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From the river came the warriors, Smoothed and formed it into Peace-Pipes, Cleaned and washed from all their war Broke the long reeds by the river, paint; .
Decked them with their brightest feathers, On the banks their clubs they buried, And departed each one homeward, Buried all their warlike weapons. While the Master of Life, ascending, Gitche Manito, the mighty,
Through the opening of cloud-curtains, The Great Spirit, the Creator,
Through the doorways of the heaven, Smiled upon bis helpless children! Vanished from before their faces, And in silence all the warriors
In the smoke that rolled around him, Broke the red stone of the quarry, | The Pukwana of the Peace-Pipe !
THE FOUR WINDS.
“Honour be to Mudjekeewis !" | As he reeled and staggered forward,
Spake disdainfully in this wise :-
He had stolen the Belt of Wampum, And no Brave, as you pretended; From the neck of Mishe-Mokwa,
Else you would not cry and whimper From the Great Bear of the mountains, Like a miserable woman! From the terror of the nations,
Bear! you know our tribes are hostile, As he lay asleep and cumbrous
Long have been at war together;
You go sneaking in the forest,
Had you conquered me in battle, Till the red nails of the monster
Not a groan would I have uttered; Almost touched him, almost scared him, But you, Bear! sit here and whimper, Till the hot breath of his nostrils And disgrace your tribe by crying, Warmed the hands of Mudjekeewis, Like a wretched Shaugodaya, As he drew the Belt of Wampum
Like a cowardly old woman !" Over the round ears, that heard not, Then again he raised his war-club, Over the small eyes, that saw not, Smote again the Mishe. Mokwa Over the long nose and nostrils,
In the middle of his forehead, The black muffle of the nostrils,
Broke his skull, as ice is broken Out of which the heavy breathing When one goes to fish in Winter. Warmed the hands of Mudjekeewis. Thus was slain the Mishe-Mokwa,
Then he swung aloft his war-club, He the Great Bear of the mountains, Shouted loud and long his war-cry, He the terror of the nations. Smote the righty Mishe-Mokwa
“Honour be to Mudjekeewis !” In the middle of the forehead,
With a shout exclaimed the people, Right between the eyes he smote him. | “Honour be to Mudjekeewis !
With the heavy blow bewildered, Henceforth he shall be the West-Wind, Rose the Great Bear of the mountains; And hereafter and for ever But his knees beneath him trembled, Shall he hold supreme dominion And he whimpered like a woman, Over all the winds of heaven.
Call him no more Mudjekeewis,
Wabun and the Wabun-Annung, Call him Kabeyun, the West-Wind !" Wabun and the Star of Morning. Thus was Mudjekeewis chosen
. But the fierce Kabibonokka
In the kingdom of Wabasso,
He it was whose hand in Autumn
Stained the leaves with red and yellow; Young and beautiful was Wabun ; He it was who sent the snow-flakes, He it was who brought the morning, Sifting, bissing through the forest, He it was whose silver arrows
Froze the ponds, the lakes, the rivers, Chased the dark o'er bill and valley; Drove the loon and sea-gull southward, He it was whose cheeks were painted Drove the cormorant and curlew With the brightest streaks of crimson, To their nests of sedge and sea-tang And whose voice awoke the village, In the realms of Shawondasee. Called the deer and called the hunter. ! Once the fierce Kabi bonokka
Lonely in the sky was Wabun; Issued from his lodge of snow-drifts, Though the birds sang gaily to him, From his home among the ice bergs, Though the wild flowers of the meadow And his hair, with snow besprinkled, Filled the air with odours for him, Streamed bebind him like a river, Though the forests and the rivers
Like a black and wintry river, Sang and shouted at his coming,
As he howled and hurried southward, Still his heart was sad within him, Over frozen lakes and moorlands. For he was alone in heaven.
There among the reeds and rushes But one morning gazing earthward, Found he Shingebis, the diver, While the village still was sleeping, Trailing strings of fish behind him, And the fog lay on the river,
O'er the frozen fens and moorlands, Like a ghost, that goes at sunrise, Lingering still among the moorlands, He beheld a maiden walking
Though his tribe had long departed All alone upon a meadow,
To the land of Shawondasee. Gathering water-flags and rushes
Cried the fierce Kabi bonokka, By a river in the meadow.
“ Who is this that dares to brave me? Every morning, gazing earthward, Dares to stay in my dominions, Still the first thing he beheld there When the Wawa has departed, Wak her blue eyes looking at him, When the wild-goose has gone southward, Twc blue lakes among the rushes. And the heron, the Shuh-shuh-gah, And he loved the lonely maiden, Long ago departed southward ? Who thus waited for his coming ; I will go into his wigwam, For they both were solitary,
I will put his smouldering fire out!" She on earth and he in heaven.
