Haida texts and myths — Inside the Classic
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′nᴀ lᴀ sū′udas g̣ᴀn l’ u′nsᴀtdᴀłs. Giên x̣āl lᴀ sʟꜝgᴀtx̣ai′as la g̣ᴀn łg̣ēt g̣ᴀn lᴀ qꜝā′dᴀñᴀ′s giên nᴀñ sg̣oā′na î′sîñ tcꜝidalᴀ′ñ g̣ᴀn la qꜝā′dᴀñᴀs. La g̣e′iłgīdaga′-i ʟ̣ū tcꜝidalᴀña′-i sqꜝa′stîñ dᴀ′ñat lᴀ gi lᴀ xasʟa′si. At l’ gudᴀña′-i lā′gasi.
Giên l’ xē′tet-tcꜝî′nłgoañgas. L’ stī′łʟꜝxaga′-i ʟ̣ū kꜝia′lu a-u′ñ gi lᴀ kꜝu′sʟtcꜝias. L’ a′og̣a l’ tā′gᴀs. Ga-i dag̣ala′-ig̣a î′sîn l’ xetî′t-tcꜝînłgoañgai′yas. Łgitg̣u′n awu′ñ gi lᴀ ʟ̣sʟtcꜝai′yañ wᴀnsū′ga. L’ a′og̣a l’ tā′gᴀs. Giên dag̣ala′-ig̣a î′sîñ l’ xete′t-tcꜝînłgoa′ñgaias. Dā′tcꜝî lᴀ ʟ̣′sʟtcꜝas. Giên ᴀ′ñg̣a lᴀ la ʟꜝsta′si. Lᴀ la qꜝā′g̣adas. Lᴀ la qoyā′das. Giên dag̣ala′-ig̣a ê′sîñ kꜝū′tcꜝix̣u lᴀ ʟ̣′sʟtcꜝias. La ê′sîñ ᴀ′ñg̣a lᴀ ʟꜝ′stas. La ê′sîñ lᴀ qꜝa′g̣adas. Giên dag̣ala′-ig̣a î′sîñ ʟꜝai′ʟꜝai lᴀ ʟ̣′sʟtcꜝias. La ê′sîñ lᴀ ʟꜝ′stas giên lᴀ la qꜝa′g̣adas. Ga-i dag̣ala′-ig̣a î′sîñ sʟū′djag̣ada′ñ lᴀ ʟ̣′sʟtcꜝias. La ê′sîñ lᴀ ʟꜝ′stas. La ê′sîñ la qꜝa′g̣adas.
Gaatxᴀ′nhao l’ a′og̣a g̣a nᴀñ kiłgula′s. Nā′ga-i î′sîñ łqeg̣otcꜝî′lgasi. Giên sîñg̣aʟ̣a′nas giên nā′ga-i lā′gasi g̣ei lᴀ skî′nxaasi. Nā′ga-i kꜝuxa′oxᴀña-i qꜝeida′-i qeauldā′ñᴀsi. Wᴀtg̣adagā′ñ hao la g̣ᴀn agᴀ′ñ g̣ōñag̣ā′g̣aʟꜝxadai′yañ wᴀnsū′ga. L’ qꜝałā′was giên hᴀn lᴀ la sū′udas “Ha-i ʟ̣ag̣ᴀ′l kî′lsʟa-i łqên halᴀ′ dᴀ′ñgi ł gî′ñg̣atdjañ.” Giê′nhao la g̣a lᴀ qā′gᴀs giên l’ xā′ña la yanxā′gīda′das. “Ha-i, kî′lsʟa-i łqên, qꜝadᴀx̣uā′ ła sā′anaqꜝa′osg̣a.” Giên gañā′xᴀn lᴀ isî′si gañā′xᴀn sîn-laa′was.
