1. Notes on Authorship
  2. Why Should We Read and Study First Nations Story?
  3. Literature & Analysis
    • “How the Mohawk War Party Was Drowned”
    • Analysis of “How the Mohawk War Party Was Drowned”
    • “How the Wabanaki Confederacy Began”
    • Analysis of “How the Wabanaki Confederacy Began”
    • “Glooscap and His Four Visitors”
    • Analysis of “Glooscap and His Four Visitors”
  4. Questions and Considerations for Reflection
  5. Strategies for Teachers
  6. Further Reading
  7. Copyright

Notes on Authorship

The Mi’kmaq, Maliseet (Wolastoqiyik), and Passamaquoddy peoples of what would become New Brunswick did not have a culture of writing, meaning that they relied on oral storytelling rather than systems of lettering to preserve their knowledge and history. In cultures of writing, knowledge becomes material, and materiality is attributed to the individual who owns or shapes it. In oral cultures, such as those of the First Nations of New Brunswick, there is no such concept of authorship. Stories are communal and passed from one generation to the next to ensure their preservation.

Why Should We Read and Study First Nations Story?

  • A shared goal of European colonialism and Canada’s residential school system was to erase First Nations culture by programmes of assimilation and ghettoization. Although the goal failed, there has been a significant loss of language and oral knowledge among the First Nations of Canada, including New Brunswick. To read, study, and respect First Nations literature, then, is to recognize the value of and to help preserve an endangered culture in New Brunswick. Settler cultures are morally obligated to do so.
  • The oral traditions of First Nations contain important details of history and culture, such as the development of the Wabanaki Confederacy. Because indigenous custom and practice dictated that oral traditions were kept accurate, it is vital that we support the effort to locate and preserve those stories. (Frank Francis, for example, a Maliseet man from Tobique Point, New Brunswick, and Gabriel Thomas, a Mi’kmaq man from St. Mary, Nova Scotia, provided stories to Anglophone recorders in the late nineteenth and early twentieth centuries. Each shared a story that retold the event of Maliseet women who tricked a Mohawk war party into going over Grand Falls. Both versions were remarkably similar despite linguistic and geographic differences.) Studying the oral traditions of the First Nations of New Brunswick provides valuable insight into cultural values and histories – histories that are preserved as accurately in story as they are in our own written documents.
  • A final reason for reading First Nations story is to learn about our inheritance, and ourselves. If Canada is “a Métis civilization” (3), as John Ralston Saul claims, by which he means that many of our ways of thinking and social institutions are deeply informed by indigenous ideas and values, then we stand to learn a great deal about ourselves by studying the work of the earliest populations who greeted, sheltered, and taught us, only to be mistreated at our hands.

Literature & Analysis

“How the Mohawk War Party Was Drowned”

A Malecite chief was camping one night with his wife and daughter on an island, situated not far from where St. Leonards now is, when a war party of Mohawks came down the river in canoes. Seeing his campfire, they approached and surrounded it. Before they reached him, however, he had awakened, and, jumping to his feet, sought to escape. A fight ensued in which many Mohawks were killed, but finally, being dealt a blow with a tomahawk from behind, the Malecite chief was slain. Since they were not familiar with the river, the Mohawks decided to spare the women’s lives, that they might use them as guides. The next morning the Mohawks built a raft, on the completion of which they all embarked and proceeded down the river. They did not put ashore when night came, but drifted on. During the night all the Mohawks were asleep, and presently the raft neared the upper basin of Grand Falls. The women immediately recognized it and noiselessly slipped into the stream and swam ashore. They then ran rapidly to the falls and arrived in time to see the raft dash over the falls. They were overjoyed to see that all the Mohawks had drowned, for in wreaking vengeance on the Mohawks they probably saved the lives of their own tribesmen at the same time. The women returned to their village and narrated to their people what had happened, but they were not believed, since it was thought that they had murdered their chief. But a few days later the appearance of floating bodies in the stream, unmistakably Mohawks, gave credence to their story, and thenceforth the two women were highly respected.

