So said Simmo to me one night in
explaining why the loon's cry is so wild and sad.
Clote Scarpe, by the way, is the legendary hero, the Hiawatha of the
northern Indians. Long ago he lived on the Wollastook, and ruled the
animals, which all lived peaceably together, understanding each
other's language, and "nobody ever ate anybody," as Simmo says. But
when Clote Scarpe went away they quarreled, and Lhoks the panther and
Nemox the fisher took to killing the other animals. Malsun the wolf
soon followed, and ate all he killed; and Meeko the squirrel, who
always makes all the mischief he can, set even the peaceable animals
by the ears, so that they feared and distrusted each other. Then they
scattered through the big woods, living each one for himself; and now
the strong ones kill the weak, and nobody understands anybody any
more.
There were no dogs in those days. Hukweem was Clote Scarpe's hunting
companion when he hunted the great evil beasts that disturbed the
wilderness; and Hukweem alone, of all the birds and animals, remained
true to his master.
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