Post by Okwes on Jan 13, 2008 17:50:59 GMT -5
Fish-Hawk and Scapegrace [1] - Micmac
Two men met and talked: one was Fish-Hawk, the other was Scapegrace. Now the
Fish-Hawk can fly higher than any other ocean bird, and he is proud and
particular as to his food; he is only beaten by the eagle. When he dives and
takes a fish the eagle pursues him; he lets it drop; the great sagamore of
the, birds catches it; but to less than the chief he yields nothing. But the
Scapegrace will eat anything; he is heavy in flying; he is slow and of low
degree.
So when the Scapegrace proposed to the Fish-Hawk that they should become
partners the proud bird was angry in his heart, but said nothing, as he was
crafty, and as it occurred to him that he could punish the other; and this
he was the more willing to do because the Scapegrace actually proposed to
fly a race with him! So he said, "Let us go together to a certain Indian
village." And they went off together.
The Fish-Hawk arrived there far before the other. And on arriving he said,
"Beware of him who will come after me. You will know him by these signs: he
is ugly and heavy; he will bring with him his own food. It is coarse and
common; in fact it is poison. He wishes to kill you; he will offer it. Do
not eat of it, or you will die."
Then having been very well entertained himself, he took his departure.
Scapegrace soon appeared, but was treated with great reserve. He offered his
food, and the people pretended to eat it, but took good care to quietly
throw it away. Then he told the chief that he was seeking a wife, and asked
if there were girls to marry in the town. To which the chief replied, "Yes,
there is a mother with several daughters, of the Amalchooywech' or Raccoon
tribe."
He went to see the girls. A bad name had gone before him. One of them stood
before the lodge. She saw him, and cried, "Mahgwis wechooveet!" "Scapegrace
is coming!" They received him as if he had been Sickness. He was welcomed
like filth on fine clothes. They cried out, "Ulummeye!" "Go home!" He asked
the mother if she had daughters. She answered, "Yes." He asked her if she
would give him one. She replied, "I will not." So he went his way.
Now when he had gone Fish-Hawk came again, and asked if Scapegrace had been
there. He inquired if all had passed as he predicted. They said it had. Then
it occurred to him to pass himself off for a great prophet, a wise magician,
well knowing that he could make much of it. So he said, "It is well.
Remember that you would have all died but for my foresight. That wizard
would have poisoned you all. But have no fear. In future I will watch over
you."
Then he said to a man of the people that if at any time he should see a
large bird flying over the village it would be an omen of great coming
danger. "Then,"he said, "think of me; call on me, and I will come." So he
departed.The man thought it all over for a long time. He was shrewd and
wise. "He foretold the coming of Scapegrace," he reflected. "Now he pretends
to be a very great sorcerer. We shall see!"
Sure enough, in a few days he saw a bird flying on high. "That," said he,
"must be the Wis-kuma-gwasoo." He called him, and he came. "You spoke," he
said, "of danger to our town. What is it?"
"There is great danger. In a few days your town will be attacked by a
Kookwes.[2] Unless you save yourselves you will all be devoured."
"What shall we do to be saved?" asked the man. "When will he come?"
"In seven days," replied the Fish-Hawk. "Before that time you must take to
your canoes and flee afar. You may get beyond his reach, but you cannot
before that time get beyond the horrible roar of his voice. And all who hear
it will drop dead."
"How can we escape this second danger?" asked the man.
"You must all close your ears, so that you can hear nothing. When the time
is over you may return."
The man's name was Oscoon.[3] He led the people away. He closed their ears;
he did not close his own. Once he heard a far-away whoop. It was not very
terrible. But he said nothing. After a time the scouts who were sent out
returned. They reported that the Kookwes had departed. They had not even
seen him. It was a great escape.
The people thought much of Oscoon. They made him their chief. In a few days
the Fish-Hawk returned. He spoke to Oscoon: "Did the giant come?" "He did."
"You escaped?" "By following your advice, we did." "And in which direction
did he go?"[4] "Surely you, who know so much about him, must know that
better than we do." Then the Fish-Hawk saw that he was found out. He flew
away, and never returned to the town to play the prophet.
He who would cheat must watch his words well.
As in the preceding tradition, there has been tacked to this a fragment of a
very poor French tale about a king, a great city, a royal carriage, and the
forest of wild beasts, borrowed from so many old European romances. But what
is here given is apparently really Indian, and it shows with spirit and
humor how men tricked one another, and rose in life by trickery, in the days
of old.
