and you will find a big river. There you’ll find lots
of people and maybe you’ll get married.” So the girls went on. They
left Woodpecker and he is there yet. They came to the big river and
beheld canoes and all kinds of people passing. First they saw White
Duck (wa′bəci·p). He was a good looking man, and as he passed them in
his canoe, the girls said to him, “Put us in your canoe, you are going
to get married sometime.” White Duck answered, “My canoe is too small.
Other people are coming; they will marry you.” And he passed on. Next
came Fish Duck (azi′k), a good looking man. They cried out, “Put us in
your canoe, you are going to get married anyway.” “No, my canoe is too
small,” replied Fish Duck. A great many people passed, but all of them
said that their canoes were too small, so the girls had to stay where
they were. The people were passing to the mouth of the creek where the
village of the chief was. At last came Black Duck (ni′nicip). He was
also nice looking. “Come over and get us; you will get married
sometime,” cried the girls. “No, My canoe is too small. Ciŋgibis is
coming soon and he will marry you.” He was going to be the last person
to pass. At last Ciŋgibis came along.
When they saw him, one of the girls said, “He is a very ugly man, but
we will go in his canoe and, when we get to the village, we’ll get rid
of him.” So they called out to him, “Come over and get us; you will get
married anyway.” Ciŋgibis was very glad to have two wives, so he
paddled over and got the two girls. They said, “Your canoe is a very
small canoe.” “Oh no,” said Ciŋgibis, “my canoe is a magic canoe. It is
enough.” So the girls got into the canoe and they went down the stream.
By and by one girl said, “I’m getting hungry.” “Well,” said Ciŋgibis,
“not far down is a nice rock and there we will have lunch. You can pull
roots for lunch.” So Ciŋgibis and the two girls went ashore and pulled
roots and made a string out of them. “That’s enough,” said Ciŋgibis to
one of the girls. “Tie the string to my leg and I’ll dive for something
to eat. When you see the string jerk, pull me up.” They did this, and
he dove into the water. When the girls saw the string jerk, they pulled
him up and he brought with him a big beaver. They skinned and cooked
the beaver for lunch; then Ciŋgibis and his two wives continued their
journey. Soon Ciŋgibis said, “Well, we are not far from the village
now. I am going to place my caribou snare.” He meant rabbit when he
said caribou. So he placed his snares. He then told the girls, “At the
village your sister-in-law will come down to see you. Maŋg (Loon) is
the name of the chief of the village. But we won’t camp near them;
we’ll camp a little to one side.” They went down the river until they
came to the mouth, and at that point they saw the wigwams.
All the people yelled when they saw Ciŋgibis, for he was a great man,
although he was the ugliest one among them. They cried, “Ee Ciŋgibis!
He has two wives.” So they all laughed and the sister of Ciŋgibis came
to shake hands with his two wives. Then Ciŋgibis pitched his wigwam.
Soon a man who was a second chief came to Ciŋgibis and said, “Chief
Maŋg wants to see you. He is going to have a dance tonight.” Ciŋgibis
said to his wives, “Stay here and don’t go to the dance. There are too
many nice-looking men there.” On account of this the two wives became
angry with him. Ciŋgibis put on his best clothes and went to the dance.
By and by the wives heard drumming and fine voices singing. So they
decided to go and peep in at the dancers if Ciŋgibis should not see
them. They did this and peeped in through the bark, and there they saw
Loon singing. He was a fine-looking man with a fine voice and fine
clothes. Ciŋgibis was beside Loon, looking exceedingly ugly in contrast
to him. The wives said, “It is a shame that Loon is so good-looking.”
They then went back to camp and put two stumps in the place where they
were to sleep, covered them with blankets and ran off.
Ciŋgibis came back from the dance and, thinking that he was sleeping
with his two wives, he lay down between the two stumps and fell asleep.
But his two wives went to sleep with Chief Loon. By and by ants began
to bite Ciŋgibis and he scolded his wives, saying, “Don’t do that.” At
last he discovered the stumps and threw them out. At daybreak he went
to the chief’s wigwam and there, sleeping with the Chief, he saw his
two wives. “You are a dead man for this!” said Ciŋgibis.
He then went to his grandmother. “What do you want?” asked she. “I want
a chisel and a flint.” “What do you want with them, grandchild? Are you
going to be in mischief again?” said the grandmother. However, she gave
them to him, and Ciŋgibis tied two flints to his feet and placed the
chisel in the fire to make it red hot. Then he asked for some eagle
feathers (but this was a wiske·djak (Canadian Jay) feather). He got
them and placed them on his head. When the ice chisel became red hot,
the old grandmother said, “Say, Ciŋgibis, don’t do any mischief again,”
but Ciŋgibis picked up the chisel and ran away with it to the wigwam of
Loon.
Loon always slept with his mouth open. When Ciŋgibis reached the
wigwam, he found every one in it asleep. He shoved the chisel into
Loon’s open mouth, killing him, ran off to his canoe, jumped into it,
and paddled away to his snares. He did this so that no one would
suspect that he had killed their chief. This is the reason why the Loon
always has a black mouth—from where he was burned. Ciŋgibis found a
rabbit in his snare. He placed the blood of the rabbit in some hay and
tied the hay to his stomach.
When he returned to the camp, the people were mourning for Loon.
Ciŋgibis came in slowly. The second chief said, “Ciŋgibis will be very
sorry when he hears that Chief Loon is dead. He was his great friend.
We must tell him before he arrives.” Then the people called to
Ciŋgibis, “Ee Ciŋgibis, the chief is dead.” “What!” said Ciŋgibis, “the
chief is dead!” Then he drew out his knife and pierced the hay full of
rabbit blood. The blood ran out and all the people thought that he had
killed himself. Ciŋgibis then dived into the water and the people came
out in their canoes to look for him. They saw the rabbit blood upon the
water and gave up looking for him. After a few days, they made another
chief, Goose (nixka′), since both Loon and Ciŋgibis were dead.
Ten days after this had happened, early in the morning the people heard
somebody singing near the shore three times, “Who killed our chief? I
am the one.” They awoke Chief Goose and he exclaimed, “I was thinking
that that Ciŋgibis was in all kinds of mischief. So we must try to kill
him.” Accordingly he sent all the men after him in canoes. When
Ciŋgibis dived, they could only see his feathers which his grandmother
had given him, but they could not catch him. Ciŋgibis said to them,
“You are all spirits. Drink all this water and you will get me.” Then
the Ducks and Geese drank all the lake dry and chased Ciŋgibis among
the rocks, and thought that they would catch him. “No, no,” laughed
Ciŋgibis, “I know some more tricks yet.” So he ran about and kicked the
rocks with the flints his grandmother had given him, which were
fastened to his feet, and water began flowing out and finally covered
everything. The people who were pursuing him had to swim for their
lives. They all became ducks. This is the origin of all the ducks. When
the people left their canoes, they were obliged to swim and so they are
swimming yet.
(6) Beaver Gives a Feast.
All the animals, once upon a time, were camped together—the Beaver, the
Otter, the Muskrat, and the others. Their chief was Beaver. Every once
in a while he would give a big feast, build a big wigwam, and invite
all the men and women to come in and eat with him. He would tell them,
“Well, I want to give a feast.” Then they would come in, sit around the
inside of his big wigwam and pass the food around from one to the
other. He would provide lots of grease in birch-bark dishes. Now, one
time, when he gave one of his feasts, Beaver cut his grease supply into
cakes which he served around to his guests. Every time he passed a cake
to a guest, pepedit. Indeed, every time he moved, pepedit, or when he
would go and cut a new block of grease. [34] Now every time the Beaver
broke wind, the Otter laughed. He did not seem to know that this would
offend the Beaver, because he was a little foolish. The other guests
told the Otter, “You mustn’t laugh when Beaver does that; he is our
chief.” Despite this, every time they went to a feast, castore pedente,
the Otter laughed at him.
So one time the Beaver sent a man to invite all the people to another
feast. He sent the messages all through the camp. Now the people told
the Otter this time, “You must not come; you never keep your mouth
shut; you always laugh. If you only knew enough to keep still like the
rest of us, it would be all right, but you had better stay home.” “Oh
well, all right,” said the Otter, “I’ll stay back.” All went to the
feast except the Otter. But he asked the others, “You will have to
bring my share to me, since I can’t come. Tell the chief to send me my
share.” The others agreed and went to attend the feast; but they asked
him, “How big a piece of grease do you want?” The Otter replied, “Bring
me a piece the size of my forearm.” (The otter has a very small
forearm.) When the guests arrived at the feast, the Beaver chief saw
that the Otter was not with them. Said he, “Where, indeed, is Otter? I
like him because he is so funny.” They informed him that the Otter had
not come, but that he wanted the chief to send him a piece of grease as
large as his forearm. The Beaver cut a piece that size and sent it to
the Otter; that is all the Otter got. He did not get very much because
he had such a short forearm. That is the end of my story.