Gaatxᴀ′nhao g̣ō′ñg̣añ dᴀ′ñat la xa′o-însā′ñañ wᴀnsū′ga. “Na′o-gixa′ogaiyas tꜝalᴀ′ñ dᴀñtcꜝīstā′sga.” Giên l’ xa′o-îns gut lᴀ la dᴀñtcꜝîstᴀtꜝālas. Giên Na-giū′ g̣a lᴀ gei′sʟg̣eiłgīgᴀs. G̣ō′ñg̣añ sqe′ugug̣awasī′ g̣a lᴀ tcꜝā′ñgîñgîñᴀs. Tcꜝī′g̣oya-i la qea′qꜝa′-idā′ldi qa′odi hᴀn l’ sī′wus “Ha-i, g̣ō′ñga-i, ‘Wasū′g̣a qꜝola′-i ū gudał′dadiañ,’ hᴀn ᴀ sū.” Gañā′xᴀn l’ g̣ō′ñg̣a sī′wusi. “‘Gwai′îs g̣adō′ gudā′lskiänᴀsi gudał′dadiañ,’ hᴀn ᴀ sū, g̣ō′ñga-i.” Giên gañā′xᴀn lᴀ sī′wusi. “‘Tcꜝî′nła-i-xā′stᴀwañ, ī′ʟꜝgas. G̣a ła gūdᴀña′ñ łg̣ā′gîñ,’ hᴀn ᴀ sū, g̣ō′ñga-i.” Giên gañā′xᴀn lᴀ sī′wusi. “‘Djū tꜝā′x̣ustᴀ qayū′djiwa-i ū gudał′dadiañ’, hᴀn ᴀ sū, g̣ō′ñga-i.” Gañā′xᴀn lᴀ sū′daiyag̣ᴀni. “‘Łg̣ā′xets nᴀñ xatā′ndals yū′djiwa-i gudał′dadiañ,’ hᴀn ᴀ sū g̣ō′ñga-i.” Gañā′xᴀn lᴀ sū. Giên hᴀn î′sîñ “‘G̣ō′dansda-xᴀ′ñadas a′thao dā qea′tcigīdiᴀñ,’ hᴀn ᴀ sū, g̣ō′ñga-i.” “‘X̣ā′mᴀłtᴀgoañ yū′djiwa-i ū gūdał′dadiañ,’ hᴀn ᴀ sū, g̣ō′ñga-i.” Gañā′xᴀn lᴀ sū′usi.
Ā′sga-i gañā′ñ lᴀ sugī′ga-i ʟ̣ū lᴀ gu lᴀ qꜝa′oʟꜝxai′yañ wᴀnsū′ga. A′asîñ a′si gwai′ya-i g̣adō′ lᴀ la g̣ᴀlg̣ā′łgᴀłdā′asi. ʟua′-i djī′ina ᴀ′ñg̣a lᴀ sqotskidā′ñañ wᴀnsū′ga. “Wᴀtg̣adagā′ñ dᴀñ ʟ′g̣ołg̣ag̣ᴀn. Si′a ła agᴀ′ñ xaᴀ′ndju” hᴀn lᴀ la sū′udas. Giwa′i g̣a lᴀ ga g̣ᴀlgā′isʟasi. Î′sîñê′sîñ gwai′a-i g̣adō′xa lᴀ ga g̣ᴀlgā′łg̣ᴀldaasi.
Giên î′sîñ gā′-isʟia-i ʟ̣ū lᴀ gi lᴀ dᴀ′ñg̣aawas. Gū′gus tꜝag̣anē′ la dᴀñᴀ′ndjîʟꜝxas. L’ kꜝū′dᴀ gut ñā′lagᴀs. L’ łtᴀ′lgaga′-i gutg̣ᴀ′n qꜝa′-idasi. Xagwa′-i lᴀ īʟ̣x̣idā′ñ wᴀnsū′gᴀñ. ʟua′-i lā′g̣a sta′ʼgasi giên gutg̣e′istᴀ lᴀ dᴀñgī′djiʟꜝxagᴀ′ñᴀsi. Lᴀ īʟ̣ qa′o⁺di ʟua′-i lā′g̣a sta′ʼgasi giên lᴀ la ʟ′sʟgias.
