Algonquin Legends of New England

by Charles Godfrey Leland

THE PARTRIDGE

The Adventures of the Great Hero Pulowech, or the Partridge.

(Micmac.)

Wee-yig-yik-keseyook. A tale of old times. Two men once lived together in one wigwam in the woods, on the border of a beautiful lake. Many hard-wood trees made their pictures in it. One of these Indians was Pulowech, the Partridge in the Micmac tongue, but who is called by the Passamaquoddy Mitchihess; but the other was Wejek (M.), the Tree Partridge.

Now it befell that one day Pulowech was walking along the shore, when it was winter, and he beheld three girls, fair and fine, with flowing hair, sitting on the ice braiding their locks. Then he knew that they were of the fairy kind, who dwell in the water; and, verily, these were plentier of old than they are now,—to our sorrow be it said, for they were good company for the one who could get them. And Pulowech, knowing this, said, "I will essay this thing, and perchance I may catch one or two of them; which will be a great comfort, for a pretty girl is a nice thing to have about the wigwam." So he sought to secure them by stealing softly along; but one cried, "Ne miha skedap!" "I see a man!" P., and they all went head over heels, first best time, into the water; and verily that was a cold duck for December in the Bay of Fundy.

But though Pulowech had never hunted for sea-girls, yet he had fished for seals, who are greatly akin unto them, being almost as slippery; and wotting well that no man hath the mitten till he is refused thirty times and many more, he went about it in another wise. For this time he gat many fir boughs, strewing them about as if blown by the wind, and hiding himself behind them, again came up and made a sudden dart. Then the maids, crying as before, "Ne miha skedap!" "I see a, man!" went with a dive into the deep. But this time he caught, if not the hair, at least the hair-string, of the fairest, which remained in his hand. And, gazing on this, it came into his mind that he had got that which was her charm, or life, and that she could not live without it, [Footnote: The magic hair-string plays a part in many of these tales. It belongs to the sorcery of all the world in all ages.] or her cherished sakultobee (M.). And taking it home, he tied it to the place in the wigwam above that wherein he slept. Nor had he waited long before she came, and, with little ado, remained with him as his wife.

Now Pulowech, being himself addicted to sorcery, knew that there were divers knaves of the same stamp prowling about the woods, who would make short work of a wife if they could find a plump young one in the way,—they being robbers, ravishers, and cannibals withal. Therefore he warned his bride to keep well within doors when he was away, and to open to none, which she, poor soul, meant to obey with all her might. But being alone at midnight, and hearing a call outside, even "Pantahdooe!" M., "Open the door to me!" she wondered greatly who it might be. And it was a very wicked wizard, a boo-oin, or pow-wow; and he, being subtle and crafty, and knowing of her family, so imitated the voices of her brothers and sisters; beseeching her to let them in, that her very heart ached. "O sister, we have come from afar!" they cried. "We missed you, and have followed you. Let us in!" And yet again she heard a sad and very earnest voice, and it was that of her old mother, crying, "N'toos', n'toos', pantahdooe!" M., "My daughter! my daughter! open unto me!" and she verily wist that it must be so. But when she heard the voice of her dear old father, shaking and saying, "Pantahdooe loke cyowchee!" "Open the door, for I am very cold!" she could resist no more, and, springing up, opened it to those who were without. And then the evil sorcerers, springing on her like mad wolves, dragged her away and devoured her. They did not leave two of her little bones one with another. [Footnote: This Indian Little Red Riding-Hood story is very effective. The wolfish sorcerers bursting in at midnight are even more terrible, from a nursery melodramatic point, than the old wolf in bed.]

Now when Wejek, the Tree Partridge, came in and found his friend's wife gone, he was so angry that, without waiting, he set forth to seek her. And this was not wisely done, since, falling among them, he was himself slain. Then Pulowech, returning last of all, and finding no one, sought by means of magic to know where friend and wife might be. For taking a woltes, or a wooden dish, he filled it with water, and charmed it with a spell, and placed it in the back part of his wigwam, just opposite the door. So he laid him down to sleep, and in the morning when he arose he looked upon the dish,—even the dish of divination,—and lo! it was half full of blood. Then he knew that the twain had been murdered.

Then gathering all his arms, he went forth for revenge, and passed many days on the path, tracking the boo-oin; and having the eyesight of sorcery, he one day beheld very far away, upon an exceeding high cliff, the knee of a man sticking out of the stone, and knew that a sorcerer had hidden himself in the solid rock, even as a child might hide itself in a pile of feathers. Then throwing his tomahawk he cut away the knee, and the boo-oin, his spell broken, remained hard and fast forever in the ledge. And yet, anon, a little further on, he saw a foot projecting from a wall, and this he likewise cut off, and with that he had slain two.

And as he went further he found by the way a poor little squirrel, even Meeko, who was crawling along, half dead, in sorry plight. And taking her up he made her well, and placing her in his bosom, said, "Rest there yet a while, Meeko, for thou must fight to-day, and that fiercely. Yet fear not, for I will stand by thee, and when I tap thy back, then shalt thou bring forth thy young!"