(7) Tcaka·bįs.
Tcaka·bįs lived with his grandmother. One time he made a long journey
and was away for quite a while. He came to where there were some giant
women who were scraping frozen beaver skins, “kąc, kąc.” He returned
home and told his grandmother, “I heard the giant women scraping beaver
hides.” “Don’t go near them,” said his grandmother. And she repeated
this warning often to Tcaka·bįs.
However, one day he returned to where he had heard the giant women, and
when he reached the lake, there they were, chasing beaver on the ice.
When he came up, they knew him and cried out, “Ee, come on, come on,
Tcaka·bįs!” So he went over to them and they said, “There is a beaver
here and you must pull him up.” Tcaka·bįs was small and they thought
the beaver would pull him through the hole into the ice. But he caught
hold of the beaver’s tail and pulled him through all right. Then they
asked him to stay with them, but he went away after he had stolen the
big beaver tail, six feet long, and went back to his grandmother. When
he got home, he showed her the tail, and she asked, “Did you steal it?”
“No, no,” answered he. Then he made a door for their wigwam out of the
tail.
Soon the giant woman came to where he lived and called. “Tcaka·bįs, you
are a dead man!” They came for the purpose of eating Tcaka·bįs and his
grandmother. Then the grandmother said, “I told you not to go there.
Now they say you are a dead man.” But Tcaka·bįs said, “Don’t be afraid,
grandmother. I will take care of you.” Then he took his witch stone
[35] and threw it up inside the wigwam, and the whole wigwam turned to
stone except a little hole in the top for the smoke to come through.
The stone was so thick that they were unable to hear the giant women
pounding on the outside. Then the giant women went away and Tcaka·bįs
lay inside of the wigwam in safety. But he felt a little sick, because
he had eaten too much beaver fat.
Some time after this, Tcaka·bįs went back again to the giant women and
found them pounding up and boiling moose bones to make soup. As he came
up, one of the giant women seized him and threw him into the pot. There
he stayed for a long time, boiling and circling round and round in the
pot, but still he was alive. At last, when the giant women needed
grease, they dipped up Tcaka·bįs with a wooden spoon and threw him
outside. Then Tcaka·bįs went back to his grandmother. He was very thin,
because he had been boiled so long, nothing but skin and bones. That’s
the end; he was a small fellow.
(8) Aniwɔ·ye, [36] the Giant Skunk, and the Origin of Skunks.
Aniwɔ·ye was the monster Skunk. He used to travel all over this world,
trying to find the Ojibwa. He hunted them to kill them. He often took
the form of a man. Whenever he would encounter people, he would
approach them et pepedit towards their camp with his back to them,
killing the people malo ejus odore. In those days there was no other
sickness. That was the only sickness which people had to kill them.
Once upon a time in a camp where there were lots of people, hunters of
a big band, they beheld the tracks of Aniwɔ·ye near one of their
trails. It was winter time. When they saw these tracks, they turned
back from their object because they were afraid Aniwɔ·ye would see
their own tracks and follow them to camp and kill all their people. On
this account they started off in every direction in order to lead
Aniwɔ·ye away from the camp and so save their own people and possibly
themselves. Said they, “We will go to Big Fisher lake, where the Big
Fisher lives.” So they started off. But there was one old woman who
could hardly see. She could not travel with them, so they had to leave
her, as nobody could carry her.
Soon Aniwɔ·ye found their trails and followed them, and soon he came to
the wigwam in which the people had left the old woman. He looked in the
door and saw her sitting near the fire. “Where are all your people?” he
asked her. “They have gone away,” she answered. “They saw Aniwɔ·ye’s
track and departed. But I am too old. I can’t see, I can’t walk; so
they left me here.” This poor old woman thought it was a young man who
spoke to her; she did not know, indeed, that it was Aniwɔ·ye himself.
Then Aniwɔ·ye spoke, “If you can’t walk, I can cure you, so that you
will be as well and strong as you ever were.” So he turned his back to
her et pepedit. He blew the wigwam and the old woman all to pieces.
Then Aniwɔ·ye followed on the trail of the people. When he had tracked
them to Big Fisher lake, he could see right across the lake, because
there was no island in the way, and there, on the other side, he saw
where Big Fisher lived. The people had arrived here after a hard trip
and begged Big Fisher for protection from Aniwɔ·ye. So fast had they
travelled that some of the old people, unable to keep up with the
younger ones, had died of their efforts to hurry. Those who had reached
Big Fisher’s camp kept watching for Aniwɔ·ye to appear across the lake
on their tracks. At last they saw him emerge on the lake and come
towards them. All the way along this pursuit, when he had found the
people who had died on the march, he pulled at them to see if they were
dead. Now, when Aniwɔ·ye appeared Big Fisher said to the people, “We
will go to meet him. You men go ahead and I will hide behind you. So we
will approach him until we get almost within his range. Do not let him
see me, sed cum anum suum nobis verteret, spread apart and let me pass
you to the front. While his back is turned to us, we will fix him.”
They did as they were told, and the band started forward to meet
Aniwɔ·ye, who also approached them slowly.
When they were near enough ut odore ejus attingerentur, Aniwɔ·ye turned
slowly. When his back was toward them, et cum pediturus esset, they
opened ranks and Big Fisher ran forth et prius anum Aniwɔ·yei cepit
quam hie pedere posset. He pinched anum ejus dure. “Ayu!” exclaimed
Aniwɔ·ye. “Ayu, ayu! Let go of me! Non iterum pedam!” But Big Fisher
held on and would not let go. They struggled for some time, but Big
Fisher held fast, and at last Aniwɔ·ye died because he could not
discharge. He died and they were all exceedingly glad, rejoicing that
he was done for. So they cut him up into small bits and scattered the
bits all about. Immediately these turned into little skunks which ran
off into the bush. That was the end of Aniwɔ·ye, the Monster Skunk, but
there are plenty of small skunks now.
(9) The Man Who Transformed a Doll into a Woman and Followed Her into
the World Above.
There was once a man. He was hunting. He had his own wigwam, where he
lived with an old man and an old woman who called him grandchild. He
did not even know his father and mother. He had never seen young
people, so when he became about twenty years old, he began to think
that he ought to get himself a wife. So he started out and travelled
all over, but could not find one. At last, one day, he took a piece of
wood and tried to carve for himself a big doll. He worked hard and
after a while he made it so nearly perfect that it could speak a
little. It was a female, but it did not seem to be complete quite yet.
Said the doll to him, “Put me in your wigwam, cover me up, and do not
look at me for three days. Be sure not to look, because if you do, I
won’t be here.”
“All right,” said he; and placed his doll in his wigwam. To remove
himself from the temptation of breaking her rule he went away by
himself and stayed the first night. The next afternoon he came back and
began wondering to himself. “If I sleep here,” thought he, “I might,
indeed, be tempted to look.” The more he pondered, the more he
weakened. At last, he decided to take a little look. He peeped inside
the wigwam and saw a very nice-looking young girl seated there. Then,
gaining control of himself, he hurried away and camped again that night
alone. The third day he came back again to look at his wife. When he
came near the camp, he went to the water-hole. [37] There he saw a
woman’s track going away from the water-hole. Thought he to himself,
“Alas! my wife has gone.” He walked up to the wigwam, looked in, and
found that the woman had actually gone. [38]
He now decided to follow her. He went to the woods, cut a piece of
cedar, and made himself a bow and a lot of arrows. The next day he
started—this was two days after the woman had left. Then he walked very
fast, starting early in the morning. Soon he came to a small lake lying
still and frozen. When he reached the edge of the ice, he shot an arrow
across, then he sped so fast that he reached the other side of the lake
before the arrow got there. Before noon-time he came to where a camp
was located, and going up to it, beheld an old woman cooking there.
“Oh, my grandchild,” said she, “don’t stand there looking in the door.
Come in and eat.” So he went in. Then he asked her whether she had seen
a woman pass there. She answered, “Yesterday, about noon.” And the old
woman gave him a mess of corn and said, “My dear grandchild, it is very
hard where you are going. Many people have tried to go where your road
leads; but they have never gotten there, for many creatures are seeking
their lives. But I will help you.” Then she gave him a leg-bone of a
lynx. “When you are in trouble, you may need this,” she told him. Then
he started on, following the tracks of his woman. Every time he came to
a lake, he shot an arrow across and sped before it as he had done at
first. He was fast indeed.