Giên stᴀ lᴀ ʟuqā′-ig̣oasi. Djā′g̣ᴀñ gi xagwa′-i lᴀ ʟgua′si. L’ djā′g̣a qꜝā′gada′si. Giê′nhao î′sîñ gitg̣ᴀ′ñ g̣ᴀn lᴀ g̣ag̣oyā′ñañ wᴀnsū′ga. Giên î′sîñ lᴀ gi lᴀ gî′ñg̣atgī′ga-i ʟ̣ū lᴀ la sū′udas “Ha-i, kî′lsʟa-i łqên, adjx̣uā′ dᴀñ qā′g̣alᴀñ naxa′ns ła qî′ñg̣a.” Giê′nhao g̣a lᴀ qā′-idᴀñ wᴀnsū′ga. Lnagā′-i gia′ogi lᴀ qꜝa′oʟꜝxasi. L’ qꜝa′o-u qa′odi la g̣ei ʟꜝ qē′xas. Lᴀ ʟꜝ da′ox̣ides. Ā′hao ʟꜝ lag̣ᴀ′n ʟꜝ u′nsᴀtdaalañ wᴀnsū′ga. Giên gagū′ l’ a′og̣a nā′gᴀs g̣a î′sîñ ʟꜝ tcꜝig̣ahū′nᴀñᴀs.
Gu lᴀ naxā′ñg̣o qao′⁺di datcꜝa′-i qꜝᴀl dᴀ′ñat ᴀ′ñg̣a la qax̣uā′lañ wᴀnsū′ga. “Ā′wa-i, dī łᴀ qē′xañ” hᴀn l’ sī′wus. Giên l’ a′og̣a l’ ʟ̣g̣a qax̣uā′las. Tᴀñg̣ ona′-i g̣a l’ qwē′g̣awa-qꜝō′łdjiwas. L’ a′og̣a qe′iñᴀs. Giên l’ qatcꜝai′as giên a-u′ñ at lᴀ kiä′nᴀñᴀs “Dī gua lā′ga.” “Ā′ña, kî′lsʟa-i łqên, dᴀñ lā′gᴀñ.” Giê′nhao ʟꜝai′ʟꜝga-i qꜝᴀl î′sîñ lᴀ îsdai′yañ wᴀnsū′ga. Giên hᴀn ā′wuñ lᴀ sū′udas “Dī ła qē′xᴀñ.” Giên l’ g̣ō′ʟ̣ag̣a la qax̣uā′lasi. Tᴀñg̣ona′-i g̣a l’ gī′tg̣a g̣ō′łg̣ał qꜝo′łdjiwasi. Giên l’ qatcꜝai′as giên hᴀn l’ sī′wus “Ā′wa-i dī gua lā′ga.” “Ā′ña, kîlsʟa′-i łqên, dᴀñ lā′gᴀñ.” Giên sʟudjā′g̣adᴀña-i î′sîñ dᴀ′ñat lᴀ qā′x̣ułs giên hᴀn l’ sī′wus “Ā′wa-i dī łᴀ qē′xᴀñ.” Giên l’ ʟ̣g̣a lᴀ qā′x̣ułs. “Tᴀñg̣ona′-i g̣a sᴀ′gui l’ sg̣ētłtᴀ′px̣iañwas.” Gitg̣ᴀ′ñ g̣a agᴀ′ñ lᴀ dᴀ′ñgidᴀs. Giên l’ qatcꜝia′-i ʟ̣ū l’ sī′wus “Ā′wa-i, dī′gua lā′ga.” “Ā′ña, kîlsʟa′-i łqên, sg̣ā′na-qeda′s dᴀ′ñg̣a qea′xolgîlgā′nsga.”
Giên hᴀn l’ sī′wus “Ā′wa-i ʟan dᴀñ ł qî′ñga. Dᴀñ stᴀ ł qā′-ida. Qꜝanᴀ′ñ tꜝa′g̣a ł qꜝa′o-uła′s giên gᴀm ʟgu stᴀ x̣utskîtg̣ᴀñgā′nsga. Dīgi siîñā′g̣asga. Dī g̣ō′ñg̣a dī gi gîñg̣e′idᴀñ gañā′ñ g̣etuła′s giên gᴀm ʟgu stᴀ x̣ū′tskîtg̣ᴀñgā′nsga. Xā′-ides dī g̣ei xełā′ñ g̣egīdᴀg̣ā′nsga.” “Haku, kîlsʟa′-i łqên, dā qꜝa′o-ułas giên łtᴀ′ng̣o dᴀñ gi ł gug̣a′osgadag̣ā′nsga.”
