TRANSACTIONS OF THE CANADIAN INSTITUTE. [VoL. VI. 
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She joys with another. 
All for another she chases the salmon, 
Ah-Ka. Your sweetheart has left you. 
So do they jeer him, 
Ah-Ka—your sweetheart is here at the fishing ! 
Ah-Ka—how like you this gay salmon season ?”’ 
In a love-tale of the Wabanaki Indians, of Maine and New Bruns- 
wick, occurs the following beautiful song (Reade in Proc. Roy. Soe. 
Can.; 1887.7p<6): 
‘*Come, my loved one, let us go up that shining mountain, and sit together on that shin- 
ing mountain ; there we will watch the beautiful sun go down from the shining 
mountain. 
There we will sit until the beautiful night-traveller (z.e., evening star) arises above the 
shining mountain ; we will watch him, as he climbs to the beautiful skies. 
We will also watch the little stars following their chief. 
We will also watch the northern lights playing their game of ball in their cold, shiny 
country. 
There we will sit on the beautiful mountain, and listen to the thunder beating his drum. 
We will see the lightning when she lights her pipe. 
We willsee the great whirlwind running a race with squall. 
There we will sit, ‘till every living creature feels like sleeping. 
There we will hear the great owl singing his usual song, /eeg-/ee-goo-wul-tigue (‘go to 
sleep all’), and see all the animals obey his song, 
There we will sit on that beautiful mountain, and watch the little stars in their sleepless 
flight. They do not mind the song, /eeg-/ee-go0-wul-tique ; neither will we mind it, 
but sit more closely together and think of nothing but ourselves, on the beautiful 
mountain. 
Again the /eeg-/ee-goo-wiil-tigue will be heard, and the night-traveller will come closer to 
warn us that all are dreaming except ourselves and the little stars. They and 
their chief are coursing along, and our minds go with them. Then the owl 
sleeps ; no more is heard /éeeg-/ee-go0-wul-tigue ; the lightning ceases smoking ; the 
thunder ceases beating his drum ; and though we feel inclined to sleep, yet will 
we sit on the beautiful mountain.” 
Of the Passamaquoddies, in whose language this lyric was composed, 
Mrs. W. W. Brown says that they “surpass all their kindred tribes in 
the strength and development of their poetic faculty. ‘ Hill, dale and 
shady nook, and liquid lapse of murmuring stream’ bear in their names, 
and the legends associated with them, the evidence of their imaginative 
creativeness.” (Reade, Loc. czz., p. 4.) 
We have now compassed the world of primitive man. We have been 
with him, at dawn, and when the evening shadows fell, on lonely 
mountain-top and wave-beat shore ; in burning desert and in icy north- 
ern waste: in Asiatic jungle and in European swamp; by Egyptian 
stream and in Brazilian forest; in bleak Fuegia and in the tropic islands 
of the sea—and what thought comes home to us from all our wander- 