Soon he came to another wigwam and peeped into this as he had done into
the first. An old woman who was cooking inside spoke to him, as had the
first, and invited him to come in and eat. Then he asked her when she
had seen the woman pass by. “A little after noon time,” she replied.
Now, by this, he knew that he had not gained very much. As before, he
ate a little snack of corn and the old woman said to him, “Where you
are going will be a very hard trip for you. Many people try it, but
never succeed. They die.” And she, too, gave him a lynx bone and told
him, as the other had done, that it would help him in time of need on
his journey; and he started on again, doing the same at every lake,
until it began to grow late in the day. He had been going so fast that
he felt very tired.
By and by he came to another camp and peeped in, as before, asked the
same question, and was received in the same way. After he had eaten
here, the old woman gave him a squirrel’s tail to help him overcome the
dangers which she warned him against. Said she, “From now on you won’t
see any more camps. Walk very fast now. Soon you will see a big tree
with a square trunk, which will reach very far up into the sky. Now you
won’t see any trail, but look carefully around. That is where your wife
climbed up. There are, indeed, steps cut into the trunk, but you will
not be able to see them. To you it will look smooth.”
So he proceeded on his way and soon came to the place she had spoken
about. There was the big tree, but no tracks were in sight. Around the
base he saw lots of bones, bones of people who had tried to climb but
had fallen down and died. He was bewildered. Then suddenly he
recollected the bones the old women had given him. Taking one in each
hand, like a pick, he began climbing up the great tree. At last he
ascended so high that the bones began to wear away. When they were so
short that he could hardly use them, he looked down. He had gone so
high that he could neither see the world beneath nor the end of the
tree in the sky above. Now his bones were too short to help him, but he
had his bow on his back. He could hardly hold on any longer, so he
cried and yelled for help, but nobody could hear him. Soon he heard a
spirit nearby which murmured to him, “Close your eyes and look through
the tree. You will see steps to climb on.” Then he did as the voice
said and perceived steps. He placed his feet in them and started
running up. But now he made another mistake, he did not keep his eyes
closed. When he looked, lo! he found himself back to where he had begun
to climb the steps, holding on with his worn-out bones. Then he
bethought himself of the squirrel’s tail, and at the same moment found
himself transformed into a squirrel. He found that he could run up the
great tree by tapping his tail on the trunk at each step. At last he
came to a hole in the sky, in the middle of which the great tree
protruded. A wide space, however, surrounded the tree, separating it
from the edge of the sky. It would be necessary for him to jump across
from the trunk to this edge. He made a great effort and sprang for the
edge, but he just managed to catch on at the line of his waist; his
upper parts, which reached above the edge, at once became human; his
lower parts, extending below the edge, remained in the form of the
squirrel.
Then he beheld his wife coming across the surface of this upper world
toward him. Said she, “You should not have come here, because, after
all your trouble, you will die anyway.” She took hold of him and made
shift to raise him. Then she pulled him out after teasing him a little
while. “Now,” she said to him, “we always play ball up here. There are
men here whom you will meet. They are your brothers-in-law. They will
want you to play ball. If they beat you in the game, they will kill
you; but if you beat them, you will survive.”
Then she led him away to a village, where they saw a lot of great White
Bears. This was the great White Bear’s home and his family. Now the old
Bear arranged a contest for the stranger. Said he, “You take this ball
and go around the edge of this world, running. One of these Bears will
race with you, to see who gets back here first.” So they started. The
Bear took the ball in his mouth and, as soon as he started running, the
man jumped upon his back and shook his ears, which made the Bear drop
the ball. Then he threw the ball ahead. In this way, repeating the
trick, they went around the world, and the man succeeded in getting
back first. When he reached the starting point, the Bears said, “You
seem to be a pretty good man; but there are still more tricks for you
to perform. If you win, you can stay.”
And they all went out together and came to a big rock. One of the White
Bears tried to move this rock, and with a great effort he succeeded in
moving it a little. “Now, you try,” said they, “and if you can’t move
it, you are a dead man.” Then the man took his bow and arrow and shot
it at the rock. The rock immediately broke into fragments. “Indeed, you
are a great man, our brother-in-law, and can stay here and hunt and
live with us,” said the old White Bear. Then the old Bear told him,
after a while, that he had better go and hunt, or he would grow
lonesome in his new life. By this time they had grown to like him very
much.
One afternoon, late, he started off to hunt. Everything that he met
seemed strange to him in this new world. Soon he came to a lake with a
little ice on it, and when he walked out he beheld tracks of some
animal. Soon he came to a place where a big wooden mallet lay on the
ice. He thought to himself that somebody had lost this mallet. Then he
took it by the handle and hammered on the ice. Immediately the hammer
fell through. Up from the hole in the ice a red otter emerged. He
killed the red otter. Then he went on with the hammer to another place.
There he tried again, and this time got a blue otter. He tried again at
another place and got a black otter, which was like the otters of this
world. So, taking his load of otters, he went home to display what he
thought was a pretty good hunt. He carried his game in a bag of
leather. When he got to his wigwam, he shoved his bag in the entrance
ahead of him, so that his wife could open it and see what he had
brought. [39] Thought she to herself, when she saw the game-bag, “I
wonder if he will show himself to be a good hunter.” She saw some blood
on the bag. Opening it, she beheld the otters, Now the man had made a
mistake, for these were tame otters and belonged to the Bears. She went
out crying to her people, “This man has killed our otters!” When the
old White Bear heard about the news, he said to his family, “We should
have told this man about our otters, because he didn’t know. On this
account it is all right.” He said no more, because he was afraid of the
magic possessed by his new son-in-law.
(10) Ayas·e and the Origin of Bats.
The Ayas·e family was a large family. They lived in a camp. Very often
they used to go picking berries, for their country was a rocky country
where berries abounded. Very often some of the berry-pickers would get
lost and never be found again. It was thought that some creature made a
prey of them and ate them.
One time one of the Ayas·e men was travelling. On his way he came
across a kind of cabin of rock, from the top of which smoke was rising
and in front of which a number of human skulls hung in the opening. Now
this Ayas·e managed to enter. By being very careful and not touching
the skulls, he gained the inside of the rock house without making any
noise. These skulls were put there to rattle when anybody tried to
pass. When Ayas·e got inside, he beheld two old blind women. As soon as
they became aware of his presence, one of them said, “We had better
begin to cook something and we will find out if Ayas·e is passing
here.” Now these old women had some grease in a bark dish and one of
them put some of the grease in a cooking pail. When she did this,
Ayas·e pulled it out with his hand and ate it. Then she took the spoon
to taste her grease, but found it gone. So she put another lump in the
dish. Ayas·e took this, and when she started to dip it up, it, too, was
gone. This happened three or four times. At last the old woman said,
“Ayas·e must have passed; somebody told us that Ayas·e was going to
pass. He must have passed now.” Then she took a stick which she used to
poke the fire with and began feeling all around, poking in the corners
of the wigwam to find if Ayas·e were there. Every time she came near
poking him, he moved to another part of the wigwam, so she could not
reach him. Pretty soon she touched him with the poker and then he took
off his coat of fisher-skin which he was wearing and threw in into the
door-way. The old women jumped up and when they felt the fur coat they
thought it was Ayas·e trying to escape through the door. Now these old
women had a sharp pointed bone at each elbow. With this pointed bone
they began stabbing the fur coat in their haste to kill Ayas·e, and
pretty soon in their blind fury they fell to stabbing each other, each
one thinking she was stabbing Ayas·e. They killed each other. One of
the old women said before she died, “I believe you hit me by mistake.”
It was too late; they both died.
Now Ayas·e in the wigwam sat down and looked at them a long time. Then
he dragged them outside and looked at them a long time. All around the
wigwam he saw the men’s and women’s bones, the bones of the victims of
these two old blind women. Then he knew that all of his lost people had
been killed by the old women and eaten. They were cannibals in the
shape of monster bats, large enough to kill and eat people. Then Ayas·e
took their bodies and cut them up into small pieces. These he threw
into the air and they sailed off, transformed into small bats as we see
them to-day. I did not see any more.
(11) Origin of the Constellation Fisher (Ursa Major). [40]
The Fisher (mustela pennanti) was living somewhere in this world.
Nobody knows where. Now in those times they had no summer. It was
winter, winter all the time. They knew that summer existed somewhere,
but it never came to them, although they wanted it very much.
