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32X

THE

HENR

HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW

CAMBRIDGE

^xinm at tl)e Httersfioe ^m&

1886

EVANGELINE
THE SONG OF HIAWATHA

THE COURTSHIP OF MILES
STANDISH

1 ^ S (^

18 0877

M'at l^untiwU Copied l^rinttH

M..

CONTENTS

EVANGELINE: A TALE OF ACADIE. paob

Introductory Note 7

Evangeline 19

THE SONG OF HIAWATHA.

Introductory Note IO7

Introduction 113

I. The Pb ace-Pipe 116

II. The Four Winds 122

III. Hiawatha's Childhood 131

IV. Hiawatha and Mudjekeewis . . . 138
V. Hiawatha's Fasting 148

VI. Hiawatha's Friends I57

VII. Hiawatha's Sailing 162

VIII. Hiawatha's Fishing 167

IX. Hiawatha and the Pearl-Feather . . 174

X. Hiawatha's Wooing 183

XI. Hiawatha's Wedding-Feast . . . .192
XII. The Son of the Evening Stab . . . 200

XIII. Blessing the Cornfields 2II

XIV. Picture-Writinq 218

XV. Hiawatha's Lamentation 224

XVI. Pau-Puk-Keewis 231

XVII. The Hunting of Pau-Puk-Keewis . . . 239
XVHI. The Death of Kwasind .... 250

XIX. The Ghosts 254

XX. The Fabune 261

XXI. The White Man's Foot 266

XXII. Hiawatha's Departure .... 274

CONTENTS

THE COURTSHIP OF MILES STANDISH
Inthoductoby Note ....
I. Miles Standish ....
II. Love and Fuiendship .
HI. The Lover's Ekkanp .

IV. John Alden

V. The Sailing of the Mayflower

VI. Priscula

VII. The March of Miles Standish
VIII. The Spinnino-Wheel .

IX. The Weddino-Day
NOTES

283
285
200
206
806
315
324
330
330
343
349

! t

EVANGELINE

INTRODUCTORY NOTE.

In Hawthorne's American Note-Boohs is the
following passage : —

" H. L. C. heard from a French Canadian a
story of a young couple in Acadie. On their mar-
riage-day all the men of the Province were sum-
moned to assemble in the church to hear a procla-
mation. When assembled, they were all seized
and shipped off to be distributed through New
England, — among them the new bridegroom.
His bride set off in search of him — wandered
about New England all her life-time, and at last
when she was old, she found her bridegroom on his
death-bed. The shock was so great that it killed
her likewise."

This is the story, as set down by the romancer,
which his friend, the Rev. H. L. Conolly, had
heard from a parishioner. Mr. ConoUy saw in
it a fine theme for a romance, but for some rea-
son Hawthorne was disinclined to undertake it.
One day the two were dining with Mr. Longfel-
low, and Mr. Conolly told the story again and
wondered that Hawthorne did not care for it.
" If you really do not want this incident for a
tale," said Mr. Longfellow to his friend, " let me
have it for a poem." Just when the conversation

EVANGELINE

took place wo cannot say, but the poem was begun
apparently just after the comi)letion of the volume,
The Belfry of Bruges and other Poems. The
narrative of its development can best be told by
the passages in Mr. Longfellow's diary which note
the progress of the poem.

November 28, 1845. Set about Gahrielle, my idyll
in liexameters, in earnest. I do not mean to let a day
go by without adding something to it, if it be but a sin-
gle line. F. and Sumner are both doubtful of the meas-
ure. To me it seems the only one for such a poem.

November 30. In the night, rain, rain, rain. A
pleasant sound. Lying awake I mused thus : —

Fleasaiit it is to hear the sound of the rattling rain upon the
roof,

Ceaselessly falling through the night from the clouds that
pass so far aloof ;

Pleasant it is to hear the sound of the village clock that
strikes the hour,

Dropping its notes like drops of rain from the darksome bel-
fry in the tower.

December 7. I know not what name to give to —
not my new baby, but xny new poem. Shall it be Gay
briellc, or Celestine, or Evangeline ?

January 8, 1846. Striving, but alas, how vainly ! to
work upon Evangeline. One interruption after another,
till I long to fly to the desert for a season.

January 12. The vacation is at hand. I hope be-
fore its close to get far on in Evangeline. Two cantos
are now done ; which is a good beginning.

April 5. After a month's cessation resumed Evan-
geline, — the sister of mercy. I hope now to carry it
on to its close without break.

May 20. Tried to work at Evangeline, Unsuccess-
ful. Gave it up.

INTRODUCTORY NOTE

May 25. The days die and make no sign. The
Castalian fount is still. It has become a pool which no
descending angel troubles.

Julj- 9. Idly busy days ; days which leave no record
in verse ; no advance made in my long-neglected yet
dearly loved Evangeline. The cares of the world choke
the good seed. But these stones 7nust be cleared away.

October 11. I am in despair at the swift flight of
time, and the utter impossibility I feel to lay hold ujjon
anything permanent. All my hours and days go to
perishable things. Col'ege takes half the time ; and
other people, with their interminable letters and poems
and requests and demands, take the rest. I have hardly
a moment to think of my own writings, and am cheated
of some of life's fairest hours. This is the extreme of
folly ; and if I knew a man, far olf in some foreign
land, doing as I do here, I should say ho was mad.

November 17. I said as I dressed myself this morn-
ing, " To-day at least I will work on Evangeline" But
no sooner had I breakfasted than there came a note

from , to be answered forthwith ; then , to talk

about a doctor ; then Mr. Bates, to put up a fireplace ;
then this journal, to be written for a week. And now
it is past eleven o'clock, and the sun shines so brightly
upon my desk and papers that I can write no more.

December 10. Laid up with a cold. Moped and
mowed the day through. Made an effort, however, and
commenced the second part of Evangeline. I felt all
day wretched enough to give it the sombre tone of col-
oring that belongs to the theme.

December 15. Stayed at home, working a little on
Evangeline ; planning out the second part, which fasci-
nates me, — if I can but give complete tone and expres-
sion to it. Of materials for this part there is super-
abundance. The difficulty is to select, and give unity
to variety.

EVANCEUNE

Decnmbcr 17. FiniHhod this morning, and copied,
the first canto of tho H<'(!ond i)art of Kmngellne. The
portions of tho poem which I write in tho morning, I
write chiefly standing at my desk here [hy tlie window],
BO as to need no copying. What I write at other times
is scrawled with a jjencil on my knee in the dark, and
has to he written out afterward. This way of writing
with a pencil and portfolio I enjoy much ; as I can sit
by tho fireside ind do not use my eyes. I see a dio-
rama of the jMississippi advertised. This comes very
a propos. The river comes to me instead of my going
to the river ; and as it is to flow through the pages of
the poem, I look upon this as a special benediction.

December 19. Went to see Banvard's moving dio-
rama of tho Mississippi. One seems to be sailing down
the great stream, and sees the boats and the sand-banks
crested with cottonwood, and the bayous by moonlight.
Three miles of canvas, and a great deal of merit.

December 29. I hoped to do much on my poem
to-day ; and did nothing. My whole morning was taken
up with letters and doing up New Year's gifts.

January 7, 1847. Went to the Library and got
Watson's Annals of Philadelphia and the Historical
Collections of Pennsylvania. Also Darby's Geograph-
ical Description of Louisiana. These books must help
me through the last part of Evangeline, so far as facts
and local coloring go. But for the form and the po-
etry, — they must come from my own brain.

January 14. Finished the last canto of Evangeline.
But the poem is not finished. There are three inter-
mediate cantos to be written.

January 18. Billings came to hear some passages
in Evangeline, previous to making designs. As I read,
I grew discouraged. Alas, how difficult it is to produce
anything really good ! Now I see nothing but the

t '

INTRODUCTORY NOTE

defects of my work. I liopo the oritics will not find
flo many a» 1 do. But onward I The poem, like lovo,
must " julvaneo or die."

January 22. Wrote in Emnr}dine. Then walked
a couple of hours. After dinner, a couple more. In
the evening, the whiHt cluh.

.lanuary 23. Mornin<j; as yesterday, — sitting hy the
fire in a darkened room, writing with a pencil in my
portfolio, without the use of eyes.

January 2C. Finished second canto of Part II. of
Evatifjelhie.

February 1. During the day worked busily and
pleasantly on Evangeline, — canto third of Part II. It
is nearly fmished.

February 2. Shrouded in a cold, which covers me
like a monk's hood. I am confident it is often sheer
laziness, when a poet refrains from writing because he
is not " in the mood." Until he begins he can hardly
know whether he is in the mood or not. It is reluctance
to the manual labor of recording one's thoughts ; per-
ha])3 to the mental labor of setting them in due order.

February 17. Find the ground covered with snow,
to my sorrow ; for what comes as snow departs as mud.
Wrote description of the prairies for Evanr/eline.

February 23. Evangeline is nearly finished. I
shall complete it this week, together with my fortieth
year.

February 27. Evangeline is ended. I wrote the
last lines this morning.

February 28. The last day of February. Waded
to church through snow and water ankle-deep. The
remainder of the day, was warmly housed, save a walk
on the piazza. When evening came, I really missed
the poem and the pencil.

March 6. A lovely spring morning. I began to

i ill!

EVANGELINE

revise and correct Evangeline for the press. Went
carefully over tiie first canto.

April 3. The first canto of Evangeline in proofs.
Some of the lines need pounding ; nails are to be driven
and clenched. On the whole I am pretty well satisfied.
Fields came out in the afternoon. I told him of the
poem, and he wants to publish it.

April 9. Proof-sheets of Evangeline all tattooed

with Folsom's^ marks,
much the better.

How severe he is ! But so

Evangeline was published October 30, 1847,
and Hawthorne, who had taken a lively interest in
the poem, wrote a few days after, to say that he
had read it " with more pleasure than it would be
decorous to express." Mr. Longfellow, in reply-
ing, thanked him for a friendly notice which he
had written for a Salem paper, and add-^d : " Still
more do I thank you for resigning I;o me that
legend of Acady. This success I owe entirely to
you, for being willing to forego the pleasure of
writing a prose tale which many people would
have taken for poetry, that I might write a poem
which many people take for prose."

The notes which we have taken from Mr. Long-
fellow's diary intimate, in a degree, the method of
his preparation for writing the poem. He was not
writing a history, nor a book of travels. He drew
upon the nearest, most accessible materials, which
at that time were to be found in Haliburton's
An Historical and Statistical Account of Nova
Scotia, with its liberal quotations from the Abb^

^ Hia friend, Mr. Charles Folsom, was then proof-reador at the
printing-o£Eice where the book was set up.

INTRODUCTORY NOTE

Went

I
I

Raynal's emotional account of the French settlers.
He may have examined Winslow'a narrative of the
expedition under his command, in the cabinet of
the Massachusetts Historical Society, not then
printed, but since that time made easily accessible.
He did not visit Grand-Pr6 nor the Mississippi
but trusted to descriptions and Banvard's ulo-
At the time of the publication of Evange-

rama.

line the actual history of the deportation of the
Acadians had scarcely been investigated. It is
not too much to say that this tale was itself the
cause of the frequent studies since made, studies
which have resulted in a revision of the accepted
rendering of the facts. The publication by the
government of Nova Scotia in 1869 of Selections
from the Public Documents of the Province of
Nova Scotia, edited by Thomas B. Akins, D. C. L.,
Commissioner of Public Records, threw a great
deal of light on the relations of the French and
English ; A History of Nova Scotia, or Acadie, by
Beamish Murdock, published in 1866, and ITie
History of Acadia from the First Discovery to its
Surrender to England hy the treaty of Paris, by
James Hannay, published in 1879, furnish oppor-
tunities for an examination of the subject, and re-
cently the work by Dr. Francis Parkman on Mont-
calm and Wolfe gives special attention to the ex-
pulsion of the Acadians. Dr. "^v. J. Anderson
published a paper in the Transactions of the Lit-
erary and Historical Society of Quebec, New Se-
ries, part 7, 1870, entitled Evangeline and the Ar-
chives of Nova Scotia, in which he examines the
poem in the light of Mr. Akins's work, finding.

i m<

EVANGELINE

V-

after all, a substantial agreement between the poem
and the documents.

Mr. Longfellow gave to a Philadelphia journal-
ist a reminiscence of his first notice of the material
which was used in the conclusion of the poem.
" I was passing down Spruce Street one day to-
ward my hotel, after a walk, when my attention
was attracted to a large building with beautiful
trees about it, inside of a high enclosure.^ I walked
along until I came to the great gate, and then
stepped inside, and looked carefully over the place.
The charming picture of lawn, flower-beds and
shade which it presented made an impression
which has never left me, and when I came to write
Evangeline I placed the final scene, the meeting
between Evangeline and Gabriel, and the death,
at the poor-house, and the burial in an old Catho-
lic grave-yard not far away, which I found by
chance in another of my walks."

It will have been noticed that Mr. Longfellow
from the outset had no hesitation in the choice of
a metre. He had before experimented in it in his
translation of 27ie Cu'Jdren of the Lord's Supper^
and in his lines To the Driving Cloud. While
engaged upon Evangeline he chanced upon a spe-
cimen in Blackwood of a hexameter translation of
the Iliad, and expressed himself very emphatically
on its fitness. " Took down Chapman's Horner^''
he writes later, " and read the second book.
Rough enough ; and though better than Pope, how
inferior to the books in hexameter in Blackwood !
The English world is not yet awake to the beauty

^ The Pennsylvania Hospital.

INTRODUCTORY NOTE

>»

of that metre." After his poem was published, he
wrote : " The public takes more kindly to hexame-
ters than I could have imagined," and referring to
a criticism on Evangeline by Mr. Felton, in which
the metre was considered, he said : " I am more
than ever glad that I chose this metre for my
poem." Again he notes in his diary : " Talked
with Theophilus Parsons about English hexame-
ters ; and ' almost persuaded him to be a Chris-
tian.' " While his mind was thus dwelling on the
subject, he fell into the measure in his journal en-
tries, and in these lines under date of December
18, 1847.

Soft through the silent air descend the feathery snow-flakes ;
White are the distant hills, white are the neighboring fields ;
Only the marshes are brown, and the river rolling among them
Weareth the leaden hue seen in the eyes of the blind.

Especially interesting is the experiment which
he made, while in the process of his work, in an-
other metre. " Finished second canto of Part II.
of Evangeline. I then tried a passage of it in the
common rhymed English pentameter. It is the
song of the mocking-bird : —

Upon a spray that overhung the stream.
The mocking-bird, awaking from his dream.
Poured such delirious music from his throat
That all the air seemed listening to his note.
Plaintive at first the song began, and slow ;
It breathed of sadness, and of pain and woe ;
Then, gathering all his notes, abroad he flung
The multitudinous music from his tongue, —
As, after showers, a sudden gust again
Upon the leaves shakes down the rattling rain."

As the story of Evangeline was the incentive to
historical inquiry, so the successful use of the hex-

■•I

i ^

EVANGELINE

ameter had much to do both with the revival of
the measure and with a critical discussion upon its
value. Arthur Hugh Clough employed the metre
in his pastoral poem, T7ie Bothie of Toper-na-
Vuolich, and wrote to Mr. Emerson : " Will you
convey to Mr. Longfellow the fact that it was a
reading of his Evangeline aloud to my mother and
sister, which, coming after a reperusal of the Iliad,
occasioned this outbreak of hexameters ? "

The reader wiU find the subject of hexameters
discussed by Matthew Arnold in his lectures On
Translating Homer ; by James Spedding in Eng-
lish Hexameters^ in his volume Reviews and Dis-
cussions, Literary, Political and Historical, not
relating to Bacon ; and by John Stuart Blackie in
Remarks on English Hexameters contained in his
volume Horm Hellenicce.

" Of the longer poems of our chief singer,"
says Dr. Holmes, " I should not hesitate to select
Evangeline as the masterpiece, and I think the
general verdict of opinion would confirm my choice.
The German model which it follows in its measure
and the character of its story was itself suggested
by an earlier idyl. If Dorothea was the mother
of Evangeline, Luise was the mother of Dorothea.
And what a beautiful creation is the Acadian
maiden ! From the first line of the poem, from
its first words, we read as we would float down a
broad and placid river, murmuring softly against
its banks, heaven over it, and the glory of the un-
spoiled wilderness all around, —

This is the forest primeTal.

INTRODUCTORY NOTE
The words are already as familiar as

Arma Tirumqne oano.

The hexameter has been often criticised, but I do
not believe any other measure could have told that
lovely story with such effect, as we feel when car-
ried along the tranquil current of these brimming,
slow-moving, soul-satisfying lines. Imagine for
one moment a story like this minced into octo-
syllabics. The poet knows better than his critics
the length of step which best befits his muse."

The publication of Evangeline doubtless marks
the period of Mr. Longfellow's greatest accession
of fame, as it probably is the poem which the ma-
jority of readers would first name if called upon to
indicate the poet's most commanding work. It
was finished, as we have seen, upon his fortieth
birthday. Two days before, the following lines
were written by Mr. Longfellow in his diary : —

EPIGRAMftlE

Par un ci-devant jeune homme, en approchant de la quarantaine.

" Sous le firmament
Tout n'est que changement,

Tout passe ; ' '
Le cantique le dit,
II est ainsi dcrit,
II est sans contredit,
Tout passe.

O douce vie humaine !

O temps qui nous entraiue !

EVANGELINE

Destin^e souveraino !

Tout chanjs^e.
Moi qui, po^te r§veur,
Ne f us jamais f riseur,
Je frise, — oh, quelle horreurl

La quarantaine !

This is t
ai

Bearded
til

Stand lik

Stand lik
th

Loud f roi
bo

Speaks, a
wa

This is

he
Leaped li!

lai
Where is

Ac
Men whos

the
Darkened

imi
Waste ar(

for

EVANGELINE

A TALE OF ACADIE.

This is the forest primeval. The murmuring pines
and the hemlocks,

Bearded with moss, and in garments green, indis-
tinct in the twilight,

Stand like Druids of eld, with voices sad and pro-
phetic,

Stand like harpers hoar, with beards that rest on
their bosoms.

Loud from its rocky caverns, the deep-voiced neigh-
boring ocean

Speaks, and in accents disconsolate answers the
wail of the forest.

This is the forest primeval ; but where are the
hearts that beneath it

Leaped like the roe, when he hears in the wood-
land the voice of the huntsman ?

Where is the thatch-roofed village, the home of
Acadian farmers, —

Men whose lives glided on like rivers that water
the woodlands.

Darkened by shadows of earth, but reflecting an
image of heaven?

Waste are those pleasant farms, and the farmers
forever departed !

EVANGELINE

■

Scattered like dust and leaves, when the iiiighty
blasts of October

Seize them, and whirl them aloft, and sprinkle them
far o'er the ocean.

Naught but tradition remains of the beautiful vil-
lage of Grand-Pr<j.

Ye who believe in affection that hopes, and en-
dures, and is patient,

Yc who believe in the beauty and strength of
woman's devotion,

List to the mournful tradition, still sung by the
pines of the forest ;

List to a Tale of Love in Acadie, home of the
happy.

PART THE FIRST.

In the Acadian land, on the shores of the Basin

of Minas,
Distant, secluded, stiU, the little village of Grand-

Pr<j
Lay in the fruitful valley. Vast meadows stretched

to the eastward,
Giving the village its name, and pasture to flocks

without number.
Dikes, that the hands of the farmers had raised

with labor incessant.
Shut out the turbulent tides ; but at stated seasons

the flood-gates
Opened, and welcomed the sea to wander at will

o'er the meadows.

EVANGELINE

West and south there were fields of flax, and or-
chards and cornfields
Spreading afar and unfenced o'er the plain ; and

away to the northward
Blomidon rose, and the forests old, and aloft on

the mountains
Sea-fogs pitched their tents, and mists from the

mighty Atlantic
Looked on the happy valley, but ne'er from their

station descended.
There, in the midst of its fare •. reposed the Aca-
dian village.
Strongly built were the houses, with frames of oak

and of hemlock.
Such as the peasants of Normandy built in the

reign of the Henries.
Thatched were the roofs, with dormer-windows ;

and gables projecting
Over the basement below protected and shaded the

doorway.
There in the tranquil evenings of summer, when

brightly the sunset
Lighted the village street, and gilded the vanes on

the chimneys.
Matrons and maidens sat in snow-white caps and

in kirtles
Scarlet and blue and green, with distafEs spinning

the golden
Flax for the gossiping looms, whose noisy shuttles

within doors
Mingled their sounds with the whir of the wheels

and the songs of the maidens.

Line 7. Strongly built were the houses, with frames of oak and of chestnut,

EVANGELINE

Solemnly down the street came the parish priest,

and the children
Paused in their ])lay to kiss the hand he extended

to bless them.
Reverend walked he among them ; and up rose

matrons and maidens,
Hailing his slow approach with words of affection-
ate welcome.
Then came the laborers home from the field, and

serenely the sun sank
Down to his rest, and twilight prevailed. Anon

from the belfry
Softly the Angelus sounded, and over the roofs of

the village
Columns of pale blue smoke, like clouds of incense

ascending.
Rose from a hundred hearths, the homes of peace

and contentment.
Thus dwelt together in love these simple Acadian

farmers, —
Dwelt in the love of God and of man. Alike were

they free from
Fear, that reigns with the tyrant, and envy, the

vice of republics.
Neither locks had they to their doors, nor bars to

their windows ;
But their dwellings were open as day and the

hearts of the owners ;
There the richest was poor, and the poorest lived

in abundance.

Somewhat apart from the village, and nearer the
Basin of Minas,

EVANGELINE

Benedict BcUcfontaine, the wealthiest farmer of

Grand- l*rd,
Dwelt on his goodly acres ; and with him, direct-
ing his household,
Gentle Evangeline lived, his child, and the pride

of the village.
Stalworth and stately in form was the man of sev-
enty winters ;
Hearty and hale was he, an oak that is covered

with snow-flakes ;
White as the snow were his locks, and his cheeks

as brown as the oak-leaves.
Fair was she to behold, that maiden of seventeen

summers.
Black were her eyes as the berry that grows on the

thorn by the wayside.
Black, yet how softly they gleamed beneath the

brown shade of her tresses !
Sweet was her breath as the breath of kine that

feed in the meadows.
When in the harvest heat she bore to the reapers

at noontide
Flagons of home-brewed ale, ah ! fair in sooth was

the maiden.
Fairer was she when, on Sunday morn, while the

bell from its turret
Sprinkled with holy sounds the air, as the priest

with his hyssop
Sprinkles the congregation, and scatters blessings

upon them,
Down the long street she passed, with her chaplet

of beads and her missal.
Wearing her Norman cap, and her kirtle of blue,

and the ear-rings,

•i\

EVANGELINE

1 1'

Brought in tho olden tiiuo from Franco, and since,
aH an heirloom,

Handed down from mother to child, through long
goncratious.

But a celestial brightness — a more ethereal
beauty —

Shone on linr face and encircled her form, when,
after confession.

Homeward serenely she walked with God*s bene-
diction upon her.

When she had passed, it seemed like the ceasing
of exquisite music.

Firmly buildcd with rafters of oak, the house

of the farmer
Stood on the side of a hill commanding the sea ;

and a shady
Sycamore grew by the door, with a woodbine

wreathing around it.
Rudely carved was the porch, with seats beneath ;

and a footpath
Led through an orchard wide, and disappeared in

the meadow.
Under the sycamore-tree were hives overhung by a

penthouse,
Such as the traveller sees in regions remote by the

roadside,
Built o'er a box for the poor, or the blessed image

of Mary.
Farther down, on the slope of the hill, was the

well with its moss-grown
Bucket, fastened with iron, and near it a trough

for the horses.

EVANGELINE

Shielding tho house from Htornu;, on the north,
were tho barns luul tho farm-yard.

There stood tho broad-wheeled wains and the an-
tique ploughs and tho harrows ;

There were tho folds for tho sheep ; and there, in
his feathered seraglio,

Stmttod the lordly turkey, and crowed tho cock,
with the selfsanio

Voice that in ages of old had startled the penitent
Peter.

Bursting with hay were tho barns, themselves a vil-
lage. In each one

Far o'er the gable projected a roof of thatch ; and
a staircase,

Under the sheltering eaves, led up to the odorous
corn-loft.

There too the dove-cot stood, with its meek and in-
nocent inmates

Murmuring ever of love ; while above in the vari-
ant breezes

Numberless noisy weathercocks rattled and sang of
mutation.

Thus, at peace with God and the world, the far-
mer of Grand-Pr(i

Lived on his sunny farm, and Evangeline governed
his household.

Many a youth, as he knelt in church and opened
his missal.

Fixed his eyes upon her as the saint of his deepest
devotion ;

Happy was he who might touch her hand or the hem
of her garment !

Line 14. Many a youth, as he knelt in tho church and opened his missal,

i
i

!
I

|i'!'

HfS'i

EVANGELINE

Many a suitor came to her door, by the darkness
befriended,

And, as he knocked and waited to hear the sound
of her footstei)s,

Knew not which beat the louder, his heart or the
knocker of iron ;

Or at the joyous feast of the Patron Saint of the
village.

Bolder grew, and pressed her hand in the dance as
he whispered

Hurried words of love, that seemed a part of the
music.

But, among all who came, young Gabriel only was
welcome ;

Gabriel Lajeunesse, the son of Basil the black-
smith.

Who was a mighty man in the village, and hon-
ored of aU men ;

For, since the birth of time, throughout all ages
and nations,

Has the craft of the smith been held in repute by
the people.

Basil was Benedict's friend. Their children from
earliest childhood

Grew up together as brother and sister ; and Fa-
ther Felician,

Priest and pedagogue both in the village, had
taught them their letters

Out of the selfsame book, with the hymns of the
church and the plain-song.

But when the hymn was sung, and the daily les-
son completed,

Swiftly they hurried away to the forge of Basil the
blacksmith.

EVANGELINE

There at the door they stood, with wondering eyes

to behold him
Take in his leathern lap the hoof of the horse as

a plaything,
Nailing the shoe in its place ; while near him the

tire of the cart-wheel
Lay like a fiery snake, coiled round in a circle of

cinders.
Oft on autumnal eves, when without in the gath-
ering darkness
Bursting with light seemed the smithy, through

every cranny and crevice.
Warm by the forge within they watched the labor-
ing bellows.
And as its panting ceased, and the sparks expired

in the ashes.
Merrily laughed, and said they were nuns going

into the chapel.
Oft on sledges in winter, as swift as the swoop of

the eagle,
Down the hillside bounding, they glided away o'er

the meadow.
Oft in the barns they climbed to the populous nests

on the rafters.
Seeking with eager eyes that wondrous stone, which

the swallow
Brings from the shore of the sea to restore the sight

of its fledglings ;
Lucky was he who found that stone in the nest of

the swallow !
Thus passed a few swift years, and they no longer

were children.
He was a valiant youth, and his face, like the face

of the morning.

('I

EVANGELINE

Gladdened the earth with its light, and ripened
thought into action.

She was a woman now, with the heart and hopes of
a woman.

" Sunshine of Saint Eulalie " was she called ; for
that was the sunshine

Which, as the farmers believed, would load their
orchards with apples ;

She, too, would bring to her husband's house de-
light and abundance.

Filling it with love and the ruddy faces of chil-
dren.

>B1!

I?"'

II.

Now had the season returned, when the nights grow

colder and longer,
And the retreating sun the sign of the Scorpion

enters.
Birds of passage sailed through the leaden air,

from the ice-bound.
Desolate northern bays to the shores of tropical

islands.
Harvests were gathered in ; and wild with the

winds of September
Wrestled the trees of the forest, as Jacob of old

with the angel.
All the signs foretold a winter long and inclem-
ent.
Bees, with prophetic instinct of want, had hoarded

their honey
Till the hives overflowed ; and the Indian hunters

asserted

Line 6. Filling it full of love and the ruddy faces of children.

EVANGELINE

Cold would the winter be, for tliick was the fur of

the foxes.
Such was the advent of autumn. Then followed

that beautiful season,
Called by the pious Acadian peasants the Summer

of All-Saints !
Filled was the air with a dreamy and magical light;

and the landscape
Lay as if new-created in all the freshness of child-
hood.
Peace seemed to reign upon earth, and the restless

heart of the ocean
Was for a moment consoled. All sounds were in

harmony blended.
Voices of children at play, the crowing of cocks in

the farm-yards.
Whir of wings in the drowsy air, and the cooing

of pigeons.
All were subdued and low as the murmurs of love,

and the great sun
Looked with the eye of love through the golden

vapors around him ;
While arrayed in its robes of russet and scarlet and

yellow.
Bright with the sheen of the dew, each glittering

tree of the forest
Flashed like the plane-tree the Persian adorned

with mantles and jewels.

Now recommenced the reign of rest and affection
and stillness.
Day with its burden and heat had departed, and
twilight descending

EVANGELINE

'li

Brought back the evening star to the sky, and the

herds to the homestead.
Pawing the ground they came, and resting their

necks on each other,
And with their nostrils distended inhaling the fresh-
ness of evening.
Foremost, bearing the bell, Evangeline's beautiful

heifer,
Proud of her snow-white hide, and the ribbon that

waved from her collar.
Quietly paced and slow, as if conscious of human

affection.
Then came the shepherd back with his bleating

flocks from the seaside.
Where was their favorite pasture. Behind them

followed the watch-dog.
Patient, full of importance, and grand in the pride

of his instinct.
Walking from side to side with a lordly air, and

superbly
Waving his bushy tail, and urging forward the

stragglers ;
Regent of flocks was he when the she^ herd slept ;

their protector.
When from the forest at night, through the starry-
silence the wolves howled.
Late, with the rising moon, returned the wains from

the marshes.
Laden with briny hay, that filled the air with its

odor.
Cheerily neighed the steeds, with dew on their

manes and their fetlocks.
While aloft on their shoulders the wooden and

ponderous saddles.

EVANGELINE

Painted with brilliant dyes, and adorned with tas-
sels of crimson,

Nodded in bright array, like hollyhocks heavy with
blossoms.

Patiently stood the cows meanwhile, and yielded
their udders

Unto the milkmaid's hand ; whilst loud and in reg-
ular cadence

Into the sounding pails the foaming streamlets de-
scended.

Lowing of cattle and peals of laughter were heard
in the farm-yard.

Echoed back by the bams. Anon they sank into
stillness ;

Heavily closed, with a jarring sound, the valves of
the barn-doors.

Battled the wooden bars, and all for a season was
silent.

In-doors, warm by the wide-mouthed fireplace,

idly the farmer
Sat in his elbow-chair and watched how the flames

and the smoke-wreaths
Straggled together like foes in a burning city.

Behind him,
Nodding and mocking along the wall, with ges-
tures fantastic.
Darted bis own huge shadow, and vanished away

into darkness.
Faces, clumsily carved in oak, on the back of his

arm-chair
Laughed in the flickering light ; and the pewter

plates on the dresser

Line 8. Heavily closed, with a creaking sound, the valves of the barn-doors,

EVANGELINE

n m

1 \ ' " l'l!n

Caught and reflected the flame, as shields of ar- I
mies the sunshine.

Fragments of song the old man sang, and carols of
Christmas,

Such as at home, in the olden time, his fathers be-
fore him

Sang in their Norman orchards and bright Bur-
gundian vineyards.

Close at her father's side was the gentle Evange- ^
line seated,

Spinning flax for the loom, that stood in the corner
behind her,

Silent awhile were its treadles, at rest was its dili-
gent shuttle.

While the monotonous drone of the wheel, like the
drone of a bagpipe.

Followed the old man's song and united the frag-
ments together.

As in a church, when the chant of the choir at in-
tervals ceases.

Footfalls are heard in the aisles, or words of the
priest at the altar,

So, in each pause of the song, with measured mo-
tion the clock clicked.

\m\ ':.\

i )

.itl

II;!

Thus as they sat, there were footsteps heard,

and, suddenly lifted,
Sounded the wooden latch, and the door swung

back on its hinges.
Benedict knew by the hob-nailed shoes it was Basil

the blacksmith,
And by her beating heart Evangeline knew who

was with him.

EVANGELINE

" Welcome ! " the farmer exclaimed, as their foot-
steps paused on the threshold,

"Welcome, Basil, my friend! Come, take thy
place on the settle

Close by the chimney-side, which is always empty
without thee ;

Take from the shelf overhead thy pipe and the box
of tobacco ;

Never so much thyself art thou as when through
the curling

Smoke of the pipe or the forge thy friendly and
jovial face gleams

Bound and red as the harvest moon through the
mist of the marshes."

Then, with a smile of content, thus answered Basil
the blacksmith.

Taking with easy air the accustomed seat by the
fireside : —

" Benedict Bellefontaine, thou hast ever thy jest
and thy ballad!

Ever in cheerfullest mood art thou, when others
are filled with

Gloomy forebodings of ill, and see only ruin be-
fore them.

Happy art thou, as if every day thou hadst picked
up a horseshoe."

Pausing a moment, to take the pipe that Evange-
line brought him,

And with a coal from the embers had lighted, he
slowly continued : —

" Four days now are passed since the English ships
at their anchors

Ride in the Gaspereau's mouth, with their cannon
pointed against us.

EVANGELINE

AVhat their design may be is unknown ; but all are ,

commanded
On the morrow to meet in the church, where his i

Majesty's mandate
Will be proclaimed as law in the land. Alas ! in |

the mean time
Many surmises of evil alarm the hearts of the pec- 1

pie."
Then made answer the farmer : " Perhaps some |

friendlier purpose
Brings these ships to our shores. Perhaps the har-
vests in England
By untimely rains or untimelier heat have been

blighted,
And from our bursting barns they would feed their

cattle and children."
" Not so thinketh the folk in the village," said,

warmly, the blacksmith,
Shaking his head, as in doubt ; then, heaving a

sigh, he continued : —
" Louisburg is not forgotten, nor Beau Sdjour, nor

Port Royal.
Many already have fled to the forest, and lurk on

its outskirts.
Waiting: with anxious hearts the dubious fate of

to-morrow.
Arms have been taken from us, and warlike weap-
ons of all kinds ;
Nothing is left but the blacksmith's sledge and the

scythe of the mower."
Then with a pleasant smile made answer the jovial

farmer : —
" Safer are we unarmed, in the midst of our flocks

and our cornfields.

EVANGELINE 35

Safer within these peaceful dikes, besieged by the

ocean,
Than our fathers in forts, besieged by the enemy's

cannon.
Fear no evil, my friend, and to-night may no

shadow of sorrow
Fall on this house and hearth ; for this is the night

of the contract.
Built are the house and the barn. The merry lads

of the village
Strongly have built them and well ; and, breaking

the glebe round about them.
Filled the bam with hay, and the house with food

for a twelvemonth.
Hen^ Leblanc will be here anon, with his papers

and inkhorn.
Shall we not then be glad, and rejoice in the joy of

our children ? "
As apart by the window she stood, with her hand

in her lover's.
Blushing Evangeline heard the words that her

father had spoken,
And, as they died on his lips, the worthy notary

entered.

I Bent like a laboring oar, that toils in the surf of
§ the ocean,

I Bent, but not broken, by age was the form of the
I notary public ;

Shocks of yellow hair, like the silken floss of the
maize, hung

EVANGELINE

'I Mil

Over his shoulders ; his forehead was high ; and |

glasses with horn bows
Sat astride on his nose, with a look of wisdom su- j

pernal.
Father of twenty children was he, and more than

a hundred
Children's children rode on his knee, and heard his

great watch tick.
Four long years in the times of the war had he

languished a captive.
Suffering much in an old French fort as the friend

of the English.
Now, though warier grown, without all guile or

suspicion,
Eipe in wisdom was he, but patient, and simple,

and childlike.
He was beloved by all, and most of all by the

children ;
For he told them tales of the Loup-garou in the

forest,
And of the gobliii that came in the night to water

the horses.
And of the white Ldtiche, the ghost of a child who

unchristened
Died, and was doomed to haunt unseen the cham-
bers of children ;
And how on Christmas eve the oxen talked in the

stable,
And how the fever was cured by a spider shut up

in a nutshell.
And of the marvellous powers of four-leaved clover

and horseshoes.
With whatsoever else was wiit in the lore of the

village.

EVANGELINE

Then up rose from his seat by the fireside Basil the
blacksmith,

Knocked from his pipe the ashes, and slowly ex-
tending his right hand,

" Father Leblanc," he exclaimed, " thou hast heard
the talk in the village,

And, perchance, canst tell us some news of theso
ships and their errand."

Then with modest demeanor made answer the no-
tary public, —

"Gossip enough have I heard, in sooth, yet am
never the wiser ;

And what their errand may be I know not better
than others.

Yet am I not of those who imagine some evil in-
tention

Brings them here, for we are at peace ; and why
then molest us ? "

" God's name ! " shouted the hasty and somewhat
irascible blacksmith ;

" Must we in all things look for the how, and the
why, and the wherefore ?

Daily injustice is done, and might is the right of
the strongest ! "

But without heeding his warmth, continued the
notary public, —

" Man is unjust, but God is just ; and finally jus-
tice

Triumphs ; and well I remember a story, that often
consoled me,

When as a captive I lay in the old French fort at
Port Royal."

This was the old man's favorite tale, and he loved
to repeat it

EVANGELINE

■

When his nci^'libnrH complained that any injustice
was dono them.

" Once in an suu-icnt city, whoso name I no longer
remember,

Raised aloft on a column, a brazen statue of Jus-
tice

Stood In the public square, upholding tho scales in
its left hand,

And in its right a sword, as an emblem that justice
presided

Over the laws of the land, and the hearts and
homes of the people.

Even the birds had built their nests in the scales
of the balance,

Having no fear of the sword that flashed in the
sunshine above them.

But in the course of time the laws of the land were
corrupted ;

Might took the place of right, and the weak were
oppressed, and the mighty

Ruled with an iron rod. Then it chanced in a no-
bleman's palace

That a necklace of pearls was lost, and erelong a
suspicion

Fell on an orphan girl who lived as a maid in the
household.

She, after form of trial condemned to die on the
scaffold,

Patiently met her doom at the foot of the statue of
Justice.

As to her Father in heaven her innocent spirit as-
cended.

Line 1. Whenever neighbors complained that any injustice was done them.
Line 13. Fell on an orphan girl who lived as moid in the household.

EVANGELINE

Lo I o'er tho city a tempost rose ; and the bolts of

tlio thuiulor
Smote the stattio of bronze, ami hurled in wrath

from itH left hand
Down on the pavement below tho clattering Hcales

of tho balance,
And in the hollow thereof was found the nest of a

magpie,
Into whose elay-built walls the necklace oi pearls

was inwoven."
Silenced, but not convinced, when the story was

ended, the blacksmith
Stood like a, man who fain would speak, but findeth

no language ;
All his thoughts were congealed into lines on his

face, as the vapors
Freeze in fantastic shapes on the window-panes in

the winter.

Then Evangeline lighted the brazen lamp on the

table.
Filled, till it overflowed, the pewter tankard with

home-brewed
Nut-brown ale, that was famed for its strength in

the village of Grand-Pr(; ;
While from his pocket the notary drew his papers

and inkhorn,
Wrote with a steady hand the date and the age of

the parties.
Naming the dower of the bride in flocks of sheep

and in cattle.
Orderly all things proceeded, and duly and well

were completed.

Line 8. And all his thoughts congealed into lines on his face, as the vapors

EVANGELINE

\^''ii

And the great seal of the law was set like a sun on

the margin.
Then from his leathern pouch the farmer threw on

the table
Three times the old man's fee in solid pieces of

silver ;
And the notary rising, and blessing the bride and

the bridegroom,
Lifted aloft the tankard of ale and drank to their

welfare.
Wiping the foam from his lip, he solemnly bowed

and departed.
While in silence the others sat and mused by the

fireside,
Till Evangeline brought the draught-board out of

its corner.
Soon was the game begim. In friendly contention

the old men
Laughed at each lucky hit, or unsuccessful ma-
noeuvre.
Laughed when a man was crowned, or a breach was

made in the king-row.
Meanwhile apart, in the twilight gloom of a win-
dow's embrasure,
Sat the lovers, and whispered together, beholding

the moon rise
Over the pallid sea, and the silvery mists of the

meadows.
Silently one by one, in the infinite meadows of

heaven.
Blossomed the lovely stars, the forget-me-nots of the

angels.

Line 14. Over the pallid sea, and the silvery mist of the meadows.

EVANGELINE

Thus was the evening passed. Anon the bell

from the belfry
Rang out the hour of nine, the village curfew, and

straightway
Rose the guests and departed ; and silence reigned

in the household.
Many a farewell word and sweet good-night on the

door-step
Lingered long in Evangeline's heart, and filled it

with gladness.
Carefully then were covered the embers that glowed

on the hearth-stone,
And on the oaken stairs resounded the tread of the

farmer.
Soon with a soundless step the foot of Evangeline

followed.
Up the staircase moved a luminous space in the

darkness.
Lighted less by the lamp than the shining face of

the maiden.
Silent she passed the hall, and entered the door of

her chamber.
Simple that chamber was, with its curtains of white,

and its clothes-press
Ample and high, on whose spacious shelves were

carefully folded
Linen and woollen stuffs, by the hand of Evange-
line woven.
This was the precious dower she would bring to her

husband in marriage.
Better than flocks and herds, being proofs of her

skill as a housewife.

Iiine 11. Silent she passed through the hall, and entered the door of her
chamber.

EVANGELINE

Soon she extinguished her lamp, for the mellow

and radiant moonlight
Streamed through the windows, and lighted the

room, till the heart of the maiden
Swelled and obeyed its power, like the tremulous

tides of the ocean.
Ah ! she was fair, exceeding fair to behold, as she

stood with
Naked snow-white feet on the gleaming floor of her

chamber !
Little she dreamed that below, among the trees of

the orchard.
Waited her lover and watched for the gleam of her

lamp and her shadow.
Yet were her thoughts of him, and at times a feel-
ing of sadness
Passed o'er her soul, as the sailing shade of clouds

in the moonlight
Flitted across the floor and darkened the room for

a moment.
And, as she gazed from the window, she saw se-
renely the moon pass
Forth from the folds of a cloud, and ore star follow

her footsteps,
Akj out of Abraham's tent young Ishmael wandered

with Hagar I

IV.

Pleasantly rose next moin the sun on the village of

Grand-Prd.
Pleasantly gleamed in the soft, sweet air the Basin

of Minas,

EVANGELINE

Where the ships, with their wavering shadows, were
riding at anchor.

Life had long been astir in the village, and clamor-
ous labor

Knocked with its hundred Lands at the golden gates
of the morning.

Now from the country around, from the farms and
neighboring hamlets.

Came in their holiday dresses the ,blithe Acadian
peasants.

Many a glad good-morrow and jocund laugh from
the young folk

Made the bright air brighter, as up from the nu-
merous meadows,

Where nc path could be seen but the track of
wheels in the greensward.

Group Jifter group appeared, and joined, or passed
on the highway.

Long ere noon, in the village all sounds of labor
were silenced.

Thronged were the streets with people ; and noisy
groups at the house-doors

Sat in the cheerful sun, and rejoiced and gossiped
together.

Every house was an inn, where all were welcomed
and feasted ;

For with this simple people, who lived like broth-
ers together,

All things were held in common, and vrhat one had
was another's.

Yet under Benedict's roof hospitality seemed more
abundant :

For Evangeline stood among the guests of her
father ;

i'^

EVANGELINE

.-J
11

:.ii?i!

I'HBiin

Bright was her face with smiles, and words of wel-
come and gladness

Fell from her beautiful lips, and blessed the cup
as she gave it.

Under the open sky, in the odorous air of the

orchard,
Sfcript of its golden fruit, was spread the feast of

betrothal.
There in the shade of the porch were the priest and

the notary seated ;
There good Benedict sat, and sturdy Basil the

blacksmith.
Not far withdrawn from these, by the cider-press

and the beehives,
Michael the fiddler was placed, with the gayest of

hearts and of waistcoats.
Shadow and light from the leaves alternately

played on his snow-white
Hair, as it waved in the wind ; and the jolly face

of the fiddler
Glowed like a living coal when the ashes are blown

from the embers.
Gayly the old man sang to the vibrant sound of

his fiddle,
Tous les Bourgeois de Chartres^ and Le Carillon

de Dunquerque,
And anon with his wooden shoes beat time to the

music.
Merrily, merrily whirled the wheels of the dizzy-
ing dances
Under the orchard-trees ar i down the path to the

meadows ;

EVANGELINE

01(1 folk and young together, and children mingled

among them.
Fairest of all the maids was Evangeline, Benedict's

daughter I
Noblest of all the youths was Gabriel, son of the

blacksmith !

So passed the morning away. And lo ! with a
summons sonorous

Sourded the bell from its tower, and over the
meadows a drum beat.

Thronged erelong was the church with men. With-
out, in the churchyard,

Waited the women. They stood by the graves,
and hung on the headstones

Garlands of autumn - leaves and evergreens fresh
from the forest.

Then came the guard from the ships, and march-
ing proudly among them

Entered the sacred portal. With loud and dis-
sonant clangor

Echoed the sound of their brazen drums from ceil-
ing and casement, —

Echoed a moment only, and slowly the ponderous
portal

Closed, and in silence the crowd awaited the will
of the soldiers.

Then uprose their commander, and spake from the
steps of the altar,

Holding aloft in his hands, with its seals, the royal

commission.

"You are convened this day," he said, "by his
Majesty's orders.

