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Read Ebook: Angel: A sketch in Indian ink by Croker B M Bithia Mary

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Ebook has 1945 lines and 93903 words, and 39 pages

He could not get to his home because the bird Wochowsen blew so hard that he could make no progress against it. As the Thunder-Bird is an Indian, the lightning from him never strikes one of his kind.

This is the same bird one of whose wings Glooscap once cut when it had used too much force. There was for a long time, the story goes, no moving air, so that the sea became full of slime, and all the fish died. But Glooscap is said to have repaired the wing of Wochowsen, so that we now have wind alternating with calm.

BLACK CAT AND THE SABLE.

The translation of the following tale of Pogump, or Black Cat and the Sable, was given me by Mrs. W. Wallace Brown. The original was told into the phonograph in Passamaquoddy by Peter Selmore, in the presence of Noel Josephs. A bark picture of Pookjinsquess leaving the island, representing the gulls, and Black Cat on the back of the Snail, was made by Josephs. A copy of this picture is given at the end of this paper.

Mrs. Brown tells me there is a story which accounts for the hump on the back of Pookjinsquess, as follows: While leaning against a tree, some one cut off the tree above and below her shoulders, and she consequently carries the hump on her back.

Cooloo, the great bird that overspreads all with his wings, was a chief. His wife was named Pookjinsquess. The Sable and the Black Cat went in a stone canoe to a place where they make maple sugar. In this journey they were lost, and separated from each other. Sable in his wanderings came to a peculiarly shaped wigwam. He went in and found within a large Snake. The Snake said he was glad the Sable had come, as he was very hungry. The Snake told him to go into the woods and get a straight stick, so that when he pierced him he would not tear open his entrails. Sable then went out and sang in a loud voice a song which he hoped his brother the Black Cat would hear and come to his aid. The Black Cat heard him and came to him. Then the Sable told the Black Cat the trouble he was in, and how the Snake was going to kill him. The Black Cat told Sable not to be afraid, but that he would kill the big Snake. He told him that he would lie down behind the trunk of a hemlock tree which had fallen, and that Sable should search out a stick that was very crooked, obeying the commands of the big Snake. When he had found a stick, he should carry it to the Snake, who would complain that the stick was not straight enough. The Black Cat instructed Sable to reply that he would straighten it in the fire, holding it there until the steam came out of the end. While the Snake was watching the process of straightening the stick and the exit of the steam, Black Cat told Sable that he should strike the Snake over the head. The Sable sought out the most crooked stick he could find, and then returned to the wigwam where the Snake was. The Snake said the stick was too crooked. The Sable replied, "I can straighten it," and held it in the fire. When it was hot he struck the Snake on the head and blinded him. The Snake then followed the Sable, and, as he passed over the hemlock trunk, Black Cat killed him, and they cut him in small fragments. Black Cat and Sable called all the animals and birds to the feast; the caribous, wild horses, and swift animals and birds were first to arrive at the feast. The Turtle was the last, and got only the blood. Then the Black Cat and Sable returned home to Cooloo, whose wife was Pookjinsquess. She thought she would like to have for her husband Black Cat if she could get rid of Cooloo. But Black Cat offended Pookjinsquess and made her angry. To make way with him she invited him to go with her for gulls' eggs. She took him across the water in a canoe to an island which was very distant. There they filled baskets with eggs and started home in the canoe. A large, very beautiful bird flew over them. They both shot their arrows at it. The bird fell, and Black Cat jumped into the water to get what they had shot. When he got to where the bird fell he could not find it. Pookjinsquess went off, singing as she went the following song, which has been written out from the phonographic record by Mr. Cheney, and left Black Cat on the island.

I think there are internal evidences of the antiquity of this song, although the English sentence, "Wait for me," shows the modern character of certain of the words. This sentence seems to supply the place of unknown Indian words. Several Indians assured me that the song was old. According to Leland, Pookjinsquess sang the following words when she left Black Cat:--

Niked ha Pogump min nekuk Netsnil sagamawin!

Which he translates,--

I have left the Black Cat on an island; I shall be the chief of the Fishers now.

The best I can make out of the phonographic record given me by Peter Selmore of the words which she sang is,--

> > > > Er tin le ber nits nah o o o o. Wait for me. Nick ne ar ber yer hay ey.

The second line sounds like the English "Wait for me," but is not distinct. The end of the first line is violently explosive. The third line ends in a word expressive of strong feeling, possibly revenge.

In a version of this story by Leland, Pookjinsquess leaves Black Cat on the island, and paddles away, singing songs. In his story, Black Cat was carried off from the island by the Fox, who swam out to get him.