Analysis of  “How the Mohawk War Party Was Drowned”

First Nations scholar Andrea Bear Nicholas wrote that oral tradition is “a priceless archive in which the knowledge necessary for survival is embedded” (7). In the Maliseet (Wolastoqiyik) story above, such knowledge, specifically of place, is essential to the women’s scheme to trick the Mohawk war party; indeed, it is because of the women’s knowledge of the area that the Mohawk warriors keep them as guides. The oral tradition of the Maliseet, then, is key to the women’s cunning and their survival. In turn, their story is added to the oral archive of both their people and the larger Wabanaki group – Silas T. Rand recorded a very similar story from a Nova Scotia Mi’kmaq man in Legends of the Micmacs (1894), which William H. Mechling printed side-by-side with this version, collected from a New Brunswick Maliseet man in Malecite Tales (1914). The similarity of both versions is important, for it indicates that the story contains important knowledge worthy of being passed through the generations and across geographic and linguistic divides.

One of the implications of this story seems to be that the women’s cleverness is superior (or at least equal) to the brute force of the men. The Mohawks’ fighting tactics are useless in identifying the oncoming waterfall, and the Maliseet chief dies despite an impressive battle against the opposing war party. Only the mother and daughter, who use their knowledge of the local geography as a weapon against their captors, survive the ordeal. Knowledge trumps force in this story.

The difference between knowledge and force may suggest a division along gender lines in Maliseet society. The women in the story are characterized as both intelligent and, at least initially, untrustworthy, for their fellow Maliseet believe they may have murdered their chief. Meanwhile, the Maliseet chief fought the Mohawk war party with no assistance from his wife and daughter, suggesting that in Maliseet society women were not typically taught how to fight. Do these differences amount to sociological evidence about gender roles in Maliseet society? Stories such as this one open these kinds of questions for consideration.

“How the Wabanaki Confederacy Began”

Long ago, the Indians were always fighting with one another. They struck one another bloodily. There were many men, women, and children who were tormented by these constant battles. At that time the wise ones thought that something had to happen. Whatever was to happen had to happen – and soon. They sent out messengers in different directions to everywhere Indians were located. Some went toward the south, some to the east, others to the southwest, others to the west. They even came to the land of the Wabanaki. Very long they journeyed, several months, before they completed their round.

Whenever they arrived, they said to the Indians, “We bring you good news.” Then there were greetings; there was a council meeting at which they made a decision. Every Indian, to the farthest boundaries, was informed that a great confederacy was going to be made. Every Indian who heard the news was happy. All were tired of not being able to do anything more about the fighting. Then every nation sent its councillors, two or more, who would go and participate in making the great confederacy, a great joint council meeting.

When all had gathered together, they began to think about what they might do. It seemed as if all were tired of how they had lived wrongly. The great chiefs said to the others, “Looking back from here the way we have come, we see that we have left bloody tracks. We see many wrongs. And as for these bloody hatchets, and bows and arrows, they must be buried forever.”

Then they all set about deciding to join with another in a confederacy. They set the date when they would meet in council.

Silently they sat for seven days. Every day, no one spoke. That was called “The Wigwam Is Silent.” Every councillor had to think about what he was going to say when they made the laws. All of them thought about how the fighting could be stopped.

Next they opened the wigwam. It was now called “Every One of Them Talks.” And during that time they began their council. Every councillor told about what had happened and why they had fought, all the ways they had tormented one another while fighting. But now it was finally thought out, and their women, their children, and their crippled ones were pitied. These had suffered as would a brave man and warrior.

When all had finished talking, they decided to make a great fence; and in addition they put in the centre a great wigwam, within the fence; and also they made a whip and placed it with their father. Then whoever disobeyed him would be whipped. Whichever of his children was within the fence – all of them had to obey him. And he always had to kindle their great fire, so that it would not burn out. This is where the Wampum Laws originated.

That fence was the Confederacy agreement. There were fourteen nations of Indians, but there were many bands. All these Indians had to go and live within the fence. If anyone did anything wrong, he had to be whipped. His parent whipped him with that whip. Whoever lived within the fence had to obey the laws there or be whipped. The wigwam within the fence meant that every one of the Indians who had made it had to live peacefully. There would be no arguing with one another again. They had to live like brothers and sisters.

The great fire in the wigwam meant that every Indian who had participated in making it would live by the fire so that his heart would not be cold again.

And their parent, he was the great chief at Kahnawake.

And the fence and the whip were the Wampum Laws. Whoever disobeyed them, the nations together had to watch him.

Then, when everything had happened, they began to work again and they made their minor laws. All these laws had to be made in wampum so that they could be read on any special occasion. They made all these different kinds of wampum: a wampum about how chiefs and warriors are made; what they do when a chief dies, and how he is buried and how all the Indians mourn for him; a greeting wampum; one for visiting; one for marriage; and others besides.

