510 THE ¢EGIHA LANGUAGE—MYTHS, STORIES, AND LETTERS. 
qAGI-NA*PAJT TO pA AN’GA-NAJT". 
Nisiha, a"wa” qpani héga-maji ui Jh wigfsi¢é-hna"-ma™. Eskana, nisfha, 
My child, I am poor _ Iam very I usually peer you, my Oh that, my child 
relation 
wigha"be ka"b¢éga"-hna™-ma™ dta"hé—Kagéha, maja” ¢é¢u ca” ca™ hni”’ 
Isee you, my own I usually hope Iwho stand.— My friend, land here always you were 
visu 
yiji, a"wa™ qpani-maji taté eb¢éga” ¢a™ja, ihné ha. Hnéga™ a*wa qpani 
if, I (am) not poor shall I think though, youhave . As you went Iam poor 
gone 
, Su 7 = ~ C — 
héga-maji. Ca™ edada™ ticka® ma™hni™ yi, ca” e‘a™ mat™hni” yi, b¢iga 
IT am very. Yet what deeds you walk if, infaet how you walk i all 
and‘a® ka™b¢a hi. Ca” fe uda®qti wigina‘a® ka™b¢a ha. Nisiha, maja™ 
T hear it I wish XS In fact words very good I hear of you, I wish t My child, land 
my own 
anaji" ¢an‘di wab¢ita™ a*¢a cpaha™ hnati té, itea® Ataca™ b¢é. Wage ama 
I stood in the I worked you knew me you(pl.) when, now beyond it I go. White the 
went people (sub.) 
edada® ca” wa¢ate botiga gaxai gé edwakiga™qtia“i. Ceta™ a¢ita™ té 
what in fact food mel noe ; we are just alike. So far wework the 
P 
ang¢i‘aqti, g¢isai té ang¢itaqti, ma¢e ha. Maja™ cta™be ga" bgliga wamuske 
we have failed plucking the wehavefailed winter . Land you saw wheat 
indeed, their own indeed, 
ugipi. Maja” ¢an‘di iyuhe ¢ingé’qti a™naji"i; sagiqti a"¢i”. Nikaci"ga-ma 
is full of. Land in the cae of having sone we stand; very firm we are. The people 
‘ear at 
fna ¢atai gé ijaje zaniqti a"wa™na‘a™ anga™¢ai. Wactce ijim’ge ¢anka 
how san are the hisname every one we hear them we wish. Wacuce hisson theones 
many ie 
wit vé. E/di-4-i- naji” ijaje agi”. 
one died. Edi-a-i-naji® his name he had. 
NOTES. 
This zajaiiga-naji" is sometimes called yajaNga-naji” jinga (7. ¢., the younger), 
to distinguish him from Acawage. He is the brother-in-law of Mi*xa-ska, the elder 
Frank La Fléche. 
510, 2. Kageha, ¢. e., Ma"tcu-wa¢ihi. 
TRANSLATION. 
My child, I always think of you when lam poor. I am ever hoping to see you. 
My friend, you have gone, though I thought that I should never be poor if you always 
remained here in this country. As you went, lam very poor. I wish to hear all, what 
you are doing, and how you are. I hope to hear very good words from you who are 
my own relation. My child, when you departed, you knew that I worked the land 
where I dwell. I have now exceeded what I did then. We are just like the white 
people in raising all kinds of food. We have not yet finished our work; we are far 