Giên awu′ñstᴀ l’ qā′-idañ wᴀnsū′ga. L’ g̣ō′ñg̣a ê′sîñ lᴀ stᴀ qā′-itx̣idie′s giên hᴀn sī′wus: “Ła ê′sîñ dᴀ′ñstᴀ qā′-ida. G̣ᴀ′nʟ̣a-i qā′sg̣a łᴀ agᴀ′ñ ʟg̣ag̣e′iłdañ. Dᴀñ ł qîñg̣ā′nsga giên gī′tg̣ᴀñ î′sîñ ł qîñg̣ā′-nsga.” Giên la ê′sîñ qā′-idañ wᴀnsū′ga.
Giên sîñx̣ia′s giên l’ qā′g̣a da′og̣anagas g̣ᴀn lᴀ g̣ā′g̣oyîñᴀs. Giên hᴀn lᴀ la sū′udas “Da′g̣ał ʟꜝ xa′og̣agia′-i giê′nᴀ dadjî′ñ ʟa′ʼga gut êsî′ñ giê′nᴀ ā′la-i î′sîñ ᴀ′ñg̣a ʟa′ʼdañ.” Giên dag̣ala′-ig̣a sîñg̣a′-ixᴀn ʟꜝ xa′og̣agiäsi. Giên lnagā′-i gia′ogi lᴀ qꜝaokū′djîłsi. Giên łqēdaga′-i ᴀ′ñg̣a lᴀ dᴀñgī′stałia′-i ʟ̣ū tā′djîłsg̣as. Sa′nᴀñ lᴀ îstag̣ᴀ′nsi kꜝea′ł tadja′-i wai′gi qä′skidesi. Kꜝō′lᴀñ ʟ̣ū lᴀ dᴀñgī′stᴀłia′-i ʟ̣ū yan djiłī′xᴀn l’ xā′sʟsg̣a′si. Giên nᴀñ dadjî′ñg̣aʟa′ʼgas wa′nwa-i gi sg̣u′nxᴀn lᴀ xā′g̣atsg̣as giên lᴀ la qā′g̣ᴀndag̣a′ñ wᴀnsū′ga l’ djā′g̣a lᴀ gi giaî′nxaiyag̣ᴀn g̣aga′n ᴀ. Ḷla′-djat hao idjā′ñ wᴀnsū′ga.
Giê′nhao lgudja′-i at ʟāwa′-i ᴀ′ñg̣a la îsta′si giên l’ qax̣iagiā′lᴀñ wᴀnsū′ga g̣ᴀ′nʟ̣a-i qā′łi g̣ei ᴀ. Giê′nhao gu agᴀ′ñ lᴀ ʟg̣ā′g̣eiłda′asi. Giên lᴀ gut kꜝīwā′gas. Lᴀ ʟꜝ tꜝasê′lgᴀñᴀñ l’ sū′us giên dī′tgi ê′sîñ l’ g̣ō′dalgialañ wᴀnsū′ga. Ga′-iguhao l’ tcī′ag̣eiłsg̣oā′nañañ wᴀnsū′ga. L’ gī′tg̣a qꜝa′o-ułas giên tꜝa′g̣ao kꜝᴀ′mdᴀla gī lᴀ gug̣a′oskadagᴀ′ñᴀs. Ga′-ihao łtᴀ′ng̣o īdjā′g̣ᴀn.
HOW MASTER-CARPENTER BEGAN MAKING A CANOE TO WAR WITH SOUTHEAST
[Told by Abraham of Those-born-at Qꜝā′dᴀsg̣o-creek.]
Master-carpenter at a steep place at one end of the town of Sqa-i began making a canoe in which to war with Southeast. [35] The first one that he finished at the edge of the steep place he threw down into the water. It split. After that he made another. He made the measurement of thickness of this one greater than for the one he had made before. And when he finished it he threw it into the water. That, too, split apart. After that he made another one and had it thick. When he threw that in it also split apart. After that he made still another and had that also very thick. When he threw that in it broke also.