And at night Kabibonokka And he wooed her with caresses, To the lodge came wild and wailing, Wooed her with his smile of sunshine, Heaped the snow in drifts about it, With his flattering words he wooed her, Shouted down into the smoke-flue, With bis sighing and his singing, Shook the lodge-poles in his fury, Gentlest whispers in the branches, Flapped the curtain of the doorway. Softest music, sweetest odours,
Shingebis, the diver, feared not, Till be drew her to his bosom,
Shingebis, the diver, cared not; Folded in hie robes of crimson,
Four great logs had be for fire-wood, Till into a star he changed her,
One for each moon of the winter, Trembling still upon his bosom;
And for food the fishes served him. And for ever in the heavens
By his blazing fire he sat there, They are seen together walking, Warm and merry, eating, laughing,
Singing, “O Kabibonokka,
Sent the wild-goose, Wawa, northward, You are but my fellow. mortal!"
Sent the melons and tobacco, Then Kabibonok ka entered,
And the grapes in purple clusters. And though Shingebis, the diver,
From his pipe the smoke ascending Pelt his presence hy the coldness, Filled the sky with haze and vapour, Felt his icy breath upon him,
Filled the air with dreamy softness, Still he did not cease his singing, Gave a twinkle to the water, Still he did not leave his laughing, Touched the rugged hills with smoothOnly turned the log a little, Only made the fire burn brighter, Brought the tender Indian Summe Made the sparks fly up the smoke-flue. To the melancholy North-land, From Kabibonokka's forehead,
In the dreary Moon of Snow-shoes. From his snow-besprinkled tresses,
Listless, careless Shawondasee ! Drops of sweat fell fast and heavy, In his life he had one shadow, Making dints upon the ashes,
In his heart one sorrow had he.
Once, as he was gazing northward,
| All alone upon a prairie ; Could not bear the heat and laughter, Brightest green were all her garments, Could not bear the merry singing, And her hair was like the sunshine. But rushed headlong through the door | Day by day he gazed upon her, way,
Day by day be sighed with passion, Stamped upon the crusted snow-drifts, Day by day his heart within him Stamped upon the lakes and rivers, Grew more hot with love and longing Made the snow upon them harder, For the maid with yellow tresses. Made the ice upon them thicker, | But he was too fat and lazy Challenged Sbingebis, the diver,
To bestir himself and woo her ;
To pursue her and persuade her.
Porth went Shingebis, the diver, Only sat and sighed with passion Wrestled all night with the North-Wind, For the maiden of the prairie. Wrestled naked on the moorlands
Till one morning, looking northward, With the fierce Kabi bonokka,
He beheld ber yellow tresses Till his panting breath grew fainter, Changed and covered o'er with whiteness; Till his frozen grasp grew feebler, Covered as with whitest snow-flakes. Till he reeled and staggered backward, “Ah! my brother from the North-land, And retreated, baffled, heaten,
From the kingdom of Wabasso, To the kingdom of Wabasso,
From the land of the White Rabbit ! To the land of the White Rabbit, You have stolen the maiden from me, Hearing still the gusty laughter,
You have laid your hand upon her, Hearing Shingebis, the diver,
You have wooed and won my maiden, Singing, “0 Kabibonokka.
With your stories of the North-land !” You are but my fellow-mortal!"
Thus the wretched Shawondasee Shawondasee, fat and lazy,
Breathed into the air his sorrow; Had his dwelling far to southward, | And the South-Wind o'er the prairie In tbe drowsy, dreamy sunshine,
Wandered warm with sighs of passion, In the never-ending Summer.
With the sighs of Shawondasee, He it was who sent the wood-birds, Till the air seemed full of snow-flakes, Sent the robin, the Opechee,
Full of thistle-down the prairie, Sent the blue-bird, the Owaissa,
And the maid with hair like sunshine Sent the Shawshaw, sent the swallow, Vanished from his sight for ever ;
Never more did Shawondasee
Poor, deluded Shawondasee !
| And had puffed away for ever,
Thus the Four Winds were divided,
For himself the West-Wind only
HIAWATHA'S CHILDHOOD. DOWNWARD through the evening twilight, Lest the West-Wind come and harm In the days that are forgotten, In the unremembered ages,
But she heeded not the warning, From the full moon fell Nokomis, Heeded not those words of wisdom, Fell the beautiful Nokomis,
And the West-Wind came at evening, She a wife, but not a mother.