EVANGELINE

I;||i!n|v;

Clement and kind has he been ; but how you have

answered his kindness,
Let your own hearts reply ! To my natural make

and my temper
Painful the task is I do, which to you I know must

be grievous.
Yet must I bow and obey, and deliver the will of

our monarch ;
Namely, that all your lands, and dwellings, and

cattle of all kinds
Forfeited be to the crown ; and that you your-
selves from this province
Be transported to other lands. God grant you

may dwell there
Ever as faithful subjects, a happy and peaceable

people !
Prisoners now I declare you ; for such is his Maj-
esty's pleasure ! "
As, when the air is serene in sultry solstice of

summer,
Suddenly gathers a storm, and the deadly sling of

the hailstones
Beats down the farmer's corn in the field and

shatters his windows.
Hiding the sun, and strewing the ground with

thatch from the house-roofs.
Bellowing fly the herds, and seek to break their

enclosures ;
So on the hearts of the people descended the

words of the speaker.
Silent a moment they stood in speechless wonder,

and then rose
Louder and ever louder a wail of sorrow and

anger.

EVANGELINE

And, by one impulse moved, they madly rushed to

the door-way.
Vain was the hope of escape ; and cries and fierce

imprecations
Rang through the house of prayer ; and high o'er

the heads of the others
Rose, with his arms uplifted, the figure of Basil

the blacksmith,
As, on a stormy sea, a spar is tossed by the bil-
lows.
Flushed was his face and distorted with passion ;

and wildly he shouted, —
" Down with the tyrants of England I we never

have sworn them allegiance I
Death to these foreign soldiers, who seize on our

homes and our harvests ! "
More he fain would have said, but the merciless

hand of a soldier
Smote him upon the mouth, and dragged him

down to the pavement.

)'l

In the midst of the strife and tumult of angry

contention,
Lo ! the door of the chancel opened, and Father

Felician
Entered, with serious mien, and ascended the steps

of the altar.
Raising his reverend hand, with a gesture he awed

into silence
All that clamorous throng ; and thus he spake to

his people ;
Deep were his tones and solemn ; in accents

measured and mournful

EVANGELINE

ll'i'i:

Spake he, as, after the tocsin's alarum, distinctly
the clock strikes.

"What is this that ye do, my children? what
madness has seized you ?

Forty years of my life have I labored among you,
and taught you.

Not in word alone, but in deed, to love one an-
other ?

Is this the fruit of my toils, of my vigils and pray-
ers and privations ?

Have you so soon forgotten all lessons of love and
forgiveness ?

This is the house of the Prince of Peace, and would
you profane it

Thus with violent deeds and hearts overflowing
with hatred ?

Lo I where the crucified Christ from his cross is

gazing upon you

See ! in those sorrowful eyes what meekness and

holy compassion !
Hark ! how those lips still repeat the prayer, * O

Father, forgive them ! '
Let us repeat that prayer in the hour when the

wicked assail us.
Let us repeat it now, and say, * O Father, forgive

them ! ' "
Few were his words of rebuke, but deep in the

hearts of his people
Sank they, and sobs of contrition succeeded the

passionate outbreak.

Line 15. Sank they, and sobs of contrition eucceeded that passionate out-
break,

Line 1. And tb

EVANGELINE

While they repeated his prayer, and said, "O
Father, torgive them ! "

Then came the evening service. The tapers

gleamed from the altar.
Fervent and deep was the voice of the priest, and

the people responded.
Not with their lips alone, but their hearts ; and

the Ave Maria
Sang they, and fell on their knees, and their souls,

with devotion translated.
Rose on the ardor of prayer, like Elijah ascending

to heaven.

Meanwhile had spread in the village the tidings
of ill, and on all sides

Wandered, wailing, from house to house the wo-
men and children.

Long at her father's door Evangeline stood, with
her right hand

Shielding her eyes from the level rays of the sun,
that, descending.

Lighted the village street with mysterious splen-
dor, and roofed each

Peasant's cottage with golden thatch, and embla-
zoned its windows.

Long within had been spread the snow-white clotL
on the table ;

There stood the wheaten loaf, and the honey fra-
grant with wild-flowers ;

There stood the tankard of de, and the cheese
fresh brought from the dairy.

Line 1. And they repeated bia prayer, and said, " Father, forgive tUcai I "

EVANGELINE

iill lIK.in I

And, at the head of the board, the great arm-chair
of the farmer.

Thus did Evangeline wait at her father's door, as
the sunset

Threw the long shadows of trees o'er the broad
ambrosial meadows.

Ah ! on )iev spirit within a deeper shadow had
fallen,

And from the fields of her soul a fragrance celes-
tial ascended, —

Charity, n-3jkness, love, and hope, and forgive-
ness, and patience I

Then, all-forgetful of self, she wandered into the
village.

Cheering with looks and words the mournful hearts
of the women.

As o'er the darkening fields with lingering steps
they departed.

Urged by their household cares, and the weary feet
of their children.

Down sank the great red sun, and in golden, glim-
mering vapors

Veiled the light of his face, like the Prophet de-
scending from Sinai.

Sweetly over the village the bell of the Angelus
sounded.

Meanwhile, amid the gloom, by the church Evan-
geline lingered.
All was silent within ; and in vain at the door and
the windows

Line 8. Cheering with looks and words the diBCOnsoIate hearts of the
women,

EVANGELINE

Stood she, and listened and looked, till, ovorcomo

by emotion,
"Gabriel ! " cried .she aloud with tremulous voir

but no answer
Came from the graves of the dead, nor the gloom-
ier grave of the living.
Slowly at length she returned to the tenantless

house of her father.
Smouldered the fire on the hearth, on the board

was the supper untasted.
Empty and drear was each room, and haunted with

phantoms of terror.
Sadly echoed her step on the stair and the floor of

her chamber.
In the dead of the night she heard the disconsolate

rain fall
Loud on the withered leaves of the sycamore-tree

by the window.
Keenly the lightning flashed ; and the voice of the

echoing thunder
Told her that God was in heaven, and governed

the world he created !
Then she remembered the tale she had heard of

the justice of Heaven ;
Soothed was her troubled soul, and she peacefully

slumbered till morning.

Line 5. Smouldered the fire in the hearth, on the board atood the supper

untasted,
Line 8. In the dead of night she heard the whispering rain fall
Line 10. Keenly the lightning flashed ; and the voice of the neighboring

thunder

EVANGELINE

Four times tho 8un had risen and set ; and now

on the fifth day
Cheerily called the cock to tho sleeping maids of

the farm-house.
Soon o'er tho yellow fields, in silent and mournful

procession,
Came from the neighboring hamlets and farms the

Acadian women.
Driving in ponderous wains thel" household goods

to the sea-shore,
Pausing and looking back to gaze oncc more on

their dwellings,
Ere they were shut from sight by the winding road

and the woodland.
Close at their sides their children ran, and urged

on the oxen.
While in their little hands they clasped some frag-
ments of playthings.

I ' rf li

iiil:ir

Thus to the Gaspereau's mouth they hurried ;

and there on the sea-beach
Piled in confusion lay the household goods of the

peasants.
All day long between the shore and the ships did

the boats ply ;
All day long the wains came laboring down from

the village.
Late in the afternoon, when the sun was near to

his setting.
Echoed far o'er the fields came the roll of drums

from the churchyard.

EVANGELINE

Thither the woiiien and chihlreu thronged. On a
Buddon the church-doors

Opened, aud forth came the guard, and marching
in gloomy procession

Followed the long-imprisoned, but patient, Aca-
dian farmers.

Even as pilgrims, who journey afar from their
homes and their country,

Sing as they go, and in singing forget they are
weary and wayworn,

So with songs on their lips the Acadian peasants
descended

Down from the church to the shore, amid their
wives and their daughters.

Foremost the young men came ; and, raising to-
gether their voices.

Sang with tremulous lips a chant of the Catholic
Missions : —

"Sacred heart of the Saviour! O inexhaustible
fountain !

Fill our hearts this day with strength and submis-
sion and patience ! "

Then the old men, as they marched, and the women
that stood by the wayside

Joined in the sacred psalm, and the birds in the
sunshine above them

Mingled their notes therewith, like voices of spirits
departed.

Half-way down to the shore Evangeline waited
in silence.
Not overcome with grief, but strong in the hour
of affliction, —

EVANGELINE

< ■■

Calmly and sadly she waited, until the procession

approached her,
And she beheld the face of Gabriel pale with

emotion.
Tears ther filled her eyes, and, eagerly running to

meet him,
Clasped she his hands, and laid her head on his

shoulder, and whispered, —
" Gabriel ! be of good cheer I for if we love one

another
Nothing, in truth, can harm us, whatever mis-
chances may happen ! "
Smiling she spake these words ; then suddenly

paubcd, for her father
Saw she slowly advancing. Alas! how changed

was his aspect !
Gone was the glow from his cheek, and the fire

from his eye, and his footstep
Heavier ^eemed with the weight of the heavy heart

in his bosom.
But with a smile and a sigh, she clasped his neck

and embraced him.
Speaking words of endearment where words of

comfort availed not.
Thus to the Gaspereau's mouth moved on that

mournful procession.

There disorder prevailed, and the tumult and
stir of embarking.

Busily plied the freighted boats ; and in the con-
fusion

Wives were torn from their husbands, and moth-
ers, too late, saw their children

EVANGELINE

Left on the land, extending their arms, with wild-
est entreaties.
So unto separate ships were Basil and Gabriel

carried,
While in despair on the shore Evangeline stood

with her father.
Half the task was not done when the sun went

down, and the twilight
Deepened and darkened around ; and in haste the

refluent ocean
Fled away from the shore, and left the line of the

sand-beach
Covered with waifs of the tide, with kelp and the

slippery sea-weed.
Farther back in the midst of the household goods

and the wagons.
Like to a gypsy camp, or a leaguer after a battle.
All escape cut off by the sea, and the sentinels

near them,
Lay encamped for the night the houseless Acadian

farmers.
Back to its nethermost caves retreated the bellow-
ing ocean.
Dragging adown the beach the rattling pebbles,

and leaving
Inland and far up the shore the stranded boats of

the sailors.
Then, as the night descended, the herds returned

from their pastures ;
Sweet was the moist still air with the odor of milk

from their udders ;
Lowing they waited, and long, aft the well-known

bars of the farm-yard, —

EVANGELINE

Waited and looked in vain for the voice and the

hand of the milk-maid.
Silence reigned in the streets ; from the church no

Angelus sounded,
Rose no smoke from the roofs, and gleamed no

lights from the windows.

I'i

But on the shores meanwhile the evening fires

had been kindled.
Built of the drift-wood thrown on the sands from

wrecks in the tempest.
Eound them shapes of gloom and sorrowful faces

were gathered,
Voices of women were heard, and of men, and the

crying of children.
Onward from fire to fire, as from hearth to hearth

in his parish.
Wandered the faithful priest, consoling and bless-
ing and cheering.
Like unto shipwrecked Paul on Melita's desolate

sea-shore.
Thus he approached the place where Evangeline

sat with her father.
And in the flickering light beheld the face of the

old man.
Haggard and hollow and wan, aid without either

thought or emotion,
E'en as the face of a clock from which the hands

have been taken.
Vainly Evangeline strove with words and caresses

to cheer him,
Vainly offered him food ; yet he moved not, he

look rl not, he spake not.

EVANGELINE

But, with a vacant stare, ever gazed at the flicker-
ing fr ..-light.

" Benedicite / " murmured the priest, in tones of
compassion.

More he fain would have said, but his heart was
full, and his accents

Faltered and paused on his lips, as the feet of a
child on the threshold,

Hushed by the scene he beholds, and the awful
presence of sorrow.

Silently, therefore, he laid his hand on the head of
the maiden.

Raising his tearful eyes to the silent stars that
above them

Moved on their way, unperturbed by the wrongs
and sorrows of mortals.

Then sat he down at her side, and they wept to-
gether in silence.

tfl

Suddenly rose from the south a light, as in au-
tumn the blood-red

Moon climbs the crystal walls of heaven, and o'er
the horizon

Titan-like stretches its hundred hands upon the
mountain and meadow.

Seizing the rocks and the rivers, and piling huge
shadows together.

Broader and ever broader it gleamed on the roofs
of the village.

Gleamed on the sky and sea, and the ships that lay
in the voadstead.

Line 7. Raising his eyes, full of tears, to the silent stars that above them
Line 12. TitaU' like stretches its hundred hands upon mountain and meadow,
Uue 15. Gleamed on th« sky and the sea, and the ships that lay in the
roadstead.

EVANGELINE

Columiis of shining smoke uprose, and flashes of
flame were

Thrust through their folds and withdrawn, like the
quivering hands of a martyr.

Then as the wind seized the gleeds and the burn-
ing thatch, and, uplifting,

Whirled them aloft through the air, at once from
a hundred house-tops

Started the sheeted smoke with flashes of flame in-
termingled.

These things beheld in dismay the crowd on the

shore and on shipboard.
Speechless at first they stood, then cried aloud in

their anguish,
" We shall behold no more our homes in the village

of Grand-Pr6 ! "
Loud on a sudden the cocks began to crow in the

farm-yards.
Thinking the day had dawned ; and anon the low-
ing of cattle
Came on the evening breeze, by the barking of

dogs interrupted.
Then rose a sound of dread, such as startles the

sleeping encampments
Far in the western prairies or forests that skirt the

Nebraska,
When the wild horses affrighted sweep by with the

speed of the whirlwind,
Or the loud bellowing herds of buffaloes rush to

the river.
Such was the sound that arose on the night, as the

herds and the horses

EVANGELINE

Broke through their folds and fences, and madly
rushed o'er the meadows.

Overwhelmed with the sight, yet spefichless, the

priest and the maiden
Gazed on the scene of terror that reddened and

widened before them ;
And as they turned at length to speak to their

silent companion,
Lol from his seat he had fallen, and stretched

abroad on the sea-shore
Motionless lay his form, from which the soul had

departed.
Slowly the priest uplifted the lifeless head, and the

maiden
Knelt at her father's side, and wailed aloud in her

terror.
Then in a swoon she sank, and lay with her head

on his bosom.
Through the long night she lay in deep, oblivious

slumber ;
And when she awoke from the trance, she beheld

a multitude near her.
Faces of friends she beheld, that were mournfully

gazing upon her.
Pallid, with tearful eyes, and looks of saddest com-
passion.
Still the blaze of the burning village illumined the

landscape.
Reddened the sky overhead, and gleamed on the

faces around her.
And like the day of doom it seemed to her waver-
ing senses.

EVANGELINE

Then a familiar voice she heard, as it said to the

people, —
" Let us bury him here by the sea. When a hap-
pier season
Brings us again to our homes from the unknown

land of our exile,
Then shall his sacred dust be piously laid in the

churchyard.''
Such were the words of the priest. And there in

haste by the sea-side,
Having the glare of the burning village for funeral

torches.
But without bell or book, they buried the farmer

of Grand-Prd.
And as the voice of the priest repeated the service

of sorrow,
Lo ! with a mournful sound, like the voice of a vast

congregation.
Solemnly answered the sea, and mingled its roar

with the dirges.
'T was the returning tide, that afar from the waste

of the ocean.
With the first dawn of the day, came heaving and

hurrying landward.
Then recommenced once more the stir and noise of

embarking ;
And with the ebb of the tide the ships sailed out

of the harbor.
Leaving behind them the dead on the shore, and

the village in ruins.

Line 14. And with tbe ebb of tbat tide the ships sailed out of the harbor,

EVAJSGELINE

PART THE SECOND.

Many a weary year had passed since the burning
of Grand-Prd,

When on the falling tide the freighted vessels de-
parted,

Bearing a nation, with all its household gods, into
exile.

Exile without an end, and without an example in
story.

Far asunder, on separate coasts, the Acadians
landed ;

Scattered were they, like flakes of snow, when the
wind from the northeast

Strikes aslant through the fogs that darken the
Banks of Newfoundland.

Friendless, homeless, hopeless, they wandered from
city to city.

From the cold lakes of the North to sidtry South-
ern savannas, —

From the bleak shores of the sea to the lands where
the Father of Waters

Seizes the hills in his hands, and drags them down
to the ocean.

Deep in their sands to bury the scattered bones of
the mammoth.

Friends they sought and homes; and many, de-
spairing, heart-broken.

Asked of the earth but a grave, and no longer a
friend nor a fireside.

EVANGELINE

\ I

Written their history stands on tabiets of stone in

the cliurchyards.
Long among them was seen a maiden who waited

and wandered,
Lowly and meek in spiiit, and patiently suffering

all things.
Fair was she and young : bat, alas I before her ex-
tended.
Dreary and vast and silent, the desert of life, witli

its pathway
Marked by the graves of those who had sorrowed

and sr..^erei before her,
Passions long extinguished, and hopes long de£:d

and abandoned.
As the emigrant's wa ' o'er the Western desert is

marked by
Camp-fires long consumed, and bones that oleach

in the sunshine.
Something there was in her life incomplete, im-
perfect, unfinished ;
As if a morning of June, with all its music and

sunshine,
Suddenly paused in the sky, and, fading, slowly

descended
Into the east again, from whence it late had arisen.
Sometimes she lingered in towns, till, urged by the

fever within her.
Urged by a restless longing, the hunger and thirst

of the spirit.
She would commence again her endless search and

endeavor ;
Sometimes in churchyards stra^'ed, and gazed on

the crosses and tombstones.

EVANGELINE

Sat by some nameless grave, and thought that per-
haps in its bosom
He was already at rest, and she longed to slumber

beside him.
Sometimes a rumor, a hearsay, an inarticulate

whisper,
Came with its airy hand to point and beckon her

forward.
Sometimes she spake with those who had seen her

beloved and known him,
But it was long ago, in some far-off place or for-
gotten.
" Gabriel Lajeunesse ! " they said ; " Oh yes ! we

have seen him.
He was with Basil the blacksmith, and both have

gone to the prairies ;
Coureurs-des-Bois are they, and famous hunters

and trappers."
" Gabriel Lajeunesse! " said others ; " Oh yes ! we

have seen him.
He is a Voyageur in the lowlands of Louisiana."
Then would they say, " Dear child ! why dream

and wait for him longer ?
Are there not other youths as fair as Gabriel?

others
Who have hearts as tender and true, and spirits

as loyal ?
Here is Baptiste Leblanc, the notary's son, who

has loved thee
l^.Iany a tedious year ; come, give him thy hand

and be happy !
Thou art too fair to be left to braid St. Catherine's

tresses."

EVANGELINE

Then would Evangeline answer, serenely but sadly,

" 1 cannot !
Whither my Jieart has gone, there follows my

hand, and not elsewhere.
}^ov when the heart goes before, like a lamp, and

illumines the pathway,
Many things are made clear, that else lie hidden in

darkness."
Thereupon the priest, her friend and father-con-
fessor,
Said, with a smile, " O daughter 1 thy God thus

speaketh within thee I
Talk not of wasted affection, affection never was

wasted ;
If it enrich not the heart of another, its waters,

returning
Back to their springs, like the rain, shall fill them

full of refreshment ;
*f\\iii which the fountain sends forth returns again

to the fountain.
Patience ; acM'.omplish thy labor ; accomplish thy

work of affection !
Sorrow and silence are strong, and patient endur-
ance is godlike.
Therefore accomplish thy labor of love, till the

heart is made godlike,
Purified, strengthened, perfected, and rendered

more worthy of heaven I "
Cheered by the good man's words, Evangeline

labored and waited.
Still in her lieart she heard the funeral dirge of

the ocean.
But with its sound there was mingled a voice that

whispered, " Despair not ! "

EVANGELINE

Thus did that poor soul waudor in want and cheer-
less discomfort,

Bleeding, bu ^efootcd, over the shards and thorns
of existence.

Lot me essay, O Muse ! to follow the wanderer's
footsteps ; —

Not through each devious path, each changeful
year of existence,

Rut as a traveller follows a streamlet's course
through the valley :

Far from its margin at times, and seeing the gleam
of its water

Here and there, in some open space, and at inter-
vals only ;

Then drawing nearer its banks, through sylvan
glooms that conceal it.

Though he behold it not, he can hear its con-
tinuous murmur ;

Happy, at length, if he find the spot where it
reaches an outlet.

It wa* the month of May. Far down the

L^autiful River,
Past the Ohio shore and past the mouth of the

Wabash,
Into the gcylden stream of the broad and swift

Mississippi,
Floated a cumbrous boat, that was rowed by

Acadian boatmen.
It was a band of exiles ; a raft, as it were, from

the shipwrecked

EVANGELINE

Nation, scattered along the coast, now floating to-
gether.
Bound by tho bonds of a common belief and a

common misfortune ;
Men and women and children, who, guided by

hoi)e or by hearsay,
Sought for their kith and their kin among the few-
acred farmers
On the Acadian coast, and the prairies of fair

Opclousas.
With them Evangeline went, and her guide, the

Father Felician.
Onward o'er sunken sands, through a wilderness

sombre with forests,
Day after day they glided adown the turbulent

river ;
Night after night, by their blazing fires, encamped

on its borders.
Now through rushing chutes, among green islands,

where plumelike
Cotton-trees nodded their shadowy crests, they

swept with the current.
Then emerged into broad lagoons, where silvery

sand-bars
Lay in the stream, and along the wimpling waves

of their margin,
Shining with snow-white plumes, large flocks of

pelicans waded.
Level the landscape grew, and along the shores of

the river.
Shaded by china-trees, in the midst of luxuriant

gardens,
Stood the houses of planters, with negro-cabins and

dove-cots.

EVANGELINE

They were approaching the region where reigns
pcrpetuul sununer^

Where through the Golden Coast, and groves of
orange and citron,

Sweeps with majestic curve the river away to the
eastward.

They, too, swerved from their course ; and, enter-
ing the Bayou of Plaquemine,

Soon were lost in a maze of sluggish and devious
waters.

Which, like a network of steel, extended in every
direction.

Over their heads the towering and tenebrous boughs
of the oy press

Met in a dusky arch, and trailing mosses in mid-
air

Waved like banners that hang on the waUs of
ancient cathedrals.

Deathlike the silence seemed, and unbroken, save
by the herons

Home to their roosts in the cedar-trees returning
at sunset.

Or by the owl, as he greeted the moon with de-
moniac laughter.

Lovely the moonlight was as it glanced and gleamed
on the water.

Gleamed on the columns of cypress and cedar sus-
taining the arches,

Down through whose broken vaults it fell as
through chinks in a ruin.

Dreamlike, and indistinct, and strange were all
things around them ;

And o'er their spirits there came a feeling of
wonder and sadness, —

V.\

«t

%:,

EVANGELINE

Strange forebodings of ill, unseen and that cannot

be compassed.
As, at the tramp of a horse's hoof on the turf of

the prairies,
Far in advance are closed the leaves of the shrink-
ing mimosa,
So, at the hoof-beats of fate, with sad forebodings

of evil,
Shrinks and closes the heart, ere the stroke of

doom has attained it.
But Evangeline's heart was sustained by a vision,

that faintly-
Floated beforo her eyes, and beckoned her on

through the moonlight.
It was the thought of her brain that assumed the

shape of a phantom.
Throug)i those shadowy aisles had Gabriel wa»i-

dered before her,
And every stroke of the oar now brought him

nearer and nearer.

Then in his place, at the prow of the boat, rose

one of the oarsmen.
And, as a signal sound, if others like them perad-

venture
Sailed on those gloomy and midnight streams, blew

a blast on liis bugle.
Wild through the dark colonnades and corridors

leafy the blast rang,
Breaking the seal of silence, and giving tongues to

the forest.
Soundless above them the banners of moss just

stirred to the music.

EVANGELINE

Multitudinous echoes awoke and died in the dis-
tance.

Over L le watery floor, and beneath the reverberant
bran'jhes ;

But not a voice replied ; no answer came from the
darkness ;

And, when the echoes had ceased, like a sense of
pain was the silence.

Then Evangeline slept ; but the boatmen rowed
through the midnight,

Silent at times, then singing familiar Canadian
boat-songs,

Such as they sang of old on their own Acadian
rivers.

While through the night were heard the mysteri-
ous sounds of the desert.

Far off, — indistinct, — as of wave or wind in the
forest,

Mixed with the whoop of the crane and the roar of
the grim alligator.

Thus ere another noon they emerged from the
shades ; and before them

Lay, in the golden sun, the lakes of the Atcha-
falaya.

Water-lilies in myriads rocked on the slight undu-
lations

Made by the passing oars, and, resplendent in
beauty, the lotus

Lifted her golden crown above the heads of the
boatmen.

Lino C. Silent at times, and then singing familiar Canadian b<Mt-8ongs,

Line 8. And through the night were Le^krd the mysterious sounds of
the deHert,

EVANGELINE

Faint was the air with the odorous breath of mag-
nolia blossoms,
And with the heat of noon ; and nmnberless sylvan

islands,
Fragrant and thickly embowered with blossoming

hedges of roses,
Near to whose shores they glided along, invited to

slimiber.
Soon by the fairest of these their weary oars were

suspended.
Under the boughs of Wachita willows, that grew

by the margin,
Safely their boat was moored ; and scattered about

on the greensward.
Tired with their midnight toil, the weary travellers

slumbered.
Over them vast and high extended the cope of a

cedar.
Swinging from its great arms, the trumpet-flower

and the grapevine
Hung their ladder of ropes aloft like the ladder of

Jacob,
On whose pendulous stairs the angels ascending,

descending.
Were the swift humming-birds, that flitted from

blossom to blossom.
Such was the vision Evangeline saw as she slum-
bered beneath it.
Filled was her heart with love, and the dawn of an

opening heaven
Lighted her soul in sleep with the glory of regions

celestial.

Nej

Darte(

Urged

Northv

At the

Dark ai

Somewi

Gabriel

Sought i

Swiftly t

But by t

pi
So that

All undis
sel

Angel off
be

Swiftly i\

After the

As from

EVANGELINE

Nearer, and ever nearer, among the numberless
ijlands,

Darted a light, swift boat, that sped away o'er the
water,

Urged on its course by the sinewy arms of hunters
and trappers.

Northward its prow was turned, to the land of the
bison and beaver.

At the helm sat a youth, with countenance thought-
ful and careworn.

Dark and neglected locks overshadowed his brow,
and a sadness

Somewhat beyond his years on his face was legibly
written.

Gabriel was it, who, weary with waiting, unhappy
and restless.

Sought in the Western wilds oblivion of self and of
sorrow.

Swiftly they glided <Uong, close under the lee of the
island.

But by the opposite bank, and behind a screen of
palmettos.

So that they saw not the boat, where it lay con-
cealed in the willows ;

All undisturbed by the dash of their oars, and un-
seen, were the sleepers.

Angel of God was there none to awaken the slum-
bering maiden.

Swiftly they glided away, like the shade of a cloud
on the prairie.

After the sound of their oars on th*^ tholes had died
in the distance.

As from a magic trance the sleepers awoke, and the
maiden

EVANGELINE

Said with a sigh to the friendly priest, " O Father
Felician !

Something says in my heart that near me Gabriel
wanders.

Is it a foolish dream, an idle and vague supersti-
tion?

Or has an angel passed, and revealed the truth to
my spirit?"

Then, with a blush, she added, " Alas for r^-v cred-
ulous fancy !

Unto ears like thine such words as these have no
meaning."

But made answer the reverend man, and he smiled
as he answered, —

" Daughter, thy words are not idle ; nor are they
to me without meaning.

Feeling is deep and still ; and the word that floats
on the surface

Is as the tossing buoy, that betrays where the an-
chor is hidden.

Therefore trust to thy heart, and to what the world
calls illusions.

Gabriel truly is near thee ; for not far away to the
southward,

On the banks of the TSclie, are the tens of St.
Maur and St. Martin.

There the long-wandering bride s' all be given again
to her bridegroom,

Tu^re the long-absent pastor regain his flock aid
his sheepfold.

Beautiful is the land, with its prairies and forests
of fruit-trees ;

Under the feet a garden of flowers, and the bluest
of heavens

EVANGELIiiJ^

Bending above, and resting its dome on the walls

of the forest.
They who dwell there have named it the Eden of

Louisiana ! "

With these words of cheer they arose and con-
tinued their journey.
Softly the evening came. The sun from the west-
ern horizon
Like a magician extended his golden wand o'er the

landscape ;
Twinkling vapors arose; and sky and water and

forest
Seemed all on iire at the touch, and melted and

mingled together.
Hanging between two skies, a cloud with edges of

silver.
Floated the boat, with its dripping oars, on the

motionless water.
Filled was Evangeline's heart with inexpressible

sweetness.
Tonahed by the magic spell, the sacred fountains

of feeling
Glowed with the light of love, as the skies and

waters around her.
Then from a neighboring thicket the mocking-bird,

wildest of singers.
Swinging aloft on a willow spray that hung o'er

the water,
Shook from his little tiiroat such floods of delirious

music,
That the whole air and the woods and the waves

seemed silent to listen.

74 EVANGELINE

Plaintive at first were the tones and sad: then
soaring to madness

Seemed they to follow or guide the revel of fren-
zied Bacchantes.

Single notes were then heard, in sorrowful, low
lamentation ;

Till, having gathered them all, he flung them abroad
in derision.

As when, after a storm, a gust of wind through the
tree-tops

Shakes down the rattling rain in a crystal shower
on the branches.

With such a prelude as this, and hearts that
throbbed with emotion,

Slowly they entered the Teche, where it flows
through the green Opelousas,

And, through the amber air, above the crest of the
woodland,

Saw the column of smoke that arose from a neigh-
boring dwelling ; —

Sounds of a horn they heard, and the distant low-
ing of cattle.

III.

Near to the bank of the river, o'ershadowed by

oaks, from whose branches
Garlands of Spanish moss and of mystic mistletoe

flaunted.
Such as the Druids cut down with golden hatchets

at Yide-tide,
Stood, secluded and still, the house of the herdsman.

A garden

Line 3. Tlien aiugle notes were heard, iu sorrowful, low lamentation ;

EVANGELINE

Girded it round about with a belt of luxuriant

blossoms,
Filling the air with fragrance. The house itself

was of timbers
Hevm from the cypress-tree, and carefully fitted

together.
Large and low was the roof ; and on slender col-
umns supported,
Kose-wreathed, vine-encircled, a broad and spacious

veranda,
Haunt of the humming-bird and the bee, extended

around it.
At each end of the house, amid the iiowers of the

garden.
Stationed the dove-cots were, as love's perpetual

symbol,
Scenes of endless wooing, and endless contentions

of rivals.
Silence reigned o'er the place. The line of sliac'ow

and sunshine
Ran near the tops of the trees ; but the house itself

was in shadow.
And from its chimney-top, ascending and slowly

expanding
Into the evening air, a thin blue column of smoke

rose.
In the rear of the house, from the garden gate, ran

a pathway
Through the great groves of oak to the skirts of the

limitless prairie.
Into whose sea of flowers the sun was slowly de-
scending.
Full in his track of light, like ships with shadowy

canvas

EVANGELINE

Hanging loose from their spars in a motionless

calm in the tropics,
Stood a cluster of trees, with tangled cordage of

giape-vines.

Just where thi; woodlands met the flowery surf
of the pi'airie,
Mounted upon his horse, with Spanish saddle and

- irrup.«
^'a.t a l}Cyd:^ri.»;4Vi, anayed ii. gaiter? and doublet of

Broad anti , .owi ' as the face that from under the

Spanish somb.ero
Gazed on tlie peaceful scene, with the lordly look of

its master.
Round about him were numberless herds of kine,

that were grazing
Quietly in the meadows, and breathing the vapory

freshness
That uprose from the river, and spread itself over

the landscape.
Slowly lifting the horn that hung at his side, and

expanding
Fully his broad, deep chest, he blew a blast, that

resounded
Wildly and sweet and far, through the still damp

air of the evening.
Suddenly out of the grass the long white horns of

the cattle
Rose like flakes of foam on the adverse currents

of ocean.
Silent a moment they gazed, then bellowing rushed

o'er the prairie.

Line 2. Stood a cluster of cotton-treea, with cordage of grape-vinuB.

EVANGELINE

And the whole mass became a cloud, a shade m
the distance.

Then, as the herdsman turned to t)ie house, through
the gate of the garden

bv .' he the forms of tue priest and the maiden ad-
vancing tc meet him.

Sr Jder^'' down from his horse he sprang in amaze-
ment, and forward

Kushed with '^xff Jed arms and exclamations of
wonder ;

When they beheld his face, they recognized Basil
the Blacksmith.

Hearty his welcome was, as he led his guests to the
garden.

There in an arbor of roses with endless question
and answer

Gave they vent to their hearts, and renewed their
friendly embraces,

Laughing and weeping by turns, or sitting silent
and thoughtful.

Thoughtful, for Gabriel came not ; and now dark
doubts and misgivings

Stole o*er the maiden*s heart ; and Basil, some-
what embarrassed.

Broke the silence and said, " If you came by the
Atchafalaya,

How have you nowhere encountered my Gabriel's
boat on the bayous ? "

Over Evangeline's face at the words of Basil a
shade passed.

Tears came into her eyes, and she said, with a
tremulous accent,

" Gone ? is Gabriel gone ? " and, concealing her
face on his shoulder.

; 1

EVANGELINE

All her o'crburdened heart gave way, and she wept

and lamented.
Then the j^ood IJasil said, — and his voice grew

blithe as he said it, —
" Be of good cheer, my child ; it is only to-day he

departed.
Foolish boy 1 he has left me alone with my herds

and my horses.
Moody and restless grown, and tried and troubled,

his spirit
Could no longer endure the calm of this quiet ex-
istence.
Thinking ever of thee, uncertain and sorrowful

ever,
Ever silent, or speaking only of thee and his

troubles,
lie at length had become so tedioua to men and to

maidens.
Tedious even to me, that at length I bethought me,

and sent him
Unto the town of Adayes to trade for mules with

the Spaniards.
Thence he will follow the Indian trails to tho

Ozark Mountains,
Hunting for furs in the forests, on rivers trapping

the beaver.
Therefore be of good cheer ; we will follow the

fugitive lover ;
He is not far on his way, and the Fates and the

streams are against him.
Up and away to-morrow, and through the red dew

of the morning
We will follow him fast, and bring him back to his

prison."

EVANGELINE

Then glad voicoH were heard, and up from the

banks of the river,
Dome aloft on Iiih comrades' arms, came Michael

the fiddler.
Long under Bii.sirs roof had he lived like a god on

Olympus,
Having no other care than dispensing music to

mortals.
Far renowned was he for his silver locks and

his fiddle.
"Long live Michael," they cried, "our bravo

Acadian minstrel ! "
As they bore him aloft in triumphal procession ;

and straightway
Father Felician advanced with Evangeline, greet-
ing the old man
Kindly and oft, and recalling the past, while Basil,

enraptured.
Hailed with hilarious joy his old companions and

gossips.
Laughing loud and long, and embracing mothers

and daughters.
Much tliey marvelled to see the wealth of the ci-
devant blacksmith,
All his domains and his herds, and his patriarchal

demeanor ;
Much they marvelled to hear his tales of the soil

and the climate.
And of the prairies, whose numberless herds were

his who would take them ;
Each one thought in his heart, that he, too, would

go and do likewise.
Thus they ascended the steps, and crossing the

breezy veranda,

EVANGELINE

Entered the hall of the house, where already the

Huppcr of Basil
Waited his late return ; and they rested and

feasted together.

Over the joyous feast the sudden darkness de-
scended.

All was silent without, and, illuming the landscape
with silver,

Fair rose the dewy moon and the myriad stars ;
but within doors.

Brighter than these, slumo the faces of friends in
the glimmering lamplight.

Then from his station aloft, at the head of the ta-
ble, the herdsman

Poured forth his heart and his wine together in
endless profusion.

Lighting his pipe, that was filled with sweet Nat-
chitoches tobacco,

Thus he spake to his guests, who listened, and
smiled as they listened : —

" Welcome once more, my friends, who long have
been friendless and homeless,

Welcome once more to a home, that is better per-
chance than the old one !

Here no hungry winter congeals our blood like the
rivers ;

Here no stony ground provokes the wrath of the
farmer.

Smoothly the ploughshare runs through the soil, as
a keel through the water.

All the year round the orange-groves are in blos-
som ; and grass grows

EVANGELINE

More in a single night than a whole Canadian

summer.
Here, too, numberless hord.H run wild and un-
claimed in the prairies ;
llerOf too, lands may be had for the asking, and

forests of timber
With a few blows of the axo are hewn and framed

into houses.
After your houses are built, and your fields are

yellow with harvests,
No King George of England shall drive you away

from your homesteads.
Burning your dwellings and l)arns, and stealing

your farms and your ciattle."
Speaking these words, he blew a wrathful eloud

from his nostrils,
While his huge, brown hand came thundering

down on the table.
So that the guests all started ; and Father Feli-

cian, astounded.
Suddenly paused, with a pinch of snuff half-way

to his nostrils.
But the brave Basil resumed, and his words were

milder and gayer : —
" Only beware of the fever, my friends, beware of

the fever I
For it is not like that of our cold Acadian climate.
Cured by wearing a spider hung round one's neck

in a nutshell ! "
Then there were voices heard at the door, and

footsteps . pproaching
Sounded upon th<- stairs and the floor of the

breezy veranda.

Line 9. And hU huge, brawny hand came thuudoring dowu on the table,

EVANGELINE

It was tho ncijjfhboring CreoU's and Hmall Acadian

planters,
Who li:ul been sunnnoned all to the house of Basil

the ilei'dsnian.
Merry the nun^ting was of ancient comrades and

nrJf;liliors :
Friend clasped friend in his arms ; and they who

before were as stranp'rs,
Meeting in exile, became straightway as friends to

each other,
Drawn by the gentle bond of a connnon country

together.
But in the neighboring hall a strain of music, pro-
ceeding
From the accordant strings of Michael's melodious

fiddle.
Broke u]) all further speech. Away, like chihlrcn

delighted,
All things forgotten lK»side, they gave themselves

to the maddening
Whirl of the giddy dance, as it 8wei)t and swayed

to the music,
Dreandike, with beanung eyes and the rush of

fluttering garments.

Meanwhile, apart, at the head of the hall, tho

priest and the herdsman
Sat, conversing together of past and present and

futiu'e ;
While Evangeline stood like one entrtineed, for

within her
Olden memories rose, and loud in the midst of the

music

EVANGELINE

Heard she tho houihI of the sea, jiiul an irreprcHsi-

blo HiulnoHs
Came o'er her heart, and unseen she stole forth

into tlie garden.
Ik'autiful was the night. Ikihind the hhuk wall

of tlu^ forest,
Tipping its summit with silver, arose the moon.

On the river
Fell here and there through the hranelios a ti'emu-

lous gleam of the nuxmlight,
Like tho sweet thoughts of love on a darkened and

devious s))irit.
Nearer and round about her, the manifold tiowers

of the garden
Poured out their souls in odors, that were thc'ir

prayers and eonfessions
Unto the night, :is it went its way, like a silent

Carthusian.
FiUler of fragrance than they, and as heavy with

shadows and night-<l(;ws.
Hung the heart of the maiden. The calm and the

magical moonliglit
Seemed to inundate her soul with indefinable long-
ings,
As, through the garden-gate, and beneath the

shade of the oak-trees,
Piissed she along the j)ath to the edge of the nu^as-

iireless ])rairie.
Silent it lay, with a silvery haze ujmn it, and fire-
Hies

Line 13. At, through the gardeu gate, bvueath the brovni ahadu of tht uitk-
trees,

EVANGELINE

Gleamed and floated away in mingled and infinite

numbers.
Over her head the stars, the thoughts of God in

the heavens,
Shone on the eyes of man, who had ceased to mar-
vel and worship.
Save when a blazing comet was seen on the walls

of that temple.
As if a hand had appeared and written upon them,

" Upharsin."
And the soul of the maiden, between the stars and

the fire-flies,
Wandered alone, and she cried, " O Gabriel ! O

my beloved I
Art thou so near unto me, and yet I cannot behold

thee?
Art thou so near unto me, and yet thy voice does

not reach me ?
Ah ! how often thy feet have trod this path to the

prairie I
Ah ! how often thine eyes have looked on the

woodlands around me !
Ah ! how often beneath this oak, returning from

labor,
TIiou hast lain down to rest, and to dream of me

in thy slumbers I
Wlicn shall these eyes behold, these arms be

folded about thee ? "
Loud and sudden and near the notes of a whip-

poorwill sounded

Linn 1. GI<Muniii(( and ttouliiiR away in mingled and infinite nunil)era.
Liuu 15. Loud and Huddun and nuur thu uuto of a whlppoorwiU Bouude*!

EVANGELINE

Like a flute in the woods • and anon, through the

neighboring thickets,
Farther and farther away it floated and dropped

into silence.
" Patience ! " whispered the oaks from oracular

caverns of darkness :
And, from the moonlit meadow, a sigh rcs})onded

" To-morrow ! "

Bright rose the sun next day ; and all the flow-
ers of the garden

Bathed his shining feet witli their tears, and
anointed his tresses

With the delicious balm that they bore in their
vases of ciystal.

" Farewell ! " said the ]>riest, as he stood at the
shadowy threshold ;

" See that you bring us the Prodigal Son from his
fasting and famine,

And, too, the Foolish Virgin, who Hlci)t when the
bridegroom was coming."

" Farewell ! " answered the maiden, and, smiling,
with Basil descended

Down to the river's brink, where the boatmen al-
ready were waiting.

Thus beginning their journey with moraing, and
sunshine, and gladness,

Swiftly they followed the flight of him who was
speeding before them,

Blown by the blast of fate like a dead leaf over
the desert.

Not that day, nor the next, nor yet the day that
succeeded.

EVAWGELLVE

Found they the trace of his course, in lake or

fori'st or river,
Nor, after many days, had they found him ; but

vague and uncertain
Kumors alone were their guides through a wild

and desolate country ;
Till, at the little inn of the Spanish town of

Adayes,
Weary and worn, they alighted, and learned from

the garrulous hmdlord.
That on the day before, with horses and guide < and

companions,
Gabriel left the village, and took the road of the

prairies.

IV.

Far in tlie West there lies a desert land, where

the mountains
Lift, tlirough perpetual snows, their h>fty and

luminous summits.
Down from their jagged, deep ravines, where the

gorge, like a gateway.
Opens a passage rude to the wheels of the emis

grant's wagon,
Westward the Oregon flows and the Walleway

and Owyiiee.
Eastward, with devious course, among the Wind-
river Mountains,
Through the Sweet-watev Valley precipitate leaps

the Nebraska ;
And to tlie south, from F(mtaine-qui-bout and the

Spanish sierras,

Line 10. Down (rflin their deitulnti-, dm-p ravineM, whore the gorge, liict- ;i
gftU-way,

EVANGELINE

Fretted with sands and rocks, and swept by the

wind of the desert,
Numberless torrents, with ceaseless sound, descend

to the ocean.
Like the great chords of a harp, in loud and

solemn vibrations.
Sprea<ling between these streams arc the wondrous,

beautiful j)rairie8 ;
Billowy bays of grass ever rolling in shadow and

sunshine,
Bright with luxuriant clusters of roses and purple

amorphas.
Over them wandered tlie buffalo herds, and the

elk and the roebuck ;
Over them wandered the wolves, and herds of

riderless horses ;
Fires that blast and blight, and winds tliat are

weary with travel ;
Over them wander the scattered tribes of Ishmacl's

children.
Staining the desei*t with blood ; and above their

terrible war-trails
Circles and sails ah)ft, on pinions majestic, the

vulture,
Like the implacable soul of a chieftain slaughtered

in Ijattle,
By invisible stairs ascending and scaling the

heavens.
Here and there rise smokes from the camps of

thes*' savage marauders ;
Here and there rise groves from the margins of

swift-running rivers ;
And the grinj, taciturn bear, the anchorite monk

of the desert,

EVANGELINE

Climbs down their dark ravines to dig for roots

by the brook-side,
And over all is the sky, the clear and crystalline

heaven,
Like the protecting hand of God inverted above

them.

Into this wonderful land, at the base of the
Ozark Mountains,
Gabriel far had entered, with hunters and trappers

behind him.
Day after day, with their Indian guides, the

maiden and Basil
Follo';;/ed his flying steps, and thought each day

to overtake him.
SometimcH they saw, or tliought they saw, the

smoke of his camp-fire
Kise in the morning air from the distant plain ;

but at nightfall,
When they had reached the place, they found only

embers and ashes.
And, though their hearts were sad at times and

their bodies were weary,
Hope still guided them on, as the magic Fata

Morgana
Showed them her lakes of light, that retreated

and vanished before them.

Once, as they sat by their evening fire, there

silently entered
Into their little camp an Indian woman, whose

features
Wore dee}) traces of sorrow, and patience as great

as her sorrow.

EVANGELINE

She was a Shawnee woman returning home to her

people,
From the far-off hunting-grounds of the cruel

Camanches,
Where her Canadian husband, a Coureur-des-Bois,

had been murdered.
Touched were their hearts at her story, and warm-
est and friendliest welcome
Gave they, with words of cheer, and she sat and

feasted among them
On the buffalo -meat and the venison cooked on the

embers.
But when their meal was done, and Basil and all

his companions,
Worn with the long day's march and the chase of

the deer and the bison.
Stretched themselves on the ground, and slept

where the quivering fire-light
Flashed on their swarthy cheeks, and their forn^i

wrapped up in their blaukets,
Then at the door of Evangeline's tent she sat and

repeated
Slowly, with soft, low voice, and the (rharm of her

Indian accent,
All the tale of her love, with its pleasures, and

pains, and reverses.
Much Evangeline wept at the tale, and to know

that another
Hapless heart like h(>r own had loved i.nd had

been disappointed.
Moved to the depths of her sold by pity and

woman's compassion,
Yet in her sorrow jdeased that one who hatl suf-
fered was near lun*.

