In the annals of Native American folklore, particularly among the tribes of the Wabanaki Confederacy in the Northeastern Woodlands, figures of immense power and cultural significance emerge. Among them stands Gluskabe (also known as Glooscap or Gluscabi), a benevolent culture hero and transformer. Tales of Gluskabe are rich with symbolism, moral lessons, and explanations of the natural world. One such tale, passed down through generations, recounts the story of How Gluskabe Stole Tobacco, a narrative that speaks to the importance of sharing, the dangers of selfishness, and the origins of a sacred plant.
Long ago, in a time when the world was still being shaped, Gluskabe resided in a humble lodge near the water’s edge. His sole companion was his wise Grandmother Woodchuck, a figure often portrayed as his teacher and guide. Their life was simple, dictated by the rhythms of nature and the teachings of Tabaldak, the Creator. One day, Grandmother Woodchuck expressed a deep longing, a void in their lives that stemmed from the absence of a precious gift.
"My Grandchild," she said with a tinge of sadness, "it is a sorrowful thing that we have no tobacco."
Gluskabe, ever inquisitive and eager to learn, turned to his grandmother with a questioning gaze. "What is tobacco, Grandmother?" he asked, his brow furrowed in innocent curiosity.
Grandmother Woodchuck, knowing the profound significance of this plant, proceeded to explain its multifaceted nature. "Ah, Grandson," she began, her voice filled with reverence, "tobacco is a great and sacred gift bestowed upon us by Tabaldak, our Maker. It is more than just a plant; it is a conduit to the spiritual realm, a tool for healing, and a source of comfort."
She elaborated on the plant’s healing properties. "If you are afflicted by illness," she explained, "you need only take tobacco into the woods, and it will guide you to the medicinal plants you require. By offering tobacco to the Earth, you can respectfully request to pluck those plants and harness their healing powers."
The wisdom of the elders, she emphasized, was often soothed and illuminated by tobacco. "Tobacco is a great comfort to the old," she continued. "They can smoke it in their pipes and, in the rising smoke, see visions of happy days gone by, memories rekindled, and the continuity of life celebrated."
Furthermore, Grandmother Woodchuck revealed the plant’s crucial role in prayer and spiritual communication. "When you pray and burn tobacco," she said, "the smoke acts as a carrier, lifting your prayers directly to Tabaldak, our Creator. Tobacco, therefore, is a truly good thing, provided it is used in accordance with Tabaldak’s intentions, with respect, gratitude, and generosity."
Inspired by his grandmother’s words, Gluskabe felt a strong desire to acquire this valuable gift. "Then we must have tobacco," he declared with determination. "Tell me, Grandmother, where can I find it?"
Grandmother Woodchuck sighed, her expression turning grave. "Ah, Grandson," she replied, "it is not an easy task to obtain tobacco. It resides on a large island far out in the water, a place shrouded in danger and guarded by a powerful magician. This individual cultivates the tobacco but refuses to share it due to his excessive selfishness. He is a formidable opponent, and those who have dared to steal tobacco from him have never returned."
Despite the grim warning, Gluskabe remained undeterred. "Huunh!" he exclaimed with characteristic confidence. "I will go and get tobacco, and I will share it with everyone. It is not right for one person to hoard such a valuable gift."
Driven by his commitment to fairness and the well-being of his people, Gluskabe embarked on his quest. He journeyed to the water’s edge, where he found a hollow log. Recognizing its potential, Gluskabe skillfully transformed the log into a rudimentary canoe. He placed it in the water and tested its capabilities.
"Now," he said to himself, "let me see if this canoe will serve its purpose."
He pushed the canoe with his foot, and the hollow log shot out across the water. It traveled a considerable distance, as far as the eye could see.
"This canoe is not fast enough," Gluskabe concluded, always striving for the best.
Undeterred, Gluskabe sought a more suitable vessel. He selected a large white birch tree, carefully stripped off its bark, and fashioned it into a lighter and more agile canoe. He placed the birch bark canoe in the water and tested its performance.
"Now," he said again, "let me see if this canoe will fare better."
He pushed it with his foot, and the birch bark canoe glided swiftly over the water, traveling twice the distance of the log canoe. However, Gluskabe remained unsatisfied.
"This canoe is still not fast enough," he declared, his pursuit of perfection unwavering.
Next, Gluskabe constructed a boat with ribs of cedar and the skin of a moose. He put it into the water and pushed it out, and it went three looks. But Gluskabe was not happy with the moose hide canoe.
"This canoe," he said, "is not fast enough."
Gluskabe then looked around. There at the edge of the water was a great white boulder. Gluskabe turned it over, shaped it into a canoe and put it into the water.
