Native American Legends
Of the girl who married Mount Katahdin, and how all the Indians brought about their own rain
A Penobscot Legend
Of the old time. There was once an Indian girl gathering blueberries
on Mount Katahdin. And, being lonely, she said, "I would that I
had a husband!" And seeing the great mountain in all its glory rising
on high, with the red sunlight on the top, she added, "I wish Katahdin
were a man, and would marry me!"
All this she was heard to say ere she went onward and up the mountain,
but for three years she was never seen again. Then she reappeared,
bearing a babe, a beautiful child, but his little eyebrows were
of stone. For the Spirit of the Mountain had taken her to himself;
and when she greatly desired to return to her own people, he told
her to go in peace, but forbade her to tell any man who had married
her.
Now the boy had strange gifts, and the wise men said that he was
born to become a mighty magician. For when he did but point his
finger at a moose, or anything which ran, it would drop dead; and
when in a canoe, if he pointed at the flocks of wild ducks or swans,
then the water was at once covered with the floating game, and they
gathered them in as they listed, and through that boy his mother
and every one had food and to spare.
Now this was the truth, and it was a great wonder, that Katahdin
had wedded this girl, thinking with himself and his wife to bring
up a child who should build up his nation, and make of the Wabanaki
a mighty race. And he said, "Declare unto these people that they
are not to inquire of thee who is the father of thy child; truly
they will all know it by seeing him, for they shall not grieve thee
with impertinence." Now the woman had made it known that she would
not be questioned, and she gave them all what they needed; yet,
for all this, they could not refrain nor restrain themselves from
talking to her on what they well knew she would fain be silent.
And one day when they had angered her, she thought, "Truly Katahdin
was right; these people are in nowise worthy of my son, neither
shall he serve them; he shall not lead them to victory; they are
not of those who make a great nation." And being still further teased
and tormented, she spake and said, "Ye fools, who by your own folly
will kill yourselves; ye mud-wasps, who sting the fingers which
would pick ye out of the water, why will ye ever trouble me to tell
you what you well know? Can you not see who was the father of my
boy? Behold his eyebrows; do ye not know Katahdin by them? But it
shall be to your exceeding great sorrow that ever ye inquired. From
this day ye may feed yourselves and find your own venison, for this
child shall do so no more for you."
And she arose and went her way into the woods and up the mountain,
and was seen on earth no more. And since that day the Indians, who
should have been great, have become a little people. Truly it would
have been wise and well for those of early times if they could have
held their tongues.
This remarkable legend was related to me by Mrs. Marie Sakis, a
Penobscot, a very clever story-teller. It gives the Fall of Man
from a purely Indian standpoint. Nothing is so contemptible in Indian
eyes as a want of dignity and idle, loquacious teasing; therefore
it is made in the myth the sin which destroyed their race. The tendency
of the lower class of Americans, especially in New England, to raise
and emphasize the voice, to speak continually in italics and small
and large capitals, with a wide display, and the constant disposition
to chaff and tease, have contributed more than any other cause to
destroy confidence and respect for them among the Indians.
Since writing the foregoing paragraph, I have read The Abnakis,
by Rev. Eugene Vetromile. In his chapter on the Religion and Superstition
of these Indians he gives this story, but, as I think, in a corrupted
form. Firstly, he states that Pamola (that is, Bumole), who is the
evil spirit of the night air, was the Spirit of Mount Katahdin.
Now these are certainly at present two very distinct beings,
which are described as being personally quite unlike. Secondly,
in Vetromile's story the mother and child disappear in consequence
of the child having inadvertently killed an Indian by pointing
at him. It will be seen that this feeble, impotent conclusion utterly
spoils the manifest meaning of the whole legend.
Of this story Vetromile remarks that "it is, of course, a superstitious
tale, made up by the prolific imagination of some Indians, yet we
can perceive in it some vestiges of the fall of the first man in
having transgressed the command of God, and how it could be repaired
only by God. We can also trace some ideas of the mystery of the
Incarnation of the Son of God in the womb of the Blessed Virgin
Mary, mixed with fables, superstitions, and pagan errors. The appearance
of God to Moses in the Burning Bush may be glimpsed in Pamole appearing
to the Indian on Mount Katahdin, and so forth."
The pilgrims in Rabelais did not point out scriptural coincidences
with greater ingenuity than this. It is deeply to be regretted that
the reverend father's entire knowledge of the mythology of the Abenakis
was limited to this single story. (Vide Bumole, in chapter on Supernatural
Beings.) It may be, however, observed, that if the name Bumole or
Pamola really means "he curses on the mountain," or curse on mountain,
it was natural that the evil spirit should be supposed to be on
the mountain. Pamola was perhaps at an early period the spirit of
lightning, and might thus be very easily confused with Katahdin.
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