Prevod
Winnepurkit, sagamor obalnih naselbin med Nahantom in rtom Ann, se je poročil z Weetamoo, hčerjo Passaconawaya, kralja ljudstva Pennacook, in jo odpeljal na svoj dom. Njuni medeni tedni so bili srečni, toda stare vezi so močne in kmalu je nevesta zahrepenela po tem, da bi spet videla svoje ljudi. Ko je izrazila to željo, mož ni le privolil v njen obisk, temveč ji je dal tudi spremstvo svojih najzvestejših lovcev, ki so jo varno pripeljali v očetovo kočo (blizu kraja, kjer danes stoji Concord v New Hampshiru), nato pa se takoj vrnili. Kmalu zatem je prišel Passaconawayev sel in zetu sporočil, da je Weetamoo končala obisk in si spet želi biti pri možu, od katerega je oče pričakoval spremstvo, ki bi jo vodilo skozi divjino. Winnepurkit je v tej zadnji zahtevi videl žalitev svojega poglavarskega dostojanstva in odgovoril, da ji je sam priskrbel spremstvo za pot tja, zato je očetova dolžnost, da jo pošlje nazaj, »saj se z Winnepurkitovim ugledom ni skladalo, da bi sebe ali svoje može tako ponižal v služabnike in šel znova ponjo«.
Passaconaway mu je poslal oster odgovor, ki je Winnepurkita še bolj razdražil, mladi sagamor pa mu je sporočil, da lahko hčer pošlje nazaj ali jo obdrži, saj ponjo ne bo poslal nikogar. V tem nesrečnem sporu za prvenstvo, kakršen se je pozneje še ponavljal med knezi in ljudmi iz visoke družbe, se je zdelo, da je mladi ženi usojeno postati neprostovoljna žrtev; vendar je zbrala pogum, zapustila očetov vigvam in spustila kanu na Merrimack v upanju, da bo po tej vodni poti dosegla moževo ozemlje. Bila je zima in reka je bila polna plavajočega ledu; tudi v najugodnejših razmerah ni bilo lahko krhkega čolna iz lubja obdržati v toku in proč od brzic. Neki potujoči lovec je poročal, da se je po reki spustil kanu, ki ga je krmarila ženska, da ga je zaneslo v skale pri Amoskeagu, kjer danes stoji Manchester, in da je nekaj trenutkov pozneje priplul v mirnejši del reke, razbit in prazen. Weetamoo ni nihče nikoli več videl.
Izvirnik
Winnepurkit, sagamore of the coast settlements between Nahant and Cape Ann, had married Weetamoo, daughter of Passaconaway, king of the Pennacooks, and had taken her to his home. Their honeymoon was happy, but old ties are strong, and after a little time the bride felt a longing to see her people again. When she made known this wish the husband not only consented to her visit, but gave her a guard of his most trusty hunters who saw her safe in her father's lodge (near the site of Concord, New Hampshire), and returned directly. Presently came a messenger from Passaconaway, informing his son-in-law that Weetamoo had finished her visit and wished again to be with her husband, to whom he looked for an escort to guide her through the wilderness. Winnepurkit felt that his dignity as a chief was slighted by this last request, and he replied that as he had supplied her with a guard for the outward journey it was her father's place to send her back, “for it stood not with Winnepurkit's reputation either to make himself or his men so servile as to fetch her again.”
Passaconaway returned a sharp answer that irritated Winnepurkit still more, and he was told by the young sagamore that he might send his daughter or keep her, for she would never be sent for. In this unhappy strife for precedent, which has been repeated on later occasions by princes and society persons, the young wife seemed to be fated as an unwilling sacrifice; but summoning spirit to leave her father's wigwam she launched a canoe on the Merrimack, hoping to make her way along that watery highway to her husband's domain. It was winter, and the stream was full of floating ice; at the best of times it was not easy to keep a frail vessel of bark in the current away from the rapids, and a wandering hunter reported that a canoe had come down the river guided by a woman, that it had swung against the Amoskeag rocks, where Manchester stands now, and a few moments later was in a quieter reach of water, broken and empty. No more was seen of Weetamoo.