EVANGELINE

She in turn related her love and all its disasters.
Mute with wonder the Shawnee sat, and when she

had ended
Still was nmto ; but at length, as if a raj'sterious

horror
Passed tljrou^h her brain, she spake, and reiHjated

tlie tahi of the Mowis ;
Mowis, the bridegroom of snow, who won and

wedded a maiden,
But, when the morning eanic, arose and passed

from the wigwam,
Fading and iiu'lting away and dissolving into the

sunshine.
Till she beheld liim no more, though she followed

far into the forest.
Then, in tlios(; sweet, low tones, that seemed like a

W(;ird ineantation.
Told she the tale of the fair Lilinau, who was

wooed by a phantom.
That through the pines o'er her father's lodge, in

tiie hu.".!; of the twilight.
Breathed like the evening wind, and whispered

love to the maiden.
Till she followeil his green and waving plume

through the forest.
And nevermon; returned, nor was seen again by

her people.
Silent with wondcsr and strange surprise, Evange-
line listened
To the soft How of her magical words, till the re-
gion around her
Seemed like enchanted ground, and her swarthy

guest the enchantress.

SIowl)

EVANGELINE

Slowly over the tops of the Ozark Mountains the

moon rose,
Lighting the little tent, and with a mysterious

.splendor
Touching the sombre leaves, and omhraoing and

filling the woodland.
"With a delicious sound the brook rushed by, and

the branches
Swayed and sighed overhead in scarcely audible

whispers.
Filled with the thoughts of love was Evangeline's

heart, but a secret,
Subtile sense civpt in of pain and indefinite

terror.
As the cold, poisonous snako creei>s into th<; nest

of the swallow.
It was no earthly fear. A bivath from the region

of spirits
Seemed to float in thi^ aiv of night ; and she felt

for a moment
That, like tW Indian maid, she, too, was pursuing

a i>haN^^)H.
"With this t)ioug!^t she slept, and the fear and the

phhi^Htoiti had vanished.

Early upon the morrow the march was resumed ;

and the Shawnee
Said, as they journeyed along, " On the westeni

slope of these mountains
l")wi'lls in his little village the Black Robe chief

of the Mission.
Much he teaches the people, and tells them of

Mary and Jesus.

i I

EVANaELINE

Loud laugh tlicir hearts with joy, and weep with
pain, as thry iiear him."

Then, with a sudden and secret emotion, Evange-
line answered,

'* Let us go to the Misuiou, for there good tidings
await us ! "

Thitiier they turned their stceda ; and behind a
spur of the mountai.is,

ffust as the sun went down, they heard a murmur
of voi('«'s.

And in a mcjulow green and broad, by the bank
of a river.

Saw the tents of the Christians, the tents of the
Jesuit Mission.

Undor a towering oak, that stood in the midst of
thc! villaj^o,

Knelt the IMaek Kobe chief with his children. A
crucifix fastened

High on the trunk of the tree, and overshadowed
by grape-vines.

Looked with its agonized face on the multitude
kneeling beneath it.

This was tluur rural chapel. Aloft, through the
intricate arches

Of its aerial roof, arose the chant of their ves-
pers,

Mingling its notes with the soft susumis and sighs
of the branches.

Silent, with heads uncovered, the travellers, nearer
approaching.

Knelt on the swarded floor, and joined in the even-
ing devotions.

But when the service was done, and the benedic-
tion had fallen

EVANGELINE

Furth from the IiuikU of the priest, like seed from

the hantU of the sower,
Slowly the reverend man advanced to the Htran-

gerH, and l):id(> them
Welcome ; and when tluy r(>))lied, ho smiled with

benignant expres^.ion,
Hearing the homelike mmnds of his mother-tongnu

in the forest,
And, with words of kindness, condueted them into

his wigwam.
There upon mats and skins they rep<>s«'d, and on

cakes of the maize-ear
Feasted, and slake<l their thirst from the water-
gourd of the teacher.
Soon was their story told : and the priest witii so-

lenmity answered : —
" Not six suns have risen and set since Gabriel,

seated
On this nuit by my side, where now the nuiiden

re{)oses,
Tuld me this same sad tah; ; then arose anil eon-

tiinu^d his journey ! "
Soft was the voice of the priest, and he spake with

an accent of kindness ;
Hut on Evangeline's heart fell his words as in win-
ter the snow-flakes
Fall into some lone nest from which the birds have

departed.
" Far to the north he luis gone," continued the

l)riest ; " but in autumn.
When the chase is done, will return again to the

Mission."
Then Evangidine said, and her voice was meek

and submissive.

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EVANGELINE

" Let 11"'^ remain with thee, for my soul is sad and

afflicted."
So seemed it wise and well unto all ; and betimes

on the morrow,
Mounting his Mexican steed, v/ith his Indian guides

and companions,
Homeward Basil returned, and Evangeline stayed

at the Mission.

Slowly, slowly, slowly the days succeeded each

other, —
Days and weeks and months ; and the fields of

maize that were springing
Green from the ground when a stranger she came,

now waving above her.
Lifted their slender shafts, with leaves interlacing,

and forming
Cloisters for mendicant crows and granaries pil-
laged by squirrels.
Then in the golden weather the maize was husked,

and the maidens
Blushed at each blood-red ear, for that betokened

a lover,
But at the ciooked laughed, and called it a thief in

the corn-field.
Even the blood-red ear to Evangeline brought not

her lover.
" Patience ! " the priest would say ; " have faith,

and thy prayer will be answered I
Look at this vigorous plant that lifts its head from

the meadow.

Line 16. Look at this delicate flower that lifts its head from the meadow,

EVANGELINE

See how its leaves are turned to the north, as true

as the magnet ;
This is the coiuppss-flower, that the finger of God

has planted
Here in the houseless wild, to direct the traveller's

journey
Over the sea-like, pathless, limitless waste of the

desert.
Such in the soul of man is faith. The blossoms of

passion,
Gay and luxuriant flowers, are brighter and fuller

of fragrance.
But they beguile us, and lead us astray, and their

odor is deailiy.
Only this humble plant can guide us here, and

hereafter
Crown us with asphodel flowers, that are wet with

the dews of nepenthe."

So came the autumn, and passed, and the win-
ter, — yet Gabriel came not ;

Blossomed the opening spring, and the notes of the
robin and bluebird

Sounded sweet upon wold and in wood, yet Gabriel
came not.

But on the breath of the sunmier winds a rumor
was wafted

Sweeter than song of bird, or hue or odor of blos-
som.

Far to the north and east, it said, in the Michigan
forests,

Lines 1-3. See how its leaTes all point to the north, as true as the magnet ;
It is the compass-flower, that the finger of God has suspended
Here on its fragile stalk, to direct the traveller's journey

EVANGELINE

Gabriel had his lodge by the banks of the Saginaw
Kiver.

And, with returning guides, ttat sought the lakes
of St. Lawrence,

Saying a sad farewell, Evangeline went from the
Mission.

When over weary ways, by long and perilous
marches,

She had attained at length the depths of the Mich-
igan forests,

Found she the hunter's lodge deserted and fallen
to ruin !

Thus did the long sad years glide on, and in sea-
sons and places
Divers and distant far was seen the wandering

maiden ; —
Now in the Tents of Grace of the meek Moravian

Missions,
Now in the noisy camps and the battle-fields of the

army.
Now in secluded hamlets, in towns and populous

cities.
Like a phantom she came, and passed away unre-

membered.
Fair was she and young, when in hope began the

long journey ;
Faded was she and old, when in disappointment it

ended.
Each succeeding year stole something away from

her beauty,
Leaving behind it, broader and deeper, the gloom

and the shadow.

EVANGELINE

Then there appeared and spread faint streaks of

gray o'er her forehead,
Dawn of another life, that broke o'er her earthly

horizon,
As in the eastern sky the first faint streaks of the

morning.

In that delightful land which is washed by the
Delaware's waters,

Guarding in sylvan shades the name of Penn the
apostle.

Stands on the banks of its beautiful stream the
city he founded.

There all the air is balm, and the peach is the em-
blem of beauty.

And the streets still reecho the names of the trees
of the forest,

As if they fain would appease the Dryads whose
haunts they molested.

There from the troubled sea had Evangeline landed,
an exile.

Finding among the children of Penn a home and
a country.

There old Rend Leblanc had died ; and when he
departed,

Saw at his side only one of all his hundred de-
scendants.

Something at least there was in the friendly
streets of the city.

Something that spake to her heart, and made her
no longer a stranger ;

EVANGELINE

And her ear was pleased with the Thee and Thou
of the Quakers,

For it recalled the past, the old Acadian country.

Where all men were equal, and all were brothers
and sisters.

So, when the fruitless search, the disappointed en-
deavor.

Ended, to recommence no more upon earth, un-
complaining.

Thither, as leaves to the light, were turned her
thoughts and her footsteps.

As from the mountain's top the rainy mists of the

morning

Roll away, and afar we behold the landscape

below us.
Sun-illumined, with shining rivers and cities and

hamlets,
So fell the mists from her mind, and she saw the

world far below her,
Dark no longer, but all illumined with love ; and

the pathway
Which she had climbed so far, lying smooth and

fair in the distance.
Gabriel was not forgotten. Within her heart was

his image.
Clothed in the beauty of love and youth, as last

she beheld him.
Only more beautiful made by his death-like silence

and absence.
Into her thoughts of him time entered not, for it

was not.
Over him years had no power ; he was not changed,

but transfigured ;

Line 7. As from a moimtain's top the rainy mists of the morning

EVANGELINE

He had become to her heart as one who is dead,

and not absent ;
Patience and abnegation of self, and devotion to

others,
This was the lesson a life of trial and sorrow had

taught her.
So was her love diffused, but, like to some odorous

spices,
Suffered no waste nor loss, though filling the air

with aroma.
Other hope had she none, nor wish in life, but to

foUow
Meekly, with reverent steps, the sacred feet of her

Saviour.
Thus many years she lived as a Sister of Mercy ;

frequenting
Lonely and wretched roofs in the crowded lanes of

the city,
Where distress aud want concealed themselves

from the sunlight.
Where disease and sorrow in garrets languished

neglected.
Night after night, when the world was asleep, as

the watchman repeated
Loud, through the gusty streets, that all was well

in the city.
High at some lonely window he saw the light of

her taper.
Day after day, in the gray of the dawn, as slow

through the suburbs
Plodded the German farmer, with flowers and

fruits for the market.
Met he that meek, pale face, returning home from

its watchings.

100

EVANGELINE

Then it came to pass that a pestilence fell on

tlie city.
Presaged by wondrous signs, and mostly by flocks

of wihl pigeons,
Darkening the sun in their flight, with naught in

their craws but an acorn.
And, as the tides of the sea arise in the month of

September,
Flooding some silver stream, till it spreads to a

lake in the meadow,
So death flooded life, and, o'erflowing its natural

margm,

Spread to a brackish lake, the silver stream of ex-
istence.

Wealth had no power to bribe, nor beauty to
charm, the oppressor ;

But all perished alike beneath the scourge of his
anger ; —

Only, alas ! the poor, who had neither friends nor
attendants.

Crept away to die in the almshouse, home of the
homeless.

Then in the suburbs it stood, in the midst of
meadows and woodlands ; —

Now the city surrounds it ; but still, with its gate-
way and wicket

Meek, in the midst of splendor, its humble walls
seem to echo

Softly the words of the Lord : " The poor ye al-
ways have with you."

Thither, by night and by day, came the Sister of
Mercy. The dying

Looked up into her face, and thought, indeed, to
behold there

Gleai

Such

Or su(

Unto \

Into w]

Thus

Wendir
t

Sweet o

•

And she

That the

Then, asi

c
Distant
tl

While, h

Sounds oi

Soft as dj

Somethinl

arJ

Line 13.

EVANGELINE

101

Gleams of celestial light encircle her forehead with
splendor,

Such as the artist paints o'er the brows of saints
and apostles,

Or such as hangs by night o'er a city seen at a dis-
tance.

Unto their eyes it seemed the lamps of the city
celestial,

Into whose shining gates erelong their spirits would
enter.

Thus, on a Sabbath morn, through the streets,

deserted and silent.
Wending her quiet way, she entered the door of

the almshouse.
Sweet on the summer air was the odor of flowers

in the garden ;
And she paused on her way to gather the fairest

among them.
That the dying once more might rejoice in their

fragrance and beauty.
Then, as she mounted the stairs to the corridors,

cooled by the east-wind.
Distant and soft on her ear fell the chimes from

the belfry of Christ Church,
While, intermingled with these, across the mead-
ows were wafted
Sounds of psalms, that were sung by the Swedes in

their church at Wicaco.
Soft as descending wings fell the calm of the hour

on her spirit :
Something within her said, " At length thy trials

are ended " ;

Line 13. And, intermingled with these, across the meadows were wafted

102

EVANGELINE

And, with li^lit in he)' looks, slie entered the cham-
bers of sickness.

Noiselessly moved about the assiduous, careful at-
tendants,

Moistening the feverish lip, and the aching brow,
and in silence

Closing the sightless eyes of the dead, and conceal-
ing tlieir faces,

Where on their pallets they lay, like drifts of snow
by the roadside.

Many a languid head, upraised as Evangeline en-
tered,

Turned on its pillow of pain to gaze while she
passed, for her presence

Fell on their hearts like a ray of the sun on the
walls of a prison.

And, as she looked around, she saw how Death, the
consoler,

Laying his hand upon many a heart, had healed it
forever.

Many familiar forms had disappeared in the night
time ;

Vacant their places were, or filled already by
strangers.

Suddenly, as if arrested by fear or a feeling of
wonder,

Still she stood, with her colorless lips apart, while
a shudder

Ran through her frame, and, forgotten, the flower-
ets dropped from her fingers.

And from her eyes and cheeks the light and bloom
of the morning.

EVANGELINE

103

Then there escaped from her lips a cry of such

terrible anguish, ■ '

That the dying heard it, and started up from their

pillows.
On the j)allet before her was stretched the form of

an old man.
Long, and thin, and gray were the locks that

shaded his temples ;
But, as he lay in the morning light, his face for a

moment
Seemed to assume once more the forms of its ear-
lier manhood ;
So are wont to be changed the faces of those who

are dying.
Hot and red on his lips still burned the flush of the

fever.
As if life, like the Hebrew, with blood had be-
sprinkled its portals,
That the Angel of Death might see the sign, and

pa&s over.
Motionless, senseless, dying, he lay, and his spirit

exhausted
Seemed to be sinking down through infinite depths

in the darkness,
Darkness of slumber and death, forever sinking

and sinking.
Then through those realms of shade, in multiplied

reverberations,
Heard he that cry of pain, and through the hush

that succeeded
Whispered a gentle voice, in accents tender and

saint-like,
" Gabriel ! O my beloved ! " and died away into

silence.

104

EVANGELINE

Then he beheld, in a dream, once more tho homo
ol his childhood ;

Green Acadian nioadowa, with sylvan rivers among
thiMii,

Village, and mountain, and woodlands ; and, walk-
ing under their shadow,

As in the days of her youth, Evangeline rose in
his vision.

Tears came into his eyes ; and as slowly ho lifted
his eyelids,

Vanished the vision away, but Evangeline knelt by
his bedside.

Vainly ho strove to whisper her name, for the ac-
cents unuttered

Died on his lips, and their motion revealed what
his tongue would have spoken.

Vainly he strove to rise ; and Evangeline, kneeling
beside him,

Kissed his dying lips, and laid his head on her
bosom.

Sweet was the light of his eyes ; but it suddenly
sank into darkness,

As when a lamp is blown out by a gust of wind at
a casement.

Meui

Still i

Side L

Under

In the ]

$ai]

All was ended now, the hope, and the fear, and

the sorrow.
All the aching of heart, the restless, unsatisfied

longing,
All the dull, deep pain, and constant anguish of

patience !
And, as she pressed once more the lifeless head to

her bosom.

EVANGELINE

105

Meekly she bowed her own, and murmured.
" Father I thank thee ! "

Still stands the forest primeval ; but far away
from its shadow,

Side by side, in their nameless graves, the lovers
are sleeping.

Under the humble walls of the little Catholic
churehyard,

In the heart of the city, they lie, unknown and un-
noticed.

Daily the tides of life go ebbing and flowing beside
them.

Thousands of throbbing hearts, where theirs are at
rest and forever.

Thousands of aching brains, where theirs no longer
are busy.

Thousands of toiling hands, where theirs have
ceased from their labors,

Thousands of weary feet, where theirs have com-
pleted their journey !

Still stands the forest primeval ; but under the
shade of its branches

Dwells another race, with other customs and lan-
guage.

Only along the shore of the mournful and misty
Atlantic

Linger a few Acadian peasants, whose fathers
from exile

Wandered back to their native land to die in its
bosom.

106

EVANGELINE

In the fisherman's cot the wheel and the loom are

still busy ;
Maidens still wear their Norman caps and their

kirtles of homespun,
And by the evening fire repeat Evangeline's story,
While from its rocky caverns the deep-voiced,

neighboring ocean
Speaks, and in accents disconsolate answers the

wail of the forest.

THE SONG OF HIAWATHA

INTRODUCTORY NOTE.

Evangeline^ published in 1847, was followed by
The Golden Legend in 1851, and that by Hiaiiaa-
iha in 1855. The general purpose to make use of
Indian material appears to have been in the poet's
mind for some time, but the conception as finally
wrought was formed in the summer of 1854. He
writes in his diary under date of June 22, " I have
at length hit upon a plan for a poem on the Amer-
ican Indians, which seems to me the right one and
the only. It is to weave together their beautiful
traditions into a whole. I have hit upon a meas-
ure, too, which I think the right and only one for
such a theme." A few days before, he had been
reading with great delight the Finnish epic Kale-
vala, and this poem suggested the measure and
may well have reminded him also of the Indian
legends, which have that likeness to the Finnish
that springs from a common intellectual stage of
development and a general community oi habits
and occupation.

An interest in the Indians had long been felt by
Mr. Longfellow, and in his early plans for prose
sketches tales about the Indians had a place. He
had seen a few of the .■ traggling remainder of the
Algonquins in Maine, and had read Heckewelder

108

THE SONG OF HI A WA THA

while in college ; he had witnessed the spectacle
of Black Hawk and his Sioux on Boston Common ;
and a few years before, he had made the acquaint-
ance of the fine-tempered Kah-ge-ga-gah'bowh, the
Ojibway chief, and had entertained him at his
house, trusting not unlikely that he might derive
from the Indian some helpful suggestion.

No sooner had his floating ideas of a work taken
shape than he was eager to put his plans into exe-
cution. " I could not help this evening," he wrote
June 25, " making a beginning of Manabozho, or
whstever the poem is to be called. His adventures
will form the theme, at all events ; " and the next
day ; " look over Schoolcraft's great book on the
Indians ; three huge quartos, ill-digested, and with-
out any index. Write a few lines of the poem."
His PvUthority for the legends and the material gen-
er,aily of his poem was in the main Schoolcraft's
work, with probably the same author's more lit-
erary composition Algic Researches., and Hecke-
welder's narrative. He soon took Manabozho's
other and more euphonic name, Hiawatha, into
his service, and gave himself up to a thorough en-
joyment of the task. " Worked at Hiawatha^''
he wrote on the 31st of the month, " as I do more
or less every day. It is purely in the realm of
fancy. After tea, read to the boys the Indian story
of The Red Swan." *''' Hiawatha^" he wrote again
in October, " occupies and delights me. Have I
no misgivings about it? Yes, sometimes. Then
the theme seizes me and hurries me away, and they
vanish." His misgivings took a concrete shape a
few days later, when he read aloud to a friend some

INTRODUCTORY NOTE

109

pages of his work. " He fears the poem will want
liuman interest. So does F. So does the author.
I must put a live, beating heart into it."

Mr. Longfellow began writing Hianmtha, as we
have seen, June 25, 1854. It was finished March
29, 1855, and published November 10. It is
doubtful if the poet wrote any of his longer works
with more abandonment, with more thorough en-
joyment of his task, with a keener sense of the
originality of his venture, and by consequence,
with more perplexity when he thought of his read-
ers. He tried the poem on his friends more freely
than had been customary with him, and with va-
ried results. His own mind, as he neared the test
of publication, wavered a little in its moods. " Proof
sheets of Hiawatha^'' he wrote in June, 1855. " I
am growing idiotic about this song, and no longer
know whether it is good or bad ; " and later still :
"In great doubt about a canto of Hiawatha, —
whether to retain or suppress it. It is odd how
confused one's mind becomes about such matters
from long looking at the same subject."

No sooner was the poem published than its pop-
ularity was assured, and it was subjected to the
most searching tests. It was read by public read-
ers to large audiences, and a few years later was
set to music by Stoepel and given at the Bos-
ton Theatre with explanatory readings by Matilda
Heron. It was parodied, — one of the surest signs
of popularity, and it lived its parodies down, a
surer sign still of intrinsic uncopyableness. It
was criticised with heated words, and made the oc-
casion for controversy. The elemental nature of

; i

110

THE SONG OF HIAWATHA

the poetry led to vehement charges of plagiarism,
and altogether the poet found himself in the midst
of a violent war of words which recalled his expe-
rience with Hyperion. He felt keenly the unrea-
sonableness of the attack upon his honesty in the
charge that he had borrowed metre and incidents
both from the Kalevala. He made no secret of
the suggestion of the metre, — he had used an ac-
knowledged form, which was not exclusively Fin-
nish ; and as for the legends, he openly confessed
his indebtedness to Schoolcraft in the notes to
the poem. Keferring to an article in a Washing-
ton paper, embodying these charges, he wrote to
Mr. Sumner, December 3, 1855 : —

This is truly one of the greatest literary outrages I
ever heard of. But I think it is done mainly to show
the learning of the writer. . . . He will stand finally in
the position of a man who makes public assertions
which he cannot substantiate. You see what the charge
of imitation amounts to, by the extracts given. As to
my having " taken many of the most striking incidents
of the Finnish Epic and transferred them to the Amer-
ican Indians " — it is absurd. I can give chapter and
verse for these legends. Their chief value is that they
are Indian legends. I know the Kalevala very well ;
and that some of its legends resemble the Indian stories
preserved by Schoolcraft is very true. But the idea of
making me responsible for that is too ludicrous.

Freiligrath wrote to him with reference to a dis-
cussion going on in the London Athenmum over
the metre : " The very moment I looked into the
book I exclaimed, —

Launawatar, Frau die alte,

INTRODUCTORY NOTE

111

and was laughing with you again over the pages
of the Finnische liuncn, as thirteen years ago on
the Rhine. The characteristic feature, which shows
that you have fetched the metre from the Finns, is
the 2)aralleUsin adopted so skilfully and so grace-
fully in Hiavmthar In a note in his diary upon
this letter, Mr. Longfellow added : "He does not
seem to be aware that the parallelism, or repeti-
tion, is as much the characteristic of Indian as of
Finnish song."

Freiligrath translated Hiawatha^ as he had other
of Mr. Longfellow's poems, and in acknowledg-
ing the receipt of the translation, the poet wrote,
January 29, 1857 : —

It is admirable, this translation of yours, as I knew
it would be from the samples sent before. A thousand
and a thousand thanks for it, and may Cotta pay you,
as the broker paid Guzman de Alfarache, in money
sahumada, y lavada con agiia de dngeles. A passage
was changed in the proofs which I sent to Bogne [the
English publisher], and which he promised to hand to
you. It is in the description of the sturgeon. This
was changed to —

As above him Hiawatha

In his birch canoe came sailing,

With his fishing line of cedar, —

because the sturgeon, I found, was never guilty of the
crime of frightening or eating his fellow fishes. . . .
What yo'i say, in the preface, of the close of the poem
is very true. The contact of Saga and History is too
sudden. But how could I remedy it unless I made the
poem very much longer ? I felt the clash and concus-
sion, but could not prevent nor escape it.

112

THE SONG OF HIAWATHA

Meanwhile the book had an unexampled sale,
and the letters which the poet received from Em-
erson, Hawthorne, Parsons, Taylor, and others
showed the judgment passed upon his work by those
whose poetic perception was not blunted by habits
of professional criticism nor taken captive by mere
novelty. Several years after, a translation into
Latin of a portion of the poem was made for use
as a school-book, by Professor Francis W. New-
man. A suggestive criticism, by Dr. Holmes, upon
the measure of the poem will be found in the notes
at the end of this volume.

; !

THE SONG OF HIAWATHA

INTRODUCTION.

Should yon ask me, whence these stories ?
Whence these legends and traditions,
With the odors of the forest,
With the dew and damp of meadows.
With the curling smoke of wigwams.
With the rushing of great rivers,
With their frequent repetitions,
And their wild reverberations,
As of thunder in the mountains ?
I should answer, I should tell you,

" From the forests and the prairies.
From the great lakes of the Northland,
From the land of the Ojibways,
From the land of the Dacotahs,
From the mountains, moors, and fen-lands
Where the heron, the Shuh-shuh-gah,
Feeds among the reeds and rushes.
I repeat them as I heard them
From the lips of Nawadaha,
The musician, the sweet singer."

Should you ask where Nawadaha
Found these songs so wild and wayward,
Found these legends and traditions,
I should answer, I should tell you,

" In the bird's-nests of the forest,

114 TUB SOX a OF HIAWATHA

In the lodges of the beaver,
In tlie hoof-i)rints of the bison,
In the eyiy of the eagle !

" All the wild-fowl sang them to him,
In the moorlands and the fen-lands,
In the melancholy marshes ;
Chetowaik, the plover, sang them,
Mahng, the loon, the wild-goose, Wawa,
The blue heron, the Shuh-shuh-gah,
And the grouse, the Mushkodasa ! "

If still further you should ask me,
Saying, " Who was Nawadaha ?
Tell us of this Nawadaha,"
I should answer your inquiries
Straightway in such words as follow.

" In the Vale of Tawasentha,
In the green and silent valley.
By the pleasant water-courses.
Dwelt the singer Nawadaha.
Round about the Indian village
Spread the meadows and the corn-fieldB,
And beyond them stood the forest.
Stood the groves of singing pine-trees,
Green in Summer, white in Winter,
Ever sighing, ever singing.

" And the pleasant water-courses.
You could trace them through the vaUey,
By the rushing in the Spring-time,
By the alders in the Summer,
By the white fog in the Autumn,
Bv the black line in the Winter ;
And beside them dwelt the singer,
In the vale of Tawasentha,
In the green and silent valley.

f|.' A^

THE SONG OF HIAWATHA

116

"There he sang of Hiawatha,
Sang the Song of Hiawatha,
Sang his wondrous birth and being,
How he prayed and how he fasted.
How he lived, and toiled, and suffered,
That the tribes of men might pro8i)er,
That he might advance his people ! "

Ye who love the haunts of Nature,
Love the sunshine of the meadow,
Love the shadow of the forest.
Love the wind among the branches.
And the rain-shower and the now-storm,
And the rushing of great rivers
Through their palisades of pine-trees,
And the thunder in the mountains,
Whose innumerable echoes
Flap like eagles in their eyries ; —
Listen t3 these wild traditions.
To this Song of Hiawatha I

Ye who love a nation's legends,
Love the ballads of a people.
That like voices from afar off
Call to us to pause and listen.
Speak in tones so plain and childlike,
Scarcely can the ear distinguish
Whether they are sung or spoken ; —
Listen to this Indian Legend,
To this Song of Hiawatha !

Ye whose hearts are fresh and simple,
Who have faith in God and Nature,
Who believe, that in all ages
Every human heart is human,
That in even savage bosoms

116

THE SONG OF HIAWATUA

There arc longings, yearnings, strivings
For tilt! good they comprehend not,
That the feeble hands and helpless,
Grojiing blindly in the darkness,
Touch God's right hand in that darkness
And are lifted up and strengthened ; —
Listen to this simple story,
To this Song of Hiawatha I

Ye, who sometimes, in your rambles
Through the green lanes of the country,
Wliere the tangled barberry-bushes
Hang their tufts of crimson berries
Over stone walls gray with mosses.
Pause by some neglected graveyard,
For a while to muse, and ponder
On a half-effaced inscription,
Written with little skill of song-craft,
Homely phrases, but each letter
Full of hope and yet of heart-break,
Full of all the tender pathos
Of the Here and the Hereafter ; —
Stay and read this rude inscription.
Read this Song of Hiawatha !

THE PEACE-PIPE.

On the Mountains of the Prairie,
On the great Red Pipe-stone Quarry,
Gitche Manito, the mighty.
He the Master of Life, descending.
On the red crags of the quarry

THE SONG OF III A WA THA

117

Stood en'ct, and called tho iiatiotifl,
Called tiio tiiluss of iiioii together.

Froiu his fo<)tj)rintH Howed a river,
Leaped into the light of morning,
O'er the precipice plunging downward
Gleamed like Ishkoodah, the eomet.
And the Spirit, stooping earthward,
With his finger on the meadow
Traced a winding pathway for it.
Saying to it, '' Kun in this way ! "

From the red stone of the quarry
With his hand he broke a fragment.
Moulded it into a pipe-head,
Shaped and fashioned it with figures ;
From the margin of the river
Took a long reed for a pipe-stem.
With its dark green leaves upon it ;
Filled the pipe with bark of willow,
With the bark of the red willow ;
Breathed upon the neighboring forest,
Made its great boughs chafe together.
Till in flame they burst and kindled •
And erect upon the mountains,
Gitche Manito, the mighty,
Smoked the calumet, the Peace-Pipe,
As a signal to the nations.

And the smoke rose slowly, slowly,
Through the tranquil air of morning.
First a single line of darkness.
Then a denser, bluer vapor.
Then a snow-white cloud unfolding,
Like the tree-tops of the forest,
Ever rising, rising, rising.

118

THE SONG OF III A WA TIIA

Till it touched the top of heaven,
Till it broke against the heaven,
And rolled outwjird all around it.

From the Vale of Tawasentha,
From the Valley of Wycmiing,
From the gi'oves of TuscalooHa,
F'rom the far-off Rocky Mountains,
From the Northern lakes and rivers
All the tribes beheld the signal,
Saw the distant smoke ascending,
The l*ukwana of the Peaee-Pipe.

And the Prophets of the nations
Said : " Behold it, the Pukwana I
By this signal from afar oif,
Bending like a wand of willow,
"Waving like a hand that beckons,
Gitche Manito, the mighty.
Calls the tribes of men together.
Calls the warriors to his council ! "

Down the rivers, o'er the prairies,
Came the warriors of the nations.
Came the Delawares and Mohawks,
Came the Choctaws and Caraanches,
Came the Shoshonies and BlacMeet,
Came the Pawnees and Omahas,
Came the Mandans and Dacotahs,
Came the Hurons and Ojibways,
All the warriors drawn together
By the signal of the Peace-Pipe,
To the Mountains of the Prairie,
To the great Red Pipe-stone Quarry.

And they stood there on the meadow,
With their weapons and their war-gear,

THE SONG OF HI A \VA THA

Painted like the leaves of Autumu,
Painttid liko the sky of morning.
Wildly glaring at each other ;
In their faeeH Htern defiance,
In their hearts the feuds of ages,
The hereditary hatred,
The ancestral thirst of vengeance.

Gitche Manito, the mighty,
The creator of the nations,
Looked upon them with compassion,
With paternal lovo and pity ;
Looked upon their wrath and wrangling
But as quarrels among children.
But as feuds and fights of children !

Over them he stretched his right hand,
To subdue their stubborn natures,
To allay their thirst and fever.
By the shadow of his right hand ;
Spake to them with voice majestic
As the sound of far-off waters.
Falling into deep abysses,
Warning, chiding, spake in this wise : —

" O my children ! my poor children I
Listen to the words of wisdom,
Listen to the words of warning.
From the lips of the Great Spirit,
From the Master of Life, who made you I

" I have given you lands to hunt in.
I have given you streams to fish in,
I have given you bear and bison,
I have given you roe and reindeer,
I have given you brant and beaver,
Filled the marshes full of wild-fowl,

119

120

THE SONG OF HIAWATHA

Filled the rivers full of fishes ;
Why then are you not contented ?
Why then will you hunt each other ?

" I am weary of your quarrels,
Weary of your wars and bloodshed,
Weary of your prayers for vengeance,
Of your wranglings and dissensions ;
All your strength is in your union.
All your danger is in discord ;
Therefore be at peace henceforward,
And as brother;^ live together.

" I will send a Prophet to you,
A Deliverer of the nations.
Who shall guide you and shall teach you,
Who shall toil and suffer with you.
If you listen to his counsels,
You will multiply and prosper ;
If his warnings pass unheeded.
You wiU fade away and perish !

" Bathe now in the stream before you.
Wash the war-paint from your faces.
Wash the blood-stains from your fingers.
Bury your war-clubs anv. your weapons.
Break the red stone from this quarry,
Mould and make it into Peace-Pipes,
Take the reeds that grow beside you.
Deck them with your brightest feathers,
Smoke the calumet together,
And as brothers live henceforward ! "

Then upon the ground the warriors
Threw their cloaks and shirts of deer-skin.
Threw their weapons and their war-gear.

THE SONG OF HIAWATHA

121

Leaped into the rushing river,
Washed the war-paint from their faces.
Clear above them flowed the water,
Clear and limpid from the footprints
Of the Master of Life descending ;
Dark below them flowed the water,
Soiled and stained with streaks of crimson,
As if blood were mingled with it !

From the river came the warriors,
Clean and washed from all their war-paint ;
On the banks their clubs they buried,
Buried all their warlike weapons.
Gitche Manito, the mighty.
The Great Spirit, the creator.
Smiled upon his helpless children !

And in silence all the warriors
Broke the red stone of the quarry.
Smoothed and formed it into Peace-Pipes,
Broke the long reeds by the river.
Decked them with their brightest feathers,
And departed each one homeward,
While the Master of Life, ascending,
Through the opening of cloud-curtains,
Through the doorways of the heaven.
Vanished from before their faces.
In the smoke that rolled around him,
The Pukwana of the Peace-Pipe !

122

THE SONQ OF HIAWATHA

II.

THE FOUR WINDS.

" Honor be to Mudjekeewis ! "
Cried the warriors, cried the old men,
When he came in triumph homeward
With the sacred Belt of Wampum,
From the regions of the North-Wind,
From the kingdom of Wabasso,
From the land of the White Rabbit.

He had stolen the Belt of Wampum
From the neck of Mishe-Mokwa,
From the Great Bear of the mountains,
From the terror of the nations.
As he lay asleep and cumbrous
On the summit of the mountains.
Like a rock with mosses on it.
Spotted brown and gray with mosses.

Silently he stole upon him
Till the red nails of the monster
Almost touched him, almost scared him,
Till the hot breath of his nostrils
Warmed the hands of Mudjekeewis,
As he drew the Belt of Wampum
Over the round ears, that heard not.
Over the small eyes, that saw not.
Over the long nose and nostrils.
The black muffle of the nostrils.
Out of which the heavy breathing
Warmed the hands of Mudjekeewis.

Then he swung aloft his war-club.
Shouted loud and long his war-cry,

THE SONG OF HIAWATHA

123

Smote the mighty Mishe-Mokwa
In the middle of the forehead,
Right between the eyes he smote him.

With the heavy blow bewildered,
Rose the Great Bear of the mountains ;
But his knees beneath him trembled,
And he whimpered like a woman.
As he reeled and staggered forward.
As he sat upon his haunches ;
And the mighty Mudjekeewis,
Standing fearlessly before him,
Taunted him in loud derision.
Spake disdainfully in this wise : —

" Hark you, Bear ! you are a coward,
And no Brave, as you pretended ;
Else you would not cry and whimper
Like a miserable woman !
Bear ! you know our tribes are hostile,
Long have been at war together ;
Now you find that we are strongest,
You go sneaking in the forest.
You go hiding in the mountains !
Had you conquered me in battle
Not a groan would I have uttered ;
But you. Bear ! sit here and whimper,
And disgrace your tribe by crying,
Like a wretched Shaugodaya,
Like a cowardly old woman ! "

Then again he raised his war-club,
Smote again the Mishe-Mokwa
In the middle of his forehead.
Broke his skull, as ice is broken
When one goes to fish in Winter.

124

THE SONG OF HIAWATHA

Thus was slain the Mishe-Mokwa,
He the Great Bear of the mountains,
He the terror of the nations.

" Honor be to Mudjekeewis ! "
With a shout exclaimed the people,
" Honor be to Mudjekeewis !
Henceforth he shall be the West- Wind,
And hereafter and forever
Shall he hold supreme dominion
Over all the winds of heaven.
Call him no more Mudjekeewis,
Call him Kabeyun, the West-Wind I "

Thus was Mudjekeewis chosen
Father of the Winds of Heaven.
For himself he kept the West- Wind,
Gave the others to his children ;
Unto Wabun gave the East- Wind,
Gave the South to Shawondasee,
And the North-Wind, wild and cruel,
To the fierce Kabibonokka.

Young and beautiful was Wabun ;
He it was v/ho brought the morning.
He it was whose silver arrows
Chased the dark o'er hill and valley- ;
He it was whose cheeks were painted
With the brightest streaks of crimson.
And whose voice awoke the village.
Called the deer, and called the hunter.

Lonely in the sky was Wabun ;
Though the birds sang gayly to him.
Though the wild-flowers of the meadow
Filled the air with odors for him ;
Though the forests and the rivers

Ti
Ti

THE SONG OF HIAWATHA

Sang and shouted at his coming,
Still his heart was sad within him,
For he was alone in heaven.

But one morning, gazing earthward,
While the village still was sleeping.
And the fog lay on the river,
Like a ghost, that goes at sunrise,
He beheld a maiden walking
All alone upon a meadow.
Gathering water-flags and rushes
By a river in the meadow.

Every morning, gazing earthward.
Still the first thing he beheld there
Was her blue eyes looking at him.
Two blue lakes among the rushes.
And he loved the lonely maiden.
Who thus waited for his coming ;
For they both were solitary,
She on earth and he in heaven.

And he wooed her with caresses.
Wooed her with his smile of sunshine,
With his flattering words he wooed her,
With hi?i sighing and his singing,
Gentlest whispers in the branches,
Softest music, sweetest odors,
Till he drew her to his bosom.
Folded in his robes of crimson,
Till into a star he changed her.
Trembling still upon his bosom ;
And forever in the heavens
They are seen together walking,
Wabun and the Wabun-Annung,
Wabun and the Star of Morning.

125

126

THE SONG OF HIAWATHA

But the fierce Kabibonokka
Had his dwelling among icebergs,
In the everlasting snow-drifts,
In the kingdom of Wabasso,
In the land of the White Rabbit.
He it was whose hand in Autumn
Painted all the trees with scarlet,
Stained the leaves with red and yellow ;
He it was who sent the snow-flakes,
Sifting, hissing through the forest,
Froze the ponds, the lakes, the rivers.
Drove the loon and sea-gull southward.
Drove the cormorant and curlew
To their nests of sedge and sea-tang
In the realms of Shawondasee.

Once the fierce Kabibonokka
Issued from his lodge of snow-drifts,
From his home among the icebergs.
And his hair, with snow besprinkled,
Streamed behind him like a river,
Like a black and wintry river,
As he howled and hurried southward,
Over frozen lakes and moorlands.

There among the reeds and rushes
Found he Shingebis, the diver.
Trailing strings of fish behind him,
O'er the frozen fens and moorlands,
Lingering still among the moorlands.
Though his tribe had long departed
To the land of Shawondasee.

Cried the fierce Kabibonokka,
" Who is this that dares to brave me ?
Dares to stay in my dominions,

Fr
Di

THE SONG OF HIAWATHA 127

When the Wawa has departed,

When the wiid-goose has gone southward,

And the heron, the Shuh-shuh-ga)i,

Long ago departed southward ?

I will go into his wigwam,

I will put his smouldering fire out ! "

And at night Kabioonokka
To the lodge came wild and wailing,
Heaped the snow in drifts about it.
Shouted down into the smoke-flue.
Shook the lodge-poles in his fury.
Flapped the curtain of the door-way.
Shingebis, the diver, feared not,
Shingebis, the diver, cared not ;
Four great logs had he for firewood.
One for each moon of the winter,
And for food the fishes served him.
By his blazing fire he sat there,
Warm and merry, eating, laughing.
Singing, " O Kabibonokka,
You are but my fellow-mortal ! "

Then Kabibonokka entered.
And though Shingebis, the diver,
Felt his presence by the coldness,
Felt his icy breath, upon him.
Still he did not cease his singing.
Still he did not leave his laughing.
Only turned the log a little.
Only made the fire burn brighter,
Made the sparks fly up the smoke-flue.

From Kabibonokka's forehead.
From his snow-besprinkled tresses.
Drops of sweat fell fast and heavy,

* I

128

THE SONG OF HIAWATHA

Making dints upon the ashes,

As along the eaves of lodges,

As from drooping boughs of hemlock,

Drips the melting snow in spring-time,

Making hollows in the snow-drifts.

Till at last he rose defeated,
Could not bear the heat and laughter,
Could not bear the merry singing,
But rushed headlong through the doorwii-y,
Stamped upon the crusted snow-drifts,
Stamped upon the lakes and rivers,
Made the snow upon them harder,
Made the ice upon them thicker,
Challenged Shingebis, the diver,
To come forth and wrestle with him.
To come forth and wrestle naked
On the frozen fens and moorlands.

Forth went Shingebis, the diver,
Wrestled all night with the North- Wind,
Wrestled naked on the moorlands
With the fierce Kabibonokka,
Till his panting breath grew fainter.
Till his frozen grasp grew feebler.
Till he reeled and staggered backward.
Arid retreated, baffled, beaten.
To the kingdom of Wabasso,
To the land of the White Kabbit,
Hearing still the gusty laughter,
Hearing Shingebis, the diver.
Singing, " O Kabibonokka,
You are but my fellow-mortal I "

Shawondasee, fat and lazy,
Had his dwelling far to southward.

THE SONG OF HIAWATHA 129

In the drowsy, dreamy sunshine,

In the never-ending Summer.

He it was who sent the wood-birds,

Sent the robin, the Opechee,

Sent the blue-bird, the Owuissa,

Sent the Shawshaw, sent the swallow,

Sent the wild-goose, Wawa, northward,

Sent the melons and tobacco.

And the grapes in purple clusters.

From his pipe the smoke ascending
Filled the sky with haze and vapor,
Filled the air with dreamy softness.
Gave a twinkle to the water.
Touched the rugged hills with smoothness,
Brought the tender Indian Summer
To the melancholy north-land.
In the dreary Moon of Snow-shoes.

Listless, careless Shawondasee !
In his life he had one shadow.
In his heart one sorrow had he.
Once, as he was gazing northward.
Far away upon a prairie
He beheld a maiden standing.
Saw a tall and slender maiden
AU alone upon a prairie ;
Brightest green were all her garments,
And her hair was like the sunshine.

Day by day he gazed upon her,
Day by day he sighed with passion.
Day by day his heart within him
Grew more hot with love and longing

Line 4. Sent the Opechee, the robin,

Line 17. In the Moon when uighta are brightest.

.■i\ i"

!^>'.

130

THE SONG OF HIAWATHA

For the maid with yellow tresses,
liut he was too fat and lazy
To bestir himself and woo her.
Yes, too indolent and easy
To pursue her and persuade her ;
So he only gazed upon her,
Only sat and sighed with passion
For the maiden of the prairie.

Till one morning, looking northward,
He beheld her yellow tresses
Changed and covered o'er with whiteness,
Covered as with whitest snow-flakes.
*' Ah ! my brother from the North-land,
From the kingdom of Wabasso,
From the land of the White Rabbit 1
You have stolen the maiden from me,
You have laid your hand upon her,
You have wooed and won my maiden.
With your stories of the North-land I '*

Thus the wretched Shawondasee
Breathed into the air his sorrow ;
And the South- vVind o'er the prairie
Wandered warm with sighs of passion,
With the sighs of Shawondasee,
Till the air seemed full of snow-flakes.
Full of thistie-down the prairie.
And the maid with hair like sunshine
Vanished from his sight forever ;
Never more did Shawondasee
See the maid with yellow tresses I

Poor, deluded Shawondasee !
'T was no woman that you gazed at,
'T was no maiden that you sighed for,

THE SONG OF HIAWATHA

'T was the prairie dandelion
That through all the dreamy Summei*
You had gazed at with such longing,
You had sighed for with such passion,
And had puffed away forever,
Blown into the air with sighing.
Ah ! deluded Shawondasee !

Thus the Four Winds were divided ;
Thus the sons of Mudjekeewis
Had their stations in the heavens,
At the corners of the heavens ;
For himself the West-Wind only
Kept the mighty Mudjekeewis.

III.

Hiawatha's childhood.

Downward through the evening twilight,
In the days that are forgotten,
In the unremembered ages,
From the full moon fell Nokomis,
Fell the beautiful Nokomis,
She a wife, but not a mother.

She was sporting with her women,
Swinging in a swing of grape-vines,
When her rival the rejected,
Full of jealousy and hatred.
Cut the leafy swing asunder.
Cut in twain the twisted grape-vines,
And Nokomis fell affrighted
Downward through the evening twilight,
On the Muskoday, the meadow,

181

'-•*««^

132

THE SONG OF HIAWATHA

On the prairie full of blossoms
'' See I a star falls I " said tho people ;
" From the sky a star is falling 1 "
There among tho ferns and mosses,

There among the prairie lilies,

On tho Muskoday, the meadow,

In the moonlight and tho starlight,

Fair Nokomis bore a daughter.

And she called her name Wenonah,

As the first-born of her daughters.

And the daughter of Nokomis

Grew up like the prairie lilies,

Grew a tall and slender maiden.

With the beauty of the moonlight,

With the beauty of the starlight.
And Nokomis warned her often,

Saying oft, and oft repeating,
" Oh, beware of Mudjekeewis,

Of the West- Wind, Mudjekeewis j

Listen not to what he tells you ;

Lie not down upon the meadow,

Stoop not down among the lilies.

