Glooscap and His People
from Glooscap and His Magic: Legends of the Wabanaki Indians by Kay
Hill
Glooscap is the great culture hero of the Wabanaki (or Abnaki) Indians
of Eastern Canada and the northeastern United States. Here is one of
many legends about this super being.
In the Old Time, long before the White Man came, the Indians believed
that every rock and river, every tree and bird and animal, possessed a
spirit—and some spirits were good and some were evil. Around these
spirits, which they pictured as giants and wizards and magical animals,
the Indians invented marvelous stories called “atookwakuns,” or wonder
tales. They tell these stories to amuse the children, even to this day,
and the stories the children love best are the stories of Glooscap and
his People.
In the beginning, the Indians tell the children, there was just the
forest and the sea—no people and no animals. Then Glooscap came. Where
this wondrous giant was born and when, they cannot tell, but he came
from somewhere in the Sky with Malsum his twin brother to the part of
North America nearest the rising sun. There, anchoring his canoe, he
turned it into a granite island covered with spruce and pine. He called
the island Uktamkoo, the land we know today as Newfoundland. This, in
the beginning, was Glooscap’s lodge.
The Great Chief looked and lived like an ordinary Indian except that he
was twice as tall and twice as strong, and possessed great magic. He was
never sick, never married, never grew old, and never died. He had a
magic belt which gave him great power, and he used this power only for
good. Malsum, his brother, also
great of stature, had the head of a wolf and the body of an Indian. He
knew magic too, but he used his power for evil.
It was the warm time when Glooscap came. As he set about his work, the
air was fragrant with balsam and the tang of the sea. First, out of the
rocks, he made the Little People—the fairies, or Megumoowesoos, small
hairy creatures who dwelt among the rocks and made wonderful music on
the flute, such music that all who heard it were bewitched. From amongst
them, Glooscap chose a servant, Marten, who was like a younger brother
to him.
Next Glooscap made men. Taking up his great bow, he shot arrows into the
trunks of ash trees. Out of the trees stepped men and women. They were a
strong and graceful people with light brown skins and shining black
hair, and Glooscap called them the Wabanaki, which means “those who live
where the day breaks.” In time, the Wabanaki left Uktamkoo and divided
into separate tribes and are today a part of the great Algonquin
nation—but in the old days only the Micmacs, Malicetes, Penobscots and
Passamaquoddies, living in the eastern woodlands of Canada and the
United States, were Glooscap’s People.
Gazing upon his handiwork, Glooscap was pleased and his shout of triumph
made the tall pines bend like grass.
He told the people he was their Great Chief and would rule them with
love and justice. He taught them how to build birchbark wigwams and
canoes, how to make weirs for catching fish, and how to identify plants
useful in medicine. He taught them the names of all the Stars, who were
his brothers.
Then, from among them, he chose an elderly woman whom he called
Noogumee, or grandmother, which is a term of respect amongst Indians for
any elderly female. Noogumee was the Great Chief’s housekeeper all her
days.
Now, finally, out of rocks and clay, Glooscap made the animals—Miko
the Squirrel, Team the Moose, Mooin the Bear, and many, many others.
Malsum looked on enviously, thinking he too should have had a hand in
creation, but he had not been given that power. However, he whispered an
evil charm, and the remainder of the clay in Glooscap’s hands twisted
and fell to the ground in the form of a strange animal—not beaver, not
badger, not wolverine, but something of all three, and capable of taking
any of these forms he chose.
“His name is Lox!” said Malsum triumphantly.
“So be it,” said Glooscap. “Let Lox live amongst us in peace, so long as
he remains a friend.” Yet he resolved to watch Lox closely, for he could
read the heart and knew that Lox had Malsum’s evil in him.
Now Glooscap had made the animals all very large, most of them larger
and stronger than man. Lox, the troublemaker, at once saw his chance to
make mischief.
He went in his wolverine body to Team the Moose and admired his fine
antlers, which reached up to the top of the tallest pine tree. “If you
should ever meet a man,” said Lox, “you could toss him on your horns up
to the top of the world.”
Now Team, who was just a little bit stupid, went at once to Glooscap and
said, “Please, Master, give me a man, so I can toss him on my horns up
to the top of the world!”
“I should say not!” cried Glooscap, touching Team with his hand—and
the moose was suddenly the size he is today.
Then Lox went in his badger form to the squirrel and said, “With that
magnificent tail of yours, Miko, you could smash down every lodge in the
village.”
“So I could,” said Miko proudly, and with his great tail he swept the
nearest wigwam right off the ground. But the Great Chief was near. He
caught Miko up in his hand and stroked the squirrel’s back until he was
as small as he is today.
“From now on,” said his Master, “you will live in trees and keep your
tail where it belongs.” And since that time Miko the Squirrel has
carried his bushy tail on his back.
Next, the rascally Lox put on his beaver shape and went to Mooin the
Bear, who was hardly any bigger than he is today, but had a much larger
throat.
“Mooin,” said Lox slyly, “supposing you met a man, what would you do to
him?” The bear scratched his head thoughtfully. “Eat him,” he said at
last, with a grin. “Yes, that’s what I’d do—I’d swallow him whole!”