Analysis of  “How the Wabanaki Confederacy Began”

This story, translated into English from Passamaquoddy, details the formation of the Wabanaki Confederacy. The story retells historic events: the Confederacy was formed in the mid-1700s as part of a peace treaty involving the Mohawks, the Ottawas, and the Wabanaki people (including the Mi’kmaq, Maliseet, and Passamaquoddy of New Brunswick). It is, then, not just a story but also an historic account, akin to our own written accounts of such events.

The use of the Talking Circle in negotiations indicates the Wabanaki’s broader philosophy regarding governance and conflict resolution. In Maliseet and Micmac: First Nations of the Maritimes, Robert M. Leavitt explains that “In this way of conducting a meeting, everyone in turn has the opportunity to speak, going around the circle one or more times. No one person dominates the meeting [….] The Talking Circle shows the power of spoken words among people with an oral tradition” (23). That all of the delegates are given an equal opportunity to speak and participate in the negotiation process points to a deeper value of respect in this particular culture. It demonstrates too the importance of silence and reflective thought; before the delegates speak comes a mandatory period of reflection when they are required to think about their speeches and the laws that must be made. Contributions to important discussions are not to be made for the sake of contributing, but to solve the issues at hand with wisdom, consideration, and deliberation.

Clearly evident in the story is what we would term an egalitarian democratic process. Delegates are chosen, reflection and discussion ensue, and decisions are made. That the desire for peace among peoples is the issue that brings the delegates together is all the more significant. These are a people that seek and desire peace – as much for those directly affected by war (the warriors) as for those indirectly affected (women, children, and the “crippled ones”). To ensure that all delegates understand the gravity of what is at stake, a process of truth and reconciliation occurs. It is not enough to simply agree that all parties desire peace and eschew violence, but, as the modern world’s Nuremberg tribunals showed, each delegate must explain “what had happened and why they had fought, [and] all the ways they had tormented one another while fighting.” Forgiveness is only possible, knew the Wabanaki, when the horrors of war are brought into the open. Reconciliation cannot happen without truth.

The final part of the story describing the whipping is particularly interesting. Does the whipping for transgression of the Wampum laws reflect a later Christian influence? The manner in which the punishment is described next to the “father” suggests so (“Whichever of his children was within the fence – all of them had to obey him”). The careful reader will detect the language and tone of Old Testament doctrine there, such that the story is divisible into two halves.

“Glooscap and His Four Visitors”

Soon after Glooscap had left the Indians, four men agreed to go in search of him. They did not know where he was, and therefore they did not know which way to go; but they knew that while he was with them he was never very far away, and that he could always be found by those who diligently sought him. This encouraged them to undertake the search, and continue it for many months; their diligence was in the end crowned with success.

They started from their home in the spring of the year, and continued their journey and their search until winter. Nor did they stop then, but persevered until spring, and on through the ensuing season, until midsummer.

The first indication of success was the discovery of a small path in the forest. They did not know whither it led, but they followed it. It brought them out to a beautiful river; the path continued to wind along the bank of this river, until the river spread out into a broad, beautiful lake. Still following the path, which was marked by blazed tree, they at length reached an extensive point of land running far out into the lake. Looking on from the top of a hill, they saw smoke ascending through the trees, and soon came up to a large, well-constructed wigwam. They entered, and found seated on the right a man apparently about forty years old, who looked healthy and hale; on the other side a very aged woman was seated, doubled over with age, as though she were about an hundred years old. On the part of the wigwam opposite the door, and on the left-hand side, a mat was spread out, as though a third person had a seat there.

The visitors were welcomed in, and invited to seat themselves. They were not asked whence they had come, or whither they were going; the man was affable, pleasant, and evidently well pleased (wĕledaasit keseg’ooŭ).

After a while they hear the plash of a paddle in the water, and the noise of a canoe. Then they hear approaching footsteps; and soon a young man enters, well clad and of fine form and features, bringing in his weapons, and showing that he has been hunting. He addresses the old woman, calling her Keejoo (Mother), and tells her that he has brought home some game. This is, according to Indian custom, left outside for the woman to bring in, dress, and cook. The old woman, weak and tottering, rises with great difficulty, and makes her way out for the game; she manages to bring in the four or five beavers which have been killed, and commences operations among them. But she makes slow and feeble progress; then the more aged man addresses the younger, calling him Uchkeen (My younger brother), and tells him to take the work out of her hands and finish it himself. He does so; and in a short time a portion is cooked and set before the weary and hungry guests, who do ample justice to the repast.