Now, once upon a time a man captured some little birds which are called
ni·bənis·e “summer (guardian) birds.” He tied them in bundles and kept
them with him all the time. That was the reason why it was continually
winter, for so long as he held these birds, they could not bring summer
to the North Country. The people pondered very much how to go about
freeing these birds from the creature who kept them. At last somebody
discovered where this creature lived, and they decided that some one
would go and try to free the Summer-birds. Now the Fresh-water Herring
lived in the same wigwam with the man who kept the Summer-birds.
The Fisher at last decided to go and free the birds, so that summer
would come. He travelled a long while and reached the wigwam where the
captor and the Herring lived. When he went in, he found the Herring
alone. He captured the Herring and put some pitch on his mouth, so that
he could not cry out. Then Fisher took the bundles of birds and tried
to break the bindings, so that he could free them. Using his teeth at
last he tore open the bundles and the Summer-birds flew free into the
air. Then the pitch broke from the Herring’s mouth and he cried out,
“Fisher breaks the bundle! The Summer-birds! Fisher breaks the bundles
with his teeth! The Summer-birds!” Two or three times he cried out,
until their captor heard him. Then he came up running, but when he
arrived, the Fisher and the Summer-birds were already far away.
The Fisher ran very fast to save himself. His pursuer had a bow and
arrow with which he was going to kill him, but the Fisher sprang into
the sky and climbed way up, with the hunter following behind him, still
trying to shoot him with his bow and arrow. All he succeeded in
shooting, however, was his tail, which is broken where it was wounded.
[41] Although they chased him continually, they never got him.
(12) The Young Loon.
Once in the autumn of the year, when the birds were ready to fly to the
south for the winter, a young Loon was unable to fly far enough to go
with the rest of the birds. So he said to his mother, “I cannot go back
south with you, as I am not strong enough. But I will stay here all
winter in this place, and in the spring, when you come back, I will
meet you here at this very spot. When you come back and find me here,
it will be on a misty morning.” So they all flew away to the south, and
the young Loon was left behind for the winter. The mother was very sad
because she had to leave him and because he was not strong enough to go
with them.
In the spring time, when the ice is breaking up in the lake, and it
becomes misty, the Indians say, “The Loon is coming back from her
winter sojourn in the South.”
(13) The Giant Pike.
At that time there were two people living who got married and had some
daughters and sons. These grew up and married. One of the sons married
and had children, two sons. The grandfather of these died. Then the
father and mother died, and left the children with only their
grandmother to look after them. At this time they were big enough to
shoot bows and arrows and to go in a canoe with their grandmother to
set the night lines [42] for fish. They lived only by fishing, because
the grandmother was too old to do anything else.
So these two boys used to play around, shooting bows and arrows for
fun, just as the Ojibwa boys do now. They used to play near a lake.
Then their grandmother would say to them, “Don’t swim in that lake.
There is a big pike in there and he might swallow you.” The older boy
believed his grandmother, but the younger did not. So one day, while
they were playing, the younger boy by mistake shot his arrow out in the
lake. He could see it floating on the surface, so he took off his
clothes to swim to it. But his brother said, “You know what grandmother
told you. The big pike might swallow you.” But the boy started to swim
nevertheless, saying, “Koga′miko” (“swallowed in the water”) with each
stroke that his arms took. When he called this out, the big pike came
and swallowed him.
His brother began crying and ran back to his grandmother in the wigwam,
saying, “My little brother is koga′miko, ‘swallowed in the water’.”
Then his grandmother began crying and the two were crying together.
Soon after this they again set their night lines. When they looked
toward the lake, three days later, they saw the float sticks together
and the boy said, “We have a fish.” But the grandmother cried and would
not look toward the lake where her grandson had died. But soon she went
along in the canoe, crying, and pulled in the line. At the end was a
very large fish, and they could see that his stomach was full of
something. He was so large that they could scarcely pull him into the
canoe. However, they managed to get him in and then they paddled to the
shore and dragged the fish to a place where they could conveniently
clean it. They cut his belly, which was distended, and out jumped the
younger brother. “I’m scalded with the intestines! (Ninbabe′nəs,)”
[43] he cried. “I’m scalded. I’ve been here three days.” He was already
beginning to be digested. The grandmother was very glad to get her
grandson back again. That is the end.
(14) Lynx and His Two Wives.
There was a time when Lynx had two wives, the one a Rabbit and the
other a Marten. The three lived in a wigwam. At this time Lynx drove
beaver during the winter time. [44] Rabbit was a very good hunter. But
Lynx this winter had very poor luck and they became very hungry. Lynx
beat his wives because they couldn’t find the beaver. He said to them,
“If you don’t get some beaver for me, I’ll eat both of you.” At this
they became very much frightened. So Rabbit went to a beaver place, and
putting a stick in the hole, she felt a beaver in it. Then Rabbit went
home and told Marten, and they both were glad to get a beaver and save
their lives. Then they both went back to the hole. While Rabbit was
pulling the beaver out of the hole and had hold of his hind quarters,
Lynx came along and tickled Rabbit, so that she let go and the beaver
escaped. Lynx was bent on mischief. He said, “If you don’t get some
beaver, I’ll kill you tonight.”
Rabbit and Marten went home and burrowed a tunnel in the snow, inside
the wigwam. Then they both went into a hole to hide and closed the hole
behind them. When Lynx reached home, he was unable to find his wives,
but he knew they were somewhere near. So he began to pull up testes
suos in se and then he began dancing. [45] He said to himself, “When
they hear this funny thing, they will laugh.” Pretty soon Marten
laughed, and Lynx, digging her out of the hole, killed and ate her.
Soon he grew hungry and tried the same trick. But Rabbit was very much
afraid and would not laugh. Lynx kept on doing this for some time and
finally gave it up. He sat near the fire and cut his belly open, taking
out some of his intestines which he roasted and ate. At last, when he
had eaten all his intestines, he came to his heart. When he pulled at
this, “Huk, huk”! it made a noise. At last he jerked and pulled at it
so hard that he died. This is the end. But all the grandchildren of
Lynx have testicles as they are to-day.
(15) Story of Seal Rock in Lake Timagami.
Once upon a time, on a small island in Lake Timagami, some people went
ashore, and one of the women left her baby in a cradle-board on a rock,
while she went a short distance off. When she came back, the baby was
gone; it had been taken by a big manitu (magic) seal who lived in a
rock and he had taken the child inside with him. The child’s father was
also a manitu, so he began burrowing and digging into the rock for his
baby and he dug a channel. This hole is there yet. When he reached the
baby, it was dead, and the seal was gone. It had dived and crossed two
miles under water to Seal island and gone into a big rock there. He
dove and followed, as he was mi·te·′ and came to the big rock where the
seal had gone in. With his chisel he split the rock, but the seal
escaped. The rock is there yet, split down the centre.
(16) Rabbit, Lynx, and Fisher.
At the time of which my story speaks Lynx and Fisher had the same sharp
nose and face. Fisher used to jump right through a big boulder as high
as a man whenever he wanted to. One day he told Lynx to try to beat him
and jump through. So Lynx tried to do it and smashed his face flat, as
it is now. He went away very sore. Soon he met Rabbit. “Kwe, kwe,” Lynx
asked Rabbit, “where are you going?” Rabbit answered, “I am going to
the short flat-faced country.” Lynx did not understand the joke, and he
let Rabbit pass.
Lynx went on and came to a stream into whose waters he looked, and saw
some flints. He tried to reach some to pick them up and beheld himself
in the water. He discovered how ugly he was. “I’m so ugly. That is what
Rabbit meant when he met me. I’ll fix him.” So he went back, struck
Rabbit’s trail, and followed him. So he followed the trail until it
went into a hole in the snow under a bush. Lynx looked in and saw
Rabbit sitting there, reading. He asked Rabbit, “Has anybody been
passing here lately Hee!” Rabbit made no answer. Lynx asked this
question twice and at last Rabbit spoke, “Tsc, tsc, it’s Sunday
to-day.” Lynx asked the same question again and received the same
reply. Then Rabbit said, “Why don’t you go around and find his track?”.
When Lynx went around, Rabbit ran out and off. When Lynx saw him run,
he chased him and caught him.
“Can you talk English?” said Lynx. “Yes,” answered Rabbit. “Well, can’t
you talk white?” “Yes,” answered Rabbit. “Well, if you don’t talk
white, I’ll kill you.” So Rabbit had to talk white. “Well, what do you
call ‘fire’ in English.” “Wayaʻkabi·′te” (people sitting around a
fire), answered Rabbit. “How do they say ‘axe’ there?”
“Me′matowes‵iŋg” (“noise of chopping”). “What do you call knife?”
asked Lynx. “Taya′tacki·‵wəgis·e” (“sliced meat”), answered Rabbit.
