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William Henry Drummond - The Windigo
Work rating: Medium

Go easy wit` de paddle, an` steady wit` de
     oar
  Geev rudder to de bes` man  you got among
     de crew,
Let ev`ry wan be quiet, don`t let dem sing no
     more
  W`en you see de islan` risin` out of Grande
     Lac Manitou
Above us on de sky dere, de summer cloud
     may float 
  Aroun` us on de water de ripple never show,
But somet`ing down below us can rock de
     stronges` boat,
  W`en we `re comin` near de islan` of de
     spirit Windigo!

De carcajou may breed dere,  an` otter sweem
     de poole
  De moosh-rat mak` de mud house, an` beaver
     buil` hees dam
An` beeges` Injun hunter on all de Tête de 
     Boule
  Will never set hees trap dere from spring
     to summer tam.

But he `ll  bring de fines` presen` from upper
     St. Maurice
  De loup marin an` black-fox from off de
     Hodson Bay
An` hide dem on de islan` an` smoke de pipe
     of peace
  So Windigo will help heem w`en he travel
     far away.

We shaintee on dat islan` on de winter seexty-
     nine
  If you look you see de clearin` aroun` de
     Coo Coo Cache,
An` pleasan` place enough too among de spruce
     an` pine
  If foreman on de shaintee is  n`t Cyprien
     Palache.

Beeg feller, alway watchin` on hees leetle
     weasel eye,
  De gang dey can`t do not`ing but he see dem
     purty quick
Wit` hees "Hi dere, w`at you doin` ?" ev`ry
     tam he `s passin` by
  An` de bad word he was usin` , wall! it offen
     mak` me sick.

An` he carry silver w`issle wit` de chain aroun` 
     hees neck
  For fear he mebbe los` it, an` ev`ry body say
     He mus` buy it from de devil w`en he `s 
     passin` on Kebeck
  But if it `s true dat story, I dunno how
     moche he pay.

Dere `s plaintee on de shaintee can sing lak
     rossignol
  Pet Clancy play de fiddle, an` Jimmie Char-
     bonneau
Was bring hees concertina from below St.
     Fereol
  So we get some leetle pleasure till de long,
     long winter go. 

But if we start up singin` affer supper on de 
     camp
  "Par derriere chez ma tante," or "Mattawa
     wishtay,"
De boss he `ll come along den, an` put heem
      out de lamp,
  An` only stop hees swearin` w`en we all go
     marche coucher.

We `ve leetle boy dat winter from Po-po-lo-be-
     lang
  Hees fader an` hees moder dey`re bote
     A-ben-a-kee
An` he `s comin` , Injun Johnnie, wit` some
     man de lumber gang
  Was fin` heem nearly starvin` above on Lac
     Souris.

De ole man an` de woman is tryin` pass de Soo
  W`en water `s high on spring tam, an` of
      course dey `re gettin` drown`,
For even smartes` Injun should n`t fool wit` 
     birch canoe,
  W`ere de reever lak toboggan on de hill is
     runnin` down.

So dey lef` de leetle feller all alone away up
     dere
  Till lumber gang is ketchin` him an` bring
     him on de Cache,
But better if he `s stayin` wit` de wolf an` wit`
     de bear
  Dan come an` tak` hees chances wit` Cyprien
     Palache.

I wonder how he stan` it, w`y he never run
     away
  For Cyprien lak neeger he is treat heem all
     de sam`
An` if he `s wantin` Johnnie on de night or on
     de day
  God help heem if dat w`issle she was below
     de secon`tam!

De boy he don `t say not`ing, no wan never see
     heem cry
  He `s got de Injun in heem, you can see it 
     on de face,
An` only for us feller an` de cook, he `ll surely
     die
  Long before de winter `s over, long before
     we lef` de place,

But I see heem hidin` somet`ing wan morning
     by de shore
  So firse tam I was passin` I scrape away de 
     snow
An` it `s rabbit skin he `s ketchin` on de swamp
     de day before,
  Leetle Injun Johnnie `s workin` on de spirit
      Windigo.

December`s come in stormy, an` de snow-dreef
     fill de road
  Can only see de chimley an` roof of our
     cabane,
An` stronges` team on stable fin` it plaintee
     heavy load
  Haulin` sleigh an` two t`ree pine log t`roo
     de wood an` beeg savane.

