While we know our northern friends may not feel it, in the South, Spring is
here. So we thought we'd share a few of our gardening sites appropriate
for this time of the year. Along with gardening, there's grilling, and getting
ready to diet so that you can fit back into that bathing suit this summer!
I have
been told that there is an old custom among
the Micmacs, still remembered by many now
alive, which is probably a remnant of a
ceremony with which was connected an old
dance. To this custom is given the name of
the "Trade Dance," for reasons which will
appear. The account of the custom was given
by Peter Selmore, who witnessed it not many
years ago. It is said to be more common
among the Micmacs than among the
Passamaquoddies.
The participants, one or more in number, go
to the wigwam of another person, and when
near the entrance sing a song. The leader
then enters, and, dancing about, sings at
the same time a continuation of the song he
sang at the door of the hut. He then points
out some object in the room which he wants
to buy, and offers a price for it. The owner
is obliged to sell the object pointed out,
or to barter something of equal value. The
narrator remembers that the dress of the
participants was similar to that of the
Indians of olden times. He remembers, in the
case of women, that they wore the
variegated, pointed cap covered with beads,
the loose robe, and leggings. The face of
the participant was painted, or daubed black
with paint or powder.
This song is recorded on cylinder 17.
The singer told me, and I can well believe
it, that the song is very ancient. I have
little doubt that in this ceremony we have a
survival of dances of the olden times, when
they assumed a significance now either
wholly lost or greatly modified.
It is not without probability that the songs
sung as ancient songs may have modern
strains in them, but as a general thing I
think we can say that they are authentic. I
do not think I draw on my imagination when I
say that one can detect a general character
in them which recalls that of Western
Indians. In order to experiment on this, I
submitted the records to a person who had
heard the songs of the Plain Indians, and
who did not know whether the song which she
heard from the phonograph was to be Indian
or English. She immediately told me
correctly in all cases which was the Indian,
although she had never before heard the
Passamaquoddy songs.
The folk stories of the Passamaquoddies are
but little known to the young boys and girls
of the tribe. It is mostly from the old and
middle-aged persons that these stories can
be obtained. I was told by one of these
story-tellers that it was customary, when he
was a boy, for the squaws to reward them for
collecting wood or other duties with
stories. A circle gathered about the fire
after work, and listened for hours to these
ancient stories, fragments no doubt of an
ancient mythology, upon which possibly had
been grafted new incidents derived by the
Indians from their intercourse with the
various Europeans with whom they had been
brought in contact.
I succeeded in getting upon the phonograph
several war songs, typical of a large number
known to the Passamaquoddies. The words of
many are improvised, though there is no
doubt that the tunes are ancient. The words
of one of these songs are given below.
I will arise with tomahawk in my
hand, and I must have revenge on
that nation which has slain my poor
people. I arise with war club in my
hand, and follow the bloody track of
that nation which killed my people.
I will sacrifice my own life and the
lives of my warriors. I arise with
war club in my hand, and follow the
track of my enemy. When I overtake
him I will take his scalp and string
it on a long pole, and I will stick
it in the ground, and my warriors
will dance around it for many days;
then I will sing my song for the
victory over my enemy.
Passamaquoddy Indians are believers in a
power by which a song, sung in one place,
can be heard in another many miles away.
This power is thought to be due to m' toulin,
or magic, which plays an important part in
their belief. Several instances were told
me, and others have published similar
observations. Leland, in his "Algonquin
Legends of New England," pp. 517, 518, gives
a weird account of an Indian who was so
affected by m' toulin that he left his home
and travelled north to find a cold place.
Although lightly clad and bare-footed, he
complained that it was too hot for him, and
hastened away to find a climate more
congenial to his tastes. In this account one
is led to believe that the man was insane,
and that to the Indian insanity is simply
the result of m' toulin.
In a very
interesting paper of A.F. Chamberlain, on
"The Thunder-Bird among the Algonquins," in
the "American Anthropologist," January,
1890, reference is made to the belief in
this being among the Passamaquoddy Indians.
On my recent visit to Calais I obtained from
Peter Selmore a story of the origin of the
Thunder-Bird, which is different from any
mentioned by Leland. This story, I regret to
say, I was unable to get on the phonograph.
A story of the old times.7
Two men desired to find the origin of
thunder. They set out and traveled north,
and came to high mountains. These mountains
drew back and forth, and then closed
together very quickly. One of the men said
to the other, "I will leap through the cleft
when it opens, and if I am caught you can
follow and try to find the origin of
thunder." The first one passed through the
cleft before it closed, and the second one
was caught. The one that went through saw,
in a large plain below, a group of wigwams,
and a number of Indians playing ball. After
a little while these players said to each
other, "It is time to go." They went to
their wigwams and put on wings, and took
their bows and arrows and flew away over the
mountains to the south. The old men said to
the Indian, "What do you want? Who are you?"
He told his mission, and they deliberated
what to do. Finally they took him and put
him in a mortar and pounded him up so that
all his bones were broken. Then they took
him out and gave him wings and a bow and
arrows, and sent him away. They told him he
must not go near the trees, for if he did he
would go so fast that he could not stop, but
would get caught in the crotch of a tree.
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.8
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.
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