Black Cat called to the gulls to defile Pookjinsquess with their dung. They flew over her, and as she looked up they covered her face with bird-lime. They then burst out in a laugh, which they still have, when they saw how changed her face was.

Black Cat wandered about the island, until at last he found a wigwam of the grandfather, the "Morning Star," who told him he was on a very dangerous island. He told him it was the habit of the Great Beaver to destroy every one who came to the island.

He told the Black Cat to climb a tree, and when he needed help to call out for him. Night coming on, water began to rise about the base of the tree, and the Giant Beaver came and began to gnaw at its base. The friendly ants tried to keep the tree upright, but the water continued to rise and the Beaver kept on gnawing. Then the Black Cat in his sore dilemma called out, "Grandpa, come!" The grandfather responded, "I am coming; wait till I get my moccasins." The water rose higher. Again Black Cat called out, "Come, grandpa, come!" "I am coming," his grandfather said; "wait till I get my cap." Again Black Cat called, "Hurry, grandpa!" "Wait until I get my pipe," said the grandparent. But the waters had reached him. The tree swayed to and fro. "Come, grandpa, come!" said Black Cat for the last time. Then he said, "I am coming; wait till I open my door;" and then he opened the door of his wigwam and the Morning Star came forth, the water began to recede, and the Beaver swam away. Then Black Cat's grandfather told him to come down, and he would send him over the water to the other shore on the back of the Wewillemuck. Black Cat thought that Wewillemuck was too small to carry him over, but his grandfather told him to seat himself between his horns, and when he wished Wewillemuck to go faster he should tap him on the horns. The grandfather then gave his grandson a small bow and arrows, and put him on the snail's back between his horns.

As they were crossing the channel, Wewillemuck said to the Black Cat, "When we get near shore tell me." But Black Cat gave Wewillemuck a sharp rap on the horns, and the snail jumped forward and went so far that both went a far distance inland. Wewillemuck said, "Why did you not tell me we were near the land? Now I cannot get back to the water again." But Black Cat took his small bow and arrows, and with them carried Wewillemuck back to the water. So pleased was he that he said, "Scrape from my horns some fine dust, and, whatever you wish, put this powder upon it and it is yours." So Black Cat scraped off some powder from the horns of Wewillemuck.

The Raven was told to build a wigwam for Cooloo, who was chief. Pogump went to see the chief, and killed him with the powder. Black Cat went to see Pookjinsquess; he scattered a ring of powder around her wigwam, and then set it on fire. It blazed up and ignited the wigwam, burning up the old woman Pookjinsquess; whose ashes, blown about by the winds, made the mosquitoes.

Leland, in his version of this story, represents the Black Cat as identical with Glooscap, and the Sable as a boy who had a flute by which he could entice to himself all the animals. The story of the sticks is similar, but the cutting up of the serpent is not mentioned. He says that Black Cat, who is preparing his arrows, and will return and destroy all, is Glooscap, who in another story kills the Snake, cuts him in fragments, and invites all the animals to eat him. The Turtle, the grandfather , arrives last, and only gets the blood for his share.

A story of the old time. In winter, while travelling, Leux met a number of wolves, which were going in the same direction that he was. At nightfall the old wolf built a fire and gave Leux supper. He gave him skins to cover himself while he slept, but Leux said that the fire was so warm that he did not need or wish a covering. At midnight Leux awoke and was almost frozen with cold. The next morning Leux was obliged to part with the wolves.

The old wolf said, "How far are you going?" Leux answered, "Three days' journey." The wolf said then, "I will do for you the very best thing I can. I will give you three fires, one for each night." The wolf told him to gather some dry wood, put it in a pile, jump over it, and it would burn.

Leux parted from the wolf, and as soon as he was out of sight he thought he would try to make a fire as directed by the wolf, remarking that he did not think it would burn. So he gathered some dry wood, made a little pile, and jumped over , Lena?"

"In the cemetery, perhaps," she suggested gravely.

"Come, come, old woman--none of your ghastly jokes. Hullo, Beany boy; well, my Pinkums. Ayah," in a sharper key, "what do you mean by letting Master Beany wear his best shoes?"

"They are all he has got, sahib--others done fall to pieces," she answered sullenly.