Lest the West- Wind come and harm you ! "
But she heeded not the warning,

Heeded not those words of wisdom,

And the West- Wind ca^^p at evening,

Walking lightly o'er the prairie,

Whispering to the leaves and blossoms.

Bending low the flowers and grasses.

Found the beautiful Wenonah,

Lying there among the lilies.

Wooed her with his words of sweetness.

Wooed her with his soft caresses.

THE SONG OF HIAWATHA

188

Till Hhe boro a hoii in sorrow,
Boro u son of love and Horrow.

Thu8 was born my lliuwatha,
Thus was born tlio child of wonder ;
But tho daughter of Nokoniis,
Hiawatha's gentle mother,
In her anguish died deserted
By the West-Wind, false and faithless,
By the heartless Mudjekeewis.

For her daughter long and loudly
Wailed and wept the sad Nokomis ;
" Oh that I were dead I " she murmured,
" Oh that I were dead, as thou art I
No more work, and no more weeping,
Wahonowin ! Wahonowin I "

By the shores of Gitche Gumee,
By the shining Big-Sea-Water,
Stood the wigwam of Nokomis,
Daughter of the Moon, Nokomis.
Dark behind it rose the forest.
Rose the black and gloomy pine-trees,
Eose the firs with cones upon them ;
Bright before it beat the water,
Beat the clear and sunny water.
Beat the shining Big-Sea- Water.

There the wrinkled old Nokomis
Nursed the little Hiawatha,
Rocked him in his linden cradle,
Bedded soft in moss and rushes,
Safely bound with reindeer sinews ;
Stilled his fretful wail by saying,
" Hush ! the Naked Bear will hear thee I **
Lulled him into slumber, singing,

lilt.

134

THE SONG OF HIAWATHA

" Ewa-yea ! my little owlet !
Who is this, that lights the wigwam ?
With his great eyes lights the wigwam ?
Ewa-yea ! my little owlet ! "

Many things Nokomis taught him
Of the stars that shine in heaven ;
Showed him Ishkoodah, the comet,
Ishkoodah, with fiery tresses ;
Showed the Death-Dance of the spirits,
Warriors with their plumes and war-clubs,
Flaring far away to northward
In the frosty nights of Winter ;
Showed the broad white road in heaven,
Pathway of the ghosts, the shadows.
Running straight across the heavens,
Crowded with the ghosts, the shadows.

At the door on summer evenings
Sat the little Hiawatha ;
Heard the whispering of the pine-trees,
Heard the lapping of the waters,
Sounds of music, wjrds of wonder ;

" Minne-wawa ! " said the pine-trees,

" Mudway-aushka ! " said the water.
Saw the fire-fly, Wah-wah-taysee,
Flitting through the dusk of evening.
With the twinkle of its candle
Lighting up the brakes and bushes,
And he sang the song of children,
Sang the song Nokomis taught him :

" Wah-wah-taysee, little fire-fly.
Little, flitting, white-fire insect,
Little, dancing, white-fire creature.
Light me w^ith your little candle,

THE SONG OF HIAWATHA

135

((

Ere upon my bed I lay me,

Ere in sleep I close my eyelids ! "

Saw the moon rise from the water
Rippling, rounding from the water,
Saw the flecks and shadows on it.
Whispered, " What is that, Nokomis ? "
And the good Nokomis answered :
Once a warrior, very angry,
Seized his grandmother, and threw her
Up into the sky at midnight ;
Right against the moon he threw her ;
'Tis her body that you see there."

Saw the rainbow in the heaven,
In the eastern sky, the rainbow,
Whispered, " What is that, Nokomis ? "
And the good Nokomis answered :
'T is the heaven of flowers you see there ;
All the wild-flowers of the forest.
All the lilies of the prairie.
When on earth they fade and perish,
Blossom in that heaven above us."

When he heard the owls at midnight,
Hooting, laughing in the forest.
What is that ? " he cried in terror.
What is that ? " he said, « Nokomis ? "
And the good Nokomis answered :
That is but the owl and owlet.
Talking in their native language,
Talking, scolding r*t each other."

Then the little Hiawatha
Learned of every bird its language,
Learned their names and all their secrets,
How they built their nests in Summer,

136

THE SONG OF HIAWATHA

Where they hid themselves in Winter,
Talked with them whene'er he met them,
Called them " Hiawatha's Chickens."

Of all beasts he learned the language,
Learned their names and all their secrets,
How the beavers built their lodges,
Where the squirrels hid their acorns.
How the reindeer ran so swiftly.
Why the rabbit was so timid,
Talked with them whene'er he met them,
Called them " Hiawatha's Brothers."

Then lagoo, the great boaster.
He the marvellous story-teller,
He the traveller and the talker,
He the friend of old Nokomis,
Made a bow for Hiawatha ;
From a branch of ash he made it.
From an oak-bough made the arrows.
Tipped with flint, and winged with feathers,
And the cord he made of deer-skin.
Then h<i said to Hiawatha :

" Go, my son, into the f orost.
Where the red deer herd together,
Kill for us a famous roebuck.
Kill for us a deer with antlers ! "

Forth into the forest straightway
All alone walked Hiawatha
Proudly, with his bow and arrows ;
And the birds sang round him, o'er him,

" Do not shoot us, Hiawatha ! "
Sang the robin, the vOpechee,
Sang the bluebird, the Owaissa,

" Do not shoot us, Hiawatha 1 "

Liue 31. Sang the Opechee, the robin,

THE SONG OF HIAWATHA

137

Up the oak-tree, close beside him,
Sprang the squirrel, Adjidaumo,
In and out among the branches.
Coughed and chattered from the oak-tree.
Laughed, and said between his laughing,
*' Do not shoot me, Hiawatha ! "

And the rabbit from his pathway-
Leaped aside, and at a distance
Sat erect upon his haunches,
Half in fear and half in frolic,
Saying tc the little hunter,
" Do not shoot me, Hiawatha ! "

But he heeded not, nor heard them.
For his thoughts were with the red deer ;
On their tracks his eyes were fastened,
Leading downward to the river.
To the ford across the river.
And as one in slumber walked he.

Hidden in the alder-bushes.
There he waited till the deer came,
Till he saw two antlers lifted.
Saw two eyes look from the thicket,
Saw two nostrils point to windward,
And a deer came down the pathway,
Flecked with leafy light and shadow.
And his heart within him fli .ttered.
Trembled like the leav-^s above him.
Like the birch-leaf palpitated,
As the deer came down the pathway.

Then, upon one knee uprising,
Hiawatha aimed an arrow ;
Scarce a twig moved with his motion,
Scarce a leaf was stirred or rustled,

138 THE SONG OF HIAWATHA

But the wary roebuck started,
Stamped with all his hoofs together,
Listened with one foot uplifted,
Leaped as if to meet the arrow ;
Ah ! the singing, fatal arrow,
Like a wasp it buzzed and stung him !

Dead he lay there in the forest.
By the ford across the river ;
Beat his timid heart no longer.
But the heart of Hiawatha
Throbbed and shouted and exulted,
As he bore the red deer homeward.
And lagoo and Nokomis
Hailed his coming with applauses.

From the red deer's hide Nokomis
Made a cloak for Hiawatha,
From the red deer's flesh Nokomis
Made a banquet to his honor.
All the village came and feasted,
All the guests praised Hiawatha,
Called him Strong-Heart, Soan-ge-taha I
Called him Loon-Heart, Mahn-go-taysee I

[V.

HIAWATHA AND MUDJEKEEWIS.

Out of childhood into manhood
Now had grown my Hiawatha,
Skilled in all the craft of hunters,
Learned in all the lore of old men,
In all youthful sports and pastimes,
In all manly arts and labors.

S<
A
A

THE SONG OF HIAWATHA

139

Swift of foot was Hiawatha ;
He could shoot an arrow from him,
And run forward with such fleetness,
That the arrow fell behind him I
Strong of arm was Hiawatha ;
He could shoot ten arrows unward.
Shoot them with such strength and swiftness,
That the tenth had left the bow-string
Ere the first to earth had fallen !

He had mittens, Minjekahwun,
Magic mittens made of deer-skin ;
When upon his hands he wore them,
He could smite the rocks asunder.
He could grind them into powder.
He had moccasins enchanted,
Magic moccasins of deer-skin ;
When he bound them round his ankles,
When upon his feet he tied them,
At each strida a mile he measured !

Much he questioned old Nokomis
Of his father Mudjekeewis ;
Learned from her the fatal secret
Of the beauty of his mother,
Of the falsehood of his father ;
And his heart was hot within him.
Like a living coal his heart was.

Then he said to old Nokomis,
" X will go to Mudjekeewis,
See how fares it with my father.
At the doorways of the West-Wind,
At the portals of the Sunset ! "

From his lodge went Hiawatha,
Dressed for travel, armed for hunting ;

|! I

140 THE SONG OF HIAWATHA

Dressed in deer-skin shirt and leggings,
Richly wrought with quills and wampum ;
On his head his eagle-feathers,
Bound his waist his belt of wampum,
In his hand his Low of ash-wood,
Strung with sinews of the reindeer ;
In his quiver oaken arrows.
Tipped with jasper, winged with feathers ;
With his mittens, Minjekahwun,
With his moccasins enchanted.

Warning said the old Nokomis,
" Go not forth, O Hiawatha I
To the kingdom of the West-Wind,
To the realms of Mudjekeewis,
Lest he harm you with his magic.
Lest he kill you with his cunning I "

But the fearless Hiawatha
Heeded not her woman's warning ;
Forth he strode into the forest,
At each stride a mile he measured ;
Lurid seemed the sky above him,
Lurid seemed the earth beneath him,
Hot and (jlose the air around him.
Filled with smoke and fiery vapors.
As of burning woods and prairies.
For his heart was hot within him.
Like a living coal his heart was.

So he journeyed westward, westward,
Left the fleetest deer behind him,
Left the antelope and bison ;
Crossed the rushing Esconaba,
Crossed the mighty Mississippi,
Passed the Mountains of the Prairie,

THE SONG OF HIAWATHA

141

Passed the land of Crows and Foxes,
Passed the dwellings of the Blaekfeet,
Came unto the liocky Mountains,
To the kingdom of the West- Wind,
Where upon the gusty summits
Sat the ancient Mudjekecwis,
Ruler of the winds of heaven.

Filled with awe was Hiawatha
At the aspect of his father.
On the air about him wildly
Tossed and streamed his cloudy tresses,
Gleamed like drifting snow his tresses.
Glared like Ishkoodah, the comet.
Like the star with fiery tresses.

Filled with joy was Mudjekeewis
When he looked on Hiawatha,
Saw his youth rise up before him
In the face of Hiawatha,
Saw the beauty of Wenonah
From the grave rise up before him.

" Welcome ! " said he, " Hiawatha,
To the kingdom of the West- Wind !
Long have I been waiting for you !
Youth is lovely, age is lonely.
Youth is fiery, age is frosty ;
You bring back the days departed.
You bring back my youth of passion.
And the beautiful Wenonah ! "

Many days they talked together.
Questioned, listened, waited, answered ;
Much the mighty Mudjekeewis
Boasted of his ancient prowess.
Of his perilous adventures,

142

THE SONG OF HIAWATHA

His indomitable courage,
His invulnerable body.

Patiently sat Hiawathi,
Listening to his father's boasting ;
"With a smile he sat and listened,
Uttered neither threat nor menace,
Neither word nor look betrayed him,
But his heart was hot within him,
Like a living coal his heart was.

Then he said, " O Mudjekeewis,
Is there nothing that can harm you ?
Nothing that you are afraid of ? "
And the mighty Mudjekeewis,
Grand and gracious in his boasting.
Answered, saying, " There is nothing.
Nothing but the black rock yonder,
Nothing but the fatal "Wawbeek I "

And he looked at Hiawatha
With a wise look and benignant.
With a countenance paternal.
Looked with pride upon the beauty
Of his tall and graceful figuie.
Saying, " O my Hiawatha 1
Is there anything can harm you ?
Anything you are afraid of ? "

But the wary Hiawatha
Paused awhile, as if uncertain.
Held his peace, as if resolving.
And then answered, " There is nothing.
Nothing but the bulrush yonder.
Nothing but the great Apukwa ! "

And as Mudjekeewis, rising,
Stretched his hand to pluck tb^ bulrush.

THE SONG OF HIAWATHA

143

Hiawatha cried in terror,
Cried in well-dissembled terror,
" Kago ! kago ! do not touch it ! "
" Ah, kaween ! " said Mudjekeewis,
" No indeed, I will not touch it ! "

Then they talked of other matters ;
First of Hiawatha's brothers,
First of Wabun, of the East-Wind,
Of the South- Wind, Shawondasee,
Of the North, Kabibonokka ;
Then of Hiawatha's mother,
Of the beautiful Wenonah,
Of her birth upon the meadow,
Of her death, as old Nokomis
Had remembered and related.

And he cried, " O Mudjekeewis,
It was you who killed Wenonah,
Took her young life and her beauty,
Broke the Lily of the Prairie,
Trampled it beneath your footsteps ;
You confess it ! you confess it ! "
And the mighty Mudjekeewis
Tossed upon the wind his tresses.
Bowed his hoary head in anguish,
With a silent nod assented.

Then up started Hiawatha,
And with threatening look and gesture
Laid his hand upon the black rock,
On the fatal Wawbeek laid it,
With his mittens, Mir jekahwun,
Rent the jutting crag asunder.
Smote and crushed it into fragments.
Hurled them madly at his father,

144

THE SONG OF HI A WA Til A

The remorseful Mudjokeowis,
For his heart was hot within him,
Like a living coal his heart was.

\\\\t the ruler of the West-Wind
Blew the fragni<;ntH backward from him,
With the breathing of his nostrils.
With the tempest of his anger,
Blew them back at his assailant ;
Seized the bulrush, the Apukwa,
Dragged it with its roots and fibres
From the margin of the meadow,
From i '^ ooze the giant bulrush ;
Long and loud laughed Hiawatha !

Then began the deadly conflict.
Hand to hand among the mountains ;
From his eyry screamed the eagle,
The Keneu, the great war-eagle.
Sat upon the crags around them,
Wheeling flapped his wings above them.

Like a tall tree in the tempest
Bent and lashed the giant bulrush ;
And in masses huge and heavy
Crashing fell the fatal Wawbeek ;
Till the earth shook with the tumult
And confusion of the battle.
And the air was full of shoutings.
And the thunder of the mountains.
Starting, answered, " Baim-wawa ! "

Back retreated Mudjekeewis,
Rushing westward o'er the mountains.
Stumbling westward down the mountains.
Three whole days retreated fighting.
Still pursued by Hiawatha

THE SONG OF HIAWATHA

145

To the doorways of tho West- Wind,
To tho portals of the vSuiisct,
To tho earth's remotest border,
Where into tho empty spaces
Sinks the sun, as a Hamingo
Drops into her nest at nightfall
In the melancholy marshes.

" Hold I " at length cried Mudjekeewis,
" Hold, my son, my Hiawatha !
'T is impossible to kill me.
For you cannot kill the immortal.
I have put you to this trial.
But to know and prove your courage ;
Now receive the prize of valor !

" Go back to your home and people,
Live among them, toil among them.
Cleanse the earth from all that harms it,
Clear the fishing-grounds and rivers,
Slay all monsters and magicians.
All the Wendigoes, the giants,
All the serpents, the Kenabeeks,
As I slew the Mishe-Mokwa,
Slew the Great Bear of the mountains.

" And at last when Death draws near you,
When the awful eyes of Pauguk
Glare upon you in the darkness,
I will share my kingdom with you,
Ruler shall you be thenceforward
Of the Northwest- Wind, Keewaydin,
Of the home-wind, the Keewaydin."

Thus was fought that famous battle
In the dreadful days of Shah-shah,

Line 20. All the giants, the Wendigoes,

146 THE SONG OF HIAWATHA

In the (lays lon;^ since dt'imrted,
In the kiuf^doni of the West-Wind.
Still tl:.; hunter sees its tnices
Seattered far o'er hill and valley ;
Sees the giant bulrush growing
By the ponds and water-courses,
Sees the masses of the Wawbeek
Lying still in every valley.

Homeward now went Hiawatha ;
Pleasant was the landscape round him,
Pleasant was the air above him,
For the bitterness of anger
Had departed wholly from lil^n.
From his brain the thought of vc*^(?eance,
From his heart the burning fever.

Only once his pace he slackened.
Only once he paused or halted.
Paused to purchase heads of arrows
Of the ancient Arrow-maker,
In the land of the Dacotahs,
Where the Falls of Minnehaha
Flash and gleam among the oak-trees,
Laugh and leap into the valley.

There the ancient Arrow-maker
Made his arrow-heads of sandstone,
Arrow-heads of chalcedony,
Arrow-heads of flint and jasper.
Smoothed and sharpened at the edges.
Hard and polished, keen and costly.

"With him dwelt his dark-eyed daughter,
Wayward as the Minnehaha,
With her moods of shade and sunshine.
Eyes that smiled and frowned alternate.

THE SONG OF HIAWATHA

147

Foot, as rapid jis tho rivtT,
TrcHHos flowing like tho water,
And as musical a laughter :
And ho named her from tho river,
From tho water-fall ho named her,
Minnehaha, Laugliing Water.

Was it then for heads of arrows,
Arrow-heads of ehalcedony,
Arr()W-hea<ls of flint and jasper,
That my Hiawatha halted
In tho land of tho Dacotahs?

Was it not to aeo tho maiden.
See tho face of Laughing Water
Peeping from behind tho curtain,
Hear the rustling of her garments
From behind the waving curtain.
As one sees the Minnehaha
Gleaming, glancing through the branches,
As one hears the Lauyiiing Water
From behind its screen of branches ?

Who shall say what thoughts and visions
Fill the fiery brains of young men ?
Who shall say what dreams of beauty
Filled the heart of Hiawatha ?
All he told to old Nokomis,
When he reached the lodge at sunset,
Was the meeting with his father.
Was his fight with Mudjekeewis ;
Not a word he said of arrows,
Not a word of Laughing Water.

148

THE SONG

OF
V.

HIAWATHA

Hiawatha's

FASTING.

\'n

Yovi shall hear how Hiawatha
Prayed and fasted in the forest,
Not for greater skill in hunting,
Not for greater craft in fishing,
Not for triumphs in the battle,
And renown among the warriors.
But for profit of the people.
For advantage of the nations.

First he built a lodge for fasting,
Buili; a wigwam in tiie forest,
By the shining Big-Sea- Water,
In the blithe and pleasant Spring-time,
In the Moon of Leaves he built it.
And, with dreams and visions many,
St 7en whole days and nights he fasted.

On the first day of his fasting
Through the leafy woods he wandered ;
Saw the deer start from the thicket.
Saw the rabbit in his burrow.
Heard the pheasant, Bena, drumming.
Heard the squirrel, Adjidaumo,
Battling in his hoard of acorns,
Saw the pigeon, the Omeme,
Building nests among the pine-trees.
And in flocks the wild goose., Wawa,
Flying to the fen-lands northward,
Whirring, wailing far above him.
" Master of Life ! " he cried, desponding,
" Must our lives depend on these things ? "

J B rivei s brink he wandered

And ^e strawberry, Odal.4
And the goosebcwy, Shahlom n

A^ the grape-vine, the Bemah' t
Trml,ng o'er the alder-branches
Mmg all the air with f, " ' ,
"Master of Life "11 f^Sran"^-'
"Must our lim de„™V"*'^L'''^'P°''''"S'

OnthetLTrddTofrf^^^S^^"
By the lake he sat ani ^""«^
Bv th. ctn . ™ pondered,

in h.s lodge he lay exhausted,

Grng'':i:rs;''"^*''"'"'--hes

^uuofrhadotjirff'..
0"thedi.y.:^i„r;rd~'

Andhesawayouthapproaehing,

149

■|li

150 THE SONG OF HIAWATHA

Dressed in garments green and yellow
Coming through the purple twilight,
Through the splendor of the sunset ;
Plumes of green bent o'er his forehead,
And his hair was soft and golden.

Standing at the open doorway.
Long he looked at Hiawatha-
Looked with pity and compassion
On his wasted form and features,
And, in accents like the sighing
Of the South- Wind in the tree-tops,
Said he, " my Hiawatha !
All your prayers are heard in heaven,
For you pray not like the others ;
Not for greater skill in hunting.
Not for greater craft in fishing.
Not for triumph in the battle.
Nor renown among the warriors,
But for profit of the people.
For advantage of the nations.

" From the Master of Life descending,
I, the friend of man, Mondamin,
Come to warn you and instruct you.
How by struggle and by labor
You shall gain what you have prayed for.
Rise up from your bed of branches.
Rise, O youth, and wrestlt with me ! "

Faint with famine, Hiawatha
Started from his bed of branches.
From the twilight of his wigwam
Forth into the flush of sunset
Came, and wrestled with Mondamin ;
At his touch he felt new courage

' 1

THE SONG OF HTA^^r.
An^ *k ^ ^^ sunset,

..|--l».u^„ta:;;- -''Monday,.,
-out to-morrow, when fho o

And he vanished, and ^aLl„„„,.

Only saw that he had vanish;d
W„.g h,™ alone and faintij,

And the r^ehng stars above him.
On the morrow and the next day

Came M„„d^„i„ for the trid
For the strife with Hiawatha ;
Came as silent a. the dew comes

151

152 THE SONG OF HIAWATHA

From the empty air appearing,
Into empty air returning,
Taking shape when earth it touches,
But invisible to all men
In its coming and its going.

Thrice they wrestled there together
In the glory of the sunset,
Till the darkness fell around them.
Till the heron, the Shuh-shuh-gah,
From her nest among the pine-trees,
Uttered her loud cry of famine,
And Mondamin paused to listen.

Tall and beautiful he stood there.
In his garments green and yellow ;
To and fro his plumes above him
Waved and nodded with his breathing,
And the sweat of the encounter
Stood like drops of dew upon him.

And he cried, " O Hiawatha !
Bravely have you wrestled with me.
Thrice have wrestled stoutly with me,
And the Master of Life, who sees us.
He will give to you the triumph ! "

Then he smiled, and said : " To-morrow
Is the last day of your conflict.
Is the last day of your fasting.
You will conquer and o'ercome me ;
Make a bed for me to lie in,
Where the rain may fall upon me.
Where the sun may come and warm me ;
Strip these garments, green and yellow,
Strip this nodding plumage from me.

Line 10. From her haunts among the f en-Unds,

f'k

THE SONG OF HIAWATH I

Let not Kahgahgoe, the raven
Come to haunt nae and n,oIest 'n.e
On V come yourself to watch le

S ,::,■;!■"• ^'"""'--l^uicLn.
" i Jeaj, into the sunshine."

And hus saying, he departed •

^fr,«^"% «lep' Hiawatha" '

on°tit:rd:;7hiff r-

CamewitijfoajS:^-*"'^'

153

Br,.

154 THE SONG OF HIAWATHA

Till the heron, the Shuh-shuh-gah,
Crying from the desolate marshes,
Tells us that the day is ended."

Homeward weeping went Nokomis,
Sorrowing for her Hiawatha,
Fearing lest his strength should fail him,
Lest his fasting should be fatal.
He meanwhile sat weary waiting
For the coming of Monuaran,
Till the shadows, pointing eastward,
Lengthened over field and forest,
Till the sun dropped from the heaven,
Floating on the waters westward,
As a red leaf in the Autumn
Falls and floats upon the water.
Falls and sinks into its bosom.

And behold ! the young Mondamin,
With his soft and shining tresses.
With his garments green and yellow,
With his long and glossy plumage.
Stood and beckoned at the doorway,
And as one in slumber walking,
Pale and haggard, but undaunted.
From the wigwam Hiawatha
Came and wrestled with Mondamin.

Round about him spun the landscape,
Sky and forest reeled together,
And his strong heart leaped within him,
As the sturgeon leaps and struggles
In a net to break its meshes.
Like a ring of fire around him
Blazed and flared the red horizon.
And a hundred suns seemed looking
At the combat of the wrestlers.

THE SONG OF HIAWATHA

155

Suddenly upon the greensward
All alone 8);ood Hiawatha,
Panting with his wild exertion,
Palpitating with the struggle ;
And before him breathless, lifeless,
Lay the youth, with hair dishevelled,
Plumage torn, and garments tattered.
Dead he lay there in the sunset.

And victorious Hiawatha
Made the grave as he commanded.
Stripped the garments from Mondamin,
Stripped his tattered plumage from him.
Laid him in the earth, and made it
Soft and loose and light above him ;
And the heron, the Shuh-shuh-gah,
From the melancholy moorlands.
Gave a cry of lamentation.
Gave a cry of pain and anguish !

Homeward then went Hiawatha
To the lodge of old Nokomis,
And the seven days of his fasting
Were accomplished and completed.
But the place was not forgotten
Where he wrestled with Mondamin ;
Nor forgotten nor neglected
Was the grave where lay Mondamin,
Sleeping in the rain and sunshine.
Where his scattered plumes and garments
Faded in the rain and sunshine.

Day by day did Hiawatha
Go to wait and watch beside it ;
Kept the dark mould soft above it,
Kept it clean from weeds and insects.

15t> THE SON a OF i.'IAWATIIA

Drove away, with scoffs i.,nd shoutings,
Kahgahgoe, the king of n.vens.

Till at length a small green feather
From the earth shot slowly upward,
Then another and another,
And before the Summer ended
Stood the maize in all its beauty,
With its shining robes about it.
And its long, soft, yellow tresses ;
And in rapture Hiawatha
Cried aloud, "It is Mondamin !
Yes, tin; friend of man, Mondamin I "

TLeii lie called to old Nokomis
And lagoo, the great boaster,
Showed them where the maizo was growing,
Told them c ' his wondrous vision,
Of his wrestling aad his triumph,
Of this new j^if t to the nations,
Which should be their food forever.

And still later, when the Autumn
Changed the long, green leaves to yellow.
And the soft and juicy kernels
Grew like wampum hard and yellow.
Then the ripened ears he gathered.
Stripped the withered husks from off them,
As he once had stripped the wrestler,
Gave the first Feast of Mondamin,
And made known unto the people
This new gift of the Great Spirit.

lem,

THE SONG OF HIAWATHA 167

VI.

Hiawatha's friends.

Two good friends had Hiawatha,

Singled out from all the others,

Bound to him in closest union.

And to whom he gave the right hand

Of his heart, in joy and sorrow ;

Chibiabos, the musician.

And the very strong man, Kwasind.

Straight between them ran the pathway,
Never grew the grass upon it ;
Singing birds, that utter falsehoods,
Story-tellers, mischief-makers,
Found no eager ear to listen.
Could not breed ill-will between them.
For they kept ea( Ii other's counsel,
Spake with naked hearts together.
Pondering much and much contriving
How the tribes of men might prosper.

Most beloved by Hiawatha
Was the gentle Chibiabos,
He the best of all musicians,
He the sweetest of all singers.
Beautiful and childlike was he.
Brave as man is, soft as woman.
Pliant as a wand of willow.
Stately as a deer with antlers.

When he sang, the village listened ;
All the warriors gathered round him.
All the women came to hear him ;
Now he stirred their souls to passion,
Now he melted them to pity.

168

rilE SONG OF HIAWATHA

From tho hollow reeds ho fashioned
Fhites so musical and mell(>\v,
That the brook, the Sohowisha,
Ceased to inurmur in the woodland,
That the wood-birds ceased from singing.
And the squirrel, Adjidaunio,
Ceased his chatter in the oak-tree,
And the rabbit, the Wabasso,
Sat upright to look and listen.

Yes, the brook, the Sebowisha,
Pausing, said, " O Chil)iabos,
Tea(!h my waves to flow in nmsic,
Softly as your words in singing ! "

Yes, the Iduebird, the Owaissa,
Envio;is, said, " O Chibiabos,
Teach lue tones as wild and wayward,
Teach me songs as full of frenzy ! "

Yes, the robin, the Opechee,
Joyons, said, " O Chibiabos,
Teach me tones as sweet and tender,
Tea(!h me songs as ful^ of gladness I "

And the whippoo. «vill, Wawonaissa,
Sobbing, said, " O Chibiabos,
Teach me tones as melancholy,
Teach me songs as full of sadness I "

All the many sounds of nature
Borrowed sweetness from his singing ;
All the hearts of men -were softened
l\y the pathos of his music ;
For he sang of j)eace and freedom,
Sang of beauty, love, and longing ;
Sang of death, and life undying

Line 18. Yes, tbi3 Opuchee, the robin,

THE SONG OF HIAWATHA

159

In tho Islands of the Blessed,
In tho kingdom of Pon(?niah,
Jn tho land of the Hereafter.

Very dear to Hiawatha
Was tho genthj Chihiabos,
He tho best of all niusioians,
He the sweetest of all singers ;
For his gentleness he loved him,
And the Miagie of his singing.

Dear, too, nnto Hiawatha
Was the very strong man, Kwasind,
He tho strongest of all mortals.
He the mightiest among many ;
For his very strength he loved him,
For his streng-th allied to goodness.

Idle in his youth was Kwasind,
Very listless, dull, and dreamy.
Never played with other children,
Never fished and never hunted.
Not like other children was he ;
But they saw that much he fasted,
Much his Manito entreated,
Much besought his Guardian Spirit.

" Lazy Kwasind ! " said his mother,
Tn my work you never help me !
In the Summer you are roaming
Idly in the fields and forest ;
In the Winter you are cowering
O'er the firebrands in the wigwam !
In the coldest days of Winter
I must break the ice for fishing ;
With my nets you never help me !

Liue 27. Idly iu the fields aud forests ;

160

THE SONG OF IIIAWATJIA

At tho door my nets ant hanging,
Dripping, fruuzing witli tho water;
(to iuul wring tlioni, Yonudizzc !
(lo and dry them in the Hunshino I "

Slowly, from the ashes, Kwasind
Kose, but made no angry answer ;
From the lodge went forth in silence,
Took the nets, that hung together.
Dripping, freezing at the doorway,
Like a wisp of straw ho wrung them,
Like a wisj) of straw ho broke them.
Could not wring them without breaking,
Such tho strength was in his fingers.

" Lazy Kwasind I " said his father,
" In the hunt you never help me ;
Every bow you touch is broken.
Snapped asundtsr every arrow ;
Yet come with me to the forest,
You shall bring the hunting homeward."

Down a narrow pass they wandered,
Where a brooklet led them onward.
Where the trail of deer and bison
Marked the soft mud on the margin,
Till they found all further passage
Shut against them, barred securely
By the trunks of trees uprooted.
Lying lengthwise, lying crosswise,
And forbidding further passage.

" We must go back," said the old man,
" O'er these logs we cannot clamber ;
Not a woodchuck could get through them.
Not a squirrel clamber o'er them ! "
And straightway his pipe he lighted,

rilE SONG OF III A WAT II A

161

Ian,

jm.

And sat down to Hinuku and poiidor.
But before his pipe wuh iinished,
Lo ! the path was (deared before hlui ;
All the trunks had Kwasind lifttul,
To the right hand, to the h>ft hand,
Shot the i)ine-tree8 swift as arrows,
Hurled the ctedars light as lances.

" Lazy Kwasind ! " said the young men,
As they 8j)orted in the meadow :
Why stand idly looking at us,
Leaning on the rock behind you ?
Come and wrestle with the others.
Let us pitch the quoit together I "

Lazy Kwasind made no answer.
To ti.eir challenge made no answer,
Only rose, and slowly turning,
Seized the huge rock in his fingers,
Tore it from its deep foundation,
Poised it in the air a moment.
Pitched it sheer into the river,
Sheer into the swift Pauwating,
Where it still is seen in Summer.

Once as down that foaming river,
Down the rapids of Pauwating,
Kwasind sailed with his companions.
In the stream he saw a beaver,
Saw Ahmeek, the King of Beavers,
Struggling with the rushing currents.
Rising, sinking in the water.

Without speaking, without pausing,
Kwasind leaped into the river.
Plunged beneath the bubbling surface,
Through the whirlpools chased the beaver,

V H

162 THE SONG OF HIAWATHA

Followed him among the islands,
Stayed so long beneath the water,
That his terrified companions
Ciied, " Alas I good-by to Kwasind I
We shall never more see Kwasind ! "
But he reappeared triumphant,
And upon his shining shoulders
Brought the beaver, dead and dripping.
Brought the King of all the Beavers.
And these two, as I have told you,
Wei'e the friends of Hiawatha,
Chibiabos, the musician.
And the very strong man, Kwasind.
Long they lived in peace together,
Spake with naked hearts together.
Pondering much and much contriving
How the tribes of men might prosper.

VII.

hiawat/ia's sailing.

" Give me of your bark, O Birch-tree !
Of ^our yellow bark, O Birch-tree !
Growing by the rushing river.
Tall and stately in the valley !
I a light canoe will build me.
Build a swift Cheemaun for sailing.
That shall float upon the river.
Like a yellow leaf in Autumn,
Like a yellow water-lily !

" Lay aside your cloak, O Birch-tree I
Lay aside your white-skin wrapper.

THE SONG OF HIAWATHA

163

For the Summer-time is coming,
And the sun is warm in heaven,
And you need no white-skin wrapper ! "

Thus aloud cried Hiawatha
In the solitary forest,
By the rushing Taquamenaw,
When the birds were singing gayly,
In the Moon of Leaves were singing,
And the sun, from sleep awaking.
Started up and said, " Behold me !
Geezis, the great Sun, behold me ! "

And the tree wirh all its branches
Rustled in the brei'ze of morning,
Saying, with a sigh of patience,
" Take my cloak, O Hiawatha ! "

With his knife the tree he girdled ;
Just beneath its lowest branches,
Just above the roots, he cut it.
Till the sap came oozing outward ;
Down the trunk, from top to bottom,
Sheer he cleft the bark asunder.
With a wooden wedge he raised it.
Stripped it from the trunk unbroken.

" Give me of your boughs, O Cedar I
Of your strong and pliant branches.
My canoe to make more steady.
Make more strong and firm beneath me 1

Through the summit of the Cedar
Went a sound, a cry of horror.
Went a murmur of resistance ;
But it whispered, bending downward,
" Take my boughs, O Hiawatha ! "

Down he hewed the boughs of cedar,

>»

■'? p

164

THE SONG OF HIAWATHA

Shaped them straightway to a frame-work,
Like two bows he foriaed and shaped them.
Like two bended bows together.

" Give me of your roots, O Tamarack I
Of your fibrous roots, O Larch-tree !
My canoe to bind together.
So to bind the ends together
That the water may not entei.
That the river may not wet me I "

And the Larch, with all its fibres,
Shivered in the air of morning.
Touched his forehead with its tassels.
Said, with one long sigh of sorrow,
" Take them all, O Hiawatha I "

From the earth he tore the fibres.
Tore the tough roots of the Larch-tree,
Closely sewed the bark together.
Bound it closely to the frame-work.

" Give me of your balm, O Fir-tree i
Of your balsam and your resin.
So to close the seams together
That the water may not enter.
That the river may not wet me I "

And the Fir-tree, tall and sombre,
Sobbed through all its robes of darkness,
Rattled like a shore with pebbles,
Answered wailing, answered weeping,
" Take my balm, O Hiawatha ! "

And he took the tears of balsam,
Took the rosin of the Fir-tree,
Smeared therewith each seam and fissure.
Made each crevice safe from water.

" Give me of your quills, O Hedgehog !

Pac
For
Am

^»t^ SONO OF HIAWATHA

Andtwosterstodeckherboaomt"
From a hoUow tree the Hedgehog

Stemed them red and blue ^d yellow

InfnV ^""^ "* ""*» »•"' berries
^to h., eanoe he wrought them '
«ound Its waost a shining sirdip

i S"^ J^"-^ --splendent.
T„ \t ,. "*•' ^^noe was builded
In the valley, by the river, ^

A J''f,'~f'^-°f deforest;
And the forest's life was in it,
AU.temyste^ and ib magic,

A^ the lightness of the biiih tree
AU the toughness of the cedar •

And It floated on the river

L-fce a yellow leaf in Autumn,
I"ke a yeUow water.%.

165

t^n-

166 THE SOMG OF HIAWATHA

Swift or slow at will ho glided,
Veered to right or left at pleasure.

Then ho called aloud to Kwasind,
To his friend, the strong man, Kwasind,
Saying, " Help me clear this river
Of its sunken logs and sand-bars."

Straight into the river Kwasind
Plunged as if he were an otter,
Dived as if he were a beaver,
Stood up to his waist in water.
To his arm-pits in the river.
Swam and shouted in the river.
Tugged at sunken logs and branches.
With his hands he scooped the sand-bars,
With his feet the ooze and tangle.

And thus sailed my Hiawatha
Down the rushing Taquamenaw,
Sailed through all its bends and windings,
Sailed through all its deeps and shallows,
While his friend, the strong man, Kwasind,
Swam the deeps, the shallows waded.

Up and down the river went they.
In and out among its islands.
Cleared its bed of root and sand-bar.
Dragged the dead trees from its ch'jinrl,
Made its passage safe and certain.
Made a pathway for the people.
From its springs among the mountains,
To the waters of Pauwating,
To the bay of Taquamenaw.

•^

THE SONG OF HIAWATHA

167

VIII.

niAWATIIA 8 FISHING.

Forth upon the Gitche viumee,
On the shining Big-Sea-Water,
"With his fishing-line of cedar,
Of the twisted bark of cedar.
Forth to catch the sturgeon Nahma,
Mishe-Nahma, King of Fishes,
In his birch canoe exulting
All alone went Hiawatha.

Through the clear, transparent water
lie could see the fishes swimming
Far down in the depths below him ;
See the yellow perch, the Sahwa,
Like a sunbeam in the water.
See the Shawgashej, the craw-fish.
Like a spider on the bottom,
On the white and sandy bottom.

At the stern sat Hiawatha,
With his fis'iing-line of cedar ;
In his plumes the breeze of morning
Played as in the hemlock branches ;
On the bows, with tail erected.
Sat the squirrel, Adjidaumo ;
In his fur the breeze of morning
Flayed as in the prairie grasses.

On the white sand of the bottom
Lav the monbter Mishe-Nahma,
Lay the sturgeon, King of Fishes ;
Thi'ough his gills he breathed the water,

168

THE SONG OF HIAWATHA

With his fins he fanned and winnowed,
With his tail he swept the sand-floor.

There he lay in all his armor ;
On each sii^e a shield to guard him.
Plates of bone upon his forehead,
Down his sides and back and shoulders
Plates of bone with spines projecting !
Painted was he with his war-paints,
Stripes of yellow, red, and azure.
Spots of brown and spots of sable ;
And he lay there on the bottom,
Fanning with his fins of purple.
As above him Hiawatha
In his birch canoe came sailing,
With his fishing-line of cedar.

*' Take my bait," cried Hiawatha,
Down into the depths beneath him,

" Take my bait, O Sturgeon, Nahma !
Come up from below the water,
Let us see which is the stronger ! "
And he dropped his line of cedar
Through the clear, transparent water,
Waited vainly for an answer.
Long sat waiting for an answer,
And repeating loud and louder,

« Take my bait, O King of Fishes ! "
Quiet lay the sturgeon, Nahma,
Fanning slowly in the water.
Looking up at Hiawatha,
Listening to his call and clamor.
His unnecessary tumult.
Till he wearied of the shout: ug ;
And he said to the Kenozha,

.«■■

THE SONG OF HIAWATHA

To the pike, the Maskenozha,
" Take the bait of this rude fellow,
Break the line of Hiawatha ! "

In his fingers Hiawatha
Felt the loose line jerk and tighten ;
As he drew it in, it tugged so
That the birch canoe stood endwise,
Like a birch log in the water,
With the squirrel, Adjidaumo,
Perched and frisking on the summit.

Full of scorn was Hiawatha
When he saw the fish rise upward,
Saw the pike, the Maskenozha,
Coming nearer, nearer to him.
And he shouted through the water,
" Esa ! esa ! shame upon you !
You are but the pike, Kenozha,
You are not the fish I wanted,
Yoa are not the King of Fishes I '
Beeling downward to the bottoa.
Sank the pike in great confusion.
And the mighty sturgeon, Nahma,
Said to Ugudwash, the sun-fish.
To the bream, with scides of crimson,
" Take the bait of this gi'eat boaster.
Break the line of Hiawatha ! "

Slowly upward, wavering, gleaming,
Rose the Ugudwash, the sun-fish.
Seized the line of Hiawatha,
Swung with all his weight upon it.
Made a whirlpool in the water,
Whirled the birch canoe in circles.

169

Between lines 27 and 28. Like a white luoou in the vater,

I '

170

THE SONG OF HIAWATHA

Round and roun<l in gui-gling eddies.
Till the circles in the water
lica(;hed the far-off sandv beaches.
Till the water-flags and rushes
Nodded on the distant margins.

But when Hiawatha saw him
Slowly rising through the water,
Lifting up his disk refulgent,
Loud he shouted in derision,
Es5' ' esi I shame upon you !
Yoie ai'O Jgudwush, the sun-fish,
Yrm ;pe not the fish I wanted,
iou are '»ot the King of Fishes ! "

Slowly downward, wavering, gleaming,
Sank the Ugudwash, the sun-fish,
And again the sturgeon, Nahma,
Heard the shout of Hiawatha,
Heard his challenge of defiance.
The unnecessary tumult.
Ringing far across the water.

From the white sand of the bottom
Up he rose with angry gesture.
Quivering in each nerve and fibre.
Clashing all his plate? of armor.
Gleaming bright with all his war-paint ;
In his wrath he darted upward.
Flashing leaped into the sunshine.
Opened his great jaws, and swallowed
Both canoe and Hiawatha.

Down into that darksome cavern
Plunged the headlong Hiawatha,

Line 8. Lifting hiB great disc of whitenesB,
Line 14. Wavering downward, wliite and gluutly,

THE SONG OF HIAWATHA

As a log on some black rivor
Shoots and plu iges down the rapids,
Found himself m utler darkness,
Groped ab«'ut in helpless wonder.
Till he felt ' great Ik art beating,
Thro'ibing in that utter darkness.

And he smote it i'. nis anger,
With his fist, the heart of Nahnia,
Felt the miglity King of Fishes
S-iiUtiuer through each nerve and fibre,
Heard the water gurgle round him
As he leaped and staggered through it,
Sick at heart, and faint and weary.

Crosswise then did Hiawatha
Drag his birch-canoe for safety.
Lest from out the jaws of Naluna,
In the turmoil and confusion.
Forth lu; might be hurled and perish.
And the squirrel, Adjidaumo,
Frisked and chatted very gayly.
Toiled and tugged with Hiawatha
Till the labor was completed.

Then said Hiawatha to him,
" O my little friend, the squirrel.
Bravely have you toiled to help me ;
Take the thanks of Hiawatha,
And the name which now he gives you ;
For hereafter and forever
Boys shall call j^ou Adjidaumo,
Tail-in-air the boys shall call you ! "

And again the sturgeon, Nahma,
Gasped and quivered in the water.
Then was still, and drifted landward

171

Vt I

172

THE SONd OF HIAWATHA

Till ho grated on the pebbles,
Till the listening Hiawatha
Heard him grate \\\)o\\ the margin,
Felt him strand upon the pebbles,
Knew that Nahma, King of Fishes,
Lay there dead u])on the margin.

Then he heard a elang and flapping,
As of many wings assembling,
Heard a screaming and confusion.
As of birds of prey contending,
Saw a gleam of light above him,
Shining through the ribs of Nahma,
Saw the glittering eyes of sea-gulls.
Of Kayoslik, the sea-gidls, peering.
Gazing at him through the opening,
Heard them saying to each other,

** 'T is our brother, Hiawatha ! "

And he shouted from below them.
Cried exulting from the caverns :

** O ye sea-gulls ! O my brothers !
I have slain the sturgeon, Nahma ;
Make the rifts a little larger.
With your claws the openings widen,
Set me free from this dark prison.
And henceforward and forever
Men shall speak of your achievements,
Calling you Kayoshk, the sea-gulls.
Yes, Kayoshk, the Noble Scratchers ! "
And the wild and clamorous sea-gulls
Toiled with beak and claws together.
Made the rifts and openings wider
In thf; mighty ribs of Nahma,
And from peril and from prison.

THE SONG OF HIAWATHA

From the bo<ly of the sturgfon,
From the peril of the water,
They released my lliuwatha.

lie was standing near his wigwam,
On the margin of the water.
And ho called to old Nokomis,
Called and beckoned to Nokomis,
Pointed to the sturgeon, Nahma,
Lying lifeless on the pebbles,
With the sea-gulls feeding on him.

" I have slain the Mishe-Nahmri,
Slain the King of Fishes ! " sai<l he ;
" Look ! the sea-gulls feed upon him.
Yes, my friends Kayoshk, the sea-gulls ;
Drive them not away, Nokomis,
They have saved me from great peril
In the body of the sturgeon.
Wait until their meal is ended.
Till their craws are full with feasting.
Till they homeward fly, at sunset,
To their nests among the marshes ;
Then bring all your pots and kettles,
And make oil for us in Winter."

And she waited till the sun set.
Till the pallid moon, the Night-sun,
Rose above the tranquil water,
Till Kayoshk, the sated sea-gulls.
From their banquet rose with clamor.
And across the fiery sunset
Winged their way to far-off islands,
To their nests among the rushes.

To his sleep went Hiawatha,

Liue 3. Was released tny Hiawatha.

173

il;

174

THE SON a OF HIAWATHA

And NokomiH to her labor,
Toiling patient in the nioonli{;ht,
Till till) sun and moon changed places,
Till the sky was red with sunrise,
And Kayoshk, thf hungry sea-gulls,
Caino hack from tho reedy islands.
Clamorous for their morning banquet.

Three whole days and nights olteruate
Old Nokomis and the sca-gidls
Stripi)ed the oily flesh of Nahma,
Till the waves washed through the rib-bones,
Till tho sea-gulls came no longer.
And u})on the sands lay nothing
But the skeleton of Nalmia.