"Now," he said, "let me see if this canoe will go."
He pushed it with his foot, and it shot out across the water with Gluskabe inside. It went four looks almost as quickly as one could think, leaving a great white wave behind it. Gluskabe was very pleased.
"Now I can go and get tobacco."
He returned to the lodge. "Grandmother," he said, "I am going now to steal tobacco. But first, you must tell me the name of my enemy, the magician who will not share the tobacco."
Grandmother Woodchuck shook her head. "Who will hunt for me and bring me wood for my fire and water for my cooking if Grasshopper kills you? No, Gluskabe, I cannot tell you his name."
Gluskabe laughed. "Oleoneh, Grandmother," he said. "When I return, you will be the first one to smoke tobacco in your pipe."
Then Gluskabe climbed into his white stone canoe. He pushed off from the shore, and the canoe shot over the waves towards the island of the magician, Grasshopper. As the canoe sped along, Gluskabe sang:
Grasshopper, you are going to travel,
Grasshopper, you are going to travel,
You must leave your home now,
Grasshopper, you are going to travel.
He sang his song four times. By the time he was finished, he had reached the island, and, sure enough, just as he had wished in his song, Grasshopper was not there. The cooking pot was still on the fire, and the beautiful clay pipe decorated with bright stones was beside the fire, with smoke still rising from the bowl, but the magician was nowhere to be seen. Gluskabe picked up the pipe.
"Grasshopper," he said, "you are not going to need this anymore." Then he placed the pipe in his own pouch. Inside the lodge on many racks, tobacco bundles were drying. Gluskabe took them all and placed them in his canoe. He took all of the tobacco and did not leave a single seed. All around the fields were the bones of those who had come to steal tobacco and were killed by Grasshopper. Gluskabe gathered all the bones together and then shouted.
"Get up!" Gluskabe yelled. "Your enemy is coming back." Then all of the bones came back together, and all of the people came back to life. They were very happy, even though some of them had been in such a hurry to return to life that they had gotten the wrong bones. Some of them had legs or arms that were too short or too long. The old people say that is why there are crippled people today. Gluskabe shared the tobacco among them. He mended their boats, which had been broken by Grasshopper, and sent them back to their homes.
"Tobacco is for everyone." he said. "You must always share it and give it freely or it will not do you good."
Then Gluskabe climbed back into his white stone canoe. He pushed it with his foot, and it flew back across the waves to the place where his Grandmother Woodchuck waited.
"Grandmother," he said, "I have brought tobacco. Never again will it be scarce."
Grandmother Woodchuck was very happy. She filled her pipe with the tobacco and smoked it and gave thanks to Tabaldak. She began to sing a song in praise of her Grandson, Gluskabe. But as she sang, the magician, Grasshopper, came. He came across the sky in a magical canoe.
"YOU!" he shouted in a loud and terrible voice. "You have stolen my tobacco!"
"That is not so," Gluskabe said. "It was not right for you to keep it all to yourself. Now my children and my children’s children will have tobacco to enjoy." Then he rubbed Grasshopper between his hands, and Grasshopper became very small.
"Please," Grasshopper said in a small voice, "give me seeds so I can grow tobacco for myself."
But Gluskabe shook his head. "No longer can you be trusted to grow tobacco. That will be the job of my children and of my children’s children. But since you were the first to grow tobacco, I will give you enough to enjoy in your lifetime. Open your mouth."
Grasshopper opened his mouth and Gluskabe filled it with tobacco. Grasshopper was pleased, but he spoke again. "Give me back my canoe so that I can fly across the sky."
But Gluskabe shook his head. "It is not right for you to have such a magical canoe. I will split the back of your coat and give you wings. Now you will be able to fly on your own, but you will no longer be able to frighten the people."
So it is that to this day tobacco is used by the children of Gluskabe and their children’s children, and when they use it as Tabaldak intended, always giving it freely to others, it does them no harm.
As for Grasshopper, he flies about with the wings Gluskabe gave him and chews his mouthful of tobacco which will last all his life. And he remembers the lesson taught to him by Gluskabe. If you ever pick up any grasshopper it will immediately spit out its tobacco as if to say, "See, I am willing to share."
The narrative of How Gluskabe Stole Tobacco serves as a potent reminder of the importance of generosity, the dangers of selfishness, and the appropriate use of sacred gifts. It is a tale that continues to resonate with the descendants of Gluskabe and their children’s children, ensuring that the lessons of the past are never forgotten. The story of How Gluskabe Stole Tobacco continues to be told in Wabanaki communities.