ANGEL IN EXCELSIS

PUNCTUAL to the moment, Philip Gascoigne arrived to take his little cousin for the promised drive, and Angel's eyes shone like stars when she descried his smart dogcart spinning up the approach. Sally Lunn, or "Mad" Sally, a good-looking bay, stud-bred, in hard condition, enjoyed the reputation of being the fastest trotter, as well as the most hot-tempered and eccentric animal, in the station; only those blessed with a cool head and no nerves were competent to manage her. Here she came, pulling double, and tossing flecks of foam over her bright brass harness.

Mrs. Wilkinson felt a secret thrill of thankfulness that it was not about to be her lot to sit behind this excitable creature, the author of a lengthy chapter of accidents. However, Mrs. Wilkinson's little daughter did not share these fears. She had been dressed and ready for an hour, and now ran quickly down the steps, in a clear starched frock, her hat restored, her hair elaborately crimped, climbed into the cart with the agility of a monkey, and took her place with the dignity of a queen. It is true that her shapely little black legs dangled in a somewhat undignified fashion. Nevertheless she declined a footstool with a gesture of contempt--nor was Sally disposed to linger. In another moment the dogcart swung out of the gate, and was humming down the road at the rate of eleven miles an hour. Angel, very upright, with her hair streaming behind her, elation in her pose; Gascoigne sitting square and steady, giving his full attention to his impetuous trapper.

"Thank goodness, Philip is a first-rate whip," exclaimed Mrs. Wilkinson, as she turned her eyes from this fleeting vision and rested them on her husband, "otherwise I would never trust the child with that animal."

"Well?" impatiently. "What?"

"He thinks she looks so white and thin, and he has offered to send her up to the hills for three months--at his own expense. What do you say?"

"What do I say?" he repeated, emerging with considerable crackling from behind his screen. "I say no, and I call the offer confounded cheek on the part of Gascoigne. What is good enough for my own children is good enough for her. They are not going to budge this season."

"But the boys are so much younger, Richard, dear," ventured his wife.

"Well, I won't have Gascoigne interfering with a member of my family, cousin or no cousin. Some day he will find out what a little devil she is, for all her angel name and angel face," and with this depressing prophecy Colonel Wilkinson retired once more behind his "Pioneer."

Meanwhile the "little devil" was in the seventh heaven, as she and her Jehu bowled along the straight flat road, overtaking and passing every other vehicle--a triumph dear to Angel.

"Look here, young 'un, where would you like me to drive you--you shall choose the route," said Gascoigne suddenly.

"Right in front of the club, then past the railway station and through the bazaar," was her prompt and unexpected answer.

"Good Lord, what a choice! And why?"

"No great sight; but, all the same, you shall have your way--you don't often get it, do you?"

Angel made no reply beyond a queer little laugh, and they sped through the cantonments, meeting the remnant who were left taking their dutiful airing. These did not fail to notice the "Wilkinson's Angel," as she was called, seated aloft beside Captain Gascoigne, pride in her port, her little sharp face irradiated with the serene smile of absolute content. The two Miss Brewers, in their rickety pony carriage, envied the child fully as much as she could have desired. Mrs. Dawson stared, bowed, and looked back; so did some men on their way to rackets.

"Well, Gascoigne was a good sort, and it was just the kind of thing he would do--give up his game to take a kid for a spin into the country. Why, he was making straight for the bazaar." The bazaar was narrow and thronged with ekkas, camels, bullock carts, and cattle, as well as crammed with human beings. As Gascoigne steered carefully in and out of the crowd, a bright idea flashed upon him. There was Narwainjees, a large general shop which sold everything from Paris hats to pills and night lights. He pulled up sharply at the entrance and said, "I say, Angel, I want you to come in here and choose yourself a hat."

"A hat," she echoed. "Oh, Philip, I--I--shall be too happy."

"All right, then," lifting her down as he spoke; "you can try what it feels like to be too happy. I can't say I know the sensation myself."

As the oddly-matched couple now entered the shop hand in hand, the smart, soldierly young man and the shabby little girl, an obsequious attendant emerged from some dark lair. At this time of year business was slack, and the atmosphere of the ill-ventilated premises was reeking with oil, turmeric, and newly-roasted coffee.

"I want to look at some trimmed hats for this young lady," explained her cavalier.

"Oh, Phil," she whispered, squeezing his hand tightly in her tiny grasp, "it's the very first time I've been called a young lady."

"And won't be the last, we will hope," he answered.

"Have some iced lemonade, sir?" said a stout man in a gold skull-cap and thin white muslin draperies.

"No, thank you--but you, Angel--will you have some?" asked her cousin.

"I should love it," and she put her lips greedily to a brimming tumbler of her favourite beverage. Undoubtedly Angel was tasting every description of pleasure to-day.

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