Before all this happened he tried to wedge apart two canoes from one log. Then Greatest Fool came to him. And he told him how to use his wedges. He told him to use bent ones. When he did so, they came apart. In that way he made two [at once]. [36]
When he could not accomplish it (i.e., make a canoe that would not break) he let the limbs stay on one and threw it off from the cliff. It went down safely. Then he thought it good and set out to find him (Southeast). He knew where he lived.
Then he came floating above him. And he challenged him. After he had called to him for a while a current flowed out rapidly. A large amount of seaweed came floating with it. After it came his matted hair. When he came to the surface he seized him. When he started off with him (Southeast) he called for his nephews.
First he called Red-storm-cloud. The neighboring sky became red. This passed away from it quickly. At once the wind blew strong. [37] While this wind was blowing very hard he called for Taker-off-of-the-tree-tops. The wind immediately blew harder. The tree tops that were blown about fell close to him. All that time he spit medicine upon himself.
For the next one he called Pebble-rattler. At once the wind was further increased. The waves came rolling in. The stones made a noise. The sand blew about. All that time he spit medicine upon the things he had in his canoe. At that time he called for Maker-of-the-thick-sea-mist. There were many of them (the nephews). Part have been forgotten. [38] By and by he called for Tidal-wave. And when he came he (Master-carpenter) was covered with water. All that time he spit medicine upon his things. At that time they were too much for him.
Then he got him ashore. Some of the old people said that he (Southeast) [39] died.
His mother was named “To-morrow” (Dā′g̣ał). [40] For that reason they were accustomed not to say dā′g̣ał; else they said there would be bad weather, so they called dā′g̣ał, ałg̣alā′g̣a.
This little story seems to have been very well known throughout the Queen Charlotte islands. What seems to have been a longer version was known to old Chief Edenshaw at Masset. This one was related to my informant by an old man of the Ninstints people, now dead.
WATG̣ADAGĀ′Ñ XE-Ū′GI QA-IDA′O G̣AN LUDĀ′ÑGAX̣IDAG̣AN
Sqa-i lnagā′-i gia′ogi nᴀñ stā′las gū′hao Wᴀtg̣adagā′ñ Xeū gi qa-ida′o g̣ᴀn ʟuʟ′g̣ołg̣ax̣idag̣ᴀn. Stā′la-i qo′lgi nᴀñ la g̣eiłgī′gaʟā′gañas stā′la-i gū′stᴀ lᴀ kidagai′yag̣ᴀn. Gu′tstᴀ l’ g̣atg̣adatcꜝā′g̣ᴀn. Ga′-istᴀ î′sîñ nᴀñ lᴀ ʟ′g̣ołg̣asi. Ku′ng̣ada lā′na la łkiä′gag̣ᴀn ī′la lᴀ la kꜝwidai′yag̣ᴀn. Giê′nhao la êsî′ñ lᴀ g̣eiłgīdā′asi giên lᴀ la kidagai′yag̣ᴀn. La ê′sîñ gu′tstᴀ g̣ā′tsqadᴀtcꜝag̣ᴀn. Ga′-istᴀ î′sîñ nᴀñ lᴀ ʟ′g̣ołg̣asi giên lᴀ la gañadai′yag̣ᴀn. La êsî′ñ lᴀ kī′dagaiya′-i ʟ̣ū gu′tstᴀ g̣atsqā′dᴀtcꜝag̣ᴀn. Ga′-istᴀ î′sîñ nᴀñ lᴀ ʟ′g̣ołg̣asi giên la êsî′ñ lᴀ gā′ñayū′ᴀndaiyag̣ᴀn. La êsî′ñ lᴀ kꜝā′dᴀgaiya-i ʟ̣ū la êsî′ñ xosdai′yag̣ᴀn.