An` I travel off wan day me, wit` Cyprien
     Palache
  Explorin` for new timber, w`en de win` be-
     gin to blow,
So we hurry on de snow-shoe for de camp on
     Coo Coo Cache
  If de nor` eas` storm is comin`, was de bes` 
     place we dunno-

An` we `re gettin` safe enough dere wit` de
     storm close on our heel,
  But w`en our belt we loosen for takin` off de
     coat
De foreman commence screamin` an` mon Dieu
     it mak` us feel
  Lak he got t`ree t`ousan` devil all fightin` on
     hees t`roat.

Cyprien is los` hees w`issle, Cyprien is los` hees
     chain
  Injun Johnnie he mus` fin` it, even if de win`
     is high

He can never show hese`f on de Coo Coo
     Cache again
  Till he bring dat silver w`issle an` de chain
     it `s hangin` by.

So he sen` heem on hees journey never knowin` 
     he come back
  T`roo de rough an` stormy wedder, t`roo de
     pile of dreefin` snow
"Wat `s de use of bein` Injun if you can `t
     smell out de track?"
  Dat `s de way de boss is talkin` , an` poor
     Johnnie have to go.

If you want to hear de musique of de nort` win`
     as it blow
  An` lissen to the hurricane an` learn de way
     it sing
An` feel how small de man is w`en he `s
     leevin` here below,
  You should try it on de shaintee w`en she `s
     doin` all dem t`ing!

W`at `s dat soun` lak somet`ing cryin` all
     aroun` us ev`ryw`ere?
  We never hear no tonder upon de winter
     storm!
Dey `re shoutin` to each oder dem voices on
     de air,
  An` it `s red hot too de stove pipe, but no
     wan `s feelin` warm!

"Get out an` go de woodpile before I freeze
     to deat`"
  Cyprien de boss is yellin` an` he `s lookin`
     cole an` w`ite
Lak dead man on de coffin, but no wan go,
     you bet,
  For if it `s near de woodpile, `t is n`t close
     enough to-night!

Non! we ain`t afraid of not`ing, but we don `t
     lak takin` chance,
  An` w`en we hear de spirit of de wil` A-ben-
     a-kee
Singin` war song on de chimley, makin` all dem
     Injun dance
  Raisin` row dere, you don`t ketch us on no
     woodpile -no siree!

O! de lonesome night we `re passin` w`ile
     we `re stayin` on dat place!
  An` ev`rybody sheever when Jimmie Char
     bonneau
Say he `s watchin` on de winder an` he see de
     Injun face
  An` it `s lookin` so he tole us, jus` de sam`
     as Windingo.

Den again mese`f I `m hearin` somet`ing
     callin`, an` it soun`
  Lak de voice of leetle Johnnie so I`m
     passin` on de door

But de pine stump on de clearin` wit` de w`ite
     sheet all aroun` 
  Mak` me t`ink of churchyar` tombstone, an` 
     I can`t go dere no more.

Wat`s de reason we `re so quiet w`ile our
     heart she `s goin` fas`
  W`y is no wan ax de question?  dat we`re
     all afraid to spik?
Was it wing of flyin` wil` bird strek de winder
     as it pass,
  Or de sweesh of leetle snow-ball w`en de win`
     is playin` trick?

W`en we buil` de Coo Coo shaintee, she`s as
     steady as a rock,
  Did you feel de shaintee shakin` de sam,
     she`s goin` to fall?
Dere`s somet`ing on de doorway! an` now we 
     hear de knock
  An` up above de hurricane we hear de w`issle
     call.

Callin`, callin` lak a bugle, an` he`s jompin` up
     de boss
  From hees warm bed on de corner an` open
     wide de door—
Dere`s no use foller affer for Cyprien is los`
  An` de Coo Coo Cache an` shaintee he`ll
     never see no more.

At las` de morning`s comin`, an` storm is blow
     away
  An` outside on de shaintee young Jimmie
     Charbonneau
He`s seein` track of snowshoe, `bout de size of
     doulbe sleigh
  Dere`s no mistak` it`s makin` by de spirit
     Windigo.

An` de leetle Injuin Johnie, he`s all right I
     onderstan`
  For you`ll fin` heem up de reever above de 
     Coo Coo Cache
Ketchin` mink and ketchin` beaver, an` he`s
     growin` great beeg man
  But dat`s de las` we`re hearin` of Cyprien
     Palache.
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