Penobscot Traditions Penobscot Life in Prehistoric Times By Nicholas Smith Penobscot Traditions Penobscot Life in Prehistoric Times By Nicholas Smith DEDICATED TO PETER L. PAUL who has tried to educate and uplift his people PREFACE This booklet is an attempt to show that life human in the Maine woods was possible. Today our civilization has changed and we think in different terms. If a person gets lost in the woods, it is a catastrophe. In former times people obtained their entire livelihood from the forest. Today our civilized fish and game laws do not make this possible. How- ever, one should be able to exist, if he gets lost in the woods. I have included the animals of earlier times. The deer, a recent comer to the Penobscot is not mentioned. Along with the life of these people I have presented some of the mythology. Most of these tales are almost forgotten. These stories were passed down by word of mouth from one generation to another. Of course each story teller presented the tale in a little different manner. I have tried to present the myths in a variation which will be understand- able and interesting to the person who knows little or nothing about Maine Indian life. I have lived close to the Indians for several years and learned much from them. I have eaten their food, learned some of their language, and become acquainted with many of their customs. If I tried to present a list of all those that had given me information, it would make a long list. There are many Indians in Maine and New Brunswick that hope the Indian Departments will give them more understanding and a better chance in life. I shall mention only one Indian, Peter L. Paul, to whom this is dedicated. He has done much to try to further the cause of his Malecite tribe. He has taught me a great deal of the Indian ways, en- couraged me to go on with my research, and made me feel like I were one of his family. I have tried to show these people before contact with the whites as a happy self sufficient people. They would like to come into their own again. Nicholas N. Smith Young Devil Fish ate quickly and greedily of the musqush (musk- rat). The tender, hot, brown meat from the earthern stew pot tasted good and warmed the young boy. He watched his older brother, who was gnawing on the head. From ancient custom the person who ate the head of the musqush entertained the group with stories after the meal. This boy, a lad of sixteen, had spent the winter in the woods in the final stages of his education and had proved that he could lead a life in the woods. The younger boy knew that the first story would be that of their family heritage. This, both took great pride in and the younger loved to hear it. This was life at its best thought Little Devil Fish. It was the month of April, the moon when the Indians left their winter hunting lodges and moved toward the coastal regions where they would once again gather the salty foods, This family had been given hunting rights to Russell Pond and Stream. This ideal location, about 30 miles west of Katahdin, was a tributary of the West Branch of the Penobscot. It was not far from Mt. Kineo - the place of the arrowhead stone. A winter of abundant food put them in good spirits on this, their last evening in the winter hunting camp. The story telling would not be long tonight, but would make a small boy wonder what adventures might occur on the long trip down river to the ocean. Soon gluttonous appetities seemed satisfied. The slow, musical voice of the adolescent began the cherished story of how their family became known as Devil Fish: "Many, many moons ago several boys canoed far up the Penob- scot River, so far up they passed the last island. They started to fish but only caught black chub. These they kept, cut off their heads which they put on sticks standing them up in the bow of the canoe. When this had been done, they decided to return to their village (Old Town.) They started singing a war song, as they approached the island. Soon an old man heard them. He slipped out of his wigwam, spotted the canoe, and told the neighbors that the boys were returning with several heads of their enemies. The people came out excitedly to see, but were dis- appointed to find nothing but fish heads. The boys were told to stop singing SO that no disaster would befall them. Modokwahando (Devil Fish), one of the boys, said to the others: 'If we return at once, our luck will be greatly improved!' This they did. They had gone but a short distance when they spotted a canoe approaching them. One sharp eyed lad saw that there were two strange creatures paddling it. They were like men but had very narrow faces and very large noses which they covered with their hands shyly. Modokwahando knew they were water nymphs. They passed close to the boys and told them that Mohawks were camped a short distance up river. Devil Fish paddled silently and seeing their camp, made camp a short distance away. After the Mo- hawks were asleep the boys attacked successfully. Now they had some- thing to be proud to stick up in the bow of their canoe. They returned to their village early in the morning singing their war song. This time they were encouraged to sing it. Modokwahando was made a great hero and allowed to