Ku′ng̣ᴀstᴀhao gutg̣e′istᴀ nᴀñ lᴀ djîtgī′stᴀtꜝadjî′ndies. Ḷū′hao Sʟi′ñgutg̣a-sg̣ā′na lag̣ᴀ′nstᴀ qaʟꜝxai′yag̣ᴀn. Ḷū′hao ʟꜝua′-i lā′g̣a lᴀ kîlg̣ołg̣ai′yag̣ᴀn. Giê′nhao ga skᴀ′pdᴀla at lᴀ la waxā′lag̣ᴀn. Gañā′xᴀn lᴀ ūga′-i ʟ̣ū′hao gutg̣e′istᴀ l’ g̣astai′yag̣ᴀn. Giê′nhao lā′g̣a l’ g̣astî′ñg̣ea′lag̣ᴀn.
ʟ′g̣ołg̣aga-i g̣adō′ la g̣etsgia′-i ʟ̣ū nᴀñ ʟā′dji wa g̣ei lᴀ qꜝa′oda dᴀ′ñat stā′la-i qu′lgustᴀ lᴀ la kī′dagaiyag̣ᴀn. Gī′nᴀ tcꜝā′łłg̣asgidᴀs gañā′ñ l’ îsgai′yag̣ᴀn. Giê′nhao lᴀ la lā′daiyag̣ᴀn giên lᴀ gū′g̣a lᴀ la tā′ng̣ax̣idag̣ᴀn. Gia′gu lᴀ na′as g̣ᴀn l’ u′nsᴀdag̣ᴀn.
Giê′nhao lᴀ sī′g̣a lᴀ gā′-isʟʟꜝxaiyag̣ᴀn. Giê′nhao lᴀ la gīnᴀ′ñx̣îtgiañag̣ᴀn. Lᴀ la gīnᴀ′ñgîñ qa′o⁺dihao tcī′wa-i ʟꜝa koaʼg̣ā′ʟꜝxaʟāgañag̣ᴀn. Ga′-ihao ñalg̣aᴀ′nda yū′dᴀla dā′lłg̣ᴀłdᴀʟꜝxaiyag̣ᴀn. Ḷg̣a skatcꜝigila′-i î′sîñ lā′g̣a dā′lłgᴀłdaʟꜝxaiyag̣ᴀni. L’ ᴀ′ntcꜝîʟꜝxaga-i ʟ̣ū′hao lᴀ lᴀ g̣ē′tg̣aʟ̣daiyag̣ᴀn. Ḷū′hao lᴀ dᴀ′ñat lᴀ ʟuqāʼ-itx̣îtgiañga-i ʟ̣ū tā′x̣ulᴀñ gi lᴀ kiä′gañag̣ᴀn.
Sg̣etxaa′łda gi lᴀ kia′gañʟā′gañag̣ᴀn. A′txᴀn qōyaqag̣ᴀ′n sg̣ē′dułdaiasi. Wa′guxᴀn g̣ā′gugag̣ᴀni. Gañā′xᴀn tā′djwa-i sqag̣adā′g̣ᴀni. Ā′sga-i ʟ̣ū haoxᴀ′n tā′djiwa-i sg̣ag̣adā′g̣ᴀndixᴀn Qā′-itqā′dji-x̣āʟ gi lᴀ kiä′gañag̣ᴀn. Gañā′xᴀn g̣eigia′ñxᴀn tadjiwa′-i sg̣ag̣adā′g̣ᴀni. Qa-ida′-i qā′dji x̣utgā′si la gutxᴀ′n x̣a′odjig̣agīgā′ñag̣ᴀni. Kꜝiä′łhao x̣ila′-i gu′dañ lᴀ tcꜝî′ñułg̣adᴀñgāñag̣ᴀni.