IX.

« 1

HIAWATHA AND THE PEARL-FEATHER.

On the shores of Gitche Gumee,
Of the shining Big-Sea- Water,
Stood Nokomis, the old woman,
Pointing with her finger westward,
O'er the water pointing westward,
To the purple clouds of sunset.

Fiercely the red sun descending
Burned his way along the heavens.
Set the sky on firo behind him.
As war-parties, when retreating.
Burn the prairies on their war-trail ;
And the moon, the Night-sun, eastward.
Suddenly starting from his ambush.
Followed fast those bloody footprints.

Aj
Ac
So

THE SOXG OF HI AW ATI! A

176

Followed in that fiery war-trail,
With its glare upon his features.

And Nokoniis, the old woman,
Pointing with her finger wentward,
Spake these words to Hiawatha:
" Yonder dwells tlie great Pearl-Feather,
Megissogwon, the Magician,
Manito of Wcaltii and Wampum,
Guarded by his tiery serpents,
Guarded by the black jiitch-water.
You can see his fiery serj^'nts.
The Kenabeek, the great serpents.
Coiling, playing in the water ;
You can see the black pitch-water
Stretching far away beyond them,
To the purple clouds of sunset !

" He it was who slew my father.
By his wicked wiles and cunning,
When he from the moon descended,
When he came on earth to seek me.
He, the mightiest of Magicians,
Sends the fever from the marshes,
Sends the pestilential vapors.
Sends the poisonous exhalations.
Sends the white fog from the fen-lands,
Sends disease and death among us !

" Take your bow, O Hiawatha,
Take your arrows, jasper-headed.
Take your war-club, Puggawaugun,
And your mittens, Minjekahwun,
And your birch-canoe for sailing.
And th« oil of Mishe-Nahma,
So to smear its sides, that swiftly

17G

THE SONG OF HIAWATHA

You may pass the black pitch-water ;
Slay this merciless ma^cian,
Save the people from the fever
That he breathes across the fen-lands,
And avenge my father's murder ! "

Straightway then my Hiawatha
Armed himself with all his war-gear,
Launched his birch-canoe for sailing ;
With his palm its sides he patted,
Said with glee, " Cheeraaun, my darling,
O my liirch-canoe ! leap forward.
Where you see the fiery seri)ents,
Where you see the black pitch-water ! "

Forward leaped Cheemaun exulting,
And tlie noble Hiawatha
Sang his war-song >vild and woful,
And above him the war-eagle,
The Keneu, the great war-eagle.
Master of all fowls with feathers.
Screamed and hurtled through the heavens.

Soon he reached the fiery serpents,
The Kenabeek, the great serpents,
Lying huge upon the water,
Sparkling, rippling in the water,
Lying coiled across the passage.
With their blazing crests uplifted.
Breathing fiery fogs and vai)ors,
So that none could i)ass beyond them.

But the fearless Hiawatha
Cried aloud, and spake in this wise :
" Let me pass my way, Kenabeek,
Let me go upon my journey I "
And they answered, hissing fiercely.

THE SONG OF HIAWATHA

177

With their fiery breath made answer :
" Back, go haek ! O Shaugodaya !
Back to old Nokomis, Faint-heart I "

Then the angiy Hiawatha
Raised his mighty bow of ash-tree,
Seized his arrows, jasper-headed,
Shot them fast among the serpents ;
Every twanging of the bow-str ing
Was a war-cry and a death-cry,
Every whizzing of an arrow
Was a death-song of Kenabeek.

Weltering in the bloody water,
Dead lay all the fiery serpents.
And among them Hiawatha
Ilannless sailed, and cried exulting :
" Onward, O Cheemaun, my darling I
Onward to the black i)iti^h-water ! "

Then he took the oil of Nahma,
And the bows and sides anointed,
Smeared them well with oil, that swiftly
He might pass the black pitch-water.

All night long he sailed upon it.
Sailed upon that sluggish water.
Covered with its mould of ages.
Black with rotting water-rushes.
Rank with flags and leaves of lilies.
Stagnant, lifeless, dreary, dismal,
Lightoil by the shimmering moonlight,
And by will-o'-the-wisps illumined.
Fires by ghosts of dead men kindled,
In their weary night-encamjmicnts.

All the air was wliih; with moonlight,
All the water black with shadow,

I. . •

178 THE SONG OF HIAWATHA

And around hini the Snggema,
The mosquito, sang his war-song,
And the fire-Hies, Wah-wah-taysee,
Waved their torches to mislead him ;
And the bull-frog, the Dahinda,
Thrust his head into the moonlight,
Fixed his yellow eyes ujwn him.
Sobbed and sank beneath the sui'face ;
And ancm a thousand whistles.
Answered over ail the fen-lands.
And the heron, the Shuh-shuh-gah,
Far off on the reedy margin.
Heralded the hero's coming.

Westward thus fared Hiawatha,
Toward the realm of Megissogwon,
Toward the land of the Pearl-Feather,
Till the level moon stared at him.
In his face stared pale and haggard,
Till the sun was hot behind him.
Till it burned upon his shoulders,
And before him on the upland
He couhl see the Shining Wigwam
Of the Manito of Wampum,
Of the mightiest of Magicians.

Then once more Cheemaim he patted.
To his birch-canoe said, " Onward ! "
And it stirred in all its fibres,
And with one great bound of triumph
Leaped across the water-lilies.
Leaped through tangled flags and rushes,
And upon the beach beyond them
Dry-shod landed Hiawatha.

Line 2. The moiH|uitoeii, tiaui; their war-song,

THE SONG OF HIAWATHA

179

Straight he too^- his bow of ash-tree,
On the sanvl one end he rested,
With his knee he pressed the middh',
Stretched the faitb.ful bow-string tighter,
Took an arrow, jasi)er-hejuled,
Shot it at the Shining Wigwam,
Sent it singing as a herald.
As a bearer of his message,
Of his challenge loud and lofty :
" Come forth from your lodge, Pearl-Feather I
Hiawatha waits your coming ! "

Straightway from the Shining Wigwara
Came the mighty Megissogwon,
Tall of stature, broad of shoulder,
Dark and terrible in as|)eet,
Clad from head to foot in wampum,
Armed with all his warlike weapons.
Painted like the sky of morning,
Streaked with crimson, blue, and yellow,
Crested with great eagle-feathers.
Streaming upward, streaming outward.

" Well I know you, Hiawatha I "
Cried he in a voice of thunder,
In a tone of loud derision.
" Hasten back, O Shaugodaya I
Hasten back among the women.
Back to old Nokomis, Faint-heart !
I will slay you as you stand there.
As of old I slew her father ! "

But my Hiawatha answered.
Nothing daunted, fearing nothing :
" Big words do not smite like war-clubs,

Liue 1*. Ouo eud ou the uuid be rcHteJ,

1'. ■■■

'-Si

^^^iw

180

((

r//^ SONG OF HIAWATHA

Boai«tful breatli is not a bow-striug,
Taunts arc not ho sharp as arrows,
Deeds are better things than words are,
Actions mightier than boastings ! "

Then began the greatest battle
That the sun had ever looked on,
That tho war-birds ever witnessed.
All a Summer's day it lasted,
From tho sunrise to tho sunset ;
For the shafts of Hiawatha
Harmless hit the shirt of wampum,
Harndess fell tho blows he dealt ir<
With his mittens, Minjekahwun^
Harmless fell the heavy war-elub ;
It could dash the rocks asunder,
But it could not break the meshes
Of that magic shirt of wampum.

Till at sunset Hiawatha,
lioaning on his bow of ash-troe.
Wounded, weary, and desponding,
With his mighty war-club broken.
With his mittens torn and tattered.
And three useless arrows only,
Paused to rest beneath a pine-tree.
From whose branches trailed the mobues,
And whose trunk was coated over
With the Dead-man's Moccaf<in-loather,
With the fungus wh'te and yellow.

Suddenly from the boughs above him
Sang the Mama, the woodpecker :
Aim youi arrows, Hiawatha,
At the head of Megissogwon,
Strike the tuft of hair upon it.

THE SONG OF HIAWATHA

181

At their roots the long black tresses ;
There alone can he be wounded ! "

Winged with feathers, tipped with jasper,
Swift flew Hiawatha's arrow,
Just as Megissogwon, stooj»ing,
Raised a heavy stone to throw it.
Full upon the crown it struck him,
At the roots of his long tresses,
And he reeled and staggered forward,
Plunging like a wounded bison,
Yes, like Pezhekee, tlie bison.
When the snow is on the prairie.

Swifter flow the second arrow.
In the pathway of the other,
Piercing deeper than the other,
Woiuiding sorer than the other ;
And the knees of Megissogwon
Shook like windy reeds beneath him,
Bent and trembled like the rushes.

But the third and latest arrow
Swiftest flew, and wounded sorest,
And the mighty Megissogwon
Saw the flery eyes of Pauguk,
Saw the eyes of Death glan- at him,
Heard his voice call in the darkness ;
At the feet of Hiawatha
Lifeless lay the great Pearl-Feather,
Lay the mightiest of Magicians.

Then the grateful Hiawatha
Called the Mania, the woodpecker,
From his perch among the branches
Of the melancholy pine-tree.
And, in honor of his service,

182

THE SONG OF HIAWATHA

Stained with blood the tuft of feathers
On the little head of Mama ;
Even to this day he wears it,
Wears the tuft of erimson feathers,
As a symbol of \vh service.

Then he stripped the shirt of wampum
From the back of Megissogwon,
As a trophy of the battle,
As a signal of his conquest.
On the shore he left the body,
Half on land and half in water.
In the sand his feet were buried.
And his face was in the water.
And above him, wheeled and clamored
The Keneu, the great wnr-eagle,
Sailing round in narrower circles,
Hovering nearer, nearer, nearer.

From the wigwam Hiawatha
Bore the wealth of Megissogwon,
All his wealth of skins and wampum,
Furs of bison and of beaver.
Furs of sable and of ermine.
Wampum belts and strings and pouches.
Quivers wrought with beads of wampum.
Filled with arrows, silver-headed.

Homeward then he sailed exulting.
Homeward through the black pitch-water,
Homeward through the weltering serpents.
With the trophies of the battle.
With a shout and song of triumph.

On th(^ shore stood old Nokomis,
On the sliore stood Chibiabos,
And the very strong man, Kwasind,

Spnf V "" ^''^ ^^'oni the fen Uu 1

feeiit disease aiul clo-if I. o '^"-^'"»tls,

Ever dear to r/^"'^"S^"«'"
Was H. ^^'-^watJia

He n.]^, 1 **^^"io»nb'ance

Shared it *»fii,^ 11. ^ ' *i"<^»

equally amon- thein.

"'AWATHA'S WOOING.

^^selesa eacL without fi , '"^^^^'S'
Tli..« 4.1 '"^'^'"^ the other ! "

183

11^

-i'

-If

184

THE SONG OF HIAWATHA

Said within himsolf and pondered,
Much perplexed by various feelings,
Listless, longing, hoping, fearing,
Dreaming still of Minnehaha,
Of the lovely Laughing Water,
In the land of the Dacotahs.

" Wed a maiden of your i)eople,"
Warning said the old Nokomis ;

*' Go not eastward, go not westward.
For a stranger, whom we know not !
Like a fne upon the hearth-stone
Is a neighbor's homely daughter.
Like the starlight or the moonlight
Is the handsomest of strangers ! "

Thus dissuading spake Nokomis,
And my Hiawatha answei-ed
Only this : " Dear old Nokomis,
Very pleasant is the firelight,
But I like the starlight better.
Better do I like the moonlight I "
Gravely then said old Nokomis :

" Bring not here an idle maiden,
Bring not here a useless woman,
Hands unskilful, feet unwilling ;
Bring a wife with nimble fingers.
Heart and hand that move together,
Feet that run on willing errands ! "
Smiling answered Hiawatha :

" In the land of the Dacotahs
Lives the Arrow-maker's daughter,
Minnehaha, Laughing Water,
Handsomest of all the women.
I will bring her to your wigwam,

She «hall ..„„ „p„„

B« your starlight, moonl.Vh ':,; , .

Thus ,l..,«rt>,l Hiawatha '

To the ami ..f ♦^ o.„,„tahs.
To the U,,., ^ h^„j^^^ ^

St-ulmsovor moor and ,„eadT'
Thi^ough .«ter.„i„ablo for-.tlj '

" tk his moccasins of maeic
AM^-h stride a mile ho meat r'cU..

And h.s heart outran his f„„t,eepr
And he journeyed without re,«l

Cilli« /.. °' *'""'"haha
<-aJlmg to hmi throuo'Ii n.„ -i

"H««antisthesoun^'.t """'•
" Weasant is the v„"ce th-t iT"™"™-^'

Onthe outskirts of the forests

ISo

186

THE SONG OF HIAWATHA

» '»

'Twixt the hIkuIow and the HuiiHliine,

llt'icls of fallow (leer were feeding,

Ihit they Haw not Hiawatha;

To his how ho whisptTed, " Fail not

To his arrow whispered, " Swerve not! '*

Sent it singinjjj on its errand.

To th«! red heart of the roebuek ;

Threw the deer across his shouhlep,

And sped forwivrd without pausing.

At the doorway of his wigwam
Sat the aneient Arrow-maker,
In the land of the Daeotahs,
Making arrow-heads of jasper,
Arrow-heads of chalcedony.
At his side, in all her beauty,
Sat the lovely Minnehaha,
Sat his daughter, Laughing Water,
Plaiting nuits of flags and rushes ;
Of the past the old man's thoughts were,
And the maiden's of the future.

He was thinking, as he sat there.
Of the days when with such arrows
He had struck the deer and bison,
On the Muskoday, the meadow ;
Shot the wild goose, flying southward,
On the wing, the clamorous Wawa ;
Thinking of the great war-parties.
How they came to buy his arrows.
Could not fight without his arrows.
Ah, no more such noble warriors
Could be found on earth as they were I
Now the men were all like women,
Only used their tongues for weapons 1

THE SOSG OF HIAWATHA

187

She wuM thinking of a hnntor,

From another tribe and country,

Young anil tali and very liaiulHonie,

AVIk) one morning, in the Spring-time,

Came to i>;!v her father's arrows,

Sat and rested in the wigwam,

Lingered lor g about the doorway,

Looking back as ho departed.

She had heard her father praise him,

Praise his courage and his wisilom ;

Would ho come again for arrows

To the Falls of Minnehaha?

On the mat her hands lay idle,

And her eyes were very dreamy.
Through their thoughts they heard a footstep.

Hoard a rustling in tho branches,

And with glowing cheek and forehead.

With the deer ui)on his shoulders,

Suddenly from out the woodlands

Hiawatha stood before them.
Straight the ancient Arrow-maker

Looked up gravely from his labor,

Laid aside the unfinished arrow.

Bade him enter at the doorway.

Saying, as he rose to meet him,
" Hiawatha, you are welcome ! "
At the feet of Laughing Water

Hiawatha laid his burden,

Threw tho red deer from his shoulders j

And the maiden looked up at him.

Looked up from her mat of rushes,

Said with gentle look and accent,
" You are welcome, Hiawatha ! '*

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23 WEST MAIN STREET

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(716) 872-4503

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•^

188 THE SONG OF HIAWATHA

Very spacious was the wigwam,
Made of deer-skins dressed and whitened,
With the Gods of the Dacotahs
Drawn and painted on its curtains.
And so tall the doorway, hardly
Hiawatha stooped to enter.
Hardly touched his eagle-feathers
As he entered at the doorway.

Then uprose the Laughing Water,
From the ground fair Minnehaha,
Laid aside her mat unfinished.
Brought forth food and set before them.
Water brought them from the brooklet,
Gave them food in earthen vessels,
Gave them drink in bowls of bass-wood,
Listened while the guest was speaking.
Listened while her father answered.
But not once her lips she opened.
Not a single word she uttered.

Yes, as in a dream she listened
To the words of Hiawatha,
As he talked of old Nokomis,
Who had nursed him in his childhood,
As he told of his companions,
Chibiabos, the musician,
And the very strong man, Kwasind,
And of happiness and plenty
In the land of the Ojibways,
In the pleasant land and peaceful.

" After many years of warfare.
Many years of strife and bloodshed.
There is peace between the Ojibways
And the tribe of the Dacotahs."

THE SONG OF HIAWATUA
Thus continued Hiawatha,

" That tt" ''•'''''• ^^^""^'"S^'-ly.
An? *'"7"''«'« "^y la«t forever

Minnehaha, ChtgW^ef "'
Wehestof DaeVwIe:";'..

Paused 1 """•'"" "^""^-"""ker
i-aused a moment ere he answered

Smoked alittle while in silenle
Looked at Hiawatha prouS

Jondly looked at Laughing Water
J;e3,il Minnehaha wishes:

^fWwi:S?::^-^-oa there.

As she went to Hiawatha,
^% took the seat besidL him

Of the ancient Arrow-makef,
In the land of the Dacotahs
From the wigwam he departed

HSht'dii:^--''"'^--
Au^edoorw:;:;r::;ii;^

189

190

THE SONG OF HIAWATHA

l !'■

Heard the Falls of Minnehaha
CaUing to them from the distance,
Crying to them from afar off,
" Fare thee well, O Minnehaha ! "

And the ancient Anow-maker
Turned again unto his labor,
Sat down by his sunny doorway,
Murmuring to himself, and saying :
" Thus it is our daughters leave us.
Those we love, and those who love us !
Just when they have learned to help us.
When we are old and lean upon them.
Comes a youth with flaunting feathers.
With his flute of reeds, a stranger
Wanders piping through the village.
Beckons to the fairest maiden,
And she follows where he leads her.
Leaving all things for the stranger ! "

Pleasant was the journey homeward,
Through interminable forests.
Over meadow, over mountain,
Over river, hill, and hollow.
Short it seemed to Hiawatha,
Though they journeyed very slowly,
Though his pace he checked and slackened
To the steps of Laughing Water.

Over wide and rushing rivers
In his arms he bore the maiden ;
Light he thought her as a feather.
As the plume upon his head-gear ;
Cleared the tangled pathway for her,
Bent aside the swaying branches.
Made at night a lodge of branches,

THE SONG OF HIAWATHA

191

cened

And a bed with boughs of hemlock,
And a lire before the doorway
With the dry cones of the pine-tree.

All the travelling winds went with them,
O'er the meadows, through the forest ;
All the stars of night looked at them,
Watched with sleepless eyes their slumber ;
From his ambush in the oak-tree
Peeped the squirrel, Adjidaumo,
Watched with eager eyes the lovers ;
And the rabbit, the Wabasso,
Scampered from the path before them.
Peering, peeping from his burrow,
Sat erect upon his haunches,
Watched with curious eyes the lovers.

Pleasant was the journey homeward !
All the birds sang loud and sweetly
Songs of happiness and heart's-ease ;
Sang the bluebird, the Owaissa,
"Happy are you, Hiawatha,
Having such a wife to love you ! "
Sang the robin, the Opechee,
"Happy are you. Laughing Water,
Having such a noble husband ! "

From the sky the sun benignant
Looked upon them through the branches,
Saying to them, " O my children,
Love is sunshine, hate is shadow,
Life is checkered shade and sunshine.
Rule by love, O Hiawatha ! "

i^'rom the sky the moon looked at them,
Filled the lodge with mystic splendors,

Line 22. Saug the Opechee, the robin,

192

THE SONG OF HIAWATHA

Whispered to them, " O my children,
Day is restless, night is quiet,
Man imperious, woman feeble ;
Half is mine, although I follow ;
Rule by patience. Laughing Water ! "

Thus it was they journeyed homeward ;
Thus it was that Hiawatha
To the lodge of old Nokomis
Brought the moonlight, starlight, firelight,
Brought the sunshine of his people,
Minnehaha, Laughing Water,
Handsomest of all the women
In the land of the Dacotahs,
In the land of handsome women.

XI.

Hiawatha's wedding-feast.

You shall hear how Pau-Puk-Keewis,
How the handsome Yenadizze
Danced at Hiawatha's wedding ;
How the gentle Chibiabos,
He the sweetest of musicians.
Sang his songs of love and longing ;
How lagoo, the great boaster.
He the marvellous story-teller.
Told his tales of strange adventure,
That the feast might be more joyous,
That the time might pass more gayly.
And the guests be more contented.

Sumptuous was the feast Nokomis
Made at Hiawatha's wedding ;

% ■

"""^ '^Om Of mAWATHA
All the bowls were marlp ^f u

AU the spooM of horn of bison

Bl^k and polished ve.y smooMy
hhe had sent throuffh all th. m.

Messengers .ith wandtof Jm^ "^^-

^s a sign of invitation,

As a token of the feasting •

Kobes of fur a/^d Wteof T'"''
Splendid with their it-"! T^^^'

Beautify With be:Srd'a™^««-

r,„„l,7 J " *^askenozha.
Caught and cooked by old Nok;mis •

Then on pelican they feasted, '

Pemican and buffalo marrow
Haunch of dsoi. „„j i. '

V 11 , ' ^'l '"Jmp of bison

R.^t''™"''* "'driver.

And thl ^ ^"'r ^'""^'H
And the lovely Laughing w^ter

Tast f "^f "' "'<' NokLis •
Tasted not the food before them
0% waited on the others,

Only served their guests in silence

o.f^ok<^r^[i\-rusr^^^^^^^^

m^l" ^T''' P'P«' *»>• smoking
Sd w n ^r '""^ South-land, ^

S^^ahetlnlf"'*'^'""-'

'"'' """I '«aves of fragrance.

193

194

THE SONG OF HIAWATHA

Then she said, " O Pau-Puk-Keewis,
Dance for us your merry dauces,
Dance the Beggar's Dance to please us,
That the feast may be more joyous,
That the time may pass more gayly,
And our guests be more contented ! "

Then the handsome Pau-Puk-Keewis,
He the idle Yenadizze,
He the merry mischief-maker.
Whom the people called the Storm-Fool,
Rose among the guests assembled.

Skilled was he in sports and pastimes.
In the merry dance of snow-shoes,
In the play of quoits and ball-play ;
Skilled was he in games of hazard.
In all games of skill and hazard,
Pugasaing, the Bowl and Counters,
Kuntassoo, the Game of Plum-stones.
Though the warriors called him Faint-Heart,
Called him coward, Shaugodaya,
Idler, gambler, Yenadizze,
Little heeded he their jesting.
Little cared he for their insults,
For the women and the maidens
Loved the handsome Pau-Puk-Keewis.

He was dressed in shirt of doeskin.
White and soft, and fringed with ermine.
All inwrought with beads of wampum ;
He was dressed in deer-skin leggings.
Fringed with hedgehog quills and ermine.
And in moccasins of buck-skin.
Thick with quills and beads embroidered.
On his head were plumes of swan's down,

THE SONG OF HIAWATHA

195

30l,

les,

s.
,int-Heart,

as.

b»
cmine,

rs, ^
Irmine,

Idered.
down,

On his heels were tails of foxes,
In one hand a fan of feathers,
And a pipe was in the other.

Barred with streaks of red and yellow,
Streaks of bluo and bright vermilion.
Shone the face of Pau-Puk-Keewis.
From his forehead fell his tresses,
Smooth, and parted like a woman's.
Shining bright with oil, and plaited.
Hung with braids of scented grasses,
As among the guests assembled.
To the sound of flutes and singing.
To the sound of drums and voices,
Rose the handsome Pau-Puk-Keewis,
And began his mystic dances.

First he danced a solemn measure,
Very slow in step and gesture.
In and out among the pine-trees,
Through the shadows and the sunshine,
Treading softly like a panther.
Then more swiftly and still swifter.
Whirling, spinning round in circles.
Leaping o'er the guests assembled.
Eddying round and round the wigwam.
Till the leaves went whirling with him,
Till the dust and wind together
Swept in eddies round about him.

Then along the sandy margin
Of the lake, the Big-Sea-Water,
On he sped with frenzied gestures.
Stamped upon the sand, and tossed it
Wildly in the air around him ;
Till the wind became a whirlwind.

196

THE SONG OF HI A \VA THA

Till the sand was blown and sifted
Like great snowtliifts o'er the landscape,
Heaping all the shores with Sand Dunes,
Sand Hills of the Nagow Wudjoo!

Thus the merry Pau-Puk-Keewis
Danced bis Beggar's Dance to please them,
And, returning, sat down laughing
There among the guests assifmbled,
Sat and fanned himself serenely
With his fan of turkey-feathers.

Then they said to Chibiabos,
To the friend of Hiawatha,
To the sweetest of all singers,
To the best of all musicians,
*' Sing to us, O Chibiabos !
Songs of love and songs of longing,
That the feast may be more joyous.
That the time may pass more gayly,
And our guests be more contented I "

And the gentle Chibiabos
Sang in accents sweet and tender,
Sang in tones of deep emotion,
Songs of love and songs of longing ;
Looking still at Hiawatha,
Looking at fair Laughing Water,
Sang he softly, sang in this wise :

" Onaway ! Awake, beloved !
Thou the wild-flower of the forest !
Thou the wild-bird of the prairie !
Thou with eyes so soft and fawn-like !

" If thou only lookest at me,
I am happy, I am happy,
As the lilies of the prairie,
When they feel the dew upon them !

((

J''^ ^"^Om OP JaAJrATJU

' ^^weet thy hivath is -m fl. t

In the Moon wl. ^'veiHi.^.,

3iviooiiwh(.nJeave.surefaI]u,a.
1^0(38 not all the hlood uN ^'

Si"«s with joy 2e ; T '" *^'^^^'

As the sioh no- ! 1 . ^T "^'^ "^'^»- '"«,

-in tlie pleasant Moon of ^f,.„ i .
" Wi, ^1 ^ ^navvheriies '

n J,en thou art not pleased ill ' i
Then niv Imtrt ia i P^^'iscft, beloved,

As thp .^ • • . ''''^ '"^^^ darkened
As the shining river darkens '

VVhen the clouds dron ./,o 7

" Wh«« +u . ^ '^^adows on it !

VYhen thou smilest, my beloved
Then my troubled heart ,'. I . f/'^'''
As in sunshine gleam L'^, .'^"f^^tened,

That the eold wld it, ?^ '
« o M , "laKes m rivers

omiles the ^avi^h « i ./''^^^S'

^" I lose the way of sniilmg '

O^way ! awake, beloved ' "
Ihus the gentle Chibiabos

And %o„, the great boaster, ^ •

«e the fnend of old Nokomis

397

198 Tin: SON a or uiawatua

Jeiilous of the sweet inusician,
JeulouH of the applause they gave him,
Saw ill all tiie eyes around him,
Saw in all their looks and j^esturos,
That the v/edding gut^sts assembled
Longed to hear his pleasant stories,
His immeasurable falsehoods.

Very boastful was lagoo ;
Never heard he an adventure
But himself had met a greater ;
Never any deed of daring
But himself had done a bolder ;
Never any marvellous story
But himself <!ould tell a stranger.

Would you listen to his boasting,
Would you only give him credeuee,
No one ever shot an arrow
Half so far and high as he had ;
Ever caught so many fishes,
Ever killed so many reindeer.
Ever trapped so many beaver !

None could run so fast as he coidd,
None could dive so deep as he could.
None could swim so far as he could ;
None had made so many journeys,
None had seen so many wonders,
As this wonderful lagoo.
As this marvellous story-teller !

Thus his name became a by-word
And a jest among the people ;
And whene'er a boastful hunter
Praised his own address too highly,
Or a warrior, home returning.

THE SONG OF III AW AT II A

Talked too inuoh ot his aehievomeuts,
All his hearers eried, " lagoo I
Hero 's Iaj;oo eoiii-! amonj^ us ! '*

II(! it was who carved the eradlo
Of the little Hiawatha,
Carved its framework out of linden,
Bound ii, strong with reindeer sinews ;
He it was who taught him later
How to make his bows and arrows,
How to make the bows of ash-tree,
And the arrows of the oak-tree.
So among the guests assembled
At my Hiawatha's wedding
Sat lagoo, old and ugly,
Sat the marvellous story-teller.

And they said, *' O good lagoo,
Tell us now a tale of wonder.
Tell us of some strange adventure,
That the feast may be more joyous,
That the time may pass more gayly,
And our guests be more eontented I '*

And lagoo answered straightway,
" You shall hear a tale of wonder,
You shall hear the strange adventures
Of Osseo, the Magician,
From the Evening Star descended."

190

200

THE SONG OF HIAWATHA

XII.

THE SON OF THE EVENING STAR.

Can it he the sun descending
O'er the level plain of water ?
Or the Red Swan floating, flying,
Wounded by the magic arrow,
Staining all the waves with crimson,
With the crimson of its life-blood,
Filling all the air with splendor.
With the splendor of its plumage ?

Yes ; it is the sun descending.
Sinking down into the water ;
All the sky is stained with purple.
All the water flushed with crimson I
No ; it is the Red Swan floating.
Diving down beneath the water ;
To the sky its wings are lifted.
With its blood the waves are reddened !

Over it the Star of Evening
Melts and trembles through the purple.
Hangs suspended in the twilight.
No ; it is a bead of wampum
On the robes of the Great Spirit
As he passes through the twilight,
Walks in silence through the heavens.

This with joy beheld Tagoo
And he said in haste : " Behold it !
See the sacred Star of Evening !
You shall hear a tale of wonder,
Hear the story of Osseo,
Son of the Evening Star, Osseo !

.oT.':"""""""--

SvO «'''''" ''''-•-f wit '
Only Oweenee, the younc^est '
She the wilful n„rl ti * '
She the silent T ''"^'ward,

.f.*^.^='''««' of the sister,.

M arrie" tr/h "T™'' '''»"'-'

J' v^weenee, the youno-esf
gauged and fl„„teJall h jo.ers

AU her yom,g and handsome sSs
Ofrp^l-Osseo, -'

^;^,b„t\eant!fj;:nt
V»^as the spirit of Osseo,

Star«yendernt::r;a^rr

Alts fire was in his bosom,
All ts beauty in hi3 spirit, '
All .ts mystery in his being,

And her lovers, the retecttd
Handsome men with h»I J . '

Handsome men ^th °* ''^'"P""'.

Pointed at heTirderSr^^-^f-tiers.

201

I .

r: • i

!•■ '

|! l!.

202 THE SONG OF HIAWATHA

Followed her with jest and laughter.
But she said : ' I care not for you,
Care not for your belts of wampum,
Care not for your paint and feathers,
Care not for your : jsts and laughter ;
I am happy with Osseo ! '

" Once to some great feast invited,
Through the damp and dusk of evening.
Walked together the ten sisters.
Walked together with their husbands ;
Slowly followed old Osseo,
With fair Oweenee beside him ;
All the others chatted gayly.
These two only walked in silence.

" At the western sky Osseo
Gazed intent, as if imploring.
Often stopped and gazed imploring
At the trembling Star of Evening,
At the tender Star of Woman ;
And they heard him murmur softly,

* Ahy showain nemeshin, JVosa !
Pity, pity me, my father ! '

" ' Listen ! ' said the eldest sister,

* He is praying to his father !
What a pity that the old man
Does not stumble in the pathway.
Does not break his neck by falling ! *
-And they laughed till all the forest
Rang with their unseemly laughter.

" On their pathway through the woodlands
Lay an oak, \y)j storms uprooted,
Lay the great trunk of an oak-tree.
Buried half in leaves and mosses.

™E SONG OP HUWATHA 203

Mouldering, crumhlinrr i

And Osse„:.Cherr ''"'•''<>"-•
Gave a shout, a cry of anguish

Leaped .„t„ its yawning etvoi
At one end went in an old man
Wasted wrinkled, old, and u2 •

Sand^'^ *"""« " y-"? -an,

i BUS Usseo was transfigured

T^us restored to youth and^ell.
^ut, alas for good Osseo, ^

And for Oweenee, the faithful !
ctr^!^^' '~' ^"^ '^"* transfigured

Waited, wnnkled, old, and ugly
Ajid the sisters and their husbands

Laughed until the echoing forett
Bang w,th their unseeud/la„Xr.

-£f.t:it-;-»Lr-

t I ir ^^'^^^^art, Nenemoosha
ooothed her wif], o^*^ , *""osna,

Tffl they reaeled thi l!,"'"''' f '''"''''««'.
Till thev TTa * °''^'' "^ f^a^ting,

To the tender Star of CnlTf '

At A?'' '" "''"""' '»»' in dreaminB.
At the banquet sat Osseo ; ^•

AUweremerry.au were happy,
AU were joyous but Osseo.

- $1

•i :l ■:

I l!^5

204 THE SONG OF HIAWATHA

Neither food nor drink he tasted,
Neither did he speak nor listen,
But as one bewildered sat he,
Looking dreamily and sadly,
First at Oweenee, then upward
At the gleaming sky above them.

" Then a voice was heard, a whisper,
Coming from the starry distance,
Coming from the empty vastness,
Low, and musical, and tender ;
And the voice said : ' O Osseo !
O my son, my best beloved !
Broken are the spells that bound you,
All the charms of the magician.
All the magic powers of evil ;
Come to me ; ascend, Osseo I

" * Taste the food that stands before you :
It is blessed and enchanted.
It has magic virtues in it.
It will change you to a spirit.
All your bowls and all your kettles
Shall be wood and clay no longer ;
But the bowls be changed to v/ampum.
And the kettles shall be silver ;
They shall shine like shells of scarlet.
Like the fire shall gleam and glimmer.

" 'And the women shall no longer
Bear the dreary doom of labor,
But be changed to birds, and glisten
With the beauty of the starlight.
Painted with the dusky splendors
Of the skies and clouds of evening ! '

*' What Osseo heard as whispers.

THE SONG OF HIAWATHA

205

What as words he comprehended,
Was but music to the others,
Music as of birds afar off,
Of the whippoorwill afar off.
Of the lonely Wavvonaissa
Singing in the darksome forest.

" Then the lodge began to tremble.
Straight began to shake and tremble,
And they felt it rising, rising,
Slowly through the air ascending,
From the darkness of the tree-tops
Forth into the dewy starlight.
Till it passed the topmost branches ;
And behold ! the wooden dishes
All were changed to shells of scarlet !
And behold ! the earthen kettles
All were changed to bowls of silver !
And the roof-poles of the wigwam
Were as glittering rods of silver.
And the roof of bark upon them
As the shining shards of beetles.

" Then Osseo gazed around him.
And he saw the nine fair sisters,
All the sisters and their husbands,
Changed to birds of various plumage.
Some were jays and some were magpies.
Others thrushes, others blackbirds ;
And they hopped, and sang, and twittered,
Perked and fluttered all their feathers,
Strutted in their shining plumage.
And their tails like fans unfolded.

" Only Oweenee, the youngest.
Was not changed, but sat in silence,

i ^1

r' '^

i:l

206 THE SONG OF HIAWATHA

Wasted, wrinkled, old, and ugly,
Looking sadly at the others ;
Till Osseo, gazing upward.
Gave another cry of anguish,
Such a cry as he had uttered
By the oak-tree in the forest.

" Then returned her youth and beauty,
And her soiled and tattered garments
Were transformed to robes of ermine,
And her staff became a feather.
Yes, a shining silver feather !

" And again the wigwam trembled.
Swayed and rushed through airy currents.
Through transparent cloud and vapor,
And amid celestial splendors
On the Evening Star alighted,
As a snow-flake falls on snow-flake.
As a leaf drops on a river.
As the thistle-down on water.

" Forth with cheerful words of welcome
Came the father of Osseo,
He with radiant locks of silver,
He with eyes serene and tender.
And he said : ' My son, Osseo,
Hang the cage of birds you bring there.
Hang the cage with rods of silver,
And the birds with glistening feathers,
At the doorway of my wigwam.'

" At the door he hung the bird-cage.
And they entered in and gladly
Listened to Osseo's father.
Ruler of the Star of Evening,
As he said : * O my Osseo !

THE SONG OF HIAWATHA

207

Luty,

rrents,
»or,

i^elcome

there,

lers,

3age,

I have had compassion on you,

Given you back your youth and beauty,

Into birds of various plumage

Changed your sisters and their husbands ;

Changed them thus because they mocked you

In the figure of the old man.

In that aspect sad and wrinkled,

Could not see your heart of passion,

Could not see your youth immortal ;

Only Oweenee, the faithful,

Saw your naked heart and loved you.

" * In the lodge that glimmers yonder,
In the little star that twinkles
Through the vapors, on the left hand.
Lives the envious Evil Spirit,
The Wabeno, the magician,
Who transformed you to an old man.
Take heed lest his beams fall on you,
For the rays he darts around him
Are the power of his enchantment.
Are the arrows that he uses.'

" Many years, in peace and quiet.
On the peaceful Star of Evening
Dwelt Osseo with his father ;
Many years, in song and flutter.
At the doorway of the wigwam.
Hung the cage with rods of silver.
And fair Oweenee, the faithful,
Bore a son unto Osseo,
With the beauty of his mother.
With the courage of his father.

" And the boy grew up and prospered.
And Osseo, to delight him,

- . ^ ft'

208

THE SONG OF HIAWArUA

Made him little bows and arrows,
Opened the great cage of silver,
And let loose his aunts and uncles,
All those birds with glossy feathers,
For his little son to shoot at.

" Round and round they wheeled and darted,
Filled the Evening Star with music,
With their songs of joy and freedom ;
Filled the Evening Star with splendor,
With the fluttering of their plumage ;
Till the boy, the little hunter,
Bent his bow and shot an arrow,
Shot a swift and fatal arrow,
And a bird, with shining feathers.
At his feet fell wounded sorely.

" But, O wondrous transformation !
'T was no bird he saw before him,
'T was a beautiful young woman.
With the arrow in her bosom !

" When her blood fell on the planet,
On the sacred Star of Evening,
Broken was the spell of magic.
Powerless was the strange enchantment.
And the youth, the fearless bowman.
Suddenly felt himseli descending.
Held by unseen hands, but sinking
Downward through the empty spaces.
Downward through the clouds and vapors.
Till he rested on an island.
On an island, green and grassy.
Yonder in the Big-Sea- Water.

" After him he saw descending
All the birds with shining feathers,

THE SONG OF JIIAWATHA

200

mors,

Fluttering, falling, wafted downward,
Like the painted leaves of Autumn ;
And the lodge with poles of silver,
Witii its roof like wings of beetles.
Like the shining shards of beetles,
By the winds of heaven uplifted,
Slowly sank upon the island,
Bringing back the good Osseo,
Bringing Oweenee, the faithful.

*' Then the birds, again transfigured,
Reassumed the shape of mortals,
Took their shape, but r t their stature ;
They remained as Little People,
Like the pygmies, the Puk-Wudjies,
And on pleasant nights of Summer,
When the Evening Star was shining,
Hand in hand they danced together
Oil the island's craggy headlands,
On the sand-beach low and level.

" Still their glittering lodge is seen there,
On the tranquil Summer evenings,
And upon the shore the fisher
Sometimes hears their happy voices,
Sees them dancing in the starlight ! "

When the story was completed,
When the wondrous tale was ended,
Looking round upon his listeners,
Solemnly lagoo added :
' There are great men, I have known such,
Whom their people understand not,
Whom they even make a jest of.
Scoff and jeer at in derision.
From the story of Osseo
Let us learn the fate of jesters ! "

::i

210

THE SONG OF HIAWATHA

All the wedding giiestH delighted
Listened to the niiirvellous story,
Listened laughing :ind applauding,
And they whispered to each other :
" Does ho mean himself, I wonder ?
And are we the aunts and uncles ? "

Then again sang Chibiabos,
Sang a song of love and longing,
In those accents sweet and tender,
In those tones of pensive sadness,
Sang a maiden's lamentation
For her lover, her Algonquin.

" When I think of my beloved,
Ah me I think of my beloved.
When my heart is thinking of him,
O my sweetheart, my Algonquin I

" Ah me ! when I parted from him,
Bound my neck he hung the wampum.
As a pledge, the snow-white wampum,
O my sweetheart, my Algonquin !

" I will go with you, he whispered.
Ah me ! to your native country ;
Let me go with you, he whispered,
O my sweetheart, my Algonquin I

" Far away, away, I aiis vered,
VeT-y far away, I answered.
Ah me ! is my native country,
O my sweetheart, my Algonquin I

" When I looked back to behold him,
Where we parted, to behold him,
After me he still was gazing,
O my sweetheart, my Algonquin !
By the tree he still was standing.

((

THE SONG OF II f AW A Til A

By tho fallon tree was standing,
Tliat had dropped into the water,
O my sweetheart, my Algonqnin !

" When I think of my beloved,
Ah me ! think of my beh)ved,
When my heart is thinking of him,
O my sweetheart, my Algonquin I "

Such was Hiawatha's Wedding,
Sueh the dance of Pau-Puk-Keewis,
Such the story of lagoo.
Such the songs of Chibiabos ;
Thus the wedding banquet ended.
And the wedding guests departed,
Leaving Hiawatha happy
With the night and Minnehaha.

xni.

BLESSING THE C0IINFIELD8.

Sing, O Song of Hiawatha,

Of the happy days that followed,

In the land of the Ojibways,

In the pleasant land and peaceful !

Sing the mysteries of Mondamin,

Sing the Blessing of the Cornfields !

Buried was the bloody hatchet.
Buried was the dreadful war-club.
Buried were all warlike weapons.
And the war-cry was forgotten.
There was peace among the nations ;
Unmolested roved the hunters,
Built the birch canoe for sailing.

211

. I

212

THE SONG OF HIAWATHA

Caught tho fish in hike and i-ivor,
Shot tiiu ilecr and trappud tlu; bouvcr ;
Unniulfstcd wurked thu women,
Made their HUgar from the maple,
Gathered wild rico in the meadowH,
Dressed the skins of doer and beaver.

All around the ha])py village
Stood the maize-fields, green and shining,
"Waved the green jdumes of Mondamin,
Waved his soft and sunny tresses.
Filling all the hind with plenty.
'T was the women who in Spring-time
Planted the broad fields and fruitful,
Buried in the earth Mondamin ;
'T was the women who in Autumn
Stripped the yellow husks of harvest.
Stripped the garments from Mondamin,
Even as Hiawatha taught them.

Once, when all tho maize was planted,
Hiawatha, wise and thoughtful.
Spake and said to Minnehaha,
To his wife, the Laughing Water :
♦* You shall bless to-night the cornfields,
Draw a magic circle round them.
To protect them from destruction.
Blast of mildew, blight of insect,
Wagemin, the thief of cornfields,
Paimosaid, who steals the maize-ear !

" In the night, when all is silence,
In the night, when all is darkness,
AVhen the Spirit of Sleep, Nepahwin,
Shuts the doors of all the wigwams,
So that not an ear can hear you,

So that not a,i .,^0 oa,. „eo yo„
f '""'l'/'""' your bo.l in ,i^„

Walk around f Iw. « 1 1 •'♦

J*'7 " "'"«'« circle round thl^
feo t hat neither Wight nor JuZ
Ne. her burrowing worm „or inZot
SM pass o'er the .nagio eirel^ '

Nor the spuler. Su!.belca.,he,

T ""^ " S''ty caterpillar, ^

^mg ot all the caterpilUrs I "

satrc;:;:::r:f -fields

Kahgabgee^th'eC^rCr.
VVith his band of hUni **^®'^^'

A^the i4:^dSl™^-

Wh .1 •'""*?' '^"^^ ^i'h laughter
Wi h the,r melaneholy laught!" '

A the words of Hiawatha. '
Hear him ! " sa!^ *i.

Man, "•'^' " hear the Wise

Hear the plots of Hiawatha ! '•

Wlipn *u ^'' ^*^^^ and forest

W^^en the mournful Wa^vonaissa '

21;j

214 THE SONG OF HIAWATHA

Sorrowing sang among the hemlocks,

And the Spirit of Sleep, Nepahwin,

Shut the doors of all the wigwams,

From her bed rose Laughing Water,

Laid aside her garments wholly.

And with darkness clothed and guaided,

Unashamed and unaffrighted,

Walked securely round the cornfields,

Drew the sacred, magic circle

Of her footj^rints round the cornfields.

No one but the Midnight only
Saw her bei uty in the darkness,
No one but the Wawonaissa
Heard the panting of her bosom ;
Guskewau, the darkness, wrapped her
Closely in his sacred mantle.
So that none might see her beauty,
So that none might boast, " I saw her ! "

On the morrow, as the day dawned,
Kahgahgee, the King of Ravens,
Gathered all his black marauders.
Crows and blackbirds, jays and ravens.
Clamorous on the dusky tree-tops.
And descended, fasi and fearless.
On the fields of Hiawatha,
On the grave of the Mondamin.

" We will drag Mondamin," said they,
" From the grave where he is buried,
Spite of all the magic circles
Laughing Water draws around it,
Spite of all the sacred footprints
Minnehaha stamps upon it ! "
But the wary Hiawatha,

Wh» they meet >T"'/ '="'«'"«'

1 will teach you aU^ I ""•
That .1, .. •' '^ Jesson

■laat shall not be soon f
He l,a^ • . " 'wgotten "
«e iad r-sea hoWo ti,„ i i

To^e..o4^Ti:2tir'

Seta ng down upon the cornfield,
^^"\''7-i«> beak and S

f'or the body of Mondamin. '

And with all their craft »„^

^hat the bravest quailed with terror

«^ and left, by tens and twenties
And their wretched, lifeless bodies

215

.r. . ■

216

THE SONG OF HIAWATHA

' 'I'Mi '■

Hung aloft on poles for scarecrows
Round the consecrated cornfields,
As a signal of his vengeance,
As a warning to marauders.

Only Kahgahgee, the leader,
Kahgahgee, the King of Ravens,
He alone was spared among them
As a hostage for his people.
With his prisoner-string he bound him.
Led him captive to his wigwam,
Tied him fast with cords of elm-bark
To the ridge-pole of his wigwam.