found a family which was given this hunting area and provided food, skins for clothing, wood for bows and arrows, bark for canoes, herbs for healing, and wood for fires. Tomorrow we shall leave this place for our summer fishing grounds. In the fall we will be back again.' Little Devil Fish had not realized that he was tired. Now listen- ing to the melodious and rhythmic voice of his brother, he found that he had a hard time to keep his eyes open. He snuggled up against his father and was soon asleep. Morning came quickly and found the family busy in packing their belongings. The birch canoe, which had been placed in a tree for safe keeping during the winter had been taken down and overhauled the day before. The ribs had been set tightly and the bark pitched where it look- ed weak. The young boy was going to help his father paddle this while the more mature lad paddled the newly made moosehide craft. The skin canoe was filled with dried moose and caribou meat. In the bow were several large pieces of Kineo flint which would act as ballast and would later on be fashioned into spear or arrow points, knives, drills or images to be used in religous rites. Neat bundles of prepared skins tied together with cedar bark made up the rest of the load. The birch bark lodge was left just as it was. Birch bark boxes containing the remaining dried corn, wampum, and clothing were put in the birch canoe, together with the stone tools and weapons. Before the fire was extinguished, father took his clam-shell-lined birch bark box and put a large growth from a birch tree in it. This he ignited from a hot coal. This punk would give them a fire when they made camp and was probably their most precious possession. On their way down river the Indians would look for fiddleheads, the early green tops of the unfurling ferns. These would be the first fresh vegetable that the Indians had and would also act as a spring medicine. The needles of the evergreens brewed into teas gave them their necessary vitamins during the winter. A gentle breeze blew from across the great forest, which separ- ated them from the Mohawks, toward the great stony hill, Katahdin, which means "large hill" in the Indian language. The great wind bird, Wuchosen, must be resting after the long season of gales. The gentle lap of the water against the canoe was like music to the rhythmic motions of the paddlers. Little Devil Fish looked around him and thought of spring as something wonderful. Trees beginning to bud, robins and blue- birds arriving, the reappearance of the bear, raccoon, skunk, and wood- chuck from winter months of hibernation, brave, rugged, young plants pushing their way through the earth, and the run of the smelt. All this meant spring. The red willows along the banks contrasted with the greens of the leafing bushes and trees along with the white fluffy pussy willows. The water was high and carried them rapidly. Occasionally ice cakes floated south with them. Soon they had left Russell Pond and were in the Stream, then the West Branch, and finally Chesunkok Lake. Katahdin came to better view. The young lad looked with curios- ity at the large rugged promontory which often had its head in the clouds. Here no Indian dared to go! The deeply lined gourges, where Pamola had in all his rage started the boulders rolling down with ever increasing speed, were clearly visable. No wonder no Indian had ever dared to ascend toward the home of the giant bird, Pamola, or the more powerful Spirit of Katahdin! The sun soon was in the center of the sky. The vigorous work of propelling the canoes in the spring freshet gave them good appetites. They sighted a campsite where they decided to stop for a midday meal. The father carefully took the clam-shell-lined birch bark box and began a fire. Meanwhile, Little Devil Fish was picking birch buds from which they would brew a tea. While doing this he noticed some fine fat fiddle- heads which he stored in a birch bark box for their evening meal. The older boy fashioned a kettle from birch bark and already had the water warming when the younger lad returned. Soon father said that the noon repast was ready. It consisted of dried moose meat, dried corn, and hot birch bud tea. Soon they were filled up and refreshed. Early in the afternoon they entered Chesunkok Lake. Going was slower now. The afternoon passed uneventfully. As the sun sank lower in the sky, they came to a neck of land which stretched out almost separating Chesunkok from Caribou Lake. Here they made camp for the night. Each pitched in to make camp. Little Devil Fish went to find more fiddleheads. It seemed to take a long time to get many. He wander- ed further and further away and finally spotted a large number. He picked them hurriedly, thinking how nice it would be to rest after the meal. Suddenly he thought he heard something in the water. Turning, he saw a canoe heading for the column of smoke that was their campfire. He saw that it was a Wabanaki canoe and wondered who the solitary figure might be. He raced quickly toward the campfire with his fiddle- heads. The stranger landed and greeted the older Devil Fish. The greet- ing was exchanged and the newcomer was invited to partake of the evening meal. Little Devil Fish shyly came into