There are naturally contradictory opinions on such a subject as to what
constitutes the morality of magic. The old Shaman or Manitou regarded
witchcraft as wicked. The Roman Catholic has taught the Indian that all
sorceries and spells except his own are of the devil. Hence it came that I
got from two Passamaquoddy Indians, next-door neighbors, the following
opinions:--
Tomah.--"There was once a man who hated another. So he prayed until he
became a snake," etc.
Another Indian.--"If a man wanted to be m'téoulin he must go without food,
or sleep, or saying his prayers, for seven days. Yes, that certainly. He
must go far into the woods. He must go again when his power was used up."
The faith in and fondness for magic were so great among the Algonquins that
there is not one even of their most serious histories into which it has not
been introduced. The Passamaquoddies will narrate an incident of their wars
with the Mohawks. The first time it will all be probable enough; but hear it
again, when the story-teller has become more trustful, and some of the
actors in it or the scene will be sure to end like a Christmas pantomime in
fairy-land. With them m'téoulin covered everything; it entered into every
detail of life. I do not think that it was so deeply felt even by the
ancient Babylonians or the modern Arabs and Hindoos as by our red men. It is
no wonder they prefer the Catholic religion to the Protestant.
There is a Micmac legend which is so magical and mystical, so inspired with
Eskimo Shamanism, that it would not be remarkable if it had been originally
a sacred song.
Footnotes:
[1] Wiskumagwasoo and Mahgwis. The Mahgwis, or "Scapegrace," is a kind of
sea-gull.
[2] In Passamaquoddy Kewahqu', a cannibal giant, who is also a sorcerer.
[3] Oscoon (M.): the Liver.
[4] Here the Fish-Hawk inadvertently betrays himself. In the Edda, Loki
changes himself into a falcon and flies to Jotunheim. to make mischief, as
usual. Odin also changes himself to a hawk or eagle when he is chased by the
giant Suttung. There is a strong Norse color to all this tale. The Fish-Hawk
is very Loki-like and tricky.
Algonquin Legends of New England, or Myths and Folk Lore of the Micmac,
Passamaquoddy, and Penobscot Tribes; by Charles G. Leland; Boston and New
York; Houghton, Mifflin and Company, [1884] and is now in the public domain.
Two men met and talked: one was Fish-Hawk, the other was Scapegrace. Now the
Fish-Hawk can fly higher than any other ocean bird, and he is proud and
particular as to his food; he is only beaten by the eagle. When he dives and
takes a fish the eagle pursues him; he lets it drop; the great sagamore of
the, birds catches it; but to less than the chief he yields nothing. But the
Scapegrace will eat anything; he is heavy in flying; he is slow and of low
degree.
So when the Scapegrace proposed to the Fish-Hawk that they should become
partners the proud bird was angry in his heart, but said nothing, as he was
crafty, and as it occurred to him that he could punish the other; and this
he was the more willing to do because the Scapegrace actually proposed to
fly a race with him! So he said, "Let us go together to a certain Indian
village." And they went off together.
The Fish-Hawk arrived there far before the other. And on arriving he said,
"Beware of him who will come after me. You will know him by these signs: he
is ugly and heavy; he will bring with him his own food. It is coarse and
common; in fact it is poison. He wishes to kill you; he will offer it. Do
not eat of it, or you will die."
Then having been very well entertained himself, he took his departure.
Scapegrace soon appeared, but was treated with great reserve. He offered his
food, and the people pretended to eat it, but took good care to quietly
throw it away. Then he told the chief that he was seeking a wife, and asked
if there were girls to marry in the town. To which the chief replied, "Yes,
there is a mother with several daughters, of the Amalchooywech' or Raccoon
tribe."
He went to see the girls. A bad name had gone before him. One of them stood
before the lodge. She saw him, and cried, "Mahgwis wechooveet!" "Scapegrace
is coming!" They received him as if he had been Sickness. He was welcomed
like filth on fine clothes. They cried out, "Ulummeye!" "Go home!" He asked
the mother if she had daughters. She answered, "Yes." He asked her if she
would give him one. She replied, "I will not." So he went his way.
Now when he had gone Fish-Hawk came again, and asked if Scapegrace had been
there. He inquired if all had passed as he predicted. They said it had. Then
it occurred to him to pass himself off for a great prophet, a wise magician,
well knowing that he could make much of it. So he said, "It is well.