And having said this, Mooin felt his throat begin to shrink.
“From now on,” said Glooscap sternly, “you may swallow only very small
creatures.” And today the bear, big as he is, eats only small animals,
fish and wild berries.
Now the Great Chief was greatly annoyed at the way his animals were
behaving, and wondered if he ought to have made them. He summoned them
all and gave them a solemn warning:
“I have made you man’s equal, but you wish to be his master. Take
care—or he may become yours!”
This did not worry the troublemaker Lox, who only resolved to be more
cunning in the future. He knew very well that Malsum was jealous of
Glooscap and wished to be lord of the Indians himself. He also knew that
both brothers had magic powers and that neither could be killed except
in one certain way. What that way was, each kept secret—from all but
the Stars,
whom they trusted. Each sometimes talked in the starlight to the people
of the Sky.
“Little does Malsum know,” said Glooscap to the Stars, “that I can never
be killed except by the blow of a flowering rush.” And not far off,
Malsum boasted to those same Stars—“I am quite safe from Glooscap’s
power. I can do anything I like, for nothing can harm me but the roots
of a flowering fern.”
Now, alas, Lox was hidden close by and overheard both secrets. Seeing
how he might turn this to his own advantage, he went to Malsum and said
with a knowing smile, “What will you give me, Malsum, if I tell you
Glooscap’s secret?”
“Anything you like,” cried Malsum. “Quick—tell me!” “Nothing can hurt
Glooscap save a flowering rush,”
said the traitor. “Now give me a pair of wings, like the pigeon, so I
can fly.”
But Malsum laughed.
“What need has a beaver of wings?” And kicking the
troublemaker aside, he sped to find a flowering rush.
Lox picked himself up furiously and hurried to Glooscap.
“Master!” he cried, “Malsum knows your secret and
is about to kill you. If you would save yourself, know
that only a fern root can destroy him!”
Glooscap snatched up the nearest fern, root and all, just in
time—for his evil brother was upon him, shouting his war cry. And
all the animals, who were
angry at Glooscap for reducing their size and power, cheered Malsum; but
the Indians were afraid for their Master.
Glooscap braced his feet against a cliff, and Malsum paused. For a
moment, the two crouched face to face, waiting for the moment to strike.
Then the wolf-like Malsum lunged at Glooscap’s head. Twisting his body
aside, the Great Chief flung his weapon. It went swift to its target,
and Malsum leapt back—too late. The fern root pierced his envious
heart, and he died.
Now the Indians rejoiced, and the animals crept sullenly away. Only Lox
came to Glooscap, impudently.
“I’ll have my reward now, Master,” he said, “a pair of wings, like the
pigeon’s.”
“Faithless creature!” Glooscap thundered, knowing full well who had
betrayed him, “I made no such bargain. Begone!” And he hurled stone
after stone at the fleeing Lox. Where the stones fell—in Minas
Basin—they turned into islands and are there still.
And the banished Lox roams the world to this day, appealing to the evil
in men’s hearts and making trouble wherever he goes.
Now Glooscap called his people around him and said, “I made the animals
to be man’s friends, but they have acted with selfishness and treachery.
Hereafter, they shall be your servants and provide you with food and
clothing.”
Then he showed the men how to make bows and arrows and stone-tipped
spears, and how to use them. He also showed the women how to scrape
hides and turn them into clothing.
“Now you have power over even the largest wild creatures,” he said. “Yet
I charge you to use this power gently. If you take more game than you
need for food and clothing, or kill for the pleasure of killing, then
you will be visited by a pitiless giant named Famine, and when he comes
among men, they suffer hunger and die.”
The Indians readily promised to obey Glooscap in this, as in all things.
But now, to their dismay, they saw Marten launch the Master’s canoe and
Noogumee entering it with Glooscap’s household goods. Glooscap was
leaving them!
“I must dwell now in a separate place,” said the Great Chief, “so that
you, my people, will learn to stand alone, and become brave and
resourceful. Nevertheless, I shall never be far from you, and whoever
seeks me diligently in time of trouble will find me.”
Then, waving farewell to his sorrowful Wabanaki, Glooscap set off for
the mainland. Rounding the southern tip of what is now Nova Scotia, the
Great Chief paddled up the Bay of Fundy. In the distance, where the Bay
narrows and the great tides of Fundy rush into Minas Basin, Glooscap saw
a long purple headland, like a moose swimming, with clouds for
antlers, and headed his canoe in that direction. Landing, he gazed at
the slope of red sandstone, with its groves of green trees at the
summit, and admired the amethysts encircling its base like a string of
purple beads.
“Here I shall build my lodge,” said Glooscap, and he named the place
Blomidon.
Now Glooscap dwelt on Blomidon a very long time, and during that time
did many wonderful things for his People. Of these things you will hear
in the pages to follow.
But for the present, kespeadooksit, which means “the story ends.”
Glooscap and His Magic by Kay Hill, the book from which this story was
taken, contains many other fine tales about Glooscap. You may also want
to read other Indian legends, such as Skunny Wundy: Seneca Indian
Tales by Arthur C. Parker and Tonweya and the Eagles and. Other Lakota
Indian Tales by Rosebud Yellow Robe.