the clearing and stood behind his father, who took the greens. The stranger had planned to camp here for the night and pro- ceeded to set up a shelter similar to those that the older boy had erected. With his stone axe he cut a sapling and two short forked sticks. He hammered the forked sticks into the ground and laid the sapling on them. Next he cut a large sheet of birch bark and laid it on the ground under the frame work, pegging it down flat. This would keep moisture and frost from his body. Evergreen boughs were cut next - some laid on the bark and others set up against the sapling ridgepole. During the meal, which consisted of the succulent greens and several ducks which the stranger donated, Little Devil Fish found a new friend. This man belonged to the village at Norridgewolk. He told his hosts that he had made the trip to the great mountain to gather red ocher and was now on his way home. This highly prized substance was used by the Indians in their ceremonies and deposited in the graves. He also told them that he would stop at Kineo for some of the arrowhead stone on his way to the Kennebec. When supper was finished father let his fire die down and made some corn meal dough. This he put in the hot ashes. Then he kindled a new fire on top of it. Little Devil Fish sat beside the Norridgewolk In- dian's fire. He noticed that there was some bark from the red willow drying in front of it. This was the curing of the Indian tobacco or tomaway. When his new acquaintance came back from checking his canoe for leaks, Little Devil Fish asked him if he needed any tomaway. "No," was the reply. "I am preparing some for my trip home. Do you know how we were given tobacco?" he then asked. "No," answered Little Devil Fish. "Will you tell me?" "Long, long ago," the man began, "there was a woman that lived among us. She was very, very good. Everyone loved her and respected her greatly. She did lots of good among all the Wabanaki people. She lived to be very old, perhaps as a reward for the love of her people. One day she died. Everyone was very sad. They mourned for her a great deal. Finally she was buried. Three days later the people decided to go to her grave and burn an offering to the Great Spirit for her. When they arrived at the grave, they found a plant had sprung up since her burial. None of the people had ever seen it before. They decided that this should be the burnt offering. Thy broke off a piece of the plant and burned it. It gave off a lot of fragrant smoke. This was the first tobacco and the altar was the first pipe." "Have you tired of the Kuloskap tales?" asked the story teller. "No," came the excited reply. "A long time ago the animals were bigger than they are now. Kuloskap made them smaller. Some he made larger. He did that to help the Indian and to make life easier for him. The moose he made smaller SO the Indian could kill him. The big beavers he drove away. (A skeleton of a 9 foot beaver was found in Eastern Canada as well as a mastadon which perhaps the Indians knew about.) Finally Kuloskap came to the squirrel that was as big as a bear. Kuloskap asked the squirrel what he would do if he met an Indian. Squirrel said nothing but jumped at a stump and tore it to pieces to show what he would do if he met an In- dian. Kuloskap saw that squirrel was much too big. He took squirrel in his hands and stroked him. At each stroke squirrel became smaller, till he became the size he is now. Then Kuloskap saw a small animal about the size of a squirrel which had a short tail. Kuloskap put the same question to him. The little animal made no answer but ran away as fast as he could. Kuloskap thought he would make him big like the squirrel was, because he would run away from the Indians and would do him no harm. That is why bear is SO cowardly and runs at the first sight or smell of an Indian. Kuloskap made squirrel change places with bear. If he had made squirrel any larger, there would be no living in the same country with him. Squirrel is destructive enough as he is in the small form." "Bear lost his tail when he was still small. Even then he loved fish, but being SO small he could not always step into the water and get a fish as he does now. One day he was very hungry for fish and went to the water. The bank was very steep and he looked over and saw large, beautiful fish swimming below him. He did not dare go too near the edge for fear of falling in and drowning. Lox, the cunning wolverine came along. He saw bear sadly looking down at the water and asked what the trouble was. Bear told him that he longed for a fish. Lox thought a moment and said that if bear went out on that log, he could put his tail into the water and move it slowly with the current and a fish might bite. Then he could haul it to shore. Bear thought it was a good idea. He started out on the log. His tail dangled in the water. Soon he felt a sharp pain and a mighty tug. He jumped to shore. When he looked back he found only the stump of his tail and could hear the laughter of Lox." Little Devil Fish could not hold back sleep any longer. He went to his shelter and nestled down among the spruce boughs. He had little time to notice the flickering shadows of the firelight before he was asleep. When Little Devil