Glooscap, having conquered the Kewawkqu', a race of giants and magicians, and the Medecolin, who were cunning sorcerers, and Pamola, a wicked spirit of the night, besides hosts of fiends, goblins, cannibals, and witches, felt himself great indeed, and boasted to a woman that there was nothing left for him to subdue.
But the woman laughed and said: "Are you quite sure, Master? There is still one who remains unconquered, and nothing can overcome him." In some surprise Glooscap inquired the name of this mighty one.
"He is called Wasis," replied the woman, "but I strongly advise you to have no dealings with him."
Wasis was only a baby, who sat on the floor sucking a piece of maple sugar and crooning a little song to himself. Now Glooscap had never married and was ignorant of how children are managed, but with perfect confidence he smiled at the baby and asked it to come to him. The baby smiled back but never moved, whereupon Glooscap imitated a beautiful bird song. Wasis, however, paid no attention and went on sucking his maple sugar.
Unaccustomed to such treatment, Glooscap lashed himself into a rage and in terrible and threatening accents ordered Wasis to come to him at once. But Wasis burst into dire howls, which quite drowned the god's thundering, and would not budge for any threats. Glooscap, thoroughly aroused, summoned all his magical resources. He recited the most terrible spells, the most dreadful incantations. He sang the songs which raise the dead, and those which send the devil scurrying to the nethermost depths. But Wasis merely smiled and looked a trifle bored. At last Glooscap rushed from the hut in despair, while Wasis, sitting on the floor, cried: "Goo, goo!"
And to this day the Indians say that when a baby says "Goo," he remembers the time when he conquered the mighty Glooscap.