" Kahgahgee, my raven ! " said he,
" You the leader of the robbers.
You the plotter of this mischief.
The contriver of this outrage,
I will keep you, I will hold you.
As a hostage for your people.
As a pledge of good behavior ! "

And he left him, grim and sulky.
Sitting in the morning sunshine
On the summit of the wigwam.
Croaking fiercely his displeasure.
Flapping his great sable pinions.
Vainly struggling for his freedom.
Vainly calling on his people !

Summer passed, and Shawondasee
Breathed his sighs o'er all the landscape.
From the South-land sent his ardors.
Wafted kisses warm and tender ;
And the maize-field grew and ripened.
Till it stood in all the splendor
Of its garments green and yellow.

THE SONG OF HIAWATHA

217

lasee
Indscape,

lors,
3ned,

Of its tassels and its plumage,
And the maize-ears full and shining
Gleamed from bursting sheaths of verdure.

Then Nokomis, the old woman,
Spake, and said to Minnehaha :
" 'T is the Moon when leaves are falling ;
All the wild rice has been gathered.
And the maize is ripe and ready ;
Let us gather in the harvest,
Let us wrestle with Mondamin,
Strip him of his plumes and tassels,
Of his garments green and yellow ! "

And the merry Laughing Water
"Went rejoicing from the Wigwam,
With Nokomis, old and wrinkled,
And they called the women round them,
Called the young men and the maidens.
To the harvest of the cornfields,
To the husking of the maize-ear.

On the border of the forest.
Underneath the fragrant pine-trees.
Sat the old men and the warriors
Smoking in the pleasant shadow.
In uninterrupted silence
Looked they at the gamesome labor
Of the young men and the women ;
Listened to their noisy talking.
To their laughter and their singing,
Heard them chattering like the magpies.
Heard them laughing like the blue-jays.
Heard them singing like the robins.

And whene'er some lucky maiden
Found a red ear in the husking.

mmm

-■*■

218

((

THE SONG OF HIAWATHA

Found a maize-ear red as blood is,
Nushka ! " cried they all together,
Nushka ! you shall have a sweetheart,
You shall have a handsome husband ! "
Ugh ! " the old men all responded
From their seats beneath the pine-trees.

And whene'er a youth or maiden
Found a crooked ear in husking.
Found a maize-ear in the husking
Blighted, mildewed, or misshapen,
Then they laughed and sang together.
Crept and limped about the cornfields.
Mimicked in their gait and gestures
Some old man, bent almost double.
Singing singly or together :
Wagemin, the thief of cornfields !
Paimosaid, who steals the maize-ear ! "

Till the cornfields rang with laughter.
Till from Hiawatha's wigwam
Kahgahgee, the King of Ravens,
Screamed and quivered in his anger.
And from all the neighboring tree-tops
Cawed and croaked the black marauders.
Ugh ! " the old men all responded.
From their seats beneath the p^oe-trees !

XIV.

PICTURE-WRITING.

In those days said Hiawatha,
" Lo ! how all things fade and perish !
From the memory of the old men

THE SONG OF HIAWATHA

219

»»

^es.

er,
Ids,

ar I
cighter,

;er,

je-tops
Irauders.

-trees I

bish !

Pass away the great traditions,

The achievements of the warriors,

The adventures of the hunters,

All the wisdom of the Medas,

All the craft of the Wabenos,

All the marvellous dreams and visions

Of the Jossakeeds, the Prophets !

" Great men die and are forgotten.
Wise men speak ; their words of wisdom
Perish in the ears that hear them,
Do not reach the generations
That, as yet unborn, are waiting
In the great, mysterious darkness
Of the speechless days that shall be I

" On the grave-posts of our fathers
Are no signs, no figures painted ;
Who are in those graves we know not,
Only know they are our fathers.
Of what kith they are and kindred.
From what old, ancestral Totem,
Be it Eagle, Bear, or Beaver,
They descended, this we know not.
Only know they are our fathers.

" Face to face we speak together.
But we cannot speak when absent.
Cannot send our voices from us
To the friends that dwell afar off ;
Cannot send a secret message,
But the bearer learns our secret.
May pervert it, may betray it.
May reveal it unto others."

Thus said Hiawatha, walking
In the solitary forest.

t-'

220

THE SONG OF HIAWATHA

Pondering, musing in the forest,
On the welfare of his people.

From his pouch he took his colors,
Took his paints of different colors.
On the smooth bark of a birch-tree
Painted many shapes and figures.
Wonderful and mystic figures,
And each figure had a meaning,
Each some word or thought suggested.

Gitche Manito the Mighty,
He, the Master of Life, was painted
As an egg^ with points projecting
To the four winds of the heavens.
Everywhere is the Great Spirit,
Was the meaning of this symbol.

Mitche Manito the Mighty,
He the dreadful Spirit of Evil,
As a serpent was depicted.
As Kenabeek, the great serpent.
Very crafty, very cunning.
Is the creeping Spirit of Evil,
Was the meaning of this symbol.

Life and Death he drew as circles.
Life was white, but Death was darkened ;
Sun and moon and stars he painted,
Man and beast, and fish and reptile.
Forests, mountains, lakes, and rivers.

For the earth he drew a straight line,
For the sky a bow above it ;
White the space between for daytime,
Filled with little stars for night-time ;
On the left a point for sunrise.
On the right a point for sunset.

THE SONG OF HIAWATHA

221

3d.
1

Les,
irkened ;

tie,
lers.
it line,

time,
ime;

On the top a point for noontide,
And for rain and cloudy weather
Waving lines descending from it.

Footprints pointing towards a wigwam
Were a sign of invitation.
Were a sign of guests assembling ;
Bloody hands with palms uplifted
Were a symbol of destruction.
Were a hostile sign and symbol.

All these things did Hiawatha
Show unto his wondering people.
And interpreted their meaning.
And he said : " Behold, your grave-posts
Have no mark, no sign, nor symbol.
Go and paint them all with figures ;
Each one with its household symbol.
With its own ancestral Totem ;
So that those who foUow after
May distinguish them and know them."

And they painted on the grave-posts
On the graves yet unforgotten.
Each his own ancestral Totem,
Each the symbol of his household ;
Figures of the Bear and Reindeer,
Of the Turtle, Crane, and Beaver,
Each inverted as a token
That the owner Wi\s departed.
That the chief who bore the symbol
Lay beneath in dust and ashes.

And the Jossakeeds, the Prophets,
The Wabenos, the Magicians,
And the Medicine-men, the Medas,
Painted upon bark and deer-skin

222 THE SONG OF HIAWATHA

Figures for the songs they chanted,
For each song a separate symbol,
Figures mystical and awful,
Figures strange and brightly colored ;
And each figure had its meaning.
Each some magic song suggested.

The Great Spirit, the Creator,
Flashing light through all the heaven ;
The Great Serpent, the Kenabeek,
With his bloody crest erected,
Creeping, looking into heaven ;
In the sky the sun, that listens.
And the moon eclipsed and dying ;
Owl and eagle, crane and hen-hawk.
And the cormorant, bird of magic ;
Headless men, that walk the heavens,
Bodies lying pierced with arrows.
Bloody hands of death uplifted,
Flags on graves, and great war-captains
Grasping both the earth and heaven I

Such as these the shapes they painted
On the birch-bark and the deer-skin ;
Songs of war and songs of hunting,
Songs of medicine and of magic,
All were written in these figures,
For each figure had its meaning.
Each its separate song recorded.

Nor forgotten was the Love-Song,
The most subtle of all medicines,
The most potent spell of magic,
Dangerous more than war or hunting !
Thus the Love-Song was recorded.
Symbol and interpretation.

iing

THE SONG OF HIAWATHA

First a human figure standing,
Painted in the brightest scarlet ;
'T is the lover, the musician,
And the meaning is, " My painting
Makes me powerful over others."

Then the figure seated, singing,
Playing on a drum of magic.
And the interpretation, " Listen !
'T is my voice you hear, ray singing ! "

Then the same red figure seated
In the shelter of a wigwam.
And the meaning of the symbol,
" I will come and sit beside you
In the mystery of my passion ! "

Then two figures, man and woman,
Standing hand in hand together
With their hands so clasped together
That they seemed in one united,
And the words thus represented
Are, " I see your heart within you.
And your cheeks are red with blushes ! "

Next the maiden on an island,
In the centre of an island ;
And the song this shape suggested
Was, " Though you were at a distance,
Were upon some far-off island.
Such the spell I cast upon you,
Such the magic power of passion,
I could straightway draw you to me ! "

Then the figure of the maiden
Sleeping, and the lover near her.
Whispering to her in her slumbers,

Line 18. That they seem m one united,

223

'■' I

. ■>"■ ''

I-

224

• •" flu.

THE SONG OF HIAWATHA

Saying, " Though you were far from me

In the land of Sleep and Silence,

Still the voice of love would reach you I "

And the last of all the figures
Was a heart within a circle.
Drawn within a magic circle ;
And the image had this meaning :
" Naked lies your heart before me,
To your naked heart I whisper ! "

Thus it was that Hiawatha,
In his wisdom, taught the people
All the mysteries of painting.
All the art of Picture-Writing,
On the smooth bark of tlie birch-tree,
On the white skin of the reindeer.
On the grave-posts of the village.

XV.

HIAWATHA 8 LAMENTATION.

In those da}';^ the Evil Spirits,
All the Manitos of mischief,
Fearing Hiawatha's wisdom,
And his love for Chibiabos,
Jealous of their faithful friendship.
And their noble words and actions.
Made at length a league against them,
To molest them and destroy them.

Hiawatha, wise and wary.
Often said to Chibiabos,
" O my brother ! do not leave me.
Lest the Evil Spirits harm you ! "

THE SONG OF HIAWATHA

22u

lem,

Chibiabos, young and heedless,
Laughing shook his eoal-bhick tresses,
Answered ever sweet and childlike,
" Do not fear for me, O brother I
Harm and evil come not near mo ! "

Once when Peboan, the Winter,
Roofed with ice the Big-Sea- Water,
When the snow-flakes, whirling downward,
Hissed among the withered oak-leaves.
Changed the pine-trees into wigwams,
Covered all the earth with silence, —
Armed with arrows, shod with snow-shoes.
Heeding not his brother's warning,
Fearing not the Evil Spirits,
Forth to hunt the deer with antlers
All alone went Chibiabos.
Right across the Big-Sea- Water
Sprang with speed the deer before him.
With the wind and snow he followed,
O'er the treacherous ice he followed.
Wild with all the fierce commotion
And the rapture of the hunting.

But beneath, the Evil Spirits
Lay in ambush, waiting for him.
Broke the treacherous ice beneath him,
Dragged him downward to the bottom.
Buried in the sand his body.
Unktahee, the god of water,
He the god of the Dacotahs,
Drowned him in the deep abysses
Of the lake of Gitche Gumee.

From the headlands Hiawatha
Sent forth such a wail of anguish.

226

THE SONG OF HIAWATHA

Such a fearful lamentation,

That the bison paused to listen,

And the wolves howled from the prairies,

And the thunder in the distance

Starting answered " Jiaim-wawa I "

Then his face with black he painted,
With his robe his head he covered.,
In his wigwam sat lamenting,
Seven long weeks he sat lamenting,
Uttering still this moan of sorrow : —

" He is dead, the sweet musician 1
He the sweetest of all singers I
He has gone from us forever,
He has moved a little nearer
To the Master of all music,
To the Master of all singing I
O my brother, Chibiabos ! "

And the melancholy fir-trees
Waved their dark green fans above him,
Waved their purple cones above him.
Sighing with him to console him,
Mingling with his lamentation
Their complaining, their lamenting.

Came the Spring, and all the forest
Looked in vain for Chibiabos ;
Sighed the rivulet, Sebowisha,
Sighed the rushes in u^e meadow.

From the tree-tops sang the bluebird.
Sang the bluebird, the Owaissa,
" Chibiabos I Chibiabos I
He is dead, the sweet musician I "

From the wigwam sang the robin.
Sang the robin, the Opechee,

Liue 33. Sang the Opechee, the robin,

THE SONG OF IlfAWATIfA

227

liries,

edf

ve hixUt

mm,

ttg.
iorest

luebird,

jin.

"Chibiabos! Chibiabo^ !
Ho is (load, the swretost Hingcr I "

And at night through all tho forest
Went tile whi{)poorwill complaining,
Wailing went the Wawonaissa,

"ChibiabosI Chibiaboa I
He is (lead, tho sweet musieian !
lie tho Hweetest of all singers ! "

Then the medieine-nicn, the Modas,
Tho magicians, tho Wabenos,
And the Jos^!akeeds, the Prophets,
Came to visit Hiawatha ;
Built a Sacred Ijodge beside him,
To appease him, to console him,
Walked in silent, grave procession.
Bearing each a pouch of healing,
Skin of beaver, lynx, or otter,
Filled with magic roots and simples.
Filled with very potent medicines.

When he heard their steps approaching,
Hiawatha ceased lamenting,
Called no more on Chibiabos ;
Naught he questioned, naught he answered,
But his mournful head uncovered.
From his face the mourning colors
Washed he slowly and in silence,
Slowly and in silence followed
Onward to the Sacred Wigwam.

There a magic drink they gave him,
Made of Nahma-wusk, the spearmint.
And Wabeno-wusk, the yarrow,
Roots of power, and herbs of healing ;
Beat their drums, and shook their rattles ;

bin,

228

THE SONG OF HIAWATHA

;'■;«<? >i

r-m

Chanted singly and in chorus,
Mystic songs like these, they chanted.

" I myself, myself ! behold me !
'T is the great Gray Eagle talking ;
Come, ye white crows, come and hear him !
The loud-speaking thunder helps me ;
All the unseen spirits help me ;
I can hear their voices calling.
All around the sky I hear them !
I can blow you strong, my brotlier,
I can heal you, Hiawatha ! "

" Ili-au-ha ! " replied the chorus,
" Way-ha-way ! " the mystic chorus.

" Friends of mine are all the serpents !
Hear me shake my skin of hen-hawk !
Mahng, the white loon, I can kill him ;
I can shoot your heart and kill it !
I can blow you strong, my brother,
I can heal you, Hiawatha ! "

" Hi-au-ha ! " replied the chorus.
" Way-ha-way ! " the mystic chorus.

" I myself, myself ! the prophet !
When I sjDeak the wigwam trembles,
Shakes the Sacred Ijodge with terror.
Hands unseen begin to shake it !
When I walk, the sky I tread on
Bends and makes a noise beneath me !
I can blow you strong, my brother !
Rise and speak, O Hiawatha ! "

" Hi-au-ha ! " replied the chorus,
" Way-ha-way ! " the mystic chorus.

Then they shook their medicine-pouches
O'er the head of Hiawatha,

THE SONG OF HIAWATHA

229

" •

es,
Irror,

-poucbes

Danced their medicine-dance around him ;
And upstarting wild and haggard,
Like a man from dreams awakened,
He was healed of all his madness.
As the clouds are swept from heaven,
Straightway from his brain departed
All his moody melancholy ;
As the ice is swept from rivers.
Straightway from his heart departed
All his sorrow and affliction.

Then they summoned Chibiabos
From his grave beneath the waters.
From the sands of Gitche Gumee
Summoned Hiawatha's brother.
And so mighty was the magic
Of that cry and invocation,
That he heard it as he lay there
Underneath the Big-Sea- Water ;
From the sand he rose and listened,
Heard the music and the singing,
Came, obedient, to the summons,
To the doorway of the wigwam.
But to enter they forbade him.

Through a chink a coal they gave him.
Through the door a burning fire-brand ;
Ruler in the Laud of Spirits,
Ruler o'er the dead, they made him.
Telling him a fire to kindle
For all those that died thereafter.
Camp-fires for thtir night encampments
On their solitary journey
To the kingdom of Ponemah,
To the land of the Hereafter.

'; ::!'■■

230 THE SONG OF HIAWATHA

From the village of his childhood,
From the homes of those who knew him,
Passing silent through the forest,
Like a smoke-wreath wafted sideways,
Slowly vanished Chibiabos !
Where he passed, the branches moved not.
Where he trod, the grasses bent not.
And the fallen leaves of last year
Made no sound beneath his footsteps.

Four whole days he journeyed onward
Down the pathway of the dead men ;
On the dead-man's strawberry feasted,
Crossed the melancholy river.
On the swinging log be crossed it.
Came unto the Lake of Silver,
In the Stone Canoe was carried
To the Islands of the Blessed,
To the land of ghosts and shadows.

On that journey, moving slowly.
Many weary spirits saw he.
Panting under heavy burdens.
Laden with war-clubs, bows and arrows.
Robes of fur, and pots and kettles.
And with food that frierids had given
For that solitary journey.

" Ay ! why do the living," said they,
" Lay such heavy burdens on us !
Better were it to go naked.
Better were it to go fasting.
Than to bear such heavy burdens
On our long and weary journey ! "

Forth then issued Hiawatha,
Wandered eastward, wandered westward.

THE SONG OF HIAWATHA

Teaching men the use of simples

And the antidotes for poisons,

And the cure of all diseases.

Thus was first made known to mortals

All the mystery of Medamin,

All the sacred art of healing.

231

XVI.

?es

,tward,

PAU-PUK-KEEWIS.

You shall hear how Pau-Puk-Keewis
He, the handsome Yenadizze,
Whom the people called the Storm-Fool,
Vexed the village with disturbance ;
You shall hear of all his mischief.
And his flight from Hiawatha,
And his wondrous transmigrations,
And the end of his adventures.

On the shores of Gitche Gumee,
On the dunes of Nagow Wudjoo,
By the shining Big-Sea-Water
Stood the lodge of Pau-Puk-Keewis.
It was he who in his frenzy
Whirled these drifting sands together,
On the dunes of Nagow Wudjoo,
When, among the guests acsembled,
He so merrily and madly
Danced at Hiawatha's wedding,
Danced the Beggar*s Dance to please them.

Now, in search of new adventures.
From his lodge went Pau-Puk-Keewis,
Came with speed into the village.

pi' t ■

232

THE SONG OF HIAWATHA

rxf:

Found the young men all assembled
In the lodge of old lagoo,
Listening to his monstrous stories,
To his wonderful adventures.

He was telling them the story
Of Ojeeg, the Summer-Maker,
How he made a hole in heaven.
How he climbed up into heaven,
And let out the summer-weather,
The perpetual, pleasant Summer ;
How the Otter first essayed it ;
How the Beaver, Lynx, and Badger
Tried in turn the great achievement.
From the summit of the mountain
Smote their fists against the heavens,
Smote against the sky their foreheads.
Cracked the sky, but could not break it ;
How the Wolverine, uprising.
Made him ready for the encounter.
Bent his knees down, like a squirrel,
Drew his arms back, like a cricket.

" Once he leaped," said old lagoo,
" Once he leaped, and lo ! above him
Bent the sky, as ice in rivers
When the waters rise beneath it ;
Twice he leaped, and lo ! above him
Cracked the sky, as ice in rivers
When the freshet is at highest !
Thrice he leaped, and lo ! above him
Broke the shattered sky asunder.
And he disappeared within it,
And Ojeeg, the Fisher Weasel,
With a bound went in behind him ! "

THE SONG OF HIAWATHA

" Hark you ! " shouted Pau-Puk-Keewis
As he entered at the doorway ;
" I am tired of all this talking,
Tired of old lagoo's stories,
Tired of Hiawatha's wisdom.
Here is something to amuse you.
Better than this endless talking."

Then from out his pouch of wolf-skin
Forth he drew, with solemn manner.
All the game of Bowl and Counters,
Pugasaing, with thirteen pieces.
White on one side were they painted,
And vermilion on the other ;
Two Kenabeeks or great serpents,
Two Ininewug or wedge-men.
One groat war-club, Pugamaugun,
And one slender fish, the Keego,
Four round pieces, Ozawabeeks,
And three Sheshebwug or ducklings.
All were made of bone and painted,
All except the Ozawabeeks ;
These were brass, on one side burnished,
And were black upon the other.

In a wooden bowl he placed them.
Shook and jostled them together,
Threw them on the ground before him.
Thus exclaiming and explaining :
" Red side up are all the pieces.
And one great Kenabeek standing
On the bright side of a brass piece.
On a burnished Ozawabeek ;
Thirteen tens and eight are counted."

Then again he shook the pieces,

233

234

THE SONG OF HIAWATHA

I \

Shook and jostled them together,
Threw them on the ground before him,
Still exclaiming and explaining :
" White are both the great Kenabeeks,
White the Ininewug, the wedge-men,
Red are all the other pieces ;
Five tens and an eight are counted."

Thus he taught the game of hazard,
Thus displayed it and explained it.
Running through its various ohances,
Various changes, various meanings :
Twenty curious eyes stared at him.
Full of eagerness stared at him.

" Many games," said old lagoo,
" Many games of skill and hazard
Have I seen in different nations.
Have I played in different countries.
He who plays with old lagoo
Must have very nimble fingers ;
Though you think yourself so skilful
I can beat you, Pau-Puk-Keewis,
I can even give you lessons
In your game of Bowl and Counters ! "

Go they sat and played together.
All the old men and the young men.
Played for dresses, weapons, wampum,
Played till midnight, played till morning.
Played until the Yenadizze,
Till the cunning Pau-Puk-Keewis,
Of their treasures had despoiled them,
Of the best of all their dresses.
Shirts of deer-skin, robes of ermine,
Belts of wampum, crests of feathers,

THE SONG OF HIAWATHA

235

rd,

js,

les.

Iftd

bers

i»

ipum,
Imorning,

themT

kine,
Ihers,

"Warlike weapons, pipes and pouches.
Twenty eyes glared wildly at him,
Like the eyes of wolves glared at him.
Said the lucky Pau-Puk-Keewis :

** In my wigwam I am lonely,
In my wanderings and adventures
I have need of a companion.
Fain would have a Meshinauwa,
An attendant and pipe-bearer.
I will venture all these winnings,
All these garments heaped about me,
All this wampum, all these feathers.
On a single throw will venture
All against the young man yonder ! "
'T was a youth of sixteen summers,
'T was a nephew of lagoo ;
Face-in-a-Mist, the people called him.

As the fire burns in a pipe-head
Dusky red beneath the ashes,
So beneath his shaggy eyebrows
Glowed the eyes of old lagoo.

" Ugh ! " he answered very fiercely ;

" Ugh I " they answered all and each one.
Seized the wooden bowl the old man,
Closely in his bony fingers
Clutched the fatal bowl, Onagon,
Shook it fiercely and with fury,
Made the pieces ring together
As he threw them down bciore him.

Red were both the great Kenabeeks,
Red the Ininewug, the wedge-men.
Red the Sheshebwug, the ducklings.
Black the four brass Ozawabeeks,

236

THE SONG OF HIAWATHA

White aloue the fish, the Keego ;
Only five the pieces counted !

Then the smiling Pau-Puk-Keewis
Shook the bowl and threw the pieces ;
Lightly in the air he tossed them,
And they fell about him scattered ;
Dark and bright the Ozawabeeks,
Red and white the other pieces,
And upright among the others
One Ininewug was standing,
Even as crafty Pau-Puk-Keewis
Stood alone among the players.
Saying, " Five tens ! mine the game is I "

Twenty eyes glared at him fiercely.
Like the eyes of wolves glared at him.
As he turned and left the wigwam.
Followed by his Meshinauwa,
By the nephew of lagoo.
By the tall and graceful stripling,
Bearing in his arms the winnings.
Shirts of deer-skin, robes of ermine.
Belts of wampum, pipes and weapons.

" Carry them," said Pau-Puk-Keewis,
Pointing with his fan of feathers,
" To my wigwam far to eastward.
On the dunes of Nagow Wudjoo I "

Hot and red with smoke and gambling
Were the eyes of Pau-Puk-Keewis
As he came forth to the freshness
Of the pleasant Summer morning.
All the birds were singing gayly.
All the streamlets flowing swiftly.
And the heart of Pau-Puk-Keewis

THE SONG OF HIAWATHA

237

aeisi

jely,

him,

ine,
pons,
eewis,

kmbling

Sang with pleasure as the birds sing,
Beat with triumph like the streamlets,
As he wandered throuj^h the village,
In the early gray of morning.
With his fan of turkey-feathers,
With his plumes and tufts of swan's down,
Till he reached the farthest wigwam.
Reached the lodge of Hiawatha.

Silent was it and deserted ;
No one met him at the doorway.
No one came to bid him welcome ;
But the birds were singing round it,
In and out and round the doorway.
Hopping, singing, fluttering, feeding,
And aloft upon the ridge-pole
Kahgahgee, the King of Ravens,
Sat with fiery eyes, and, screaming.
Flapped his wings at Pau-Puk-Keewis.

" All are gone ! the lodge is empty ! "
Thus it was spake Pau-Puk-Keewis,
In his heart resolving mischief ; —
" Gone is wary Hiawatha,
Gone the silly Laughing Water,
Gone Nokomis, the old woman,
And the lodge is left unguarded ! "

By the neck he seized the raven.
Whirled it round him like a rattle.
Like a medicine-pouch he shook it.
Strangled Kahgahgee, the raven,
From the ridge-pole of the wigwam
Left its lifeless body hanging.
As an insult to its mas ter,
As a taunt to Hiawatha.

\t'.\

)■ :*.

U I

238 THE HONG OF HIAWATHA

With a stealthy step he entered,
Round the lodge in wild disorder
Threw the household things about him»
Piled together in confusion
Bowls of wood and earthen kettles,
Kobes of buffalo and beaver,
Skins of otter, lynx, and ermine,
As an insult to Nokomis,
As a taunt to Minnehaha.

Then departed Pau-Puk-Keewis,
Whisiling, singing through the forest,
Whistliig gayly to the squirrels.
Who from hollow boughs above him
Dropped their acorn-shells upon him.
Singing gayly to the wood birds.
Who from out the leafy darkness
Answered with a song as merry.

Then he climbed the rocky headlands,
Looking o'er the Gitche Gumee,
Perched himself upon their summit,
Waiting full of mirth and mischief
The return of Hiawatha.

Stretched upon his back he lay there ;
Far below him plashed the waters,
Plashed and washed the dreamy waters ;
Far above him swam the heavens.
Swam the dizzy, dreamy heavens ;
Round him hovered, fluttered, rustled,
Hiawatha's mountain chickens,
Flock-wise swept and wheeled about him.
Almost brushed him with their pinions.

And he killed them as he lay there,
Slaughtered them by tens and twenties,

THE SONG OF III AW ATI! A

Threw their bodies down the headland,
Threw thoin on the beacli below him,
Till at length Kayoshk, the sea-gull,
Perched upon a crag above thenj,
Shouted : " It is Pau-Puk-Keewis !
He is slaying us by hundreds I
Send a message to our brother,
Tidings send to Hiawatha ! "

239

iSt,

lands,

bhere ;
iaters ;

^led,

it him,
pons.
|ere,
ities,

xvn.

THE HUNTING OF PAU-PUK-KEEWIS.

Full of wrath was Hiawatha

When he came into the village,

Found the people in confusion,

Heard of all the misdemeanors,

All the malice and the mischief.

Of the cunning Pau-Puk-Keewis.

Hard his breath came through his nostrils,

Through his teeth he buzzed and muttered

Words of anger and resentment,

Hot and humming, like a hornet.
" I will slay this Pau-Puk-Keewis,

Slay this mischief-maker I " said he.
"Not so long and wide the world is.

Not so rude and rough the way is.

That my wrath shall not attain him.

That my vengeance shall not reach him ! "
Then in swift pursuit departed

Hiawatha and the hunters

On the trail of Pau-Puk-KeewJs,

Through the forest, where he passed it,

I*' y

N- ;

240

r//£: sOiVfv of hiawatha

To tho licadliinds where ho rostod ;
But tht;y found not Pau-Puk-Keovvis,
Only in tho trainpU^d grassoH,
In th^ whoi'tlohorry-huslu'a,
Found tlio couch where ho had rested,
Found the ini})rcHs of his body.

From tho lowhmdH far beneath them,
From the Muskoday, tho meadow,
Pau-Puk-Keowis, turning backward.
Made a gesture of defiance,
Made a gesture of derision ;
And ah)ud cried Hiawatha,
From tho summit of tho mountains :
" Not so long and wide the rorld is.
Not so rude and rough the VfHy ^s,
But ray wrath shall overtake you.
And my vengeance shall attain you I "

Over rock and over river.
Thorough bush, and brake, and forest,
Ran the cunning Pau-Puk-Keewis ;
Like an antelope he bounded,
Till he came unto a streamlet
In the middle of the forest.
To a streamlet still and tranquil.
That had overflowed its margin.
To a dam made by the beavers.
To a pond of quiet water.
Where knee-deep the trees were standing.
Where the water-lilies floated.
Where the rushes waved and whispered.

On the dam stood Pau-Puk-Keewis,
On the dam of trunks and branches,
Through whose chinks the water spouted,

THE SONG OF HIAWATHA

241

banding,

Uered.

iwis,

(es,
spouted,

O'er whoso suiiiinit tlowinl tlu> Htruainlot.
From the bottom rosif the ht'uver,
Looked with two great eyes of wonder,
Eyes that seemed to ask a <iuestiou.
At the strangt^r, Pau-Piik-Keewis.

On the dam stood Pau-Puk-Keewis,
O'er his ankles flowed the streandet,
Flowed the bright and silvery water,
And he spake unto the beaver,
With a smile he spake in this wise :

" O my friend Ahmeek, tlie beaver,
Cool and pleasant is the water ;
Let me dive into the water,
Let me rest there in your lodges ;
Change me, too, into a beaver ! "

Cautiously replied the beaver.
With reserve he thus made answer ;
" Let me first eonsult the others,
Let me ask the other beavers."
Down he sank into the water,
Heavily sank he, as a stone sinks,
Down among the leaves and branches.
Brown and matted at the bottom.

On the dam stood Pau-Puk-Keewis,
O'er his ankles flowed the streamlet.
Spouted through the chinks below him,
Dashed upon the stones beneath him,
Spread serene and calm before him.
And the sunshine and the shadows
Fell in flecks and gleams upon him.
Fell in little shining patches.
Through the waving, rustling branches.

Line 2. From the bottom rose a beaver,

V*'

((

242 THE SONG OF HIAWATHA

From tlie bottom rose the beavers,
Silently above the surface
Rose one head and then another,
Till the pond seemed full of beavers,
Full of black and shining faces.

To the beavers Pau-Puk-Keewis
Spake entreating, said in this wise :
Very pleasant is your dwelling,
O my friends ! and safe from danger ;
Can you not with all your cunning,
All your wisdom and contrivance,
Change me^ too, into a beaver ? "

" Yes ! " replied Ahmeek, the beaver,
He the King of al^. the beavers,
Let yourself slide down among us,
Down into the tranquil water."

Down into the pond among them
Silently sank Pau-Puk-Keewis ;
Black became his shirt of deer-skin.
Black his moccasins and leggings,
In a broad black tail behind him
Spread his fox-tails and his fringes ;
He was changed into a beaver.

" Make me large," said Pau-Puk-Keewis,
Make me large and make me larger,
Larger than the other beavers."
Yes," the beaver chief responded.
When our lodge below you enter,
In our wigwam we will make you
Ten times larger than the others."

Thus into the clear, brown water
Silently sank Pau-Puk-Keewis :
Found the bottom covered over

THE SONG OF HIAWATHA

243

;r;

aver,

jn.

ik-Keew'is,
tev,

With the trunks of trees and branches,
Hoards of food against the winter,
Piles and heaps against the famine ;
Found the lodge with arching doorway,
Leading into spacious chambers.

Here they made him large and larger.
Made him largest of the beavers.
Ten times larger than the others.

" You shall be our ruler," said they ;

" Chief and King of all the beavers."
But not long had Pau-Puk-Keewis
Sat in state among the beavers.
When there came a voice of warning
From the watchman at his station
In the water-flags and lilies,
Saying, " Here is Hiawatha I
Hiawatha with his hunters ! "

Then they heard a cry above them,
Heard a shouting and a tramping,
Heard a crashing and a rushing,
And the water round and o'er them
Sank and sucked away in eddies,
And they knew their dam was broken.

On the lodge's roof the hunters
Leaped, and broke it all asunder ;
Streamed the sunshine through the crevice.
Sprang the beavers through the doorway,
Hid themselves in deeper water.
In the channel of the streamlet ;
But the mighty Pau-Puk-Keewis
Could not pass beneath the doorway ;
He was puffed with pride and feeding.
He was swollen like a bladder.

I > '

241 THE SONG OF HIAWATHA

Through the roof looked Hiawatha,
Cried aloud, " O Pau-Puk-Keewis !
Vain are all your craft and cunning,
Vain your manifold disguises !
Well I know you, Pau-Puk-Keewis i "
With their clubs they beat and bruised him,
Beat to death poor Pau-Puk-Keewis,
Pounded him as maize is pounded.
Till his skull was cmshed to pieces.

Six tall hunters, lithe and limber.
Bore him home on poles and branches,
Bore the body of the beaver ;
But the ghost, the Jeebi in him.
Thought and felt as Pau-Puk-Keewis,
Still lived on as Pau-Puk-Keewis.

And it fluttered, strove, and struggled.
Waving hither, waving thither.
As the curtains of a wigwam
Struggle with their thongs of deer-skin.
When the wintry wind is blowing ;
Till it drew itself together.
Till it rose up from the body.
Till it took the form and features
Of the cunning Pau-Puk-Keewis
Vanishing into the forest.

But the wary Hiawatha
Saw the figure ere it vaiiished.
Saw the form of Pau-Puk-Keewis
Glide into the soft blue shadow
Of the pine-tr(jes of the forest ;
Toward the squares of white beyond it.
Toward an opening in the forest,
Like a wind it rushed and panted,

THE SONG OF HIAWATHA

245

Bending all the boughs before it,
And behind it, as the rain comas,
C; ne the steps of Hiawatha.

To a lake with many islands
Came the brcatliless Pau-Puk-Keewis,
Where among the water-lilies
Pishnekuh, the brant, were sailing ;
Through the tufts of rushes floating.
Steering through the reedy islands.
Now their broad black beaks they lifted.
Now they plunged beneath the water.
Now they darkened in the shadow.
Now they brightened in the sunshine.
" Pishnekuh ! " cried Pau-Puk-Keewis,
" Pishnekuh ! my brothers ! " said he,
" Change me to a brant with plumage.
With a shining neck and feathers.
Make me large, and make me larger,
Ten times larger than the others."

Straightway to a brant they changed him,
With two huge and dusky pinions.
With a bosom smooth and rounded,
With a bill like two great paddles.
Made him larger than the others,
Tbn times larger than the largest.
Just as, shouting from the forest.
On the shore stood Hiawatha.

Up they rose with cry and clamor,
With a whir and beat of pinions,
Rose up from tne reedy islands,
From the water-flags and lilies.
And they said to Pau-Puk-Keewis :
" In your flying, look not downward,

246 THE SONG OF HIAWATHA

Take good heed, and look not downward,
Lest some strange mischance should happen,
Lest some great mishap befall you I "

Fast and far they fled to northward,
Fast and far through mist and sunshine.
Fed among the moors and fen-lands.
Slept among the reeds and rushes.

On the morrow as they journeyed.
Buoyed and lifted by the South-wind,
Wafted onward by the South-wind,
Blowing fresh and strong behind them,
Kose a sound of human voices,
Rose a clamor from beneath them.
From the lodges of a village,
From the people miles beneath them.

For the people of the village
Saw the flock of brant with wonder,
Saw the wings of Pau-Puk-Keewis
Flapping far up in the ether.
Broader than two doorway curtains.

Pau-Puk-Keewis heard the shouting.
Knew the voice of Pliawatha,
Knew the outcry of lagoo,
And forgetful of the warning,
Drew his neck in, and looked downward.
And the wind that blew behind him
Caught his mighty fan of feathers.
Sent him wheeling, whirling downward !

All in vain did Pau-Puk-Keewis
Struggle to regain his balance !
Whirling round and round and downward.
He beheld in turn the village
And in turn the flock above him,

vard,
happen,

rd,
tiine,

I,
id,

>
lem,

IS.

iting,

ward.

iward !

lownward,

THE SONG OF HIAWATHA 247

Saw the village coming nearor,
And the flock receding farther,
Heard the voices growing louder.
Heard the shouting and the laughter ;
Saw no more the flock above him,
Only saw the earth beneath him ;
Dead out of the empty heaven,
Dead among the shouting people.
With a heavy sound and sullen,
Fell the brant with broken pinions.

But his soul, his ghost, his shadow,
Still survived as Pau-Puk-Keewis,
Took again the form and features
Of the handsome Yenadizze,
And again went rushing onward,
Followed fast by Hiawatha,
Crying : " Not so wide the world is,
Not so long and rough the way is.
But my wrath shall overtake you.
But my vengeance shall attain you ! "

And so near he came, so near him,
That his hand was stretched to seize him.
His right hand to seize and hold him.
When the cunning Pau-Puk-Keewis
Whirled and spun about in circles.
Fanned the air into a whirlwind,
Danced the dust and leaves about him,
And amid the whirling eddies
Sprang into a hollow oak-tree,
Changed himself into a serpent.
Gliding out through root and rubbish.

With his right hand Hiawatha
Smote amain the hollow oak-tree,

248

((

THE SONG OF HIAWATHA

Rent it into shreds and splinters,
Left it lying tliere in fragments.
But in vain ; for Pau-Puk-Keewis,
Once again in human figure,
Full in sight ran on before him,
Sped away in gust and whirlwind.
On the shores of Gitche Gumee,
Westward by the Big-Sea- Water,
Came unto the rocky headlands.
To the Pictured Rocks of sandstone,
Looking over lake and landscape.

And the Old Man of the Mountain,
He the Manito of Mountains,
Opened wide his rocky doorways.
Opened wide his deep abysses.
Giving Pau-Puk-Keewis shelter
In his caverns dark and dreary.
Bidding Pau-Puk-Keewis welcome
To his gloomy lodge of sandstone.

There without stood Hiawatha,
Found the doorways closed against him,
With his mittens, Minjekahwun,
Smote great caverns in the sandstone.
Cried aloud in tones of thunder.
Open ! I am Hiawatha ! "
But the Old Man of the Mountain
Opened not, and made no answer
From the silent crags of sandstone.
From the gloomy rock abysses.

Then he raised his hands to heaven.
Called imploring on the tempest,
Called Waywassimo, the lightning,
And the thunder, Annemeekee ;

THE SONG OF HIAWATHA

249

bain,

»
stone,

un
er

me,

leaven,

|t,

ling,

And they came with night and darkness,
Sweeping down the Big-Sea-Water
From the distant Thunder Mountains ;
And the trembling Pau-Puk-Keewis
Heard the footsteps of the thunder,
Saw the red eyes of the lightning,
Was afraid, and crouched and trembled.

Then Waywassimo, the lightning,
Smote the doorways of the caverns.
With his war-club smote the doorways,
Smote the jutting crags of sandstone.
And the thunder, Annemeekee,
Shouted down into the caverns,
Saying, " Where is Pau-Puk-Keewis ! "
And the crags fell, and beneath them
Dead among the rocky ruins
Lay the cunning Pau-Puk-Keewis,
Lay the handsome Yenadizze,
Slain in his own human figure.

Ended were his wild adventures.
Ended were his tricks and gambols.
Ended all his craft and cunning.
Ended all his mischief-making.
All his gambling and his dancing.
All his wooing of the maidens.

Then the noble Hiawatha
Took his soul, his ghost, his shadow,
Spake and said : " O Pau-Puk-Keewis,
Never more in human figure
Shall you search for nev^ adventures ;
Never more with jest and laughter
Dance the dust and leaves in whirlwinds ;
But above there in the heavens

^^■:;

250

THE SONG OF HIAWATHA

You shall soar and sail ni circles ;
I will change you to an «.agle,
To Keneu, the great war- eagle,
Chief of all the fowls with feathers,
Chief of Hiawatha's chickens."

And the name of Pau-Puk-Keewis
Lingers still among the people,
Lingers still am(>ng the singers.
And among the story-tellers ;
And in Winter, when the snow-flakes
Whirl in eddies round the lodges,
When the wind in gusty tumult
O'jr tb9 smoke-flue pipes and whistles,
" There," they cry, " comes Pau-Puk-Koewis ;
He is dancing through the village,
He is gath n-ing in his harvest 1 "

it'- ;l

im:

XVIII.

THE DEATH OF KWASIND.

Far and wide among the nations
Spread the name and fame of Kwasind ;
No man dared to strive with Kwasind,
No nian could compete with Kwasind.
But the mischievous Puk-Wudjies,
They the envious Little People,
They the fairies and the pygmies.
Plotted and conspired against him.
" If this hateful Kwasind," said they,
" If this gr'^at. outrageous fellow
Goes on thus a little longer.
Tearing everything he touches,

THE SONG OF HIAWATHA

251

ces

ties,

t-Koewis ;

rasind ;

isind,

Isind.

Id they,

Rending everything to jjieces,
Filling all the world with wonder,
What becomes of the Puk-Wudjies?
Who will care for the Puk-Wudjies?
He will tread us down like mushrooms,
Drive us all into the water,
Give our bodies to be eaten
By the wicked Nee-ba-naw-baigs,
By the Spirits of the water ! "

So the angry Little People
All conspired against the Strong Man,
All conspired to murder Kwasind,
Yes, to rid the world of Kwasind,
The audacious, overbearing.
Heartless, haughty, dangerous Kwasind !

Now this wondrous strength of Kwasind
In his crown alone was seated ;
In his crown too was his weakness ;
There alone couiJ he be wounded.
Nowhere else could weapon pierce him,
Nowhere else could weapon harm him.

Even there the only weapon
That could wound him, that could slay him.
Was the seed-cone of the pine-tree.
Was the blue cone of the fir-tree.
This was Kwasind's fatal secret.
Known to no man among mortalu ;
But the cunning Little People,
The Puk-Wudjees, knew the secret,
Knew the only way to kill him.

So they gathered cones together.
Gathered seed-cones of the pine-tree,
Gathered blue cones of the fir-tree.

252

THE SONG OF HIAWATHA

In the woods by Taquamenaw,
Brought them to the river's margin,
Heaped them in grent piles together,
Whij'^e the red roclts from the margin
Jutting overhang tlio river.
There they hiy in wait for Kwasind,
The malieiouH Little People.

'T was an afternoon in Summer ;
Very hot and still the air was,
Very smooth the gliding river,
Motionless the sleeping shadows :
Insects glistened in the sunshine.
Insects skated on the water.
Filled the drowsy air with buzzing,
With a far resounding war-cry.

Down the river came the Strong Man,
In his birch canoe came Kwasind,
Floating slowly down the current
Of the sluggish Taquamenaw,
Very languid with the weather,
Very sleepy with the silence.

From the ove)'lian^,ing branches,
From the tassels ot the birch-trees,
Soft the Spirit of Sleep descended ;
By his airy hosts surrounded,
His invisible attendants,
Came the Spiriu of Sleep, Nepahwin ;
Like the burnished Dush-kwo-ne-she,
Like a dragon-fly, he hovered
O'er the drowsy head of Kwasind.

To his ear there came a murmur
As of waves upon a sea-shore.
As of far-off tumbling waters,

THE SONG OF HIAWATHA

253

Ishe,
lur

As of winds among the pine-trees ;
And he felt upon his forehead
Blows of little airy war-clubs,
Wielded by the slumbrous legions
Of the Spirit of Sleep, Nepaliwin,
As of some one breathing on him.

At the first blow of their war-elubs.
Fell a drowsiness on Kwasind ;
At the second blow they smote him.
Motionless his paddle rested ;
At the third, before his vision
Reeled the landscape into darkness.
Very sound asleep was Kwasind.

So he floated down the river,
Like a blind man seated upright,
Floated down the Taquamenaw,
Underneath the trembling birch-trees,
Underneath the wooded headlands,
Underneath the war encampment
Of the pygmies, the Puk-Wudjies.

There they stood, all armed and waiting,
Hurled the pine-cones down upon him,
Struck him on his brawny shoulders,
On his crown defenceless struck him.
" Death to Kwasind ! " was the sudden
War-cry of the Little People.

And he sideways swayed and tumbled,
Sideways fell into the river,
Plunged beneath the sluggisli water
Headlong, as an otter plunges ;
And the birch canoe, abandoned.
Drifted empty down the river,
Bottom upward swerved and drifted :
Nothing more was seen of Kwasind.

k^h

^:^

'4-"

254

THE SONG OF HI A WA Til A

But the memory of the Strong Man
Lingered long among the people,
And whenever through the forest
Raged and roared the wintry tempest,
And the branches, tossed and troubled.
Creaked and groaned and split asunder,
" Kwasind I " cried tliey ; *' that is Kwasind !
He is gathering in his fire-wood ! "

XIX.

THE 0II0ST8.

Never stoops the soaring vulture

On his quarry in the desert,

On the sick or wounded bison,

But another vulture, watching

From his high aerial look-out,

Sees the downward plunge, and follows ;

And a third pursues the second.

Coming from the invisible ether.

First a speck, and then a vulture,

Till the air is dark with pinions.

So disasters come not singly ;
But as if they watched and waited.
Scanning one another's motions,
When the first descends, the others
Follow, follow, gathering flock-wise
Bound their victim, sick and wounded.
First a shadow, then a sorrow.
Till the air is dark with anguish.

Now, o'er all the dreary North-land,
Mighty Peboan, the Winter,

THE SONG OF HIAWATHA

•255

led,
ndcr,
Cwasind '.

follows;

re.

Ited,

r'
Lbers

Iwise
rounded,

3h.
cth-land,

Breathing on tlio lakos and rivoi'H,

Into stone luid changed their waters.

From his hair he shook the snow-flakes.