Fish woke up, he found his father already preparing breakfast. The dough which had been put in the hot ashes the night before was now a large, warm, crusty, corn cake. The Nor- ridgewolk gave the boy some maple sugar to put on his slices. As the boy ate the unexpected sweets he was told how Miko, the squirrel gave the Indians maple sugar. "One day a young boy noticed squirrel nibbling at the ends of the maple twigs. He noticed several drops of sap run out. The squirrel licked this eagerly. The boy broke off some and tasted the sweet juice. Then he ran quickly back to his father to show him. Since then we have en- joyed the wonderful sweet syrup and sugar of the maple." The boy finished his breakfast and would have liked to have listened to more of the wonderful stories that this teller of tales had at his command. However, he did not wish to keep his father waiting. The next two days were quite similar - paddling, paddling, paddling. They crossed Pemadumcook Lake and entered the Penobscot. They camped on Turtle Island in the present town of Lincoln where there were three other families. The boy looked forward to more stories. One man greeted them and offered them a meal of smelt. The father accepted gladly. The host's family consisted of a father, mother, girl about 15, and a boy about 11. The younger boy was excited to see another lad about his own age. He soon found out that he was a member of the Quabeet or Beaver clan. During the delicious meal of smelt, these two boys became well acquainted. They ran and played eagerly together in the lengthening twilight. Suddenly Little Devil Fish motioned to Little Beaver to be quiet. Two small bear cubs were playing near the river's edge. Perhaps the hungry mother had received the aroma of smelts and thought that she could get an easy meal stealing from the Indian's camp. The boys watched for a few minutes. As the small, black, fat, furry animals con- tinued to hit one another playfully, the boys slipped back to tell the men. No one thought that the cubs or lean mother were worth killing. They still had a quantity of bear fat which was very valuable for cook- ing as well as a remedy for sore limbs. "We had a funny experience when we were hunting bear last winter," said Little Beaver. "We found a den and had taken a toboggan with us so we could haul the large brute back to camp. We left the toboggan a short distance from the den. Then father proceeded to knock on the den. He called to the bear in Indian. The bear aroused himself. Soon his black wooly head appeared, then one forepaw, then the other. Father brought down his stone axe squarely in the middle of the head. I could hear the skull crack as the blow hit the soft unprotected part of the head. I helped drag the huge beast to the sled. When we got back to where we had left the toboggan, we could not find it. We could see a trail but no footprints to give an indication of who was pulling it. We followed the sled marks and soon saw it moving. The pulling rope was up in the trees. Looking aloft, we saw Lox, sometimes referred to as In- dian Devil, jumping from tree to tree and pulling the sled behind him. When Lox saw us, he dropped the harness and raced away." The older people had finished their chores and were settling down around the campfire. The men were filling their pipes with toma- way. "Do you know the story, 'Mother of all Lakes?' ,, asked Big Beaver. "No, I'd love to hear it," replied Little Devil Fish excitedly. "Long, long ago at the pond below here, (now called Cold Stream Pond in Enfield) there was a large Indian village. For some reason the Great Spirit became mad at these people. By some great natural force he caused water to flow in and this became the first lake in the land of the Wabanaki. From it the water flowed to all other parts of our land. All the lakes received their water from it. If you could go to the bottom of the lake, you would find the village." Little Devil Fish knew that he would have to get up early the next morning as they planned to get to the big village of Panawampskik (Old Town.) There he would see his mother again. She had remained there for the winter to take care of her aged father. The morning meal was quickly devoured. The corn bread did not taste quite as good without the maple syrup. As both families were going to the village they would be good company. The Beaver family had come down from the village of Meductic on the St. John River. They had followed the Eel River to First Eel Lake and then portaged across to North Lake. They travelled to Grand Lake where they portaged to Bas- kehegan River which flows into Mattawamkeag River which turns and twists until it reaches the Penobscot. The great flow of water helped to carry them on their way. Once or twice Little Devil Fish heard the splashing of a moose or caribou in the water. Once he even saw a moose with its head under water looking for roots. Two bald eagles flew by them. One was holding a frog in its talons. The other was attacking hoping that the frog would be dropped. A blue jay seemed to follow them. Perhaps he was looking for an easy meal after they had made camp. The day was warm and several times he saw a fish jump after an early bug. A muskrat swam close to the bank, saw