Remember that you would have all died but for my foresight. That wizard
would have poisoned you all. But have no fear. In future I will watch over
you."
Then he said to a man of the people that if at any time he should see a
large bird flying over the village it would be an omen of great coming
danger. "Then,"he said, "think of me; call on me, and I will come." So he
departed.The man thought it all over for a long time. He was shrewd and
wise. "He foretold the coming of Scapegrace," he reflected. "Now he pretends
to be a very great sorcerer. We shall see!"
Sure enough, in a few days he saw a bird flying on high. "That," said he,
"must be the Wis-kuma-gwasoo." He called him, and he came. "You spoke," he
said, "of danger to our town. What is it?"
"There is great danger. In a few days your town will be attacked by a
Kookwes.[2] Unless you save yourselves you will all be devoured."
"What shall we do to be saved?" asked the man. "When will he come?"
"In seven days," replied the Fish-Hawk. "Before that time you must take to
your canoes and flee afar. You may get beyond his reach, but you cannot
before that time get beyond the horrible roar of his voice. And all who hear
it will drop dead."
"How can we escape this second danger?" asked the man.
"You must all close your ears, so that you can hear nothing. When the time
is over you may return."
The man's name was Oscoon.[3] He led the people away. He closed their ears;
he did not close his own. Once he heard a far-away whoop. It was not very
terrible. But he said nothing. After a time the scouts who were sent out
returned. They reported that the Kookwes had departed. They had not even
seen him. It was a great escape.
The people thought much of Oscoon. They made him their chief. In a few days
the Fish-Hawk returned. He spoke to Oscoon: "Did the giant come?" "He did."
"You escaped?" "By following your advice, we did." "And in which direction
did he go?"[4] "Surely you, who know so much about him, must know that
better than we do." Then the Fish-Hawk saw that he was found out. He flew
away, and never returned to the town to play the prophet.
He who would cheat must watch his words well.
As in the preceding tradition, there has been tacked to this a fragment of a
very poor French tale about a king, a great city, a royal carriage, and the
forest of wild beasts, borrowed from so many old European romances. But what
is here given is apparently really Indian, and it shows with spirit and
humor how men tricked one another, and rose in life by trickery, in the days
of old.
There are naturally contradictory opinions on such a subject as to what
constitutes the morality of magic. The old Shaman or Manitou regarded
witchcraft as wicked. The Roman Catholic has taught the Indian that all
sorceries and spells except his own are of the devil. Hence it came that I
got from two Passamaquoddy Indians, next-door neighbors, the following
opinions:--
Tomah.--"There was once a man who hated another. So he prayed until he
became a snake," etc.
Another Indian.--"If a man wanted to be m'téoulin he must go without food,
or sleep, or saying his prayers, for seven days. Yes, that certainly. He
must go far into the woods. He must go again when his power was used up."
The faith in and fondness for magic were so great among the Algonquins that
there is not one even of their most serious histories into which it has not
been introduced. The Passamaquoddies will narrate an incident of their wars
with the Mohawks. The first time it will all be probable enough; but hear it
again, when the story-teller has become more trustful, and some of the
actors in it or the scene will be sure to end like a Christmas pantomime in
fairy-land. With them m'téoulin covered everything; it entered into every
detail of life. I do not think that it was so deeply felt even by the
ancient Babylonians or the modern Arabs and Hindoos as by our red men. It is
no wonder they prefer the Catholic religion to the Protestant.
There is a Micmac legend which is so magical and mystical, so inspired with
Eskimo Shamanism, that it would not be remarkable if it had been originally
a sacred song.
Footnotes:
[1] Wiskumagwasoo and Mahgwis. The Mahgwis, or "Scapegrace," is a kind of
sea-gull.
[2] In Passamaquoddy Kewahqu', a cannibal giant, who is also a sorcerer.
[3] Oscoon (M.): the Liver.
[4] Here the Fish-Hawk inadvertently betrays himself. In the Edda, Loki
changes himself into a falcon and flies to Jotunheim. to make mischief, as
usual. Odin also changes himself to a hawk or eagle when he is chased by the
giant Suttung. There is a strong Norse color to all this tale. The Fish-Hawk
is very Loki-like and tricky.
Algonquin Legends of New England, or Myths and Folk Lore of the Micmac,
Passamaquoddy, and Penobscot Tribes; by Charles G. Leland; Boston and New
York; Houghton, Mifflin and Company, [1884] and is now in the public domain.