Lagū′stᴀ Łg̣ā′xet-ʟdag̣a gī lᴀ kiägā′ñag̣ᴀn. Gañā′xᴀn î′sîñ tadjiwa′-i wᴀ gi qasgidā′g̣ᴀni. Lūa′-i g̣atā′-idᴀldañᴀsi. Łg̣ā′ga-i łg̣ā′-idagagañag̣ᴀni. Tā′dja-i î′sîñ x̣ū′tga. Kꜝiä′łhao gī′nᴀ gū′g̣a lᴀ î′sîs gui x̣ila′-i lᴀ tcꜝî′ñułg̣adᴀñgañag̣ᴀni. Asga-i ʟ̣ū′ îsî′ñ Nᴀñ-skēstā′igîsʟgᴀñᴀs-yä′nᴀña-ta-igî′ñgᴀñᴀs gi lᴀ kiagā′ñag̣ᴀn. Qoa′nag̣ᴀni. Tꜝē′dji gi ʟꜝ qꜝa-iskī′dᴀñ. Qa′odihao Ta-idᴀ′l gi lᴀ kiägā′ñag̣ᴀn. Ga-iʟ̣ū′hao l’ qatꜝa-idā′las giên l’ qasā′g̣agusʟg̣ᴀñdalag̣ᴀn. Kꜝiä′łhao x̣ila′-i gī′nᴀ gū′g̣a lᴀ î′sîs gui lᴀ tcꜝî′ñułgadᴀñgañag̣ᴀn. Ga-iʟ̣ū′hao l’ xᴀn tꜝᴀ′lgi ga g̣e′iłgiañag̣ᴀn. Ga-iʟ̣ū′hao lᴀ ʟꜝ g̣ē′tg̣atgîłdaiyag̣ᴀni. ʟ̣! qꜝaya′hao ʟ xā′-idᴀg̣a sū′g̣a l’ kꜝotwā′lag̣ᴀn sū′gᴀñga.
L’ a′og̣ahao Dā′g̣ał hᴀn kī′g̣añ wᴀnsū′ga. A′thao gᴀm dā′g̣ał hᴀn ʟꜝ sū′g̣ᴀñgᴀñgîn giên sîndā′g̣añaasañ ʟꜝ sugā′ñag̣ᴀni. A′thao ałg̣alā′g̣a hᴀn dā′g̣ał ʟꜝ kī′g̣adagᴀñgᴀñgîn.
A′hao ʟan l’ g̣e′idᴀñ.
THE CANOE PEOPLE WHO WEAR HEADDRESSES
[Told by Walter McGregor of the Sealion-town people]
There were ten of them, and they went to hunt with dogs. After they had gone along for some time it became misty about them, and they came to a steep mountain [41] and sat there. Their dogs walked about on the ground below. They yelped up at them.
Then they started a fire on top of the mountain, and one among them who was full of mischief put his bow into the fire. But, when it was consumed, it lay on the level ground below. Then he also put himself in. After he had burned for a while and was consumed, lo, he stood on the level ground below. Then he told his elder brothers to do the same thing. “Come, do the same thing. I did not feel it.” So they threw themselves into the fire. They were consumed and stood at once on the level ground.
And when they put the next to the eldest in, his skin drew together as he burned. His eyes were also swollen by the fire. That happened to him because he was afraid to be put in. When he was consumed he also stood below. The same thing happened to the eldest. This mountain was called “Slender-rock.”
Then they left it. After they had traveled about for a while a wren made a noise near them. They saw a blue hole in the heart of the one who was traveling nearest to it. And after they had gone on a while longer they came to the inner end of Masset inlet. When they had traveled on still farther (they found) a hawk [42] feather floated ashore. This they tied in the hair of the youngest. He put feathers from the neck of a mallard around the lower part of it. It was pretty.
Now they came to a temporary village. They camped in a house in the middle which had a roof. They began eating mussels which were to be found at one end of the town. He who was mischievous made fun of the mussels. He kept spitting them out upward. By and by they set out to see who could blow them highest [through the smoke hole]. One went up on the top of the house and held out his blanket, which was over his shoulder. By and by he looked at it. His blanket was covered with feathers. They did not know that this was caused by their having broken their fast.
And after they had walked about for a while in the town they found an old canoe. Moss grew on it. Nettles were also on it. They pulled these off, threw them away, and repaired it. Then the mischievous one made a bark bailer for it. On the handle he carved a figure like a bird. He carved it in a sitting posture. They tied a bunch of feathers in the hair of one of their number, and he got in forward with a pole. Another went in and lay on his back in the stern. They poled along.