the canoes and went to shore hiding among the early growing green bushes. Probably its home was flooded by the high water. As he took interest in all these creatures of nature, the trip did not take long. In no time they were at Olamon, another place to gather the red paint. It was not long before the great white rocks of the northern end of his island home came into view. Soon they passed Lover's Leap - the place where the treacherous Mohawk and his traitor Penobscot wife jumped to their death after he had been caught acting as a spy. Finally the birch bark wigwams came into view, then the landing. The canoes had been seen and people were gathering anxious to see who was arriving. The canoe had hardly hit the soil before the boy was bounding up the slope into his mother's arms. Their homecoming was not all joy, however, for the lad noticed the black line of mourning on his mother's cheek. Father also noticed it, even before he got out of the canoe. As he went toward her, he motion- ed toward the dark line on her face. "They buried Grandfather a week ago," she said sadly. This man had been a great magician. When he had been a young man, he had swallowed a turtle's heart. The palpitations of a turtle's heart continue after the reptile is dead. If an Indian swallowed one while it was contracted, he would have life forever; if the heart dilates in the throat, the Indian chokes to death. This aged man had successfully swallowed the heart. He had grown extremely old and feeble. Finally he couldn't leave his bed. At times he seemed to be dead but would suddenly emit a gasp. The gasp became a hoarse wheeze. His eyes began to dry up, then the skin. Finally the eyes no longer existed - only whiten- ed sockets. The chiefs decided it would be best to bury him even if his heart continued to beat and he took an occasional breath. "Even though he is buried, he is still alive," sighed the woman. Father thought that it would be best not to stay here long but continue down river to the ocean for the salty foods. The older boy had taken a fancy to his new female acquaintance. The younger boy was showing off to the other lads of the village. This first evening was taken up with news of the winter's hunting, news of the village and specula- tion of the coming summer's crops and fishing. It was late when the family went to bed. Early the next morning father was up to begin work in the tribal corn field. The older son went with his father but seemed to be pre- occupied. Little Devil Fish went off to find his playmates. Soon he was showing off his marksmanship. He wanted to prove that he was a good hunter. He climbed into a canoe and started off for one of the neighbor- ing islands. His friends quickly followed him. He landed and began stalking game. Suddenly he heard a strange noise - a dull scraping sound. He came to a clearing. There in front of him was a wigwam and a- was it the shaggy head of a man or bear? Should he make a noise? The playmates behind him stopped also. One boy recognized the creature as Old Bear, a hunter who camped alone. The old man was sur- prised to see the children and called a greeting. His dog nosed them and then returned to the fire and sat down. Soon Old Bear learned why these lads were here. "Now let me tell you what happens to boys who run off in the woods," he said continuing to scrape the fat from the freshly killed caribou hide. The young people loved this story especially the way Old Bear told it and settled down to hear it. "When my grandfather was a baby, his family started for a council that was to be held in Caughnawaga. They started out by canoe. At one of the longer portages the boy's father started running along the trail with his canoe over his head. His wife came along behind carrying some of the cargo. The child tagged along by her side. He grew restless and thought that he could run ahead and find his father. The boy became lost. When she caught up with father and saw no sign of the boy they both became very worried and retraced their steps. They still found no trace of the child. Instead of going on, they went back to the village and told the people what had happened. All the men decided they would go at once to search for him. No trace was found. During the winter hunters kept their eyes open to discover some clue. Late in March one person found some sharpened sticks. It might have been that the boy was spear- ing fish. Close by were bear tracks. Could the bears have adopted him? Still no trace was found. One lazy old man who had been criticized much for his idleness decided he would find the bear's den and see if the boy were there. He went and knocked at the den. The father bear came out and the man killed him. He knocked a second time and the mother bear came. She too, was killed. The third time he knocked a cub came. This he killed also. Then he entered and found the boy huddled in a corner crying for those that had cared for him all during the winter. He was beginning to grow black hair and become like a bear. The man took the lad home and was received as a hero. The parents were grateful and gave him many gifts. Soon they had the boy back to his normal Indian self." As it was close to noon the boys thought they had better start back. The