[Footnote:
The _Amarok_ of the Eskimo.]
But that which Pulowech produced was quite as different from a dog as
was the _Weisum_; for it was only _Meeko_, a poor little
squirrel, and half dead at that, which he laid carefully before the
fire that it might revive. [Footnote: In another version of this story,
the savage stranger puts up a real dog against the squirrel; and in the
story of Glooskap, it is that great man who makes the squirrel great or
small.] But anon it began to revive, and grew until it was well-nigh as
great as the _Weisum_. And then there was indeed a battle as of
devils and witches; he who had been a hundred miles away might have
heard it.
But anon it seemed that the _Weisum_ was getting the better of
_Meeko_. Then Pulowech did but tap the squirrel on the back, when
lo! she brought forth two other squirrels, and these grew in an instant
to be as large as their mother, and the three were soon too many for
the beast. "Ho! call off your dogs!" cried the _boo-oin_; "you
have beaten. But spare mine, since, indeed, he does not belong to me,
but to my grandmother, who is very fond of him." [Footnote: This
trivial episode of begging a call-off seems to have deeply impressed
the Indians, who are generally sporting-men, since I find it in both
the Passamaquoddy and Micmac versions of the legend.]
Pulowech, who held to his own in all things like a wolverine, was the
last man alive to think of, and he encouraged the squirrels until they
had torn the _Weisum_ to rags.
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