There they remain and are hospitably entertained for about a week. They rest and recruit themselves after their long and tiresome journey. Time and travel have made sad work with their wardrobes; their clothes are torn to pieces, and their skin is peeping out in all directions.

One morning the elder man tells the younger to wash their mother’s face. (They had concluded that the old woman was the mother of these two men.) He proceeds to do as directed. As soon as he washes her face, the wrinkles vanish, and she becomes young looking and very fair. Her hair is then combed out, braided, and rolled up and fastened in a knot on the back of her head. It is no longer white, but black and glossy. He arrays her in a beautiful dress; and now, instead of being old, bent down, and decrepit, she becomes straight, active, and young. The men look on at the transformation in utter bewilderment. They perceive that whoever their host is, he is possessed, in a high degree, of supernatural powers. He has given them an illustration of what he is able to do. They are invited to walk around and survey the place. The situation is seen to be delightful in the extreme. Tall trees with luxuriant foliage, and covered with beautiful, fragrant blossoms, extend in all directions; they are so free from limbs and underbrush, and they stand in rows so straight and so far apart, that the visitors can see a long distance in every direction. The air is balmy and sweet, and everything wears the impress of health, repose, and happiness.

The owner of this blissful domain now inquires from whence they have come, and they tell him. He inquires [about] the object of their journey, and they tell him that they are in search of Glooscap; he informs them that he himself is Glooscap. He next inquires what they want him to do for them; and one by one they tell him. One says, “I am a wicked man, and have an ugly temper. I wish to be pious, meek, and holy.” “All right,” says Glooscap. The next says, “I am very poor, and find it difficult to make a living. I wish to be rich.” “Very well,” is the answer. The third says, “I am despised and hated by my people, and I wish to be loved and respected.” “So be it,” says Glooscap. The fourth says, “I am desirous of living a long time.” Glooscap shakes his head at this. “You have asked a hard thing,” he tells him. “Nevertheless, we will see what we can do for you.”

The next day they prepare a festival, and all four are feasted and sumptuously entertained. They are then taken to the top of a hill, which is very high and difficult of access. The ground is rocky, broken, and totally unfit for cultivation. On the very apex of this hill, where the sun would shine from morning until night, they halt; and Glooscap takes the man who had desired to live a long time, clasps him around the loins, lifts him from the ground, and then puts him down again, passing his clasped hands up over the man’s head, and giving him a twist or two as he moves his hands upwards, transforms him into an old gnarled cedar-tree, with limbs growing out rough and ugly all the way from the bottom. “There!” says he to the cedar-tree; “I cannot say exactly how long you will live, – the Great Spirit alone can tell that. But I think that you will not be likely to be disturbed for a good while, as no one can have any object in cutting you down; you are yourself unfit for any earthly purpose, and the land around you is of no use for cultivation. I think that you will stand there for a good, long while.”

The three companions are horror-stricken at the scene; they mourn the loss of their comrade, and shudder at their own fate, expecting that something no less terrible awaits them. But their fears are soon dispelled. Returning to the lodge, he opens his upsākŭmoode (medicine-bag), and taking out three small boxes, gives one to each, and furnishes all three with new suits of apparel, all beautifully finished and ornamented; they doff their old clothes, and put on the new ones.

He now inquires of them when they intend to go home, and in what direction their home lies; they inform him that they wish to return immediately, but are utterly ignorant of the way, – it took them one whole summer, a whole winter, and half another summer to come; their home must be very far away, and the prospect of ever again finding it is small. He smiles, and tells them that he knows the way well, having often travelled it. They request him to be their guide; he agrees to do so, and bright and early the next morning they prepare to start.

Morning dawns; Glooscap puts on his belt and leads off, and they follow. About the middle of the forenoon they can discern another mountain away in the distance, the blue outlines of which are just in sight above the horizon; the men conclude that it will take them at least a week to reach it. They push on; and to their astonishment, at about the middle of the afternoon they have reached the top of this second mountain. From the top of this they are directed to look around; and lo! all is familiar to them. They are perfectly acquainted with hill and forest, lake and river; and Glooscap says to them, “There is your own native village.” Then he leaves them, and returns. They go on, and before sunset are at home.

