very far to the North wished to cross a bay, a great distance, from one
point to another. As he was stepping into his canoe he saw a man with
two dogs,--one black and one white,--who asked to be set across. The
Indian said, "You may go, but what will become of your dogs?" Then the
stranger replied, "Let them go round by land." "Nay," replied the
Indian, "that is much too far." But the stranger saying nothing, he put
him across. And as they reached the landing place there stood the dogs.
But when he turned his head to address the man, he was gone. So he said
to himself, "I have seen Glooskap."

Yet again,--but this was not so many years ago,--far in the North there
were at a certain place many Indians assembled. And there was a
frightful commotion, caused by the ground heaving and rumbling; the
rocks shook and fell, they were greatly alarmed, and lo! Glooskap stood
before them, and said, "I go away now, but I shall return again; when
you feel the ground tremble, then know it is I." So they will know when
the last great war is to be, for then Glooskap will make the ground
shake with an awful noise.

Glooskap was no friend of the Beavers; he slew many of them. Up on the
Tobaic are two salt-water rocks (that is, rocks by the ocean-side, near
a freshwater stream). The Great Beaver, standing there one day, was
seen by Glooskap miles away, who had forbidden him that place. Then
picking up a large rock where he stood by the shore, he threw it all
that distance at the Beaver, who indeed dodged it; but when another
came, the beast ran into a mountain, and has never come forth to this
day. But the rocks which the master threw are yet to be seen.

This very interesting tradition was taken down by Mrs. W. Wallace Brown
from a very old Passamaquoddy Indian woman named Molly Sepsis, who