This is what the hero of this story gets by favor of the
giant.
It may be observed that in this tale the Indian cannot explain to his
wife what he nevertheless perfectly understands; that is, the exact
nature of a _Megumoowessoo_. The giant, by speaking of his own
kingdom, gives the true key of the whole mystery. He has attained magic
power so far as one can exercise it in this life. Like Glooskap he can
be, or unlike him prefers, to be habitually, a giant. He has battled
with the Chenoo and Kookwess; he has, like Hercules, fulfilled his
mission; and now he departs for his own realm, that of the
_Megumoowessoo_, as Arthur went to Fairy-Land, as Buddha to the
unknown Nirvana,--that is, to something beyond the conception of poet
or theosophist.
I suspect that the period of seven years, and again of three years, had
been employed by the Indian in preparing himself by penance for
_m'teoulin_. The respect of the Indians for the number
_seven_ is so remarkable, that if it be true that _Deus
imparibus numeris gaudet_, they are in that respect, at least, like
deities. Whenever _seven_ or a white bear's skin occurs in these
tales, there always lies hidden a magical mystery.
It is not the least remarkable feature of this tale that it abounds in
that quiet small humor which recalls the adventures of Captain Lemuel
Gulliver. The Indian, like, the Norseman, was such an _implicit_
believer in his own myths, and he had evolved them so entirely from
himself without borrowing,--since we may regard him as one in this
respect with the Eskimo,--that no human characteristic detracted from
the dignity of the Manitou.
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