“You are a liar”, said Lynx. “Ki·niŋgwa‵zəm, you are a liar.” And he
killed Rabbit.
(17) Snaring the Sun.
There was once a boy who used to set his snares for his living. One day
he saw a track where the snow was melted, and after a while he decided
to set his snares there and catch the animal that made the tracks. So
he set his snare and went away. That track was the sun’s track, and
when the sun came by next day, it got caught. The sun didn’t rise the
next day and there was steady darkness. The people began to be puzzled.
“Where did you set your snare?” they asked him. He told them, and they
went to look. There they saw the sun caught, but no one could go near
enough to loosen it A number of animals tried to do this, but they all
got burned. At last the Beaver-mouse managed to cut it with his teeth
and freed it. But his teeth got burned with the heat, and so they are
brown to this day, but the sun is here and we have the daylight.
(18) Homo Excrementi.
There were a number of people camping, and one man was camping by
himself. He was a young man and he tried to get his neighbour’s
daughter to marry him, but she wouldn’t have him, saying that he was
not good enough. And so the young man went back and forth trying to get
a wife.
Then the people went away to another place to camp, as it was getting
spring, but the young man stayed back. He was full of mite·′win. [46]
He planned to have revenge upon the girl who would not have him. He
collected omne excrementum quod invenire potuit and made it into the
shape of a man. He was determined to settle with the girls who had
refused him, for he was full of revenge. When he had made the man
alive, he sent him to where the girls were camping. The new creature
was frozen nice and hard, he was nice-looking, and he could talk.
And so Homo excrementi came, early in the morning, crunching through
the snow to where the girls were in camp. When they saw him coming,
they cried, “Somebody’s coming. Make a fire.” And when he reached the
camp every one received him in fine style, as he was such a nice
fellow. “Where do you come from? Who is your father?” they asked him.
“Hump-back,” said he. “Who is your mother?” “Flat-set excrementum,”
answered he. But the old people did not understand him. He was unable
to stay near the fire long, for fear he would melt. They wished him to
stay at the camp, but he couldn’t, so he hurried away.
Then one of the girls who had refused the young man in marriage
followed him and he led her a long chase. She began to feel it grow
warmer (it was April) and soon she found one of his mittens and later
his hat. At last it became so warm that she came to the place where he
had melted altogether et ibi erat agger excrementi. When she examined
the hat, internum ejus excrementi illitum invenit. So she went back
home saying, “Good for him, he’s melted. I’m glad he is melted.” She
couldn’t catch him anyway, so she was angry.
So young girls should not try always to get a nice-looking man, but
take the man selected for them. The old people tell them this story for
a lesson, lest they lose a good man, though not so handsome, to get a
“stinker.”
(19) The Origin of Snakes.
A man was one time walking along and came to a lake which he wanted to
cross. But he had no canoe, and so he walked along the shore until he
saw a big Snake lying in the water with his head on the shore. “Will
you carry me across?” asked the hunter. “Yes,” answered the Snake. “But
it looks cloudy and I am afraid of the lightning, so you must tell me
if it thunders while we are crossing.” The hunter got on the Snake’s
back and they started to swim across the lake. As they went along,
thunder began rumbling, “kαx kαx,” and the lightning flashed. “Mah,
mah, listen!” said the Snake in fear. “I hear something.” Just as they
reached the shore, when the hunter could leap to safety, a stroke of
lightning hit the Snake and broke him into numberless pieces, which
began swimming about and finally came to land. The great Snake was not
killed, but his pieces turned into small snakes which we see all about
to-day.
(20) Muskrat Warns the Beaver.
The Muskrat, Beaver, Dog, and some Ojibwa were companions and hunters.
They were real people who could talk to one another. They started out
one day and came to a small lake and there they saw Beaver houses and
families. It was early in the winter. They said, “That’s a good lake to
drive the beaver, as it’s all rocky and they can’t escape. The season
is right, so we will come tomorrow with dogs.” The Beavers were in
their houses and they saw the Indians, but they couldn’t hear the
talking. The Muskrat heard, however, and went to the Beaver and told
them. “You must look out for yourselves, uncles. Those Indians say you
are very easy to catch.” Now the Muskrat had stayed outside the
Indians’ wigwam and listened to what they were saying, until his feet
got so cold that he could stay no longer. So that this was all that he
had heard to tell his uncle the Beaver.
The next morning the Indians came to the lake and broke the Beaver’s
houses, and the big Beaver told the young ones, “When you see a dog
passing, whistle.” So the young Beavers went to different places under
the ice and when they saw a dog passing, they whistled and all were
thus caught and killed by the men. But the big Beaver didn’t whistle,
and he escaped. The Indians said, “Where’s the big Beaver?” Then they
went back and had a big feast on those they had caught. In those days
people used to cut a flat bone from the hind foot of the beaver and
throw it into the water, so that the dogs wouldn’t get it. These
hunters, however, made a mistake and forgot to save that bone. They
lost it. [47]
So the Indians had their feast, and when they threw the bones into the
water, one of the little Beavers came back to life and went back to his
parents. He said to them, “I had a fine time, father. They hung me over
the fire, and I danced for them.” Shortly all the Beavers came back,
but one of them said, “I’m very sick, father. They didn’t use me
right.” This was the Beaver whose bone from his hind foot the hunters
had lost. He was very sore and disgusted and showed his father the
fresh mark of his foot where the flat bone was lost, when they asked
him what was the matter. The Beavers did not like this and they became
angry. So nowadays the Indians tell the young boys neither to talk
about the Beavers, nor the prospects of a hunt before attacking a
beaver colony, lest the Muskrat hear them and tell the Beaver. And
also, when the hunting dogs suddenly go off from camp and run over the
ice, the hunters say the dogs hear the beavers whistling.
(21) Story of a Hunter.
There were two men living in a camp with two women and the rest of the
band. On a cold day in winter one of the men said he was going to track
a moose, and left on his snowshoes. He said he would be back by night.
He was gone all day and by night he had not returned, so his wife began
to think that possibly he had shot a moose, but, as he had taken his
axe with him, he might have cut himself in some way. They waited until
morning and then, taking up his trail, they tracked him to where he had
shot a moose and farther on to where he had skinned it. The meat was
there, but the skin was gone. Looking around they saw a fire not far
off. When they reached the fire they discovered that the hunter had
rolled himself up in the green hide to sleep, and during the night it
had frozen around him and he had been unable to get out. They thawed
out the skin and all went back to camp.
(22) A Timagami Story.
Once there were a man and his wife living in a bark wigwam. The wife
grew very fond of another man et voluit copulare cum eo sine cognitione
mariti sui. They finally hit upon a plan. She cut a small hole in the
bark near her bedding ut ille cum ea nocte copulare posset. She slept
near the hole et omne bene factum est, sed maritus tandem invenit quid
fieret. So one night he ordered his wife to change places with him when
they slept, et cum venisset amator, maritus penem ejus abscidit per
orificium positum. Tunc membrum virile cepit, without telling his wife
what had happened, and went off on a moose hunt. He killed a moose and
took its intestine end [described like an appendix], secuit penem in
fragmenta, mixed these with fat, and made a smoked sausage out of the
whole. [48] Then he went home and gave it to his wife to eat. When she
had eaten it, he said, “Nunc edisti penem amatoris tui.”
(23) Story of a Fast Runner.
Once a hunter was so quick of foot that when he shot his arrow at a
beaver plunging into the lake from the shore, he would run down, catch
the beaver by the tail before the arrow got to it, and hold it until
the arrow struck. He was a fast runner, indeed.
(24) The Hunter and the Seven Deer.
There once was a hunter who lived in a camp. The summer had been very
dry and the whole country was on fire. He stayed in his camp, however,
although the smoke was so thick that no one could see any distance. One
day he saw seven deer walking along, each holding the other’s tail in
its mouth. The leader alone could see, and he was guiding the others.
So he killed the leader and then took hold of the second deer’s nose,
and so lead them all to his camp alive, where he butchered them.
(25) Story of a Conjurer.
There was a conjurer (mi·te′w), [49] whose name was Gitcikwe′we
(“buzzing noise”), his wife Pi·dje′ʻkwe [50] and their children,
camping at a lake in a wigwam. There was a large lake to the west of
where they were camping full of islands. It was a long portage from the
wigwam to this lake.
One evening, while Gitcikwe′we was sitting in his wigwam, he became
very much frightened. He saw nothing in particular that frightened him,
but on account of his mi·te′w feeling he became afraid and knew that
something was coming. At dusk he gathered up his blankets and jumped
into his canoe with his family, and they floated on the lake beside the
camp, all night long. When he went back to the wigwam in the morning,
he found that a Windigo [51] had been there and had smashed his wigwam.
