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Updated: July 14, 2025
He'll sweem aroun' in the lake foolish, but all tam he'll come closer to those swan, an' closer. Those swan she'll be wise bird, an' they'll saw heem an' they'll say, 'There's one of us that we'll not miss what'll he doing out there? "Then they begin to sweem toward Wiesacajac, an' Wiesacajac begin to sweem toward them. Bimeby he'll been right among 'em.
"Well, one tam," said Moise, reaching to the fire to get a coal for his pipe, and leaning back against a blanket-roll, "all fox that ron wild was red, like some fox is red to-day. But those tam was some good fox an' some bad fox. Then Wiesacajac, he'll get mad with some fox an' mark heem that way. He'll been bad fox, that's how he get mark." "Wiesacajac?" asked Rob. "What do you mean by that?"
"Wiesacajac, he'll have some babiche some hide string, aroun' hees waist, an' he'll took it now an' tie the feet of all those swan together, so all they'll can do is to flap hees wing an' scream an' blow their horn like the swan do. At last he'll got them all tied fast the whole flock. But he'll can't hold so many swan down on the water.
You know ver' well you'll not can come up to the swans. "'Ah, ha! Was that so? said Wiesacajac. 'Let me show you somethings, then. "So Wiesacajac, he'll take those ol' swanskin an' put it on hees head. Then he'll walk down in the lake an' sink down till just the head and breast of those swanskin will show on the water. Wiesacajac, he'll be good honter, too.
Now in the fur country east of the mountains is a lake where a rock is on the shore, split in two piece, an' the people call that the Split-Stone Lake. Listen, I speak. I tell now how the lake he's got that name. "Wiesacajac, he'll make hont sometime in that country, an' he'll come on a camp where all the men are out honting.
But my mother and her people all believed in Wiesacajac, and thought he was around all the time and was able to play jokes on the people if he felt like it. Usually he was good-natured. But, Moise, go on and tell about how the fox got his mark." Moise, assuming a little additional dignity, as became an Indian teller of stories, now went on with his tale. "Listen, I speak!" he began.
So bimeby Wiesacajac he'll walk off away in the wood for to let those goose get brown in the ashes. This'll be fine day beau temps an' he'll be happy, for he'll got meat in camp. So bimeby he'll sit down on log an' look at those sky an' those wind, an' maybe he'll light his pipe, I don't know, me.
Those swan will all begin to trumpet an' fly off together, an' they'll carry Wiesacajac with them. Now he'll let them fly until they come right near where those two hongree boy an' girl is sit, an' going for starve. Then he'll drop down an' tie the end of hees babiche to a strong bush. Voila! Those whole flock of swan is tie' fast to camp. None but Wiesacajac can do this thing.
"One tam, long ago, Wiesacajac, he'll be sit all alone by a lake off north of this river. Wiesacajac, he'll been hongree, but he'll not be mad. He'll be laugh, an' talk by heemself an' have good tam, because he'll just keel himself some nice fat goose. "Now, Wiesacajac, he'll do the way the people do, an' he'll go for roast this goose in the sand, under the ashes where he'll make his fire.
"Now about this tam some red fox he'll be lie down over those ridge an' watch Wiesacajac an' those goose. This fox he'll be hongree, too, for he'll ain't got no goose. He'll been thief, too, all same like every fox. So he'll see Wiesacajac walk off in woods, an' he'll smell aroun' an' he'll sneak down to the camp where those goose will be with his feet stick out of ashes.
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