When they arrive no one knows them, their new and splendid robes have so changed their appearance for the better. They tell who they are, however, and are soon surrounded by old and young, male and female, who listen with amazement as they recount their adventures.

They now open their boxes, which, according to Glooscap’s directions, they have kept carefully closed till they reached their homes. The boxes contain a potent unguent; this they rub over their persons, and each one’s desire is accomplished. The one who had been despised, hated, and shunned is now rendered beautiful, well-beloved, and withal so fragrant from the perfume of the “divine anointing” that his company is sought after by all. The one who had desired abundance is blessed in that line; success attends him in the chase, and plenty daily crowns his board. And, best of all, the man who had sought for durable riches and righteousness, and the honour that cometh from above, was not disappointed in this respect; he was ever after meek and devout.

Analysis of  “Glooscap and His Four Visitors”

In Wabanaki culture, legends were used to relay teachings from one generation to the next, much like European fables. In this Mi’kmaq legend we are given insight into cultural values. Glooscap, a divine figure in Wabanaki culture, figures prominently in many Mi’kmaq, Maliseet (Wolastoqiyik), and Passamaquoddy stories. In many of those, he teaches lessons about values and behaviour, acting as a sort of gatekeeper of morality. This extends to “Glooscap and His Four Visitors,” for the wishes of three of the visitors – namely to be pious, rich, and loved – are readily granted by Glooscap, indicating the importance of those virtues to Mi’kmaq culture.

The fourth visitor’s wish is granted, too, but the wish appears to be distorted in its fulfillment. Glooscap transforms the man, who wishes to live a long time, into “an old gnarled cedar-tree, with limbs growing out rough and ugly all the way from the bottom.” The man is also rendered useless, unsuited to construction and planted in a barren field of little use to the Mi’kmaq. The implication here seems to be that the fourth visitor’s desire is greedy and unnatural, and that to live beyond a natural life span is useless to all involved.

By contrast, the others’ wishes align with Mi’kmaq values, and are thus awarded. The lucky three are improved to such a degree that they are unrecognizable on their return. Moreover, of the three lucky visitors, it is the one who yearns for piety who is the most blessed, suggesting that piety is one of the most important values in Mi’kmaq society.

Similar to “How the Wabanaki Confederacy Began,” “Glooscap and His Four Visitors” has Christian echoes. Miracles, transformations, spiritual questing, and other operations of the supernatural are present, as is the divinity of the central figure. Glooscap is both generous and punitive, a figure to be admired and obeyed. Though we can never know the extent of narrative cross-pollination between First Nations and European story, it is nevertheless fascinating to observe elements of our stories in the stories of the First Peoples of our province. It is, of course, equally possible that an aboriginal perspective is at the root of the transition from Old to New Testament narrative, so we must take care not to be smug about the direction that influence takes.

For more information on the legend of Glooscap, see its New Brunswick Literary Encyclopedia entry.

Questions and Considerations for Reflection

► What is the moral obligation of settler cultures like our own to the First Nations of Canada and New Brunswick? Is reading and circulating the oral record enough? And what are our limitations in reading that record, those stories? Can we apply our own interpretative frameworks to them, claiming that all peoples share enough likenesses that intelligibility cuts across cultures? Or can we only read these stories through our own filters, missing what is significant and where the important lessons lie? At what point, and how, do we reach out to First Nations experts and elders for guidance? Our current culture is wrestling with these questions – and struggling for footholds amidst complexities of trauma, guilt, opportunism, and mistrust. History, as a narrative itself, can be changed. Different stories can be told. But, for the people who suffered in the past, history perhaps should not be changed, and new stories perhaps should not be told. Such are the questions that engagement with this material invites.

► John Ralston Saul’s theories about Canada as “a Métis civilization” (3) also warrant reflection here. In A Fair Country: Telling Truths About Canada, Saul states that Canadian heritage, even our bloodline, is significantly aboriginal. He also claims that many of our most cherished institutions and cultural practices are informed by aboriginal values of tolerance, consensus, and the common good. In New Brunswick, where the alliance between Acadians and First Nations was especially strong, Saul’s claims warrant serious consideration. Could our “Metisness” be a bridge across which indigenous and settler peoples might meet?

► For a fruitful comparison, read Charles G.D. Roberts’ poem “How the Mohawks Set Out for Medoctec” next to “How the Mohawk War Party Was Drowned.” Roberts was a nineteenth-century New Brunswick poet who was appreciative of First Nations stories.

