but by a blow from a pine-root, that his life would end.

[Illustration: Glooskap killing his brother the wolf]

Then the false man led his brother another day far into the forest to
hunt, and, while he again slept, smote him on the head with a pine-root.
But Glooskap arose unharmed, drove Malsumsis away into the woods,
sat down by the brook-side, and thinking aver all that had happened,
said, "Nothing but a flowering rush can kill me." But the Beaver, who
was hidden among the reeds, heard this, and hastening to Malsumsis told
him the secret of his brother's life. For this Malsumsis promised to
bestow on Beaver whatever he should ask; but when the latter wished for
wings like a pigeon, the warrior laughed, and scornfully said, "Get
thee hence; thou with a tail like a file, what need hast thou of
wings?"

Then the Beaver was angry, and went forth to the camp of Glooskap, to
whom he told what he had done. Therefore Glooskap arose in sorrow and
in anger, took a fern-root, sought Malsumsis in the deep, dark forest,
and smote him so that he fell down dead. And Glooskap sang a song over
him and lamented.

The Beaver and the Owl and the Squirrel, for what they did and as they
did it, all come again into these stories; but Malsumsis, being dead,
was turned into the Shick-shoe mountains in the Gaspe peninsula.

For this chapter and parts of others I am indebted to the narrative of
a Micmac Indian, taken down by Mr. Edward Jock; also to another version
in the Rand MS. The story is, in the main-points, similar to that given
by David Cusick in his History of the Six Nations, of Enigorio the Good