John Reed Swanton’s Haida Texts and Myths (1905) presents a substantial collection of narratives recorded in the Skidegate dialect of Haida, accompanied by free and interlinear English translations. The volume includes myths, historical accounts, and ethnographic commentary, offering direct access to Haida oral traditions as documented by a Bureau of American Ethnology linguist. The catalog subjects—Haida language texts, Haida folklore, and British Columbia Indigenous folklore—accurately reflect the content, though the excerpts reveal a more specific focus on supernatural beings, shamanic power, and inter-village relations than the broad subject headings suggest.
Interlinear Translations and Linguistic Detail
The volume’s structure pairs free English translations with interlinear glosses, a method that preserves Haida syntax and vocabulary. In the excerpt from “Supernatural-being-who-went-naked,” the Haida phrasing is retained alongside the English, allowing readers to observe how concepts like “gā′gix̣īt” (supernatural power) are embedded in the original. Swanton’s notes clarify that this story shares motifs with Tlingit traditions, yet the Haida version diverges in its first half. The interlinear format makes the text valuable for linguistic study, though the excerpts are too brief to assess the consistency of translation across all 37 sections.
Recurring Motifs: Supernatural Power and Transformation
Several excerpts feature characters who acquire or lose supernatural abilities through specific actions. In “Supernatural-being-who-went-naked,” the wife’s anger causes her husband to sink into the sea, leaving “nothing but his joints holding together,” until her father revives him with medicine. The story concludes with the protagonist becoming a Swamp-robin, a transformation tied to his earlier deeds. Similarly, “He-who-got-supernatural-power-from-his-little-finger” suggests that power can be derived from a body part. These motifs recur across multiple narratives, indicating a cultural framework where power is transferable, dangerous, and often linked to animals or natural elements.
Ethnographic Commentary and Source Attribution
Swanton interjects brief ethnographic remarks, such as noting that the “gā′gix̣īt” concept was also popular among the Tlingit, and that a parallel version from Masset differed in its first half. These comments ground the myths in a comparative framework without overgeneralizing. The excerpts also include references to specific Haida towns (e.g., Skedans, Da′x̣ua) and clan groups (e.g., Stasa′os-lā′nas), suggesting that the narratives are tied to particular lineages or locations. Swanton’s sourcing—recording from named narrators—is not visible in the excerpts, but the footnotes indicate careful documentation of variants.
Readers should approach this collection as a primary document of early 20th-century ethnographic practice, noting that Swanton’s translations and commentary reflect the assumptions of his era. The interlinear format rewards close reading, but the volume’s length (over 230,000 words) means that patterns emerge only after sustained engagement. Comparing the Skidegate texts with the Masset variants mentioned in the notes may reveal how Haida oral traditions varied across communities.
Rain drummed the window while I lingered over Swanton’s interlinear Haida lines, the Raven’s slyness almost audible between the words. That old, wild cleverness stayed with me. Later, drying pages, I drifted to The Hyborian Age — A Closer Reading, and felt the same bone-deep strangeness—worlds built from fragments, told with patient certainty. One text quietly opened the other, no invitation needed.
Sebastian Lee
2 weeks agoJames Lee
3 weeks ago-
Loretta Brown - 1 month ago
This book is a valuable resource for those studying Haida culture, but it reads more like an academic text than a storybook. The myths are intriguing and well-preserved, yet the lack of contextual explanation may leave casual readers feeling lost. The translations are faithful, but the prose can be dry. Still, it's an important work for preserving these oral traditions. -
Yolanda Mitchell - 4 weeks ago
I expected a more engaging narrative, but the book feels like a dry academic compilation. The stories are interesting in concept, but the translation is stilted and lacks the vibrancy of oral storytelling. Moreover, there's minimal background provided on the cultural significance, making it hard to connect with the material. Could have been much more accessible. -
Patricia Hubbard - 1 week ago
A fascinating collection of Haida myths and stories, translated with care and cultural sensitivity. The tales are rich in symbolism and offer a rare glimpse into the spiritual world of the Pacific Northwest Coast. I was captivated by the creation stories and the heroic adventures. A must-read for anyone interested in Indigenous folklore and comparative mythology.
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Camila Hernandez
3 weeks ago