mixture of strange smells seemed to urge them to remain. The drying tomaway, the skin of the caribou with its fat, bear, otter, mink, and muskrat furs on stretchers, various herbs drying on the roof of the wigwam, charred bones of the caribou and muskrat that were used by hunters to foretell the best hunting territory, moose meat drying by the fire - all this blended with the fragrance of the pine, hemlock and spruce surrounding them. A late spring snow squall seemed to be their answer. "We can't go back now!" they cried, appearing to be disappointed. Their hero pointed to the freshly killed caribou and said, "I guess there is enough for all." The broiling meat soon made the boys forget about going home. They did not realize that the sky was getting darker. The snow did not let up but came down harder. Soon it began to turn to rain. A thin jagged streak of lightning shot across the sky. The ominous silence was broken by a reverberating roar. Quickly the old timer set out an offering to the Thunder God. "If I light some tomaway for the mighty Thunder, I shall not get struck this year," reflected the hunter. The storm was soon over and the boys not being able to find further excuse to remain there, started for home. When they arrived home, they noticed that some of the girls had been playing with dolls made from sprigs of pine needles. These they set on split pieces of cedar, sang a song, and tapped the wood in rhythm to the music. This made the pine needles appear as though they were dancing. They might circle, clasp a partner, separate, or go by them- selves. Some of the smaller children had folded thin pieces of birch bark and then bit it. After taking it from their mouths they compared designs. The older boy had decided that he would like to take his new found friend for his wife. The next morning, instead of going to work, he went to her wigwam. She was sitting inside grinding some corn with her stone pestle. The bashful boy threw the large chip that he had taken with him toward her. She turned and picked it up and smiled at him. She would have him! He ran and told his father. He would now prepare to go out hunting for food for the marriage feast. About noon he came back with a caribou over his shoulders and several partridge hanging from his belt. Early in the afternoon the women began pre- paring for the feast. The savory smells from the choice Indian dishes tantalized the children. Soon the cracking of bones, the sucking of marrow, and the dogs snarling and fighting could be heard. There was enough for all. One old man had been asked to lead the dance. Taking his turtle shell rattle he began a slow rhythmical beat. His voice drew the people away from the banquet. More and more people joined hands and follow- ed him through the wavy motions similar to a snake. He began to go faster and faster till the wavy line of people were running. This was the Snake Dance, one of the dances which was used at the beginning of many of the celebrations. When this was over they divided up into groups. The new couple was in the head group with the dance leader. All the small groups were moving in a direction opposite to that of the sun besides doing steps of their own in the group. As the evening wore on, the dance tempo became faster and faster. At the end of each dance the word, "matamalyahe," re-echoed. This signified the marriage ceremony. Although the dance lasted through the night, the young couple went to their wigwam about midnight. Early in the morning they would have to begin their trip. This would prove whether they were capable of fulfilling the duties that each would have to perform, if they were to exist. The medicine man gave them some advice SO they could remain a happy couple. After the trip, if either could prove that the other could not perform the duties, the chiefs would annul the marriage. This would be very sad because no one would want that person for a mate in the future. As father watched them paddle away, he looked down at Little Devil Fish and thought, "You just get them trained to be useful, and they leave you." Now I shall have to begin over again with his younger brother. They would give them a day's start before they started for their summer camp at Bar Harbor. The young couple would go to Deer Isle. The next morning the family started for the coast. This time all three occupants were in the birch bark canoe. Little Devil Fish realized his new responsibility - filling in for his older brother. The first test would be the falls below the village. Father picked a course and gather- ed as much speed as possible. Just as they were about to go over the falls, he gave a mighty twist with the paddle. The canoe was now parallel to the falls. In a split second they were sliding down the white band of water. With another mighty twist the man straightened the canoe and it was once more gliding rapidly down the river. Little Devil Fish watched for rocks and logs and kept the bow of the canoe from hitting them by using his paddle to fend them off from the projections. The trip down river was much the same as it had been on the first leg of the journey. Now the vegetation was more advanced. Fiddleheads were easy to obtain. More birds were arriving filling the forest with