Then the family started to take the portage which led across to the big
lake containing the islands. When Gitcikwe′we took the portage, he sent
his wife and children ahead and told them to hurry on as fast as they
could, while he would follow behind with the canoe. He said, “When you
hear ‘Meat bird’ (Wiske·djak [52]) flying above you, that means
‘Hurry’, for the Windigo is coming behind to catch you. That will be
your warning.” They reached the other end of the portage and got into
the canoe and paddled out to one of the islands to a place where the
end of the portage, from which they had just come out, was lost to
view. They were safe there, as the Windigo, having no canoe, could not
cross. After Gitcikwe′we put up his camp, he said to his wife, “I am
not yet satisfied. I must beat that Windigo, because he will bother us
all winter, and then we will starve, for I cannot hunt while staying at
camp all the time, watching out for you and the children.”
Then he made his mi·te′o wigwam with its seven poles and covered it
with bark. [53] He went into it and it began to work and move, while a
band of spirits could be heard singing inside. [54] Then Windigo came
there and Gitcikwe′we said to his wife, “We will clinch him and take
him away out west where he came from.” When he clinched him, the
conjuring wigwam shook and made a noise like thunder, and the children
fainted from fright, for they knew their father was inside. When they
recovered consciousness, everything was still in the wigwam, and their
father had gone out west, taking his captive with him. A little while
after this the wigwam started to move again and Gitcikwe′we was back
again from his trip out west. He said to his family, “We will be all
right now. I took him back west. He is very sick from his fright but he
will stay there now.”
There was another mi·te′ Indian one day’s journey from where
Gitcikwe′we was camping. This Indian was so full of mi·te′ also that,
while he was asleep, he heard Windigo passing overhead with a great
moaning noise as if he were in pain. No other people heard it except
this man, because they were not mi·te′.
Next morning Gitcikwe′we awoke and found that it was a fine day with no
wind to bother, and the whole family was happy to think of passing
another winter. Shortly after they had gotten up, they heard a great
noise of shouting in the direction of the end of the portage from where
they had come and which was just lost to view. When Gitcikwe′we heard
this, he loaded his flint lock gun to shoot Windigo, for he thought he
had come back and was making the noise and concluded that that was the
only way to get rid of him. He and his wife got into the canoe for this
purpose. When they turned the point, they saw a young man standing
right in the portage. It was Gitcikwe′we’s wife’s nephew. He had left
his canoe at the other end of the portage, as it was so long to carry
it, and he was expecting his aunt to take him across in her canoe. So
he got into the canoe and the three of them returned to camp. [55]
(26) Legend of Obabika Lake.
Obabika lake is called Ma′nitu Pi·pa′gi·, “Spirit Echo.” On the eastern
shore of this lake is a great rock where a Manitu is believed to live.
Whenever anyone makes a noise in the vicinity, the Manitu becomes angry
and growls. His plaints, the Indians believe, can be clearly heard when
he is offended. The Ojibwa never go near there when they can avoid it;
and they seldom throw a stone in the lake, splash their paddles, or
shoot their guns near its shores.
(27) Iroquois Pictographs.
“The Iroquois used to come here to fight the Ojibwa because the
Americans had driven them from their homes in the States and the
Iroquois had to seek new countries beyond the settlements in the North.
In their excursions, when they got far from home, they cut and painted
pictures in the rocks on river or lake shores, so that their friends,
if they ever penetrated so far, would know that their own people had
been there before them. The characters of these pictures would tell
what had happened, so that if the advance party never returned to their
people, some record would at least be left behind of their journey.”
[56]
The Ojibwa attributed nearly all pictographs to the Iroquois. On Lady
Evelyn lake are a number of such figures, showing animals and men in
canoes.
(28) An Iroquois Legend.
At that time there were people living, four in number: a woman, a young
baby who could hardly walk, and two sons who were grown-up men. Their
father had died and the family lived together in a wigwam. It was
winter and the sons had two rabbit snares’ trails, one to the east and
the other to the north, and they went to different lines on different
days. The mother would attend to the snares and leave the baby, wrapped
in a rabbit skin blanket, alone in the camp, while the two sons would
hunt and look around for game, having only bows and arrows.
When they came home in the evening, they would sometimes bring with
them spruce partridge and other kinds of partridge. Their mother used
to bring home partridges also, but she had no bow or arrows, and the
men wondered how she did it, because she often brought home as many as
ten birds. They could not understand how she was able to do better than
they, so they asked her, “What did you do it with?” They never went
with their mother to where she had her snares, but they were
continually asking her how she caught the partridges. She answered, “I
cut a pole, put a string there on the end, and catch them by the neck,
since I have no bow.” But they didn’t believe her, as they often saw
arrow wounds in the partridges’ breasts. They looked at these wounds
and said, “Somebody must have shot them for you. Was it not the
Iroquois?” “No,” answered the mother, “I caught them with a pole snare
and poked them with a stick in order to bloat them with blood, so they
will make more bouillon.” But still they didn’t believe her and they
said to each other, “Mother doesn’t like to tell us. Some Iroquois, I
guess, are going to kill us. We’ll fool our mother and these Iroquois.
When we go to bed, we’ll sleep with our baby.”
So that night they said to their mother, “We want to sleep with our
brother the baby, on his side of the wigwam.” They dried their
moccasins, put them on, and also put on rabbit skin blankets, for they
were preparing to run out during the night. They had discovered a place
the day before where trees had fallen down and snow had covered them,
thus making a tunnel. So that night they rolled their little brother up
in a blanket and left early in the night, unknown to their mother. When
they left, the Iroquois were getting closer. The mother awoke and cried
out, “Madja′wαk they are going!” She did this to help the Iroquois find
them. The Iroquois followed them on snowshoes, but the sons made a
great number of branch trails in order to deceive them.
The three finally reached their windfall tunnel and there they stayed
and waited for the Iroquois. At daylight the Iroquois took up the trail
and followed until they finally reached them. The three in the cave
could hear the Iroquois talking above them. One of the Iroquois dug a
hole in the snow above the tunnel and peeped down to see if the three
were there. As one by one the Iroquois looked through the hole, the
sons shot them, the arrow falling back through the hole so that they
could use it again. They killed nearly all of them, and at last no more
Iroquois faces appeared above the hole, but the sons could hear crying.
Finally they decided to come out, and one of the sons went out first to
look around, but he could see no one. They then started back to the
wigwam, following the Iroquois tracks, but they only saw two trails.
One of the sons went a little ahead and the other followed behind with
the baby.
When they reached their wigwam, they found it smashed to pieces and the
poles flattened out. Their mother was killed and the Iroquois had cut
off her breasts and made babiche strings [57] of it. These two Iroquois
who were left had made a tripod of sticks and had wound the skin all
the way around it. Then they had gone and were never seen again. The
mother had agreed with the Iroquois that they were not to kill her if
she didn’t tell her sons of their whereabouts.
TIMAGAMI FOLK-LORE.
(1)
It is not proper to tell stories in summer, lest one die; but, if
stories are told, they must be told for ten successive evenings in
order to prevent the evil.
(2)
In order to foretell the sex of the child about to be born, the first
vertebra of a moose or deer may be used. The appearance of one side of
this bone resembles a man’s face, while the other resembles a woman’s.
The seeker for information may place this bone on top of his head and
let it drop to the ground. Whichever face turns upward like a die
indicates the sex of the child. This bone is called uta′backo‵k·e “back
neck-bone”.
(3)
A little device to bring rain: suck the flat side of a green leaf until
it snaps, or slap one hand with the palm of the other, holding the leaf
in the fist of the first.
(4)
Northern Lights: Wase′tibik·an, “light of night.”
(5)
Bine·′s·i·wi·mi·′k·‵an, “birds’ path”. This is the Milky Way, which is
believed to be the guide to the birds in their spring and autumn
migrations.
(6)
Wətα′gwanobi·‵s·an “mist from the water” (?). This is the rainbow,
which is thought to be caused by mist generated in the air by waves of
some great sea.
(The Matachewan Indians of Montreal river call the rainbow
Ani′miki·unujea‵bi “thunder’s legging string”!)
(7)
The whippoorwill (wa′hone·‵s·i) is very rarely heard in Bear island,
although the bird frequents some parts of the lake. Its cry is
considered an omen of ill fortune or of death. Another idea connected
with the whippoorwill’s cry is that it is the signal cry of the
Iroquois (Ma′djina‵dowes·i “bad Iroquois,” referring to the tribes of
the League as distinct from those of Caughnawaga) and that it indicates
the proximity of enemies.