Strategies for Teachers

Strategy 1: The Contemporary Confederacy (“How the Wabanaki Confederacy Began”)
The British forced the Wabanaki Confederacy to disband in the 19th century, but the ties remained, and the Confederacy began gathering once again in 1993. Have students investigate how the contemporary Confederacy is run, perhaps starting with some online research and viewing clips from gatherings available on YouTube. What connections can they make between the Confederacy’s origin story, evident in the oral tale above, and its current practices and goals?

Key Stage Curriculum Outcomes:

  • Reading and Viewing: Examine how texts work to reveal and produce ideologies, identities, and positions

Strategy 2: Predict the Outcome (“Glooscap and His Four Visitors”)
Instead of reading this story to the end, ask students to pause after the men have made their requests of Glooscap, then ask the class to discuss what it thinks the outcomes will be. Will all four men end up happy? None? Some? If so, which men? Students will likely base their predictions on similar stories they are familiar with, in which people who make morally upright wishes usually come out fine, while those who make immoral or vain wishes are punished. Students will read the situation through the lens of their own culture, judging the morality of each request based on the morality tales they are accustomed to hearing. Are riches a respectable aspiration, a moral one, or is it wicked to ask for wealth? After students make their predictions, they may finish reading the story. If there is a disparity between student predictions and the story’s conclusions, initiate a discussion about how cultural values are communicated through stories.

Key Stage Curriculum Outcomes:

  • Reading and Viewing: Examine how texts work to reveal and produce ideologies, identities, and positions

Strategy 3: Fables (All stories)
In Wabanaki culture, oral legends were used to relay teachings from one generation to the next, much like European fables. Legends and fables are much “stickier” in our brains than other forms of information, and are ideal for helping people to retain important lessons. Reading these First Nations legends alongside some of Aesop’s fables would enable students to compare the style and lessons of each. Help students to identify the elements that make these lessons memorable. For example, giving abstract principles concrete form (sometimes as objects or animals), surprising the listener, keeping things short and simple (yet profound), immediately rewarding or punishing behaviours, etc. Then, challenge students to compose their own fables. They might devise a lesson that is meaningful to their place or culture, or they might write from proverb prompts, such as “the early bird catches the worm” or “familiarity breeds contempt.”

Key Stage Curriculum Outcomes:

  • Writing and Representing: Produce writing and other forms of representation characterized by increasing complexity of thought, structure, and conventions

Further Reading

Hulan, Renée, and Renate Eigenbrod, eds. Aboriginal Oral Traditions: Theory, Practice, Ethics. Halifax: Fernwood Publishing, 2008.

Leavitt, Robert M. Maliseet and Micmac: First Nations of the Maritimes. Fredericton: New Ireland Press, 1995.

Mechling, William H. Malecite Tales. Ottawa: Government Printing Bureau, 1914.

Bear Nicholas, Andrea. “The Assault on Aboriginal Oral Traditions: Past and Present.” Aboriginal Oral Traditions: Theory, Practice, Ethics. Ed. Renée Hulan and Renate Eigenbrod. Halifax, NS: Fernwood, 2008. 7-43.

Rand, Silas T. Legends of the Micmacs. 1894. New York: Johnson Reprint Corporation, 1971.

Roberts, Charles G.D. “How the Mohawks Set Out for Medoctec.” Songs of the Common Day and Ave!: An Ode for the Shelley Centenary. Toronto: William Briggs, 1893. 95-99.

Saul, John Ralston. A Fair Country: Telling Truths About Canada. Toronto: Viking, 2008.


The oral stories above have been in the Canadian public domain for centuries. As such, they are not protected by copyright in Canada. However, they may be under copyright in some countries. Readers outside Canada must comply with the respective copyright laws of the country in which they live.

“How the Mohawk War Party Was Drowned” appears in William H. Mechling’s Malecite Tales. Ottawa: Government Printing Bureau, 1914. 106. “How The Wabanaki Confederacy Began” appears in Robert M. Leavitt’s Maliseet and Micmac: First Nations of the Maritimes. Fredericton: New Ireland Press, 1995. 23-24. “Glooscap and His Four Visitors” appears in Silas T. Rand’s Legends of the Micmacs. 1894. New York: Johnson Reprint Corporation, 1971. 253-258.

All contents except for poetry and fiction copyright © Tony Tremblay, James W. Johnson, and Alexandra Cogswell.