their merry voices. Once they passed an otter slide with one of the animals about to take a dip in the water. However, he sensed the canoe and ran to a vantage point where he could see but could not be seen. The family was not in as great a hurry now. They would camp where the Salmon Pool is now located in Bangor and do some fishing as the salmon tried to go over the falls. They prepared camp. As they were planning to stay several days, this was more elaborate then those that were made earlier in the trip. Mother began preparing some of the clay for an earthen cooking pot. After a shelter had been erected father showed his son how to cut and tie the bark for birch bark torches. While he was doing this, father would make a salmon spear. This had two jaws which would prevent the fish from wriggling from the prong. He burned through a piece of rock maple and then with a sharpened stone split two pieces about an inch thick by hammering the stone wedge with his axe. Then he shaped them with his stone gouge. The prong was made from hornbeam hardened by fire. The handle was a young pine that had been smothered by its taller companions. The prong was tied in, as were the jaws, with elm bark. Soon it was mealtime. After supper father thought of a story to tell the boy. He began: "Today you did well. We went over the large falls successfully. You were able to spot the rocks and logs SO that we did not hit and damage our canoe or perhaps even upset. Those were big jobs. Sometimes it is the smaller things that are the hardest to do. This is especially important in hunting. If you neglect the smallest detail, the animal might detect you and escape. I will tell you how a baby conquered Kuloskap. "This happened in the days of old when Kuloskap roamed our land. He had conquered the strongest creatures - animals, magicians, and devils. One evening he was sitting in a wigwam reflecting over his victories. He thought that there was nothing that he could not conquer. A woman sat near him. He asked her if she could think of anything that he could not conquer. She was silent for a moment for she was a clever woman. 'Only one," was her reply. 'What is that?' asked the amazed Kuloskap. 'The mighty baby that is sitting in front of you,' she answered. The baby sat on the floor sucking a piece of maple sugar. Kuloskap had never married and had had few close contacts with children. He smiled at the baby and asked it to come to him. It smiled back, but made no effort to move. Kuloskap asked a second time in a much sweeter voice. The baby looked with smiling face, the sugar still in its mouth. This irritated the great man. In a loud voice he commanded the child to obey him. The scared baby burst into tears and yelled vociferously. Kul- oskap was left to his last resort - magic. He tried all his magic spells but still the baby sat; his tears changed to a smile. Occasionally a 'goo!' was emitted. In despair the great man gave up and the baby still sat sucking his sweet sugar in the sunshine saying 'goo! goo!' You still find babies say 'goo, goo,' in remembrance of their victory over Kuloskap. He was the only creature that Kuloskap was not able to conquer." As it was dusk father thought that it was time to start for the falls where they could spear salmon. He took his spear and several torches. The boy carried some too. As they approached the falls, they could make out the dark forms of the fish making their way over the falls in the white water. They seemed to stand on their tails and then leap up through a rivulet of the falling water. If they were lucky they landed in a small pool where they could catch their breath before start- ing the next leap higher. Some almost reached the top and then were washed to the bottom by the force of the cascading water. The Indians found a place near the bank where they could look down and see any approaching fish. When father spotted one, the boy lit a torch SO that father could judge his spearing. When he brought up a fish, the boy stuck the torch in the ground. The father turned and the son grabbed the fish from the spear. This would be a nice change in the menu to- morrow. Soon they had enough and started back. Little Devil Fish seem- ed hungry and asked his father if he could have one. As the boy had done well with his work, father thought that it would be good for them all to enjoy a nice fresh salmon. The boy raced home to his mother who prepared the fish. The lad split a piece of green cedar. Taking some twigs of hard wood, he cut them into wedges. The split salmon was laid on the wood and the wedges driven through and into the soft cedar. Then it was set up in front of the fire, the white wood reflecting the heat. They smoked many of the fish SO that they would have some when they got further down river. The time seemed to pass rapidly and before long they were again on their way down river. The river widened. It was beautiful. The sky was blue and the water was blue. The islands and mainland were the fresh green of spring. Dogwood, cherry, and laurel were blossoming. Soon they were at the bay and camped at what is now called Castine. Other Indians were seen frequently. Here other branches of the Wabanki nation frequently came - the Wewenocks from further down