Till the plains were strewn with whiteness,

One uninterrupted level,

As if, stooping, the Creator

With his hand had smoothed them over.

Through the forest, wide and wailing,
lloamed the hunter on his snow-shoes ;
In the village worked the women,
Pounded maize, or dressed the deer-skin ;
And the young men played together
On the ice the noisy ball-play,
On the plain the dance of snow-shoes.

One dark evening, after sundown,
In her wigwam Laughing Water
Sat with old Nokomis, waiting
For the steps of Hiawatha
Homeward from the hunt returning.

On their faces gleamed the fire-light.
Painting them with streaks of crimson.
In the eyes of old Nokomis
Glimmered like the watery moonlight.
In the eyes of Laughing V/ater
Glistened like the sun in water ;
And behind them crouched their shadows
In the corners of the wigwam.
And the smoke in wreaths above them
Climbed and crowded through the smoke-flue.

Then the curtain of the doorway
From without was slowly lifted ;
Brighter glowed the fire a moment.
And a moment ^werved the smoke-wreath.

266

7 HE SONG OF HIAWATHA

! k

As two women entered softly,
Passed the doorway uninvited,
Without word of salutation.
Without sign of recognition,
Sat down in the farthest corner,
Crouching low among the shadows.

From their aspect and their garments.
Strangers seemed they in the village ;
Very pale and haggard were they.
As they sat there sad and silent.
Trembling, cowering with the shadows.

Waa it the wind above the smoke-flue.
Muttering down into the wigwam ?
Was it the owl, the Koko-koho,
Hooting from the dismal forest ?
Sure a voice ^aid in the silence :
'^ These are corpses clad in garments,
These are ghosts that come to haimt you,
From the kingdom of JPonemah,
From the land of the Hereafter ! "

Homeward now came Hiawatha
From hi'' hunting in the forest.
With the snow upon his tresses.
And the red deer on his shoulders.
At the feet of Laughing Water
Down he threw his lifeless burden ;
Nobler, handsomer she thought him.
Than when first he came to woo her.
First threw down the deer before her.
As a token of his wishes,
As a promise of the future.

Then he turned and saw the strangers,
Cowering, crouching with the shadows ;

aents,

ve;

lows,
ke-flue,

its,
lunt you,

»>

rs.

en;

him,
her,
e her,

strangers,
Ihadows ;

rilE SONG OF HIAWATHA

257

Said within himself, " Who aro they ?
What strange guests has Minnehaha?"
But he questioned not the strangers,
Only spake to bid them welcome
To his lodge, his food, his fireside.

When the evening meal was ready,
And the deer had been divided.
Both the pallid guests, the strangers,
Springing from among the shadows,
Seized upon the choicest portions.
Seized the white fat of the roebuck.
Set apart for Laughing Water,
For the wife of Hiawatha ;
Without asking, without thanking.
Eagerly devoured the morsels.
Flitted back among the shadows
In the corner of the wigwam.

Not a word spake Hiawatha,
Not a motion made Nokomis,
Not a gesture Laughing Water ;
Not a change came o'er their features ;
Only Minnehaha softly
Whispered, saying, " They are famished ;
Let them do what best delights them ;
Let them eat, for they are famished."

Many a daylight dawned and darkened,
Many a night shook off the daylight
As the pine shakes off the snow-flakes
From the midnight of its branches ;
Day by day tlio guests unmoving
Silt there silent in the wigwam ;
But by night, in storm or starlight,
Forth they went into the forest,

♦'■'"1 '

258 THE SONG OF HIAWATHA

Bringing fire-wood to the wigwam,
Bringing pine-cones for the burning,
Always sad and always silent.

And whenever Hiawatha
Came from fishing or from hunting,
When the evening meal was ready.
And the food had been divided,
Gliding from their darksomt; corner.
Came the pallid guests, the strangers,
Seized upon the choicest portions
Set aside for Laughing Water,
And without rebuke or question
Flitted back among the shadows.

Never once had Hiawatha
By a word or look reproved them ;
Never once had old Nokomis
Made a gesture of impatience ;
Never once had Laughing Water
Shown resentment at the outrage.
All had they endured in silence.
That the rights of guest and stranger.
That the virtue of free-giving,
By a look might not be lessened,
By a word might not be broken.

Once at midnight Hiawatha,
Ever wakeful, ever watchful.
In the wigwam, dimly lighted
By the brands that still were burning,
By the glimmering, flickering fire-light.
Heard a sighing, oft repeated,
Heard a sobbing, as of sorrow.

From his couch rose Hiawatha,
From his shaggy hides of bison.

THE SONG OF HIAWATHA

269

Pushed aside the deer-skin curtain,
Saw the pallid guests, the shadows,
Sitting upright on their couches,
Weeping in the silent midnight.

And he said : " O guests 1 why is it
That your hearts are so afflicted,
That you sob so in the midnight ?
Has perchance the old Nokomis,
Has my wife, my Minnehaha,
Wronged or grieved you by unkindness,
Failed in hospitable duties ? "

Then the shadows ceased from weeping.
Ceased from sobbing and lamenting.
And they said, with gentle voices :
" We are ghosts of the departed.
Souls of those who once were with you.
From the realms of Chibiabos
Hither have we come to try you.
Hither have we come to warn you.

" Cries of grief and lamentation
Keach us in the Blessed Islands ;
Cries of anguish from the living.
Calling back their friends departed,
Sadden us with useless sorrow.
Therefore have we come to try you ;
No one knows us, no one heeds us.
We are but r, burden to you.
And we see that the departed
Have no place among the living.

"Think of this, O Hiawatha!
Speak of it to ail the people,
That henceforward and forever
They no more with lamentations

260 THE SONG OF HIAWATHA

Sadden the souls of the departed
In the Ishmds of the Blessed.

" Do not lay such heavy burdens
In the graves of those you bury,
Not such weight of furs and wampum^
Not such weight of pots and kettles,
For the spirits faint beneath them.
Only give them food to carry,
Only give them fire to light them.

" Four days is the spirit's journey
To the land of ghosts and shadows,
Four its lonely night encampments ;
Four times must their fires be lighted.
Therefore, when the dead are buried,
Let a fire, as night approaches.
Four times on the grave be kindled.
That the soid upon its journey
May not lack the cheerful fire-light,
May not grope about in darkness.

" Farewell, noble Hiawatha !
We have put you to the trial.
To the proof have put your patience,
By the insult of our presence.
By the outrage of our actions.
We have found you great and nob^e.
Fail not in the greater trial,
Faint not in the harder stnifrgle."

When they ceased, a sudden darkness
Fell and filled the s''ent wigwam.
Hiawatha heard a rustle
As of garments trailing by him.
Heard the curtain of the doorway
Lifted by a hand he saw not,

urn,

THE SONG OF hIAWATHA

Felt the cold breatu of the night air,
For a moment saw the stai-light ^
But he saw the ghosts no longer,
Saw no more the wandering spirits
From the kingdom of Ponemah,
From the land of the Hereafter.

261

.'it

XX.

h
bs;
hted.
ied,

ledt

jht,

mce,
[ob^e.

(darkness
m.

THE FAMINE.

Oh, the long and dreary Winter !
Oh, the cold and cruel Winter 1
Ever thicker, thicker, thicker
Froze the ice on lake and river,
Ever deeper, deeper, deeper
Fell the snow o'er all the landscape,
Fell the v'jovering snow, and drifted
Through the forest, round the Tillage.

Hardly from his buried wigwam
Could the hunter force a passage ;
With his mittens and his snow-shoes
Vainly walked he through the forest,
Sought for bird or beast and found none.
Saw no track of deer or rabbit.
In the snovv beheld no footprints.
In the ghastly, gleaming forest
Fell, and could not rise from weakness.
Perished there from cold and hunerer.

Oh the famine and the fever I
Oh the wasting of the famine !
Oh tiie blasti.ig of the fever !
Oh the wailin;; of the children !
Oh the angui.«h of the women !

l-.il

J i '

I,' W

262 THE SONG OF III A \VA Til A

All the eaith was sick and famished ;
Hungry was tho air around them,
Hungry was the sky above them,
And the hungry stars in heaven
Like the .-yes of wolves glared at them I

Into Hiawatha's wigwam
Came two other guests, as silent
As the ghosts were, and as gloomy,
Waited not to be invited,
Did not parley at the doorway.
Sat there without word of welcome
In the seat of Laughing Water ;
Looked with haggard eyes and hollow
At the face of Laughing Water.

And the foremost said : " Behold me I
I am Famine, Bukadawin I "
And the other said : " Behold me !
I am Fever, Ahkosewin ! "

And the lovely Minnehaha
Shuddered as they looked upon her.
Shuddered at tlie words they uttered,
Lay down on her bed in silence.
Hid her face, but made no answer ;
Lay there trembling, freezing, burning
At the looks they cast upon her,
At the fearful words they uttered.

Forth into the empty forest
Rushed the maddened Hiawatha;
In his heart was deadly sorrow.
In his face a stony firnmess ;
On his brow the sweat of anguish
Started, but it froze and fell not.

Wrapped in furs and a^'med for hunting,

.ed;

hem*

ollow

loldmel

lel

her,
erfcd,

rer ;
)urning

3d.

lish

)t.
for hunting,

THE SONG OF HIAWATHA

268

With his mighty bow of ash-trec,
With his quiver full of arrows,
With his mittens, Minjekahwun,
Into the vast and vacant forest
On his snow-shoes strode he forward.

" Gitche Manito, the Mighty ! "
Cried he with his face uplifted
In that bitter hour of anguish,
" Give your children food, O father I
Give us food, or we must perish I
Give me food for Minnehaha,
For my dying Minnehaha ! "

Through the far-resounding forest,
Through the forest vast and vacant
Rang that cry of desolation,
But there came no other answer
Than the echo of his crying.
Than the echo of the woodlands,
" Minnehaha ! Minnehaha I "

All day long roved Hiawatha
In that melancholy forest,
Tlirough the shadow of whose thickets.
In the pleasant days of Sununer,
Of that ne'er forgotten Summer,
lie had brought his young wife homeward
From the land of the Dacotahs ;
When the birds sang in the thickets,
And the streamlets laughtnl and glistened.
And the air was full of fragrance.
And the lovely Laughing Water
Said with voice that did not tremble,
" I will follow you, my husband ! "

In the wigwam with Nokomis,

■lii

264

THE SONG OF HIAWATHA

fif'f

With those gloomy guests, that watched her,

With the Famine and the Fever,

She was lying, the iieloved,

She the dying Minnehaha.

" Hark ! " she said ; " I hear a rushing.

Hear a roaring and a rushing,

Hear the Falls of Minnehaha

Callmg to mo from a distance ! "
" No, my child ! " said old Nokomis,
" 'T Is the night-wind in the pine-trees ! "
L ok ! " she said ; " I seQ my father

St^niimg lonely at his doorway,

B-> koning to me from his wigwam

In tl- 'md of the Dacotahs I "
*' No, my child ! " said old Nokomis,
" 'T is the smoke, that waves and beckoas ! "
" Ah ! " said she, " the eyes of Pauguk

Glare upon me in the darkness,

I can feel his icy fingers

Clasping mine amid the darkness \

Hiawatha ! Hiawatha I "
And the desolate Hiawatha,

Far away amid the forest.

Miles away among the mountains,

Heard that sudden cry of anguish.

Heard the voice of Minnehaha

Calling to him in the darkness,
" Hiawatha ! Hiawatha ! "

Over snow-fields waste and pathless.

Under snow-encumbered branches,

Homeward hurried Hiawatha,

Empty-handed, heavy-hearted.

Heard Nokomis moaning, wailing :

THE SONG OF I/IAWATHA

265

ihed her,

ushing.

368 I

beckoQs!"
Pauguk

,8'.

>b,

lathless,

Pg-

" Wahonowin ! Wahonowin I
Would that I had perished for you,
Would that I w )re dead as you are !
Wahonowin ! Y,' ahon >win ! "

And he rushed iiito the wigwam,
Sav the old Nokomis Jowly
Koci'J ng to and fro and moaning,
paw i.ns lovely Minno luha
Lying dead and cold before him,
And his bursting heart within him
V otered such a cry of anguish,
That the forest moaned and shuddered.
That the very stars in heaven
Shook and trembled with his anguish.

Then he sat down, still and speechless,
On the bed of Minnehaha,
At the feet of Laughing Water,
At those willing feet, that never
More would lightly run to meet him.
Never more would lightly follow.

With both hands his face he covered.
Seven long days and nights he sat there.
As if in a swoon he sat there,
Speecldess, motionless, unconscious
Of the daylight or the darkness.

Then they buried Minnehaha ;
In the snow a grave they made her,
In the forest deep and darksome.
Underneath the moaning hendocks ;
Clothed her in lier richest garments.
Wrapped her in her robes of ermine,
Covered her with snow, like ermine ;
Thus they buried Minnehaha.

266 THE SON a OF HIAWATHA

And at ni^Iit a Rro was lighted,
On her gruvu four times was kindled,
For her soul upon its journey
To the Islands of the iilcssed.
From his doorway llirwatha
Saw it burning in the forest,
Lighting up the gloomy hemlocks ;
From his sleepless bed uprising,
From the bed of Minnehaha,
Stood and watched it at the doorway,
That it might not be extinguished,
Might not leave her in the darkness.

" Farewell ! " said he, " Minnehaha!
Farewell, O my Laughing Water !
All my heart is buried with you.
All my thoughts go onward with you I
Come not back again to labor,
Come not back again to suffer.
Where the Famine and the Fever
Wear the heart and waste the body.
Soon my task will be completed.
Soon your footsteps I shall follow
To the Islands of the Blessed,
To the Kingdom of Ponemah,
To the land of the Hereafter 1 "

XXI.

THE WHITE MAN S FOOT.

In his lodge beside a river,
Ci:)se beside a frozen river.
Sat an old man, sad and lonely.

THE SONG OF HIAWATHA

267

White his hair was as a snow-<Irlft ;
Dull and low his firo was burning,
And tho old man shook and trembledf
Folded in his Waubewyon,
In his tattered white-skin-wrapj>or,
Hearing notliing but tho tempest
As it roared along the forest,
Seeing nothing but the snow-storm.
As it whirled and hissed and drifted.

All the coals were white with ashes,
And the fire was slowly dying,
As a young man, walking lightly,
At the open doorway entered.
Red with blood of youth his cheeks were,
Soft his eyes, as stars in Spring-time,
Bound his forehead was with grasses ;
Bound and plumed with scented grasses,
On his lips a smile of beauty,
Filling all the lodge with sunshine,
In his hand a bunch of blossoms
Filling all the ledge with sweetness.

" Ah, my son ! " exclaimed the old man,
" Happy are my eyes to see you.
Sit here on the mat beside me,
Sit here by the dying embers.
Lot us pass the night together.
Tell me of your strange adventures,
Of the lands where you have travelled ;
I will tell you of my prowess,
Of my many deeds of wonder."

From his poueh he drew his peace-pipe,
Very old and strangely fashioned ;
Made of red stone was the pipe-head.

I >

268

THE SONG OF HIAWATHA

«, •

;^f

And tho stem a rccd with foathors ;
Filled the pipe with hark of willow,
Placed a hiirning coal ui)on it,
Gave it to hin gueHt, tho Htranger,
And began to H})eak in this wise :
When I blow my breath about me,
When I breathe upon the landscape,
Motionless are all tlio rivers,
Hard as stone becomes tlie water I '*

And the young man answered, smiling
When I blow my breath about me,
When I breathe u])on the landseai)e.
Flowers spring up o'er all the meadows.
Singing, onward rush the rivers I "

" When I shake my hoary tresses,"
Said the old man darkly frowning.
All the land with snow is covered ;
All the leaves from all the branches
Fall and fade and die and wither,
For I breathe, and lo ! they are not.
From the waters and the marshes
Kiso the wild goose and the heron.
Fly away to distant regions.
For I speak, and lo ! they are not.
And where'er my footsteps wander.
All the >vild beasts of the forest
Hide themselves in holes and caverns.
And the earth becomes as flintstone ! "

" When I shake my flowing ringlets,"
Said the young man, softly laughing.
Showers of rain fall warm and welcome,
Plants lift up their heads rejoicing.
Back into their lakes and marshes

THE SONG OF IIIAWATUA

260

["
amiling :

aclows,
»»

„ »»
iBeSf

g»
d;
ihes

not.

311,

ot.
ler,

no!"
inglets,"

;liing,
welcome,

,68

Como the wild goose and the hi>ron,
Homeward hIiooIh the arrowy Hwallow,
Sing the bliu;bird and the robin,
And where'er my footutepH wander,
All the mea<Iow8 wave with blosHoms,
All the woodlands ring with musie.
All the trees are dark with foliage I "

While they spake, the night departed :
From the distant realms of Wabun,
From his shining lodge of silver,
Like a warrior robed and painted.
Came the sun, and said, '* Behold ine !
Gheezis, the great sun, behold me ! "

Then the old man's tongue was speechless
And the air grew warm and ])lea8ant,
And upon the wigwam sweetly
Sang the bluebird and the robin,
And the stream began to murmur.
And a scent of growing grasses
Through the lodge was gently wafted.

And Segwun, the youthful stranger,
More distinctly in the daylight
Saw the icy face before him ;
It was Peboan, the Winter !

From his eyes the tears were flowing,
As from melting lakes the streamlets.
And his body shrunk and dwindled
As the shouting sun ascended,
Till into the air it faded.
Till into the ground it vanished,
And the young man saw before him.
On the hearth-stone of the ^vigwam,
Whert the fire had smoked and smouldered,

'mi

270 THE SONG OF HIAWATHA

Saw the earliest flower of Spring-time,
Saw the Beauty of the Spring-time,
Saw the Miskodeed in blossom.

Thus it was that in the North-land
After that unheard-of coldness,
That intolerable Winter,
Came the Spring with all its splendor.
All its birds and all its blossoms,
./Ul its flowers and leaves and grasses.

Sailing on the wind to northward.
Flying in great flocks, like arrows.
Like huge arrows shot through heaven,
Passed the swan, the Mahnahbezee,
Speaking almost as a man sjieaks ;
And in long lines waving, bending
Like a bow-string snapped asunder.
Came the white goose, Waw-be-wawa ;
And in pairs, or singly flying,
Mahug the loon, with clangorous pinions.
The blue hc"on, the Shuh-shuh-gah,
And the grouse, the Mushkodasa.

In the thickets and the meadows
Piped the bluebird, the Owaissa,
On the summit of the lodges
Sang the robin, the Opecheo,
In the covert of the pine-trees
Cooed the pigeon, the Omemee,
And the sorrowing Hiawatha,
Speechless in his infinite sorrow,
Heard their voicxvs calling to him,
Went forth from his gloomy doorway.

Lino 25 SiuiK tho ()|)(<chnt<, tho robin,
Liue '£J. Couod tiiu Omoiuuu, the pigeon,

lor,

iCS.

iven,

>
g

awa;

, pinions,
ab,

lorway,

THE SONO OF HIAWATHA 271

Stood and gazed into the heaven,
Gazed upon the earth and waters.

From his wanderings far to eastward,
From the regions of the morning,
From the shining land of Wabun,
Homeward now returned lagoo,
The great traveller, the great boaster,
Full of new and strange adventures,
Marvels many and many wonders.

And the people of the; village
Listened to him as he told them
Of his marvellous adventures.
Laughing answered him in this wise :
" Ugh I it is indeed lagoo !
No one else beholds such wonders I "

He had seen, he said, a water
Bigger than the Big-Sea- Water,
Broader than the Gitche Gumec,
Bitter so that none could drink it I
At each other looked the warriors.
Looked the women at each other.
Smiled, and said, " It cannot be so!
Kaw ! " they said, " it cannot be sol "

O'er it, said he, o'er this water
Came a great canoe with pinions,
A canoe with wings came flying.
Bigger than a grove of pine-trees,
Taller than the tallest tree-tops !
And the old men and the women
Looked and tittered at each other ;
" Kaw ! " they said, " we don't believe it ! "

From its moutli, he said, to greet him,
Came Waywassimo, the lightning.

If'"'! "-»•'-/'''

If'. ''V-f; ''.,■:

272

r//£: 50iVG O-F HIAWATHA

Came the thunder, Annemeekee I
And the warriors and the women
Laughed aloud at poor lagoo ;

" Kaw ! " they said, " what tales you tell us ! "
In it, said he, came a people,
In the great canoe with pinions
Came, he said, a hundred warriors ;
Painted white were all their faces
And with hair their chins were covered I
And the warriors and the women
Laughed and shouted in derision,
Like the ravens on the tree-tops,
Like the crows upon the hemlocks.

"Kaw ! " they said, " what lies you tell us !
Do not think that we believe them I "

Only Hiawatha laughed not.
But he gravely spake and answered
To their jeering and their jesting :

" True is all lagoo tells us ;
I have seen it in a vision.
Seen the great canoe with pinions,
Seen the people with white faces.
Seen the coming of this bearded
People of the wooden vessel
From the regions of the morning,
From the shining ?ind of Wabun.

" Gitche Manito, the Mighty,
The Great Spirit, the Creator,
Sends them hither on his errand.
Sends them to us witli his message.
Wheresoe'er they move, before them
Swarms the stinging fly, the Ahmo,
Swarms the bee, the honey-maker ;

THE SONG OF HIAWATHA

27 a

Ithem
lino,
lev ;

Wheresoe'er they tread, beneath them
Springs a flower unknown among us.
Springs the White-man's Foot in blossom.

" Let us welcome, then, the strangers,
Hail them as our friends and brothers,
And the heart's right hand of friendship
Give them when they come to see us.
Gitche Manito, the Mighty,
Said this to me in my vision.

" I beheld, too, in that vision
All the secrets of the fuiurc.
Of the distant days tliat shall be.
I beheld the westward marches
Of the unknown, crowded nations.
All the land was full of people.
Restless, struggling, toiling, striving.
Speaking many tongues, yet feeling
But one heart-beat in their bosoms.
In the woodlands rang their axes,
Smoked their towns in all the valleys,
Over all the lakes and rivers
Hushed their great canoes of thunder.

" Then a darker, drearier vision
Passed before me, vague p.nd cloud-like ;
I beheld our nation scattered.
All forgetful of my counsels.
Weakened, warring with each otli<^r:
Saw the renmants of our people
Sweeping westward, wild and woful,
Like the cloud-rack of a tempest,
Like the withered leaves of Autumn I "

274

THE SON a OF HI AW ATI! A

XXII.

HIAWATHA 8 DKPAUTURE.

By tho shore of Git<*iie Gunice,
By tho shining Big-Sea- Water,
At the doorway of his wigwam,
In the ])leaHant Summer morning,
Hiawatha stood and waited.
All tin; air was full of freshness.
All the earth was bright and joyons,
And before him, through the sunshine.
Westward toward the neighboring forest
Passed in golden swarms the Ahmo,
Passed the bees, the honey-makers,
Burning, singing in the sunshine.

Bright above him shone the heavens.
Level sprejul the lake before him ;
From its bosom lea]>ed the sturgeon.
Sparkling, flashing in the sunshine ;
On its margin the great forest
Stood reflected in tlte water,
Every tree-top had its shadow.
Motionless beneath the water.

From tiie brow of Hiawatha
Gone was every trace of sorrow,
As the fog from off Jie water.
As the mist from off' the meadow.
With a smiU; of joy and triumph,
With a lojk of exultation.
As of one who in a vision
Sees what is to l)e, but is not,
Stood and waited Hiawatha.

THE SONG OF HIAWATHA

275

Toward the «iin his hands woro lifted,
Both the juihiiH spread out ag;iinst it,
And betwt'en the parted finj^ers
Fell the sunsliine on his features,
Flecked with li<(ht his nak»Ml shoulders,
As it falls and Hecks an oak-tree
Through the riftiid leaves an<l branches.

O'er the water floating, flying,
Soin(.'thing in the hazy distance.
Something in the mists of morning.
Loomed and lifted from the water.
Now seemed floating, now seemed Hying,
Coming nearer, nearer, nean^r.

Was it Shingebis the diver?
Or the pelican, the Shada ?
Or the heron, the 8huh-shuh-gah ?
Or the white goose, Waw-be-wawa,
With the water dripping, flashing.
From its glossy neck and feathers ?

It was neither goose nor diver,
Neither pelican nor heron,
O'er the water floating, Hying,
Through the shining mist of niorning,
Itut a birch canoe with paddles,
Rising, sinking oil the water,
Dripping, flashing in the sunshine;
And within it came a people
From th(; distant land of Wabun,
From the farthest realms of morning
C'unc the lihtck-Kobe chief, the Prophet,
ilc the Priest of Irayer, the Pale-face,
With his guides and his companions.

LiJU- 10 Woii it tku iiilicaii, (he Hlutdu '.'

V<t

|) 'A

276

THE SONO OF HIAWATHA

Ami the iioblu Hiawatha,
W ith his haiuU aloft extuiuledf
Ilekl aloft in sign of welcome,
Wait'd, full of exultation,
Till the birch canoe with paddles
Grated on the shining pebbles,
Stranded on the sandy margin.
Till the Blaek-HolH) chief, the Pale-face,
With the cross upon his bosom,
Landed on the sandy margin.

Then the joyous Hiawatha
Cried aloud and spake in this wise :
beautiful is the sun, O strangers,
AV^hen you come so far to see us I
All our town in peace awaits you,
All our doors stand open for you ;
You shall enter all our wigwams,
For the heart's right hand we give you.

" Never bloomed the earth so gayly,
Never shone the sun so brightly.
As to-day they shine and blossom
When you como so far to see us I
Never was our lake so tranquil.
Nor so free from rocks and sand-bars ;
For your birch canoe in passing
Has removed both rock and sand-bar.

" Never before had our tobacco
Such a sweet and pleasant flavor.
Never the broad loaves of our eornlields
Were ho l)oautiful to look on.
As they seen\ to us this morning,
When you come so far to see us ! "

And the Hlock-Uobo chief made answer,

•bars;
l-bav.

>rutields

le auawei

THE SONG OF HIAWATHA 277

Stp.miiiered in Km Hpecch a little,
8pt'akin[<; words yet unfamiliar :

"Peace be with you, Hiawatha,
Peace be with you and your j)eoplo,
Peace of prayer, and [wace of pardon.
Peace of Chri.st, and joy of Mary I "

Then tlie generous Hiawatha
Led the strangers to his wigwam,
Seated them on skins of bisim.
Seated them on skins of ermine,
And the careful old Nokomis
Brought them footl in bowls of bass wood,
Water brought in birchen dippers,
And the calumet, the ))eace-))ipe.
Filled and lighted for tht.'ir smoking.

All the old men of the village,
All the warriors of the nation,
All the Jossakeeds, the Prophets,
The magicians, the Wabenos,
And the medicine-men, the Medas,
Came to bid the strangers welcome ;

" It is well," they said, '■ () brothers.
That you come so far to see us ! "
In a circle round the doorway,
With their pipes they sat in silence,
Waiting to beh«»ld the strangcjvs.
Waiting to receive their message ;
Till the Hla<-k.Hobe chief, th.' Pal.sfaee,
From the wigwam camo to greet them,
Stammering in his sp(>(;eh a little.
Speaking words y«'t unfamiliar ;

" It is well,'' tht'y said, "() hrothcr,
That yo'i come so far to see us ! "

278

THE SONG OF HfAWATIIA

Then the lilaek-Itohc chief, the Prophet,
Told hiH message to the peopU;,
Tohl the purport <»f his mission,
Tohl them of the Virgin Mary,
Ami her bU'ssed Son, the Saviour,
How in distant hinds and ages
lie had lived on earth as we do ;
How ho fasted, prayed, and labored ;
How the Jews, the trihe atu'iirsed,
Mocked him, scourged him, crucified him ;
How he n^se fruui where they laid him,
Walked again with his disciples,
And ascended into heaven.

And th(^ chicifs made answer, saying :
" We have listened to your message.
We have heard your words of wisdom,
We will think on what you tell us.
It is well for us, O brothers,
That you come so far to see us ! "

Thtin they rose up and departed
Each one homeward to his wigwam,
To the young men and the women
Told the storv of the strangers
Whom the Master of lAie had sent them
From the shining land of Wabun.

Heavy with the heat and silence
Grew the afterno(m of Summer ;
With a drowsy sound the forest
Whis|H»red round the sultry wigwam,
With a sound of sl(>ep the water
Kippled on the beach below it;
From the cornfields shrill and ceaseless
Sang the grasshopper, Pah-puk-kceua ;

THE SONG OF HIAWATHA 279

And the j^ests of Hiawatha,
Weary with the heat of Summer,
Shimbered in the sultry wi<;wam.

Slowly o'er the simmorinfif landacape
Fell the evenin<;'H dusk and coolness,
And the lon<j; and level sunbeams
Shot their spears into the forest,
Breaking; thriMigh its shields of shadow.
Rushed into ea<'h secret ainbush,
Sean^hed eai'h thieket, dingle, hollow ;
Still the guests of Hiawatha
Slumbered in the sil(>nt wigw.am.

From his place rose Hiawatha,
Baxlo fai*ewell t(^ old Nokomis,
Spake in whisptrs, spake in this wise.
Did not wake the guests, that slumbered :

*' I am gvMUg, O Nokv>mi8,
On a long and d^Ntant journey,
To the |x>rt^ds of the Sunset,
To the r^^ious of the home-wind,
Of the North west- Wind, Keewaydin.
But thest^ guests I leave behind me,
Itk yrniT watch and ward I leave them ;
See that never harm comes near them,
See that never fear molests them.
Never danger nor suspicion,
Nt^ver want of food or shelter.
In the h)d^e of Hiawatha! "

Forth into the village went ho,
Tiade farewell to all the warriors.
Bade farewell to all the young men.
Spake persuading, s[)ake in this Nvise :

" I am going, O my people,

■■

280 THE SONG OF HIAWATHA

On a long and distant journoy ;
Many moons and many winters
Will have come, and will have vanished,
Kro 1 conio again to see you.
But my guests I leave behind mo ;
Listen to their words of wisdom,
Listen to the truth they tell you,
For the Master of Life has sent them
From the land of light and morning ! "

Ou th(; shore stood Hiawatha,
Turned and waved his h.md at parting ;
On the clear and luminous water
Launched his birch caiioc for sailinir.
From the pebbles of the margin
Shoved it forth into the water ;
Whispered to it, " Westward I westward !
And with speed it darted forward.

And the evening sun descending
Set tho clouds on fire with redness.
Burned the broad sky, like a prairie.
Left upon the level water
One long track and trail of splendor,
Down whose stream, as down a rivcr,
Westward, westward Hiawatha
Sailed into the fiery sunset,
Sailed into the purple va])ors,
Sailed into the dusk of evening.

And the people from the margin
Watched him floating, rising, sinking,
Till the birch canoe seemed lifted
Hi^h into that sea of splendor,
Till it sank into the vapors
Like the new moon slowly, slowly
Sinking in the purple distance.

hod,

:ting ;
ing,

estward!"
1.

irie,

^^1

rZ/iJ SONG OF HIAWATHA

281

And thoy said, " Farewell forever ! "
Said, " Farewell, O lliawatiia ! "
And the forestH, dark and lunely,
Moved through all their depths of darkncRR,
Sighed, " Farewell, O Hiawatha I "
And the waves upon the margin
Kising, rippling on the pebbles,
Sobbed, " Farewell, O Hiawatha! "
And the heron, the Shuh-shuh-gah,
From her haunts among the fendands,
Screamed, " Farewell, O Hiawatha I "

Thus departed Hiawatha,
Hiawatha the Beloved,
In the glory of the sunset,
In the purple mists of evening,
To the regions of the home-wind,
Of the Northwest-Wind, Keewaydin,
To the Islands of the Blessed,
To the kingdom of Ponemah,
To the land of the Hereafter I

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(716)872-4503

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THE COURTSHIP OF MILES STANDISH

Mil

INTRODUCTORY NOTE.

It is possible that the unmistakable success of
Hiawatha made Mr. Longfellow more ready to
occupy himself with another subject of American
life. At any rate, a few weeks after the publica-
tion of that poem one of his friends urged him to
write a poem on the Puritans and Quakers. " A
good subject for a tragedy," he remarks, and be-
gan looking over books which would give him in-
cidents. The first outcome was the beginning of
The New England Tragedies. Then he ai)pears
to have begun as an alternative, lighter work a
drama, The Courtship of Miles Standish. This
was December 2, 1856. Exactly a year later he
writes in his diary : " Soft as spring. I begin a
new poem, Priscilla, to be a kind of Puritan pas-
toral ; the subject, the courtship of Miles Standish.
This, I think, will be a better treatment of the sub-
ject than the dramatic one I wrote some time ago ; "
and the next day : " My poem is in hexameters ;
an idyl of the Old Colony times. What it will
turn out I do not know ; but it gives me pleasure
to write it ; and that I count for something."

He seems to have made a fresh start on the
poem, January 29, 1858, and then to have carried
it rapidly forward to completion, for the first draft

284 COURTSHIP OF MILES STAN DISH

was finished March 22cl, although the boi , whicli
contained besides a collection of his leeent short
poems, was not published until September. When
midway in the writing he changed the title to that
which the poem now bears, The incident of Pris-
cilla's reply, on which the story turns, was a tra-
dition, and John Alden was a maternal ancestor
of the poet. For the rest, he drew his material
from the easily accessible historical resources. Dr.
Young had published his valuable Chronicles of
the Pilgrim Fathers, and Mr. Charles Wyllis
Elliott his entertaining History of New JEiujlaml^
in which he had attempted to reconstruct the inte-
rior, household life in greater detail than had other
learned writers. Mr. Longfellow did not think it
necessary to follow the early Plymouth history with
scrupulous reference to chronology; it was suffi-
cient for him to catch the broad features of tlie
colonial life and to reproduce the spirit of the
relations existing between Plymouth and the In-
dians. The hexameter verse differs in its general
effect from that produced by the more stately form
used in Evangeline, through its greater elasticity.
A crispness of touch is gained by a more vary-
ing accent and a freer use of trochees.

rsH

K ■ -, whicli
[jent short
1'. When
tie to that
it of Pris-
was a tra-
al ancestor
js material
•urces. I)]'.
ironicles of
,rles Wyllis
w EiujIumU
uct the lute-
in had other
not think it
L history with
it was suffi-
itures of the
spirit of the

and the In-
m its general

stately form

;er elasticity.

a naore vary-

THE COURTSHIP OF MILES STANDISH

MILES STANDISH.

In the Old Colony days, in Plymouth the land of

the Pilgrims,
To and fro in a room of his simple and primitive

dwelling,
Clad in doublet and hose, and boots of Cordovan

leather,
Strode, with a martial air. Miles Standish the

Puritan Captain.
Buried in thought he seemed, with his hands be-
hind him, and pausing
Ever and anon to behold his glittering weapons of

warfare,
Hanging in shining array along the walls of the

chamber, —
Cutlass and corselet of steel, and his trusty sword

of Damascus,
Curved at the point and inscribed with its mystical

Arabic sentence,
While underneath, in a corner, were fowling-piece,

musket, and matchlock.
Short f stature he was, but strongly built and

athletic.
Broad in the shoulders, deep-chested, with muscles

and sinews of iron ;

286 COURTSHIP OF MILES STANDISH

Brown as a nut was his face, but his russet beard

was already
Flaked with patches of snow, as hedges sometimes

in November.
Near him was seated John Alden, his friend, and

household companion,
Writing with diligent speed at a table of pine by

the window ;
Fair-haired, azure-eyed, with delicate Saxon com-
plexion,
Having the dew of his youth, and the beauty

thereof, as the captives
Whom Saint Gregory saw, and exclaimed, " Not

Angles, but Angels."
Youngest of all was he of the men ^^^ho came in

the Mayflower.

Suddenly breaking the silence, the diligent scribe

interrupting.
Spake, in the pride of his heart. Miles Standish

the Captain of Plymouth.
" Look at these arms," he said, " the warlike

weapons that hang here
Burnished and bright and clean, as if for parade

or inspection !
This is the sword of Damascus I fought with in

Flanders ; this breastplate.
Well I remember the day ! once saved my life in

a skirmish ;
Here in front you can see the very dint of the

bullet
Fired point-blank at my heart by a Spanish arca-

bucero.

isct beard
sometimes
'riend, and
of pine by
saxon com-
the beauty
imed, " Not
^ho came in

iligent scribe
lies Standish
tlie warlike
f for parade
ugbt witb in
d my life in
dint of tbe
panisb arca-

COUliTSHIP OF MILES STANDISH 287

Had it not been of sheer steel, the forgotten bones

of Miles Standish
Would at this moment be mould, in their grave in

the Flemish morasses."
Thereupon answered John Alden, but looked not

up from his writing :
" Truly the breath of the Lord hath slackened the

speed of the bullet ;
He in his mercy preserved you, to be our shield

and our weapon ! "
Still the Captain continued, unheeding the words

of the stripling :
" See, how bright they are burnished, as if in an

arsenal hanging;
That is because I have done it myself, and not left

it to others.
Serve yourself, would you be well served, is an

excellent adage ;
So I take care of my arms, as you of your pens

and your inkhorn.
Than, too, there are my soldiers, my great, invin-
cible army,
Twelve men, all equipped, having each his rest and

his matchlock,
Eighteen shillings a month, together with diet and

pillage,
And, like Caesar, I know the name of each of my

soldiers ! "
This he said with a smile, that danced in his eyes,

as the sunbeams
Dance on the waves of the sea, and vanish again

in a moment.
Alden laughed as he wrote, and still the Captain

continued :

288 COURTSHIP OF MILES STANDISH

" Look ! you can see from this window my brazen

howitzer planted
High on the roof of the church, a preacher who

speaks to the purpose,
Steady, straightforward, and strong, with irresisti-
ble logic,
Orthodox, flashing conviction right into the hearts

of the heathen.
Now we are ready, I think, for any assault of the

Indians ;
Let them come, if they like, and the sooner they

try it the better, —
Let them come, if they like, be it sagamore,

sachem, or pow-wow,
Aspinet, Samoset, Corbitant, Squanto, or Tokama-

hamon ! "

Long at the window he stood, and wistfully

gazed on the landscape,
Washed with a cold gray mist, the vapory breath

of the east-wind,
Forest and meadow and hill, and the steel-blue

rim of the ocean,

Lying silent and sad, in the afternoon shadows
and sunshine.

Over his countenance flitted a shadow like those
on the landscape,

Gloom intermingled with light ; and his voice was
subdued with emotion.

Tenderness, pity, regret, as after a pause he pro-
ceeded :

*' Yonder there, on the hill by the sea, lies buried
Hose Staudish ;

ISH

my brazen

saclier who

th irresisti-

3 the hearts

sault of the

sooner they

it sagamore,

>, or Tokama-

his voice was
[pause he pro-
jea, lies huried

COURTSHIP OF MILES STANDISII 289

Beautiful rose of love, that bloomed for mo by the

wayside !
She was the first to die of all who came in the

Mayflower !
Green above her is growing the field of wheat we

have sown there,
Better to hide from the Indian scouts the graves of

our people,
Lest they should count them and sue how many

already have perished ! "
Sadly his face he averted, and strode up and down,

and was thoughtful.

Fixed to the opposite wall was a shelf of books,
and among them

Prominent three, distinguished alike for bulk and
for binding ;

Bariffe's Artillery Guide, and the Commentaries
of Cjesar

Out of the Latin translated by Arthur Goldinge
of London,

And, as if guarded by these, between them was
standing the Bible.

Musing a moment before them, Miles Standish
paused, as if doubtful

Which of the three he should choose for his con-
solation and comfort.

Whether the wars of the Hebrews, the famous
campaigns of the Komans,

Or the Artillery practice, designed for belligerent
Christians.

Finally down from its shelf he dragged the pon-
derous Eoman,

200 COURTSHIP OF MILES STANDI SH

Saated himself at tho window, and opened the
book, and in silence

Turned o'er the well-worn leaves, where thumb-
marks thick on the margin,

Like the trample of feet, proclaimed the battle
was hottest.

Nothing was heard in the room but the hurrying
pen of the stripling.

Busily writing epistles important, to go by tho
Mayflower,

Ready to sail on the morrow, or next day at latest,
God willing !

Homeward bound with the tidings of all that terri-
ble winter,

Letters written by Alden, and full of the name of
Priscilla !

Full of the name and the fame of the Puritan
maiden Priscilla !

II.

LOVE ArD FRIENDSHIP.

Nothing was heard in the room but the hurrying

pen of the stripling.
Or an occasional sigh from the laboring heart of

the Captain,
Eeading the marvellous words and achievements of

Julius Caesar.
After a while he exclaimed, as he smote with his

hand, palm downwards.
Heavily on the page : " A wonderful man was this

Caesar !

)ISH
ipened tho

ere thumb-

the battle

he hurrying

go by the

day at latest,

all that terri-

f the name of

the Puritan

the hurrying
goring heart of

[jhievements of
I smote with his
man was this

COURTSHIP OF MILES STANDISII 201

You are a writer, and I am a fighter, but here is a

fellow
Who could both write and fight, and in both was

equally skilful ! "
Straightway answered and spako John Alden, tho

comely, tho youthful :
" Yes, he was equally skilled, as you say, with his

pen and his weapons.
Somewhere have I read, but where I forget, he

could dictate
Seven letters at once, at the same time writing his

memoirs."
" Truly," continued the Captain, not heeding or

hearing the other,
" Truly a wonderful man was Caius Julius Caesar I
Better be first, he said, in a little Iberian village,
Than be second in Kome, and I think he was right

when he said it.
Twice was he married before he was twenty, and

many times after ;
Battles five hundred he fought, and a thousand

cities he conquered ;
He, too, fought in Flanders, as he himself has re-
corded ;
Finally he was stabbed by his friend, the orator

Brutus !
Now, do you know what he did on a certain occa-
sion in Flanders,
When the rear-guard of his army retreated, the

front giving way too,
And the immortal Twelfth Legion was crowded so

closely together
There was no room for their swords ? Why, he

seized a shield from a soldier,

■:'

292 COURTSHIP OF MILES STANDISH

Put himself straight at the hoad of his troops, and

commandod the captains,
Calling on each by his name, to order forward the

ensigns ;
Then to widen tlie ranks, and give more room for

their weapons ;
So he won the day, the battle of something-or-

other.
That 's what I always say ; if you wish a thing to

be well done,
You must do it yourself, you must not leave it to

others I "

All was silent again ; the Captain continued his
reading.

Nothing was heard in the room but the hurrying
pen of the stripling

Writing epistles important to go next day by the
Mayflower,

Filled with the name and the fame of the Puritan
maiden Priscilla ;

Every sentence began or closed with the name of
Priscilla,

Till the treacherous pen, to which he confided the
secret,

Strove to betray it by singing and shouting the
name of Priscilla !

Finally closing his book, with a bang of the pon-
derous cover.

Sudden and loud as the sound of a soldier ground-
ing his musket.

Thus to the young man spake Miles Standish the
Captain of Plymouth :

111

tiii '

ISH
roop«, ami

jrward the
ro room for
)methiug-or-
ti a thing to
t leave it to

continued his
the hurrying
ext day by the
of the Puritan
;h the name of
le confided tiie
Id shouting the
mg of the pon-
soldier grouud-
les Standish the

COURTSHIP OF MILES STANDISH 203

" When you havo finished your work, I have huiuq-

thing important to tell you.
Be not however in liaste ; I can wait ; I shall not

bo impatient ! "
Straightway Alden replied, as ho folded the last of

his letters.
Pushing his })apers aside, and giving respectful at-
tention :
" Speak ; for whenever you speak, T am always

ready to listen.
Always ready to hear whatever pertains to Miles
Standish."

Thereupon answered the Captain, embarrassed,
and culling his phrases :

" 'T is not good for a man to be alone, say the
Scriptures.

This I have said before, and again and again I re-
peat it ;

Every hour in the day, I think it, and feel it, and
say it.

Since Rose Standish died, my life has been weary
and dreary ;

Sick at heart have I been, beyond the healing of
friendship ;

Oft in my lonely hours have I thought of the
maiden Priseilla.

She is alone in the world ; her father and mother
and brother

Died in the winter together ; I saw her going and
coming.

Now to the grave of the dead, and now to the bed
of the dying.

Patient, courageous, and strong, and said to my-
self, that if ever

v '•>

294 COURTSHIP OF MILES STANDISH

There were angels on earth, as there are angels in

heaven,
Two have I seen ard known ; and the angel whose

name is Priscilla
Holds in my desolate life the place which the other

abandoned.
Long have I cherished the thought, but never have

dared to reveal it.
Being a coward in this, though valiant enough for

the most part.
Go to the damsel Priscilla, the loveliest maiden of

Plymouth,
Say that a blunt old Captain, a man not of words

but of actions.
Offers his hand and his heart, the hand and heart

of a soldier.
Not in these words, you know, but this in short is

my meaning ;
I am a maker of war, and not a maker of phrases.
You, who are bred as a scholar, can say it in ele-
gant language.
Such as you read in your books of the pleadings

and wooings of lovers,
Such as you think best adapted to win the heart

of a maiden."

When he had spoken, John Alden, the fair-
haired, taciturn stripling,

All aghast at his words, surprised, embarrassed,
bewildered,

Trying to mask his dismay by treating the subject
with lightness.

Trying to smile, and yet feeling his heart stand
still in his bosom,

SH
angels in

igel wliose

1 the other

never have

enough for

± maiden o£

lot o£ words

ad and heart

is in short is

.v of T)hrases.
say it in ele-

pleading

win the heart

den, the fair-
emharrassed,
ing the subject
kis heart stand

COURTSHIP OF MILES STANDI SII 295

Just as a timepiece stops in a house that is stricken
by lightning,

Thus made answer and spake, or rather stammered
than answered :

"Such a message as that, I am sure I should
mangle and mar it ;

If you would have it well done, — I am only re-
peating your maxim, —

You must do it yourself, you must not leave it to
others ! "

But with the air of a man whom nothing can turn
from his purpose.