(8)
When robins (gwi·′ckwe) sing noticeably during the day it is a sign of
coming rain. The toad’s (omα′k·αki) song in the daytime has the same
portent.
(9)
To kill blue-bottle flies will bring rain.
(10)
If anyone finds or sees a live mole it is a sign that some member of
the family will die soon. Moles are very rare in the Timagami
neighbourhood and quite a stir is raised when one is encountered.
(11)
Hiccoughing is a sign that the victim has been stealing something. If
it is true and the victim is accused of it, he will stop hiccoughing
from fright.
(12)
If a child is born feet first he is gifted with curing powers for
people with sore backs. They let him jump on the patient’s back.
(13)
The method of cooking squirrels (dji·′tɔ′mǫ) has an influence upon the
weather forces. Squirrels are usually cooked by splitting the carcass,
after it has been skinned, and roasting it in the flames until done.
Should the animal, however, be boiled instead, it will bring rain. When
rain is needed, squirrels are boiled purposely to bring it.
(14)
To bring on a snowstorm an infant is allowed to make its moccasin print
in the snow.
(15)
If an infant warms its hands before the fire, it is a sure sign of cold
weather coming.
(16)
A red sunset with red clouds is a sign of wind.
(17)
A whirling buzzer, made by spinning a bone or wooden disk on a string
operated by the two hands, will cause the wind to rise.
(18)
A divination device is used before the hunt to foretell what kind of
game is going to be killed. It is as follows. The metacarpal bone of a
beaver’s hind leg, with its sinew covering, is taken and cut nearly
through, so that it will break easily.
This is stuck upright in the ground near the fire and a series of lines
radiating from it are traced in the ashes or ground, each line being
named for some game animal: moose, beaver, caribou, deer, bear, otter,
martin, fisher, etc. Then, as the heat shrinks the sinew, it breaks the
bone at the cut and the upper piece points along one of the lines
marked. This answers what kind of game is going to be gotten. The lines
sometimes also are used to denote the direction to be followed to get
the animals designated.
(A variation of this operation was noted from the Mattagami band. Here
a stick is used instead of a beaver bone and the base of the stick is
burned. When this falls, it denotes the direction to be taken to secure
game).
(19) Supernatural Creatures.
Pa·′gαk. This is a personification of a human skeleton without the
flesh, which wanders about the country. When he travels, he goes as
fast as he thinks. When he wishes himself to be in a place, he is there
as soon as he thinks of it. When he is heard by the people, it is a
sign that someone will die. It is thought that he is heard occasionally
three times in succession, making his peculiar noise, once at the
horizon, once at the zenith, and again at the opposite horizon.
Me·′megwe·‵s·i. A species of creature which lives in the high remote
ledges. They are small and have hair growing all over their bodies. The
Indians think they are like monkeys, judging from specimens of the
latter they have seen in the picture-books. These dwarf-like creatures
have ugly faces and seek to hide them when they meet with people. A
little narrative of a meeting with these creatures is told by some
Timagami Indians who had been to Lake Timiskaming. The Indians were
passing the high ledge of rock a few miles below Haileybury, where the
water was very deep and where they had set their nets. They found that
somebody had been stealing fish. They proceeded to watch the nets and
soon saw three Me·′megwe·‵s·i come out astride of an old log for a
canoe, using sticks for paddles. The Indians pursued them, the fairies
meanwhile hiding their faces. Finally the Indians caught one. Then one
Indian said, “Look behind!” When the fairy turned quickly they got a
glimpse of how ugly he was. The Indians then took a knife from this
fairy and the rest disappeared, riding their log through the rock wall
to the inside, where they could be heard crying, as this was where they
lived. The Indians then threw the knife at the rock and it went right
through to the inside to its owner.
APPENDIX: NOTES ON TIMAGAMI FOLK-LORE.
(By Neil C. Fergusson.)
[Note.
Under date of August 30, 1913, Mr. Neil C. Fergusson, Timagami Fire
Ranger, wrote from Bear island, Lake Timagami: “While at Bear Island I
met Mr. Speck, who was gathering Indian lore and legends for the
Victoria Memorial Museum. His work interested me greatly.” He then
proceeds to communicate some folk-lore material which he had himself
collected from Timagami Indians. This, kindly put by Mr. Fergusson at
the disposal of the Geological Survey, is here added as a supplement to
Dr. Speck’s own data.
E. Sapir.]
(1) Whisky Jack and the Markings on Birch Bark.
“One Indian told me a few incidents about Whisky Jack (Anglicised form
of native Wiske·djak) and ended by saying that he had seen the outline
of that strange personage imprinted on a rock along the Ottawa river.
He said that the markings on the birch bark were caused by Whisky Jack
when he struck the bark, which was once clear, with a balsam bough and
then threw a bird at the tree. Hence the knots give the appearance of a
bird with outstretched wings, as seen on the enclosed piece of bark
(see Figure 2).”
(2) The Two Girls, Hell-Diver, and Loon. [58]
Once upon a time two girls who were out in the woods climbed a tall
spruce tree, but when they wanted to descend, they found that it was
impossible. Just then a Moose passed near the tree and both girls
called to him for help. The Moose, however, passed on without aiding
them. Likewise a Deer, an Otter, and a Lynx all went by, but from none
did they receive any help. At last a Wolverine came along and listened
to the girls’ entreaties. He finally climbed the tree and brought the
girls safely to the ground, after which all three walked along
together. The girls didn’t wish the Wolverine as a companion, so one of
them said that she had dropped her hair-ribbon near the spruce tree and
asked the unwelcome companion to go back for it, saying that they would
wait where they were until he returned. The kind Wolverine went off on
his errand, and, as soon as he was out of sight, the two girls made
their departure. So the Wolverine came back and saw no girls. He heard
a whistle and went in that direction. Then he heard another whistle
behind him, and so on, but still he failed to find the girls, for the
trees were whistling one after another in order to fool the poor
Wolverine. The Wolverine went his own way, feeling very much grieved.
The girls walked on swiftly until they came to a little wigwam built in
the bush. It was a very pretty wigwam and looked so inviting to the
tired girls that they went inside to rest. Soon a Bird, who was the
owner, came along and demanded their business in his wigwam. They told
him that they had lost their way, so he gave them a cup of tea and
directed them on their journey. The girls travelled on and came at last
to a river at the end of which was a lake. A Beaver was paddling his
canoe down the stream, but wouldn’t take the girls in. Next a Loon, who
was the king of all water animals, came along in his canoe, but he also
refused to take them with him. Finally a “Hell-diver” came paddling by.
He was very kind and took the two girls down to the lake where he dwelt
and told them that they might sleep in his wigwam that night. He gave
them some blankets and then went out on business.
The girls, however, couldn’t go to sleep, for they heard music and knew
that a dance must be going on. They got out of their bed and went to
the house where they heard the music. Looking in at the window, they
saw the Loon playing the fiddle and all the dancers enjoying
themselves, so they returned to their bed and placed two logs under the
blankets to deceive their kind friend, the “Hell-diver,” into thinking
that they were still where he had left them.
While the two girls were dancing, the “Hell-diver” returned and lay
down under the blankets, but the logs happened to be partly rotten and
were filled with ants, so that it wasn’t long before he discovered the
trick that had been played on him. At once he went to the Loon’s house,
thinking that the girls had been to the dance. All was dark in the
house, as the dancers had left, but he could see that the two girls and
the Loon were lying there asleep. The Loon was snoring with his mouth
wide open. The “Hell-diver” was seized with anger and went swiftly back
to his wigwam, where he heated a piece of iron until it was red hot. He
hastened with this to the Loon’s house and crammed it down the
sleeper’s mouth.
Knowing that he had killed the Loon and that the murder would soon be
discovered on the next day, he made ready to go on a hunting trip and
told his old grandmother that he’d be back on the following evening.
When the murdered Loon was discovered, his murderer was far away in the
bush and had already caught one deer in his trap. He filled a portion
of its entrails with blood and hung it around his neck, then started
for home. As his canoe neared the village in the evening, all the
people ran down to the water’s edge and cried, “Our chief is dead!” The
“Hell-diver” pulled his knife and cut the bladder of blood which hung
about his neck, upsetting the canoe at the same time. The people
lamented, saying, “We shouldn’t have told the ‘Hell-diver,’ for he has
killed himself from grief.”
But far out in the middle of the lake the “Hell-diver” came swimming to
the surface and called aloud. “It was I who killed our king, the Loon.”
