How Glooskap Sang Through the Rapids and Found a New Home
Glooskap summoned his wolves, whom he had not seen in many years. "We are going on a long journey," he told them. "It must be kept a secret. I don't want people to see me unhappy."
"What is our destination?" the wolves asked.
"I can tell you what I want," said Glooskap, "but I can't tell you where. I want you both to fly to every corner of the Earth. Find me a house to live in. It must be near a river, where fish are plentiful and nobody will come to me with their woes. Things are fine in the world now, the creatures who would harm mankind are all dead or on the moon. It is up to people to take care of themselves. I need a rest."
The wolves flew off and were gone for a year. Glooskap waited in his cave.
Finally, the two wolves returned. "We have found your house," they said. "But it is not a simple matter to get to it."
"Let's go," Glooskap said happily, "I've been waiting. I'm ready."
The wolves led Glooskap to a river he had never seen before. On the sandy bank was his canoe. "Old friend," he said to the canoe, "we have been through many adventures together. Now we are about to go through yet another."
Glooskap climbed in. He tied each of his wolves to a canoe slat. He took up his oar and started downstream. The day was clear and sunny, the water was calm, with only harmless whirlpools and ripples in the shallows. Glooskap glided his canoe along with little effort.
"Why not practice your wild-rapids song?" the wolves suggested. "It is your most powerful song."
"Look around you," Glooskap said, with a wide sweep of his hand. "There's no need for my rapids song."
"This is a strange and powerful river," the wolves warned Glooskap. "We traveled on it for many days. We almost drowned in this river. It has many deceptions. It plays many tricks."
"Pipe down," Glooskap said, laughing. "I'm enjoying my escape from the worries of mankind."
Glooskap closed his eyes and let the river breeze wash over his face. He leaned back and let his canoe drift with the current.
But when he opened his eyes, Glooskap saw ten vultures circling above. "Am I dead?" he asked his wolves. "Have I died and am I traveling to the land of ghosts and bones?"
"No," said one wolf, "those are death-birds all right, but you have not died, great Glooskap. Those vultures are waiting for us to collide into jagged rocks and capsize. They are waiting for us to wash ashore, so they can land on our faces and tear us apart with their beaks."
"But I see no jagged rocks!" said Glooskap.
"Please," the wolves begged, "sing your wild-rapids song."
"No," said Glooskap, "I'm enjoying the view. You wolves worry far too much. You've got to learn to enjoy life."
"The house we picked out is truly peaceful," one wolf replied. "We will enjoy life greatly once we are there."
"Sing me a song," Glooskap said. "If you insist on singing, you sing. Make it a song of great enthusiasm. A song of quiet waters, and no vultures in the sky."
"All right," said the wolves, "we will sing."
But when the wolves began to sing, they sang Glooskap's wild-rapids song! They howled it with great fear in their hearts.
Glooskap was annoyed. "Stop!" he said, "that's my song! That's my most magical song. Only I can sing it. You're ruining the song!"
"Teach us, then," the wolves pleaded.
With much pride, Glooskap puffed out his chest, took a deep breath, and sang his powerful wild-rapids song. The song had in it the names of every Indian and animal who had ever drowned. As he sang, Glooskap noticed a peculiar thing. With each name in the song, a new vulture appeared in the sky!
Finally, the vultures were so numerous that they blocked out the sun.
Now even Glooskap grew worried.
When the sun vanished entirely behind this thick cloud of vultures, Glooskap and his wolves suddenly found themselves amid towering cliffs. The cliffs closed in on them, and the river rushed them toward thundering white-water rapids just up ahead. Glooskap clung to his wolves. Even his magic canoe felt flimsy in the turbulence. Every so often the sun flashed through a vulture's wing feathers, reflecting off the rocks and blinding Glooskap. "What is going on?" Glooskap cried.
"Sing your rapids song!" the wolves shouted. "Sing! Sing!"
The canoe slid forward into a treacherous gulch. The churning of the rapids became so loud that Glooskap could not even hear his own singing. The canoe jumped and spun sideways, then tumbled down a waterfall, which led to a second waterfall, then a third, a fourth, and a fifth. "We are falling off the world!" Glooskap thought, but he did not say it. He sang as loudly as he could.
They landed below the last waterfall, and saw up ahead an even more menacing sight. Protruding from the turbulent rapids were rocks that stood like pointy teeth!
Glooskap could hear the wolves' hearts pounding with wild alarm.
"Glooskap," the wolves said, "close your eyes and imagine a well-built house. It is made of logs and there is a fire in the fireplace and a good meal on the table. Life there is peaceful, terrible rapids are only a memory."
Glooskap tightly closed his eyes. "I see it!" he said. "I see my house! And you are right there with me, my wolves!"
"Now sing, Glooskap!" the wolves said. "Sing as you have never sung before. Sing from all your experiences, from all your adventures, from all your days on the Earth!"
And suddenly, the canoe passed through the dangerous ravine and out into the sunlight. The river here was cold and deep, and the speckled stones that lay at the bottom had traveled as far as Glooskap and his wolves had. Glooskap peered into the water and said to the stones, "I feel like I have known you my whole life."
"Look!" the wolves said.
Glooskap shaded his eyes from the sun and saw his house, there on a knoll not far from the riverbank. "It is just as you described it," he said to the wolves. And he began to weep.
Since that day many people have tried to find Glooskap's house, but Glooskap and his wolves are the only ones who know where it is. There is no map to Glooskap's house.
Glooskap is happy. He spends his days fishing and running with his wolves. At night, after supper, Glooskap and his wolves talk of their adventures.
"We have done much good," Glooskap likes to say.
Glooskap is the size of any Indian man now, that is true. But if one of his wolves should venture far and wide, returning with the news that mankind is in trouble, he will become a giant again, and will hazard the mystical river with his wolves in order to help his people.