Walking lightly o'er the prairie, She was sporting with her women, Whispering to the leaves and blossoms, Swinging in a swing of grape-vines, Bending low the flowers and grasses, When her rival, the rejected,
Found the beautiful Wenonah, Full of jealousy and hatred,
Lying there among the lilies, Cut the leafy swing asunder,
Wooed her with his words of sweetness, Cut in twain the twisted grape-vines, | Wooed her with his soft caresses, And Nokomis fell affrighted
Till she bore a son in sorrow, Downward through the evening twilight, Bore a son of love and sorrow. On the Muskoday, the meadow
Thus was born my Hiawatha, On the prairie full of blossoms.
Thus was born the child of wonder; “See ! a star falls !” said the people ; But the daughter of Nokomis, “From the sky a star is falling !" Hiawatha's gentle mother,
There among the ferns and mosses, In her anguish died deserted There among the prairie lilies,
By the West-Wind, false and faithless, On the Muskoday, the meadow,
By the heartless Mudjekeewis. In the moonlight and the starlight,
For her daughter, long and loudly Fair Nokomis bore a daughter,
Wailed and wept the sad Nokomis; And she called her name Wenonah, “() that I were dead," she murmured, As the first-born of her daughters. “() that I were dead, as thou art ! And the daughter of Nokomis
No more work, and no more weeping, Grew up like the prairie lilies,
Wahonowin ! Wahonowin !" Grew a tall and slender maiden,
By the shores of Gitche Gumee, With the beauty of the moonlight, By the shining Big-Sea-Water, With the beauty of the starlight. Stood the wigwam of Nokomis,
And Nokomis warned her often, Daughter of the Moon, Nokomis. Saying oft, and oft repeating,
Dark behind it rose the forest, “0, beware of Mudjekeewis ;
Rose the black and gloomy pine-trees, Of the West-Wind, Mudjekeewis ; Rose the firs with cones upon them; Listen not to what he tells you ;
Bright before it beat the water, Lie not down upon the meadow,
Beat the shining Big-Sea-Water. Stoop not down among the lilies,
Thus the wrinkled, old Nokomis
Nursed the little Hiawatha,
| In the eastern sky the rainbow, Rocked him in his linden cradle, Whispered, “What is that, Nokomis ?" Bedded soft in moss and rushes,
And the good Nokomis answered : Safely bound with reindeer sinews ; “ 'Tis the heaven of flowers you see there; Stilled his fretful wail by saying, All the wild flowers of the forest, “Hush ! the naked bear will get thee !" All the lilies of the prairie, Lulled him into slumber, singing, When on earth they fade and perish, “Ewa-yea ! my little owlet!
Blossom in that heaven above us." Who is this, that lights the wigwam? When he heard the owls at midnight, With his great eyes lights the wigwam? Hooting, laughing in the forest, Ewa-yea ! my little owlet!”
“ What is that?" he cried in terror,
Talking in their native language,
Learned of every bird its language,
· Learned their names and all their secrets, In the frosty nights of Winter ;
How they built their nests in Summer, Showed the broad, white road in heaven, Where they hid themselves in Winter, Pathway of the ghosts, the shadows, Talked with them whene'er he met them, Running straight across the heavens, Called them “Hiawatha's Chickens." Crowded with the ghosts, the shadows. 1 Of all the beasts he learned the lanAt the door on Summer evenings
guage, Sat the little Hiawatba;
Learned their names and all their secrets, Heard the whispering of the pine-trees, How the beavers built their lodges, Heard the lapping of the water, Where the squirrels hid their acorns, Sounds of music, words of wonder; How the reindeer ran so swiftly, “Minne-wawa!" said the pine-trees, Why the rabbit was so timid, “Mudway-aushka !" said the water. Talked with them whene'er he met them,
Saw the fire-fly, Wah-wab-taysee, Called them “Hiawatha's Brothers.' Flitting through the dusk of evening, Then Iagoo, the great boaster, With the twinkle of its candle
He the marvellous story-teller,
From a branch of ash he made it, Little, flitting, white-fire insect, From an oak-bough made the arrows, Little, dancing, white-fire creature, Tipped with flint, and winged with Light me with your little candle,
feathers, Ere upon my bed I lay me,
And the cord he made of deer-skin. Ere in sleep I close my eyelids !" | Then he said to Hiawatha
Saw the moon rise from the water, “Go, my son, into the forest,
All alone walked Hiawatha
And the birds sang round him, o'er him, Right against the moon he threw her ; “Do not shoot us, Hiawatha!” 'Tis her body that you see there." Sang the robin, the Opechee,
Saw the rainbow in the heaven, Sang the blue-bird, the Owaissa,