FABLE AND FOLKLORE 277 



when, far away in the forest, he seeks to find his master ; 

 and he instructed them to utter this weird summons 

 whenever they required him. 



Now it came to pass long after, the Master in Uktakumkuk 

 (The which is Newfoundland) came to an Indian village, 

 And all who dwelt therein were Kwimuuk, who had been 

 Loons in the time before. And now they were very glad 

 As men to see once more the Master, who had blessed them 

 When they were only birds. Therefore he made them his 



huntsmen. 

 Also his messengers. Hence comes that in all the stories 

 Which are told of the mighty Master the loons are ever his 



friends ; 

 And the Indians, when they hear the cry of the loons, exclaim : 

 "Kimu elkomtuejul Kuloskapul"— the Loon is calling 

 Kuloskap, the Master. 



Leith Adams 103 says: "Stories are told" — among the 

 Micmacs in New Brunswick — "how the snowy owl still 

 laments the Golden Age when man and all animals lived 

 in perfect amity until it came to pass that they began 

 to quarrel; when the great Glooscap, or Gotescarp, got 

 disgusted and sailed across the seas to return when 

 they made up their differences. So every night the owl 

 repeats to this day his Koo, koo, skoos. 'Oh, I am sorry, 

 Oh, I am sorry.' " 



A quaint little legend comes from the Tillamooks, 

 whose home was formerly on the Oregon coast, where 

 the tides do not rise very much. In the beginning of 

 the world, it teaches, the crow had a voice like that of 

 the thunder-bird, and the thunder-bird the voice of a 

 crow. The latter proposed to exchange voices. The 

 crow agreed to this, but demanded that in return the 

 thunder-bird give her low water along the seashore, 

 so that she might more easily gather the clams and other 

 mussels, which was a part of a Tillamook woman's daily 