Revenge took hold of all the people and they at once gave chase, but
were unable to catch the murderer, and, as darkness was upon them, they
said, “We will build a dam and in the morning, when the lake is dry, we
will catch him.” In the morning the lake was dry and all the villagers
went in pursuit. The chase was a long one and the ‘Hell-diver’ was in
the last stages of fatigue when he ran to the dam and quickly kicked it
down. The waters came running in and all the people were turned into
water animals, but became friends with one another.
PHONETIC KEY.
a, as in father, of medium length; a·, lengthened.
e, open; ɛ·, long as in North German Bär.
e·, longer than e and close in quality.
i and i·, short and long close vowels.
o, close and of medium length.
ɔ·, longer than o and with lips more protruded, almost like au of
English taut.
α, dulled form of short a, like u of English but.
ə, short obscure vowel of uncertain quality.
b–p, bilabial stops varying between true sonant and intermediate
surd-sonant.
d–t, alveolar stops varying between true sonant and intermediate
surd-sonant.
g–k, medial palatal stops varying between true sonant and intermediate
surd-sonant.
s and z, surd and sonant dorsal sibilant pronounced with tip of tongue
deflected to lower alveolar (applies only to Timiskaming Algonquin; in
Timagami Ojibwa s and z are normal).
c and j, surd and sonant sibilant corresponding respectively to English
sh and z of azure.
tc and dj, surd and sonant sibilant affricative corresponding
respectively to English ch and j.
x, voiceless palatal spirant like ch of German Bach.
m, as in English.
n, as in English.
ŋ, palatal nasal like ng of English sing.
w, as in English.
y, as in English.
h, as in English.
˛, nasalized vowel.
ʻ, aspiration following vowel or consonant.
·, denotes that preceding vowel or consonant is long.
′, main stress.
‵, secondary stress.
NOTES
[1] This band is known locally as Ki·we·′gomani‵cəna‵bi “Turn back lake
Indians.” Their rendezvous was at Fort William. Their range extended
around Lake Dumoine and down Dumoine river to the Ottawa river.
[2] Cf. A. B. Skinner, Notes on the Eastern Cree and Northern
Saulteaux, Anth. Papers of Amer. Mus. of Nat. Hist., N.Y., vol. IX, pt.
i, 1911.
[3] Ciŋgəbis is the grebe, a well known character in Ojibwa mythology,
sharing the trickster exploits of Wiske·djak. He appears again as the
quasi-hero of a subsequent story in this cycle.
[4] Formal way of ending a narration; the narrator is assumed to have
been a spectator. The informant temporarily discontinued his story
here.
[5] Ejus.
[6] Ejus.
[7] The Indians often use the red willow bark to mix with tobacco. It
is called məskwa′bi·‵mij “red willow tree.” The yellow spots seen on
the red of the bark are where Wiske·djak, in walking over them, got
them between his legs and left yellow matter in the blood from the
scabs. The “rock weed,” wa′kwund (rock tripe) is often eaten in the
bush when other foods fail. It is scraped off the rocks with a flat
stick into a blanket, then washed and boiled and eaten. The water
becomes a little slimy, but it makes a nourishing soup.
[8] Pαgwa′k·wut pugəma′gan “arrow-head hammer,” an old style of war
club with a stone set in a big wooden head attached to a handle and
swung by a thong from the warrior’s elbow to leave his hand free.
[9] It is a most remarkable thing that practically the same legend is
found among all the northern and eastern Algonkians: Cree, Montagnais,
Abenaki, Penobscot, Malecite.
[10] This is the version of the Kingfisher clan of the Timagami band.
[11] This refers to the old custom of seclusion during puberty.
[12] By doing so she became pregnant. Magical conception occurs in the
culture-hero story of the Algonkian, Iroquoian, and Yuchi tribes.
[13] An episode strikingly similar to one found among the Penobscot and
other Eastern Algonkians.
[14] Fire drill.
[15] Onomapoetic term in diminutive.
[16] Rock-tripe, an edible fungus made into soup and eaten in time of
famine. Nenebuc had this experience on a ledge near the eastern shore
of Smoothwater lake (see map).
[17] This big snake became a high rocky ridge on the portage south of
Smoothwater lake (see map above referred to).
[18] The lake is Smoothwater lake, Cųcawa′gami “smooth lake” (see map
above referred to). This is the scene of the world transformation.
[19] The cave is in a high bluff on the west shore of Smoothwater lake.
On the eastern shore is where Nenebuc fell down the rocks and made
wa′kwan.
[20] The medicine people always do that now.
[21] Abi·ndəsa′gan “something to sit or lie on the water with.” The
event occurred near the previously mentioned cave.
[22] This is called Koko‵kowikwe·‵tuɔk “Owl bay,” now known as Kokoko
bay, the northeastern arm of Lake Timagami (see map). The event
occurred on the western shore of the bay.
[23] This fragment has probably come from some neighbouring band of
Ojibwa, possibly Mattagami.
[24] This is a fragment of the culture-hero cycle of the Mattagami band
of Ojibwa, which has become known among the Timagami people, but does
not form a part of their own version.
[25] Every wigwam has horizontal poles crossing near the smoke hole.
This is a drying rack and support for the pot hook.
[26] The Ojibwa formerly cooked in stone vessels as well as in birch
bark.
[27] A very scarce animal in northern Ontario.
[28] The Indians often had much trouble to get food in the winter and
looked forward eagerly to spring, when the ice leaves the rivers,
making “open water,” thus enabling them to seek new hunting places.
[29] An opening in the ice near the camp for the supply of water in
winter.
[30] An affair resembling a megaphone or moose call.
[31] By doing this he would prevent them from travelling and cause them
to freeze or starve to death.
[32] Magic.
[33] The hole is a circle composed of seven stars (Pleiades). This was
the first mite′win or “conjuring” lodge. Seven poles are necessary to
build this lodge. Unless seven are used, the conjurer’s tent will not
rock. The old woman tends the mite′win. When she moves from the hole,
there is sure to be mite′win somewhere here below. The stars form the
rim of the hole through which she lowered the two girls.
[34] Etiam hodie castor saepe pedit.
[35] Kcki·′man, a magic fetish which will secure the owner his wish.
[36] Also called Mici·′ci·ga‵k “Monster Skunk”.
[37] In winter-time, the Indians keep a hole chopped through the ice
near their camp for the water supply.
[38] If he had obeyed her and not looked until the third day, she would
still have been there.
[39] It is the custom for a hunter returning to hand his game bag to
his wife before he enters the wigwam, without speaking, so that she can
see for herself whether he has had good luck or not.
[40] The constellation Ursa Major is called wətci·′gan·αŋg “Fishing
Star.” The story accounts for this constellation name.
[41] This is the bend in the handle of the Great Dipper. The small star
Alcor in this constellation is the wound.
[42] Night lines are set for lake fish. The hook of bone formerly was
fastened into a shank of wood and this tied to a line by a leather
leader which the teeth of the fish could not sever. Then the line was
fastened to another line adjoining the two float sticks by a knot and
wrapping, which would pay out after a little jerk. The float sticks
were anchored by a stone. The bait was tied to the hook, which later
was kept horizontal by a line running from the leader to a pin stuck in
the bait. This ingenious device is shown in Figure 1. As the story
mentions, when the float sticks are together it is a sign that a fish
is on the hook.
[43] Archaic form.
[44] To drive beaver is to hunt them by driving them from their cabins
beneath the ice.
[45] At this time Lynx testes habuit just like those of animals, but
now they are like those of the cat, invisible.
[46] Conjurer’s magic.
[47] They used to suspend the beaver by a swinging string and roast
him, saving all the bones from the dogs in order to throw them into the
lake, as they thought that there would be just as many beavers there
again in the autumn as the number of bones thrown in. This story
explains the ceremonial treatment of beaver remains.
[48] This intestine sausage is a great delicacy among the Indians.
[49] One of the ranks of shamans.
[50] Mi·te‵ʻkwe, “medicine woman”.
[51] A cannibal monster.
[52] Gitcikwe′we intended to assume this guise.
[53] Seven poles are always required for this kind of a wigwam. See
story of Ciŋgibis.
[54] The usual procedure of the conjurer.
[55] This is related as a true story. One of Gitcikwe′we’s daughters is
still living in the Timagami band; she is known as Pi·dje′ʻkwe.
[56] Quoted verbatim from Chief Aleck Paul.
[57] Thongs of rawhide.
[58] Mr. Fergusson writes: “Another Indian told me some stories that he
had heard from his grandmother, who could speak the Ojibwa tongue. I
will write out the one that I thought most interesting.” The story
given by Mr. Fergusson is evidently a close variant of the second part
of No. 5 of Dr. Speck’s Timagami series.
E. Sapir.
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