the coast, and the Passamaquoddies from further up the coast. Seeing, meeting, and talking with these people made life interest- ing for them. Sometimes they hunted and fished in groups instead of as individuals. There seemed to be plenty for all. When the family was camped near Dice's Head, Castine, Little Devil Fish heard the story of how Kuloskap killed a moose near Moose- head Lake. That is now Mt. Kineo. Then the hunter chased the calf. At Kokodjo he threw down his kettle, that is now Kettle Mt. He pursued the animal to Spencer Pond where he threw down his pack. Now that is Spencer Mt. The calf turned south, Kuloskap still after him on snow- shoes. At Belfast the pursuer jumped the Penobscot River landing at Castine. The snowshoe marks can still be seen. Finally at St. Rosier he was able to kill the beast. He threw the entrails to his dog. They are the white quartz which can be seen under the water. The liver is the red quartz. At Sedgewick they camped near the great stone bird at the Punchbowl. Now the Indians say the whiteman has destroyed the head of the bird SO it does not receive much attention. In former times it was greatly admired. Finally they were at Pemetic - where the mountains are seen from the water in a jagged line. They camped at Oak Point and met Indians that had come down the Union River, a popular fishing re- sort. Seals inhabited the islands together with great auks. Finally they established their summer camp at Manesaydik, the clam gathering place, (Bar Harbor). Here they gathered an abundant supply of clams, oysters, scal- lops, lobsters, and fish. Large quantities were smoked or dried for use in the winter. They were stored in birch bark boxes. Father taught his son how to make full use of all animals. The bladder of the seal made an excellent water tight bag. The seal oil was extracted and stored in these. It was an excellent medicine. The boy learned to make tools from the bones using his stone knife. He became adept at throwing a harpoon at a porpoise. Then with his wet paddle and the sun's rays he signaled to a person whose luck had not been so good. The unlucky fisherman helped bring the mammal to shore, cut it into juicy steaks, broiled it, and ate it. Little Devil Fish did not care too much for the greasy meat. How- ever, he did love a clambake. He eagerly gathered firewood and stones for these. They first made a layer of stones, then firewood, then stones till they had a mound about four feet high. They lighted the wood. Soon this had burned down and all the stones were red hot. Then they threw lobsters, crabs, clams, and any other seafoods that had been gathered onto the red hot rocks covering them with seaweed. In about an hour they would be ready. He could hardly keep from burning himself on the hot succulent morsels. Several times he had seen men use the large lobster claws for a pipe. Once in his eagerness to cut some firewood for a clambake the axe slipped and cut a deep gash in his foot. His mother squirted several puffballs on it which stopped the bleeding, then took some balsam from a pine and drew the skin together and sealed it with the pitch. It was not long before his leg was as good as new. Sometimes his mother sent him to gather the large water lily roots. When these large, meaty, tuborous roots were baked, they were delicious. He even went to the islands and gathered auk's and gull's eggs. Sometimes he took an auk home to be roasted. He learned to read the signs left by hunters, perhaps a stick stuck in the ground pointing a direction or a piece of birch bark marked with charcoal and stuck to a tree or bush. He learned how to make dyes - the blue of the rotting cedar, red of the blood root, yellow of the gold thread, green of the cedar bark, brown of the hemlock. He liked to go berrying but liked to eat them much better then to use them for dyes. Soon summer would be over and the beauty and good times of Bar Harbor but a dream until another year. This was life at its best for the lad. It was a life of continual hunting and fishing for survival. It was a life of nature - animals, plants, birds, fish and stones. It was a life of beauty - a delicate flower, a young moose, or a magnificent day. It meant a continual cycle of moving. All this was what the Indian lived for and what kept the Indian living. One evening Young Devil Fish asked his father if he had ever seen Kuloskap. "No," replied the adult. "The great master is living still but no ones knows where. He may be to the north, to the least, to the west, or to the south. If you have faith enough and go and seek him, you will find him. They say he is in a great wigwam. He is making arrows there. When he has the wigwam filled, he will make war on all the world and kill all living things. That will be the end of the world. Perhaps some will be saved; perhaps everything will be destroyed. Perhaps the end will be tomorrow; perhaps not for a generation. It is good not to know all what might happen. We can go on living just as we are, think- ing of tomorrow and all that we must do to keep our families happy. If we live well, perhaps the great Kuloskap will see and change his mind or wait until we have passed into the Happy Hunting Ground before he works his powers of destruction."