Gravely shaking his head, made answer the Cap-
tain of Plymouth :

" Truly the maxim is good, and I do not mean to
gainsay it ;

But we must use it discreetly, and not waste pow-
der for nothing.

Now, as I said before, I was never a maker of
phrases.

I can march up to a fortress and summon the place
to surrender.

But march up to a woman with such a proposal, I
dare not.

I 'm not afraid of bullets, nor shot from the mouth
of a cannon.

But of a thundering ' No ! ' point-blank from the
mouth of a woman,

That I confess I 'm afraid of, nor am I ashamed to
confess it !

So you must grant my request, for you are an ele-
gant scholar,

Having the graces of speech, and skill in the turn-
ing of phrases."

296 COURTSHIP OF MILES STANDI SH

Taking the hand of his friend, who still was re-
luctant and doubtful,

Holding it long in his own, and pressing it kindly,
he added :

" Though I have spoken thus lightly, yet deep is
the feeling that prompts me ;

Surely you cannot refuse what I ask in the name
of our friendship ! "

Then made answer John Alden : " The name of
friendship is sacred ;

What you demand in that name, I have not the
power to deny you ! "

So the strong will prevailed, subduing and mould-
ing the gentler.

Friendship prevailed over love, and Alden went
on his errand.

III.

THE lover's errand.

So the strong will prevailed, and Alden went on
his errand.

Out of the street of the village, and into the paths
of the forest,

Into the tranquil woods, where bluebirds and rob-
ins were building

Towns in the populous trees, with hanging gar-
dens of verdure.

Peaceful, aerial cities of joy and affection and
freedom.

All around him was calm, but within him commo-
tion and conflict,

ISH

;ill was re-

r it kindly,

^et deep is

n the name

he name of

tave not the

r and mould-

Alden went

Jden went on
linto the paths
)irds androh-
hanging gar-
affection and
lin him conimo-

COURTSHIP OF MILES STANDISH 297

Love contending with friendship, and self with
each generous impulse.

To and fro in his breast his thoughts were heaving
and dashing,

As in a foundering ship, with every roll of the
vessel,

Washes the bitter sea, the merciless surge of the
ocean !

" Must I relinquish it all," he cried with a wild
lamentation, —

" Must I relinquish it all, the joy, the hope, the il-
lusion ?

Was it for this I have loved, and waited, and wor-
shipped in silence ?

Was it for this I have followed the flying feet and
the shadow

Over the wintry sea, to the desolate shores of New
England ?

Truly the heart is deceitful, and out of its depths
of corruption

Rise, like an exhalation, the misty phantoms of
passioxi ;

Angels of light they seem, but are only delusions
of Satan.

All is clear to me now ; I feel it, I see it dis-
tinctly I

This is the hand of the Lord ; it is laid upon me
in anger,

For I have followed too much the heart's desires
and devices.

Worshipping Astaroth blindly, and impious idols
of BaEil.

This is the cross I must bear ; the sin and the
swift retribution."

298 COURTSHIP OF MILES STANDTSH

So through the Plymouth woods John Alden
went on his errund ;

Crossing- the brook at the ford, where it brawled
over pebble and shallow,

Gathering still, as he went, the May-flowers bloom-
ing around him,

Fragrant, filling the air with a strange and won-
derful sweetness.

Children lost in the woods, and covered with
leaves in their slumber.

"Puritan flowers," he said, " and the type of Pu-
ritan maidens.

Modest and simple and sweet, the very type of
Priseilla !

So I will take them to her ; to Priseilla the May-
flower of Plymouth,

Modest and simiile and sweet, as a parting gift
will I take them ;

Breathing their silent farewells, as they fade and
wither and perish.

Soon to be thrown away as is the heart of the
giver."

So through the Plymouth woods John Alden went
on his errand ;

Came to an open space, and saw the disk of the
ocean,

Sailless, sombre and cold with the comfortless
breath of the east-wind ;

Saw the new-built house, and people at work in a
meadow ;

Heard, as he drew near the door, the musical
voice of Priseilla

Singing the hundredth Psalm, the grand old Pmi-
tan anthem,

hn Alden

It brawled

rers Uoom-

e and won-

vered with

type of Pu-

^ery type of

Llla the May-
parting gift

^hey fade and
heart of tlic
u Alden went
e disk of the
je comfortless
le at work in a
the musical
rrand old Puri-

COURTSniP OF MILES STANDISII 2l)D

Music that Luther sang to the sacred words of the

Psalmist,
Full of the breath of the Lord, consoling and com-
forting many.
Then, as he opened the door, he beheld tlie form

of the maiden
Seated beside her wheel, and the carded wool like

a snow-drift
Piled at her knee, her white hands feeding the

ravenous spindle.
While with her foot on the treadle she guided the

wheel in its motion.
Open wide on her lap lay the well-worn psalm-
book of Ainsworth,
Printed in Amsterdam, the words and the music

together,
Rough-hewn, angular notes, like stones in the wall

of a churchyard,
Darkened and overhung by the running vine of

the verses.
Such was the book from whose pages she sang the

old Puritan anthem.
She, the Puritan girl, in the solitude of the forest,
Making the humble house and the modest a})parel

of home-spun
Beautiful with her beauty, and rich with the

wealth of her being !
Over him rushed, like a wind that is keen and cold

and relentless.
Thoughts of what might have been, and the weight

and woe of his errand ;
All the dreams that had faded, and all the hopes

that had vanished,

300 COURTSHIP OF MILES STANDISH

All his life henceforth a dreary and tenantless

mansion,
Haunted by vain regrets, and pallid, sorrowful

faces.
Still he said to himself, and almost fiercely he

said it,
" Let not him that putteth his hand to the plough

look backwards ;
Though the ploughshare cut through the flowers of

life to its fountains.
Though it pass o'er the graves of the dead and

the hearths of the living.
It is the virill of the Lord ; and his mercy endureth

forever I "

So he entered the house : and the hum of the
wheel and the singing

Suddenly ceased ; for Priscilla, aroused by his step
on the threshold,

Rose as he entered, and gave him her hand, in sig-
nal of welcome,

Saying, " I knew it was you, when I heard your
step in the passage ;

For I was thinking of you, as I sat there singing
and spinning."

Awkward and dumb with delight, that a thought
of him had been mingled

Thus in the sacred psalm, that came from the heart
of the maiden.

Silent before her he stood, and gave her the flowers
for an answer.

Finding no words for his thought. Hd remem-
bered that day in the winter,

SH
benantlesa

sorrowful

iercely lie

the plougli

B flowers of

e dead and

•cy endureth

» hum of the
}d by his step
hand, in sig-
[ heard your
there singing
at a thought
rom the heart
er the flowers
II(t remem-

COURTSHIP OF MILES STAND I SH 301

After the first great snow, when he broke a path

from the village.
Reeling and plunging along through the drifts that

encumbered the doorway,
Stamping the snow from his feet as he entered the

house, and Priscilla
Laughed at his snowy locks, and gave him a seat

by the fireside.
Grateful and pleased to know he had thought of

her in the snow-storm.
Had he but spoken then I perhaps not in vain had

he spoken ;
Now it was all too late ; the golden moment had

vanished !
So he stood there abashed, and gave her the flowers

for an answer.

Then they sat down and talked of the birds and

the beautiful Spring-time,
Talked of their friends at home, and the Mayflower

that sailed on the morrow,
" I have been thinking all day," said gently the

Puritan maiden,
" Dreaming all night, and thinking all day, of the

hedge-rows of England, —
They are in blossom now, and the country is all

like a garden ;
Thinking of lanes and fields, and the song of the

lark and the linnet.
Seeing the village street, and familiar faces of

neighbors
Going about as of old, and stopping to gossip to-
gether,

i .,

802 COURTSHIP OF MILES STANDI SH

And, at the end of the street, the village church,

with the ivy
Climbing the old gray tower, and the quiet graves

in the churchyard.
Kind are the people I live with, and dear to me

my religion ;
Still my heart is so sad, that I wish myself back in

Old England.
You will say it is wrong, but I cannot help it : I

almost
Wish myself back in Old England, I feel so lonely

and wretched."

Thereupon answered the youth : " Indeed I do

not condemn you ;
Stouter hearts than a woman s have quailed in this

terrible winter.
Yours is tender and trusting, and needs a stronger

to lean on ;
So I have come to you now, with an offer and

proffer of marriage
Made by a good man and true. Miles Standish the

Captain of Plymouth I "

Thus he delivered his message, the dexterous
writer of letters, —

Did not embellish the theme, nor array it in beau-
tiful phrases,

But came straight to the point, and blurted it out
like a school-boy ;

Even the Captain himself could hardly have said
it more bluntly.

I I

DISH

age church,

(^uiet graves

dear to me

yself hack in

)t help it: I

feel so lonely

•' Indeed I do
quailed in this
eeds a stronger
h an offer and
es Standish the

the dexterous

irray it in ^^^^'
hlurted it out
ardly have said

COURTSHIP OF MILES STANDISH 303

Mute with amazement and sorrow, Priscilla the
Puritan maiden

Looked into Alden's face, her eyes dilated with
wonder.

Feeling his words like a blow, that stunned her
and rendered her speechless ;

Till at length she exclaimed, interrupting the om-
inous silence :

" If the great Captain of Plymouth ia so very eager
to wed me,

Why does he not come himself, and take the trouble
to woo me ?

If I am not worth the wooing, I surely am not
worth the winning ! "

Then John Alden began explaining and smoothing
the matter,

Making it worse as he went, by saying the Captain
w as busy, —

Had no time for such things ; — such things ! the
words grating harshly

Fell on the ear of Priscilla ; and swift as a flash
she made answer :

" Has he no time for such things, as you call it,
before he is married.

Would he be likely to find it, or make it, after the
wedding ?

That is the way with you men ; you don't under-
stand us, you cannot.

When you have made up your minds, after think-
ing of this one and that one.

Choosing, selecting, rejecting, comparing one with
another,

304 COURTSHIP OF MILES STAN DISH

Then you make known your desire, with abrupt

and sudden avowal,
And are offended and hurt, and indignant perhaps,

that a woman
Does not respond at once to a love that she never

suspected,
Does not attain at a bound the height to which you

have been climbing.
This is not right nor just : for surely a woman's

affection
Is not a thing to be asked for, and had for only the

asking.
When one is truly in love, one not only says it,

but shows it.
Had he but waited awhile, had he only showed that

he loved me,
Even this Captain of yours — who knows ? — at

last might have won me,
Old and rough as he is; but now it never can

happen."

Still John Alden went on, unheeding the words
of Priscilla,

Urging the suit of his friend, explaining, persuad-
ing, expanding ;

Spoke of his courage and skill, rnd of all his bat-
tles in Flanders,

How with the people of God he had chosen to suf-
fer affliction ;

How, in return for his zeal, they had made him
Captain of Plymouth ;

He was a gentleman born, could trace his pedigree
plainly

COURTSHIP OF MILES ST AN DISH 305

Back to Hugh Stanclish of Duxbuiy Hall, in Lan-
cashire, England,

Who was the son of Kalph, aiul the grandson of
Thurston de Standish ;

Heir unto vast estates, of which he was basely de-
frauded,

Still bore the family arms, and had for his crest
a cock argent

Combed and wattled gules, and all the rest of the
blazon.

He was a man of honor, of noble and generous
nature ;

Though he was rough, he was kindly ; she knew
how during the winter

He had attended the sick, with a hand as gentle as
woman's ;

Somewhat hasty and hot, he could not deny it, and
headstrong.

Stern as a soldier might be, but hearty, and pla-
cable always.

Not to be laughed at and scorned, because he was
little of stature ;

For he was great of heart, magnanimous, courtly,
courageous ;

Any woman in Plymouth, nay, any woman in Eng-
land,

Might be happy and proud to be called the wife of
Miles Standish !

But as he warmed and glowed, in his simple and
eloquent language.
Quite forgetful of self, and full of the praise of
his rival.

5iOO COUltTSIIIP OF MILES STANDISII

Anilily tho iimitlen smiled, and, with eyes over-
running; with laughter,

Said, in a trenuUouH voice, " Why don't you speak
for yourself, John ? "

IV.

JOHN ALDEN.

Into the open air John Aldon, perplexed and be-
wildered,

Hushed like a man insane, and wandered alone by
tho sea-side ;

Paced up and down the sands, and bared his head
to the east-wind.

Cooling his heated brow, and the fire and fever
within him.

Slowly as out of the heavens, with apocalyptical
splendors.

Sank the City of God, in the vision of John tho
Apostle,

So, with its cloudy walls of chrysolite, jasper, and
sapphire.

Sank the broad red sun, and over its turrets up-
lifted

Glimmered the golden reed of the angel who meas-
ured the city.

" Welcome, O wind of the East ! " he exclaimed
in his wild exultation,

" Welcome, O wind of the East, from the ^aves of
the misty Atlantic !

Blowing o'er fields of dulse, and measureless mead-
ows of sea-grass,

DISH

1 eyes ovor-
I't you speak

ilcxccl and be-
ered alone by
bared his head
fire and fever
h apocalyptical
on of John the
|lite, jasper, and
Ir its turrets up-
ngel who meas-

ll " he exclaimed
pom the ^aves of
jasureless mead-

COURTSIIIP OF MILKS STANDISII 307

Blowing o'er rocky wastes, and tho grottos and

gardens of oeean I
Lay thy cold, tnoist haml on my burning forehead,

and wrap nie
Close in thy garments of mist, to alla^y tho fever

within mo I "

Like an awakened conscience, tho sea was moan-
ing and tossing.

Beating remorseful and loud the mutable sands of
the sea-shore.

Fierce in his soul was tho struggle and tumult of
passions contending ;

Love triumphant and crowned, and friendship
wounded and bleeding,

Passionate cries of desire, and importunate plead-
ings of duty !

" Is it my fault," ho said, " that the maiden has
chosen between us?

Is it my fault that he failed, — my fault that I am
the victor ? "

Then within him there thundered a voice, like the
voice of tho Prophet :

" It hfith displeased the Lord ! " — and ho thought
of David's transgression,

Bathsheba's beautiful face, and his friend in the
front of the battle !

Shame and confusion of guilt, and abasement and
self-condemnation.

Overwhelmed him at once; and he cried in the
deepest contrition :

" It hath displeased the Ijord ! It is the tempta-
tion of Satan ! "

308 COURTSHIP OF MILES STANDI SH

it*

\\l

Then, uplifting his head, he looked at the sea,
and beheld there

Dimly the shadowy form of the Mayflower riding
at anchor,

Kocked on the rising tide, and ready to sail on the
morrow ;

Heard the voices of men through the mist, the rat-
tle of cordage

Thrown on the deck, the shouts of the mate, and
the sailors' " Ay, ay. Sir ! "

Clear and distinct, but not loud, in the dripping
air of the twilight.

Still for a moment he stood, and listened, and
stared at the vessel.

Then went hurriedly on, as one who, seeing a phan-
tom,

Stops, then quickens his pace, and follows the
beckoning shadow.

" Yes, it is plain to me now," he murmured ; " the
hand of the Lord is

Leading me out of the land of darkness, the bond-
age of error.

Through the sea, that shall lift the walls of its wa-
ters around me,

Hiding me, cutting me off, f rouA the cruel thoughts
that pursue me.

Back will I go o'er the ocean, this dreary land will
abandon.

Her whom I may not love, and him whom my
heart has offended.

Better to be in my grave in the green old church-
yard in England,

Close by my mother's side, and among the dust of
my kindred ;

nsH

at the sea,
3wer riding
) sail on the
nist, the rat-
be mate, and
the dripping
listened, and
jeeing a phan-
1 follows the
rmured; "the
ess, the bond-
rails of its wa-
Icruel thoughts
reary land will
lim whom my
jn old church-
Ln"" the dust oi

COURTSHIP OF MILES STANDISII 309

Better be dead and forgotten, than living in shame

and dishonor ;
Sacred and safe and unseen, in the dark of the

narrow chambe i*
With me my secret shall lie, like a buried jewel

that glimmers
Bright on the hand that is dust, in the chambers

of silence and darkness, —
Yes, as the marriage ring of the great espousal

hereafter ! "

Thus as he spake, he turned, in the strength of
his strong resolution,

Leaving behind him the yhore, and hurried along
in the twilight,

Through the congenial gloom of the forest silent
and sombre,

Till he beheld the lights in the seven houses of
Plymouth,

Shining like seven stars in the dusk and mist of
the evening.

Soon he entered his door, and found the redoubta-
ble Captain

Sitting alone, and absorbed in the martial pages
of Caesar,

Fighting some great campaign in Hainault or Bra-
bant or Flanders.

"Long have you been on your errand," he said
with a cheery demeanor,

Even as one who is waiting an answer, and fears
not the issue.

" Not far off is the house, although the woods are
between us ;

Jl"r' 'I-

p.'.'.-

.1i!i

10'

"}■

310 COURTSHIP OF MILES STANDISH

But you have lingered so long, that while you were
going and coming

I have fought ten battles and sacked and demol-
ished a city.

Come, sit down, and in order relate to me all that
has happened."

Then John Alden spake, and related the won-
drous adventure.

From beginning to end, minutely, just as it hap-
pened ;

How he had seen Priscilla, and how he had sped
in his courtship.

Only smoothing a little, and softening down her
refusal.

But when he came at length to the words Priscilla
had spoken,

"Words so tender and cruel : " Why don'i; you
speak for yourself, John ? "

Up leaped the Captain of Plymouth, and stamped
on the floor, till his armor

Clanged on the wall, where it hung, with a sound
of sinister omen.

All his pent-up wrath burst forth in a sudden ex-
plosion,

E'en as a hand-grenade, that scatters destruction
around it.

Wildly he shouted, and loud : " John Alden ! you
have betrayed me !

Me, Miles Standish, your friend ! have supplanted,
defrauded, betrayed me !

One of my ancestors ran his sword through the
heart of Wat Tyler ;

ISH

e you were

and demol-

, me all that

;ed the won-
st as it hap-
r he had sped
ing down her
yords Priscilla
;\iy don'ii you
, and stamped
, with a sound
a sudden ex-
bers destruction
Ihn Alden! you
lave supplanted,
)rd through the

COURTSHIP OF MILES STANDISIl 311

Who shall prevent me from running my own
through the heart of a traitor ?

Yours is the greater treason, for yours is a treason
to friendship !

You, who lived under my roof, whom I cherished
and loved as a brother ;

You, who have fed at my board, and drunk at my
cup, to whose keeping

I have intrusted my honor, my thoughts the most
sacred and secret, —

You too, Brutus ! ah woe to the name of friend-
ship hereafter !

Brutus was Caesar's friend, and you were mine, but
henceforward

Let there be nothing between us save war, and im-
placable hatred ! "

So spake the Captain of Plymouth, and strode

about in the chamber.
Chafing and choking with rage ; like cords were

the veins on his temples.
But in the midst of his anger a man appeared at

the doorway.
Bringing in uttermost haste a message of urgent

importance,
Rumors of danger and war and hostile incursions

of Indians
Straightway the Captain paused, and, without

further question or parley.
Took from the nail on the wall his sword with its

scabbard of iron.
Buckled the belt round his waist, and, frowning

fiercely, departed.

1 I

312 COURTSHIP OF MILES STANDISH

Alden was left alone. He heard the clank of tlie

scabl)ard
Growing fainter and fainter, and dying away in

the distance.
Then he arose from his seat, and looked forth into

the darkness,
Felt the cool air blow on his cheek, that was hot

with the insult,
Lifted his eyes to the heavens, and, folding his

hands as in childhood,
Prayed in the silence of night to the Father who

seeth in secret.

Meanwhile the choleric Captain strode wrathful

away to the council.
Found it already assembled, imj)atiently waiting

his coming;
Men in the middle of life, austere and grave in

deportment.
Only one of them old, the hill that was nearest to

heaven,
Covered with snow, but erect, the excellent Elder

of Plymouth.
God had sifted three kingdoms to find the wheat

for this planting.
Then had sifted the wheat, as the living seed of a

nation ;
So say the chronicles old, and such is the faith of

the people!
Near them was standing an Indian, in attitude

stern and defiant.
Naked down to the waist, and grim and ferocious

in aspect ;

DISH
lank of the

ng away in

jd forth into

that was hot

L, folding his

e Father who

trode wrathful
tiently waiting
i and grave in
was nearest to
■xcellent Elder
find the wheat
I living seed of a
is the faith of
lian, in attitude
and ferocious

COURTSHIP OF MILES STANDISH 313

While on the table before them was lying unopened
a Bible,

Ponderous, bound in leather, brass-studded, printed
in Holland,

And beside it outstretched the skin of a rattlesnake
glittered,

Filled, like a quiver, with arrows; a signal and
challenge of warfare.

Brought by the Indian, and speaking with arrowy
tongues of defiance.

This Miles Standish beheld, as he entered, and
heard them debating

What were an answer befitting the hostile messacc
and menace,

Talking of this and of that, contriving, suggesting,
objecting ;

One voice only for peace, and that the voice of the
Elder,

Judging it wise and well that some at least were
converted.

Rather than any were slain, for this was but Chris-
tian behavior !

Then out spake Miles Standish, the stalwart Cap-
tain of Plymouth,
Muttering deep in his throat, for his voice was

husky with anger,
" What ! do you mean to make war with milk and

the water of roses ?
Is it to shoot red squirrels you have your howitzer

planted
There on the roof of the church, or is it to shoot

red devils ?
Truly the only tongue that is understood by a sav-
age

I !i-|

314 COURTSHIP OF MILES STANDI SH

Must be the tongue of fire that speaks from the

mouth of the cannon ! "
Thereupon answered and said the excellent Elder

of Plymouth,
Somewhat amazed and alarmed at this irreverent

language :
" Not so thought St. Paul, nor yet the other Apos-
tles ;
Not from the cannon's mouth were the tongues of

fire they spake with ! "
But unheeded fell this mild rebuke on the Captain,
Who had advanced to the table, and thus continued

discoursing :
" Leave this matter to me, for to me by right it

pertaineth.
War is a terrible trade ; but in the cause that is

righteous.
Sweet is the smell of powder ; and thus I answer

the challenge ! "

Then from the rattlesnake's skin, with a sudden,

contemptuous gesture,
Jerking the Indian arrows, he filled it with powder

and bullets
Full to the very jaws, and handed it back to the

savage.
Saying, in thundering tones : " Here, take it! this

IS your answer

T "

Silently out of the room then glided the glistening

savage.

Bearing the serpent's skin, and seeming himself

like a serpent.
Winding his sinuous way in the dark to the depths

of the forest.

s from the

Uent Elder

3 irreverent

other Apoa-

e tongues of

the Captain,
bus continued

ae by right it

cause that is

thus I answer

with a sudden,
it with powder
lit back to the
re, take it! this
the glistening
deeming himself
rk to the depths

COURTSHIP OF MILES STANDISH 315

THE SAILING OP THE MAYFLOWER.

Just in the gray of the dawn, as the mists uprose
from the meadows,

There was a stir and a sound in the slumbering
village of Plymouth ;

Clanging and clicking of arms, and the order im-
perative, " Forward I "

Given in tone suppressed, a tramp of feet, and
then silence.

Figures ten, in the mist, marched slowly out of the
village.

Standish the stalwart it was, with eight of his val-
orous army,

Led by their Indian guide, by Hobomok, friend of
the white men,

Northward marching to quell the sudden revolt of
the savage.

Giants they seemed in the mist, or the mighty men
of King David ;

Giants in heart they were, who believed in God
and the Bible, —

Ay, who believed in the smiting of Midianites and

Philistines.
Over them gleamed far olf the crimson banners of

morning ;
Under them loud on the sands, the serried biUows,

advancing,
Fired along the line, and in regular order re-
treated.

316 COURTSHIP OF MILES STANDISH

Many a mile had they marched, when at length

the village of Plymouth
Woke from its sleep, and arose, intent on its

manifold labors.
Sweet was the air and soft ; and slowly the smoke

from the chimneys
Rose over roofs of thatch, and pointed steadily

eastward ;
Men came forth from the doors, and paused and

talked of the weather.
Said that the wind had changed, and was blow ing

fair for the Mayflower ;
Talked of their Captain's departure, and all the

dangers that menaced.
He being gone, the town, and what should be done

in his absence.
Merrily sang the birds, and the tender voices of

women
Consecrated with hymns the common cares of the

household.
Out of the sea rose the sun, and the billows re-
joiced at his (joming ;
Beautiful were his feet on the purple tops of the

mountains ;
Beautiful on the sails of the Mayflower riding at

anchor.
Battered and blackened and worn by all the storms

of the winter.
Loosely against her macts was hanging and flap-
ping her canvas,
Kent by so many gales, and patched by the hands

of the sailors.
Suddenly from her side, as the sun rose over tbe

ocean,

nsH

n at length
;ent on its
y the smoke
bed steadily
paused and
was blowing
and all the
lould be done
der voices of
1 cares of the
,e billows re-
e tops of the
wer riding at
all the storms
ing and flap-
by the hands
rose over the

COURTSHIP OF MILES STANDISII 317

Darted a pu£E of smoke, and floated seaward ; anon

rang
Loud over field and forest the cannon's roar, and

the echoes
Heard and repeated the sound, the signal-gun of

departure I
Ah I but with louder echoes replied the hearts of

the people !
Meekly, in voices subdued, the chapter was read

from the Bible,
Meekly the prayer was begun, but ended in fervent

entreaty I
Then from their houses in haste came forth the

Pilgrims of Plymouth,
Men and women and children, all hurrying down

to the sea-shore.
Eager, with tearful eyes, to say farewell to the

Mayflower,
Homeward bound o'er the sea, and leaving them

here in the desert.

Foremost among them was Alden. All night he

had lain without slumber,
Turning and tossing about in the heat and unrest

of his fever.
He had beheld Miles Standish, who came back late

from the council,
Stalking into the room, and heard him mutter and

murmur,
Sometimes it seemed a prayer, and sometimes it

sounded like swearing.
Once he had come to the bed, and stood there a

moment in silence ;

11^

818 COURTSHIP OF MILES STANDISU

Then he had turned away, and said : '' I will not

awake hiui ;
Let him sleep on, it is best ; for what is the use of

more talking I "
Then he extinguished the light, and threw himself

down on his pallet,
Dressed as he was, and ready to start at the break

of the morning, —
Covered himself with the cloak he had worn in his

campaigns in Flanders, —
Slept as a soldier sleeps in his bivouac, ready for

action.
But with the dawn he arose ; in the twilight Alden

beheld him
Pp.t on his corselet of steel, and all the rest of his

armor.
Buckle about his waist his trusty blade of Da-
mascus,
Take from the corner his musket, and so stride out

of the chamber.
Often the heart of the youth had burned and

yearned to emb. ice him.
Often his lips had essayed to speak, imploring for

pardon ;
All the old friendship came back, with its tender

and grateful emotions ;
But his pride overmastered the nobler nature

within him, —
Pride, and the sense of his wrong, and the burning

fire of the insult.
So he beheld his friend departing in anger, but

spake not.
Saw him go forth to danger, perhaps to death, and

he spake not I

ISH
1 will not

the use of

ew himself

,t the break

worn in his

ic, ready for

rilight Aldeu

.e rest of his

blade of Da-

L so stride out

burned and

imploring for

ith its tender

obler nature

d the burning

n anger, but

to death, and

COURTSHIP OF MILES STANDISII 319

Then he arose from his bed, and heard what the

people were saying,
Joined in the talk at the door, with Stephen and

Richard and Gilbert,
Joined in the morning prayer, and in the reading

of Scripture,
And, with the others, in haste went hurrying down

to the sea-shore,
Down to the Plymouth Hock, that had been to their

feet as a doorstep
Into a world unknown, — the corner-stone of a

nation I

There with his boat was the Master, already a

little impatient
Lest he should lose the tide, or the wind might shift

to the eastward.
Square-built, hearty, and strong, with an odor of

ocean about him.
Speaking with this one and that, and cramming let-
ters and parcels
Into his pockets capacious, and messages mingled

together
Into his narrow brain, till at last he was wholly

bewildered.
Nearer the boat stood Alden, with one foot placed

on the gunwale,
One still firm on the rock, and talking at times

with the sailors.
Seated erect on the thwarts, all ready and eager

for starting.
He too was eager to go, and thus put an end to his

anguish.

'*»p«flt«w

St-

320 COURTSHIP OF MILES STAN DISH

Thiukingf to fly from despair, that swifter than keel

is or can van,
Thinking to drown in the sea the ghost that would

rine and purHue him.
But as he gazed on the crowd, he beheld the form

of Priscilla
Standing dejected among them, unconscious of all

that was passing.
Fixed were her eyes upon his, as if she divined his

intention.
Fixed with a look so sad, so reproachful, imploring,

and ])atient.
That with a sudden revulsion his heart recoiled

from its purpose.
As from the verge of a crag, where one step more

is destruction.
Strange is the heart of man, with its quick, mys-
terious instincts I
Strange is the life of man, and fatal or fated are

moments.
Whereupon turn, as on hinges, the gates of the

wall adamantine !
" Here I remain I " he exclaimed, as he looked at

the heavens above him.
Thanking the Lord whose breath had scattered the

mist and the madness.
Wherein, blind and lost, to dct ''' he was stagger-
ing headlong.
" Yonder snow-white cloud, that floats in the ether

above me,
Seems like a hand that is pointing and beckoning

over the ocean.
There is another hand, that is not so spectral and

ghost-like,

ISII

r than keel

that would
d the form
[•ious of all
divined his
1, imploring,
Bart recoiled
ae step more
;8 quick, mys-
or fated are
gates of the
he looked at
scattered the
was stagger-
Is in the ether
Ind beckoning
spectral and

COURTSinP OF MILES STANDI SII 1121

Holding mo, drawing mo back, and clasping mine

for protection.
Float, O hand of cloud, and vanish away in the

ether 1
Roll thyself up like a fist, to threaten and daunt

me ; I htu'd not
Either your warning or menace, or any omen of

evill
There is no land so saored, no air so pure and so

wholesome.
As is the air she breathes, and the soil that is

pressed by her footsteps.
Here for her sake will 1 stay, and like an invisible

presence
Hover around her forever, protecting, supporting

her weakness ;
Yes ! as my foot was the first that stepped on this

rock at the landing.
So, with the blessing of God, shall it be the last

at tlie leaving ! "

Meanwhile the Master alert, but witli dignified
air and important.

Scanning with watchful eye the tide and the wind
and the weather,

Walked about on the sands, and the people crowded
around him

Saying a few last words, and enforcing his careful
remembrance.

Then, taking each by the hand, as if he were grasp-
ing a tiller,

Into the boat he sprang, and in haste shoved off to
his vessel,

322 COURTSHIP OF MILES STANDISH

Glad in his heart to get rid of all this worry and

flurry,
Glad to be gone from a land of sand and sickness

and sorrow,
Short allowance of victual, and plenty of nothing

but Gospel !
Lost in the sound of the oars was the last farewell

of the Pilgrims.
O strong hearts and true I not one went back in

the Mayflower!
No, not one looked back, who had set his hand to

this ploughing I

Soon were heard on board the shouts and songs

of the sailors
Heaving the windlass round, and hoisting the pon-
derous anchor.
Then the yards were braced, and all sails set to the

west-wind,
Blowing steady and strong; and the Mayflower

sailed from the harbor.
Rounded the point of the Gurnet, and leaving far

to the southward
Island and cape of sand, and the Field of the First

Encounter,
Took the wind on her quarter, and stood for the

open Atlantic,
Borne on the send of the sea, and the swelling

hearts of the Pilgrims.

Long in silence they watched the receding sail
of the vessel,
Much endeared to them all, as something living
and human :

DISH

3 worry and

and sickness
y of notbing
J last farewell
went back in
3t bis band to

outs and songs
listing tbe pon-
1 sails set to tbe
tbe Mayflower
and leaving far
rield of tbe First
id stood for tbe
md tbe sweUing

Itbe receding saU
sometbing living

COURT SIITP OF MILES STANDI SH 323

Then, as if filled witb the spirit, and wrapt in a

viri;ion prophetic.
Baring his hoary head, the excellent Elder of

Plymouth
Said, " Let us pray ! " and they prayed, and

thanked the Lord and took courao-e.
Mournfully sobbed the waves at the base of the

rock, and above them
Bowed and whispered the wheat on the hill of

death, and their kindred
Seemed to awake in their graves, and to join in the

prayer that they uttered.
Sun-illumined and white, on the eastern verge of

the ocean
Gleamed the departing sail, like a marble slab in

a graveyard ;
Buried beneath it lay forever all hope of escaping.
Lo ! as they turned to depart, they saw the form of

an Indian,
Watching them from the hill ; but while they spake

with each other,
Pointing with outstretched hands, and saying,

" Look ! " he had vanished.
So they returned to their homes ; but Alden lin-
gered a little,
Musing alone on the shore, and watching the wash

of the billows
Round the base of the rock, and the sparkle and

flash of the sunshine.
Like the spirit of God, moving visibly over the

waters.

Ht''

324 COURTSHIP OF MILES STANDI SH

VI.

PRISCILLA.

Thus for a while he stood, and mused by the shore
of the ocean,

Thinking of many things, and most of all of Pris-
cilla ;

And as if thought had the power to draw to itself,
like the loadstone,

Whatsoever it touches, by subtiJe laws of its na-
ture,

Lo ! as he turned to depart, Priscilla was standing
beside him.

" Are you so much offended, you will not speak

to me ? " said she.
" Am I so much to blame, that yesterday, when

you were pleading
Warmly the cause of another, my heart, impulsive

and wayward.
Pleaded your own, and spake out, forgetfid per-
haps of decoriun ?
Certainly you can forgive me for sneaking so

frankly, for saying
What I ought not to have said, yet now I can

never unsay it ;
Foi there are moments in life, when the heart is

so full of emotion,
That if by chance it be shaken, or into its depths

like a pebble
Drops some careless word, it overflows, and its

secret,

mmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm

ISH

>y tlie shore
all of Pris-
?aw to itself,
ITS of its na-
was standing

nil not speak
iterday, when
art, impulsive
orgetful per-
sj^eaking so
et now I can
n the heart is
into its depths
flows, and its

COURTSHIP OF MILES STANDISII 325

Spilt on the ground like water, can never be gath-
ered together.

Yesterday I was shocked, when I heard you speak
of Miles Standish,

Praising his virtues, transforming his very defects
into virtues,

Praising his courage and strength, and even his
fighting in Flanders,

As if by fighting alone you could win the heart of
a woman,

Quite overlooking yourself and the rest, in exalt-
ing your hero.

Therefore I spake as I did, by an irresistible im-
pulse.

You wUl forgive me, I hope, for the sake of the
friendship between us.

Which is too true and too sacred to be so easily
broken ! "

Thereupon answered John Alden, the scholar, the
friend of Miles Standish :

" I was not angry with you, with myself alone I
was angry,

Seeing how badly I managed the matter I had in
my keeping."

"No!" interrupted the maiden, with answer
prompt and decisive ;

"No; you were angry with me, for speaking so
frankly and freely.

It was wrong, I acknowledge ; for it is the fate of
a woman

Long to be patient and silent, to wait like a ghost
that is speechless.

Till some questioning voice dissolves the spell of
its silence.

326 COURTSHIP OF MILES STAN DISH

Hence is the inner life of so many suffering

women
Sunless and silent and deep, like subterranean

rivers
Running through caverns of darkness, unheard,

unseen, and unfruitful.
Chafing their channels of stone, with endless and

profitless murmurs."
Thereupon answered John Alden, the young man,

the lover of women :
" Heaven forbid it, Friscilla ; and truly they seem

to me always
More like the beautiful rivers that watered the

garden of Eden,
More like the river Euphrates, through deserts of

Havilah flowing.
Filling the land with delight, and memories sweet

of the garden ! "
" Ah, by these words, I can see," again interrupted

the maiden,
" How very little you prize me, or care for what I

am saying.
When from the depths of my heart, in pain and

with secret misgiving.
Frankly I speak to you, asking for sympathy only

and kindness,
Straightway you take up my words, that are plain

and direct and in earnest.
Turn them away from their meaning, and answer

with flattering phrases.
This is not right, is not just, is not true to the best

that is in you ;
For I know and esteem you, and feel that your

nature is noble,

■■■■■■■MHMtHMiii

OJSII

ly suffering

ubterranean

ss, unliearcl,

endless and

young

man,

Lily tliey seem
; watered tlie
ugli deserts of
aemories sweet
ain interrupted
care for what I
t, in pain and
sympathy only
, that are plain
ing, and answer
true to the best
feel that your

COURTSHIP OF MILES STANDI S II 327

Lifting mine up to a higher, a more ethereal level.

Therefore I value your friendship, and feel it per-
haps the more keenly

If you say aught that implies I am only as one
among many,

If you make use of those common and eompllmen-
tary phrases

Most men think so fine, in dealing and speakinor
with women,

But whieh women reject as insipid, if not as in-
sulting."

Mute and amazed was Alden ; and listened and
looked at Priscilla,

Thinking he never had seen her more fair, more
divine in her beauty.

He who but yesterday pleaded so gHbly the causij
of another,

Stood there embarrassed and silent, and seeking in
vain for an answer.

So the maiden went on, and little divined or im-
agined

What was at work in his heart, that made him so
awkward and speechless.

^' Lei us, then, be what we are, and speak what
we think, and in all things

Keep ourselves loyal to truth, and the sacred pro-
fessions of friendship.

It is no secret I tell you, nor am I ashamed to de-
clare it :

I have liked to be with you, to see you, to speak
with you always.

So I was hurt at your words, and a little affronted
to hear you

328 COURTSHIP OF MILES STANDI SH

Urge me to marry your friend, though he were the

Captain Miles Standish.
For I must tell you the truth : much more to me is

your friendship
Than all the love he could give, were he twice the

hero you think him."
Then she extended her hand, and Alden, who

eagerly grasped it.
Felt all the wounds in his heart, that were aching

and bleeding so sorely,
Healed by the touch of that hand, and he said,

with a voice full of feeling :
" Yes, we must ever be friends ; and of all who

offer you friendship
Let me be ever the first, the truest, the nearest

and dearest ! "

Casting a farewell look at the glimmering sail of

the Mayflower,
Distant, but still in sight, and sinking below the

horizon.
Homeward together they walked, with a strange,

indefinite feeling.
That all the rest had departed and left them alone

in the desert.
But, as they went through the fields in the blessing

and smile of the sunshine,
Lighter grew their hearts, and Priscilla said very

archly :
" Now that our terrible Captain has gone in pursuit

of the Indians,
Where he is happier far than he would be com-
manding a household.

OISH

be were the

ore to me is

tie twice the

Alden, who

were aching

and he said,

d of all who

t, the nearest

imering sail of
ing below the
ith a strange,
jft them alone
in the blessing
;cilla said very
jone in pursuit
rould be com-

COURTSHIP OF MILES STANDISH 329

You may speak boldly, and tell me of all that
happened between you.

When you returned last night, and said how un-
grateful you found me."

Thereupon answered John Alden, and told her the
whole of the story, —

Told her his own despair, and the direful wrath of
Miles Standish.

Whereat the maiden smiled, and said between
laughing and earnest,

" He is a little chimney, and heated hot in a mo-
ment ! "

But as he gently rebuked her, and told her how he
had suffered, —

How he had even determined to sail that day in
the Mayflower,

And had remained for her sake, on hearing the
dangers that threatened, —

All her manner was changed, and she said with a
faltering accent,

" Truly I thank you for this : how good you have
been to me always I "

Thus, as a pilgrim devout, who toward Jeru-
salem journeys.

Taking three steps in advance, and one reluctantly
backward,

Urged by importunate zeal, and withheld by pangs
of contrition ;

Slowly but steadily onward, receding yet ever ad-
vancing.

Line 7. But as he gently rebuked her, and told her how much he had
suffered, —

I ^

■J

830 COURTSHIP OF MILES STANDISH

1
I

Journeyed this Puritan youth to the Holy Land of
his longings,

Urged by the fervor of love, and withheld by re-
morseful misgivings.

VII.

THE MARCH OF MILES STANDISH.

Meanwhile the stalwart Miles Standish was march-
ing steadily northward.
Winding through forest and swamp, and along the

trend of the sea-shore,
All day long, with hardly a halt, the fire of his

anger
Burning and crackling within, and the sulphurous

odor of powder
Seeming more sweet to his nostrils than all the

scents of the forest.
Silent and moody he went, and much he revolved

his discomfort ;
He who was used to success, and to easy victories

always,
Thus to be flouted, rejected, and laughed to scorn

by a maiden.
Thus to be mocked and betrayed by the friend

whom most he had trusted !
Ah ! 't was too much to be borne, and he fretted

and chafed in his armor !

" I alone am to blame," he muttered, " for mina
was the folly.
What has a rough old soldier, grown grim and
gray in the harness.

»'

DISH

oly Land of

ibeld by re-

MSH.

h was march-
md along the
le fire of his
be sulphurous
\ than aU the
ih he revolved
easy victories
hed to scorn
y the friend
Ind he fretted

}d, " for mine
grim and

COUni'SHIP OF MILES STANDISII 331

Used to the camp and its ways, to do with the

wooing of maidens ?
'T was but a dream, — let it pass, — let it vanish

like so many others !
What I thought was a flower, is only a weed, and

is worthless ;
Out of my heart will I pluck it, and throw it

away, and henceforward
Be but a fighter of battles, a lover and wooer of

dangers I "
Thus he revolved in his mind his sorry defeat and

discomfort.
While he was marching by day or lying at night in

the forest.
Looking up at the trees, and the constellations be-
yond them.

After a three days' march he came to an Indian
encampment

Pitched on the edge of a meadow, between the sea
and the forest ;

AVomen at work by the tents, and warriors, horrid
with war-paint.

Seated about a fire, and smoking and talking to-
gether ;

Who, when they saw from afar the sudden ap-
proach of the white men.

Saw the flash of the sun on breastplate and sabi?
and musket.

Straightway leaped to their feet, and two, from
among them advancing.

Came to parley with StandisJi, and offer him furs
as a present ;

Mi>

t V

i
i

382 COURTSHIP OF MILES STANDISH

Friendship was in their looks, but in their hearts

there was hatred.
Braves of the tribe were these, and brothers, gi-
gantic in stature,
Huge as Goliath of Gath, or the terrible Og, king

of Bashan ;
One was Pecksuot named, and the other was called

Wattawamat.
Round their necks were suspended their knives in

scabbards of wampum.
Two-edged, trenchant knives, with points as sharp

as a needle.
Other arms had they none, for they were cunning

and crafty.
" Welcome, English ! " they said, — these words

they had learned from the traders
Touching at times on the coast, to barter and

chaffer for peltries.
Then in their native tongue they began to parley

with Standish,
Through his guide and interpreter, Hobomok,

friend of the white man.
Begging for blankets and knives, but mostly for

muskets and powder.
Kept by the white man, they said, concealed, with

the plague, in his cellars.
Ready to be let loose, and destroy his brother the

red man !
But when Standish refused, and said he would give

them the Bible,
Suddenly changing their tone, they began to boast

and to bluster.
Then Wattawamat advanced with a stride in front

of the other.

ISH

leir hearts

rothers, gi-

e Og, king

was called

ir kuives in

ats as sharp

ere cunning

these words
ers
barter and

ran to parley

Hobomok,

b mostly for

icealed, with

brother the

e would give

sgan to boast

Iride in front

COURT SHIP OF MILES STAN DISH 333

And, witli a lofty demeanor, thus vauntingly spake

to the Captain :
" Now Wattawamat can see, by the fiery eyes of

the Captain,
Angry is he in his heart ; but the heart oi the

bravo Wattawamat
Is not afraid at the sight. He was not born of a

woman,
But on a mountain at night, from an oak-tree riven

by lightning.
Forth he sprang at a bound, with all his weapons

about him.
Shouting, ' Who is there here to fight with the

brave Wattawamat ? '"
Then he unsheathed his knife, and, whetting the

blade on his left hand,
Held it aloft and displayed a woman's face on the

handle ;
Saying, with bitter expression and look of sinister

meaning :
" I have another at home, with the face of a man

on the handle ;
By and by they shall marry ; and there will be

plenty of children I "

Then stood Fecksuot forth, self-vaunting, insult-
ing Miles Standish :

While with his fingers he patted the knife that
hung at his bosom.

Drawing it half from its sheath, and plunging it
back, as he muttered,

" By and by it shall see ; it shall eat ; 2.\ ha I but
shall speak not !

^'!

834 COURTSHIP OF MILES STANDISH

This in the mighty Captain tlio >vhito men have

sent to destroy uh I
He is a little man ; let him go and work with the

won) en I "

i; ■"■:'

♦I

Meanwhile Stand ish had noted the faces and

figures of Indians
Peeping and creeping about from bush to tree in

the forest,
^Feigning to look for game, with arrows set on their

bow-strings,
Drawing about him still closer and closer the net

of their ambush.
But undaunted he stood, and t'^'ssembled and

treated them smoothly ;
So the old chronicles say, that were writ m the

days of the fathers.
But when he heard their defiance, the boast, the

taunt, and the insult.
All the hot blood of his race, of Sir Hugh and of

Thurston de Standish,
Boiled and beat in his heart, and swelled in the

veins of his temples.
Headlong he leaped on the boaster, and, snatching

his knife from its scabbard.
Plunged it into his heart, and, reeling backward,

the savage
Fell with his face to the sky, and a fiendlike fierce-
ness upon it.
Straight there arose from the forest the awful

sound of the war-whoop.
And, like a flurry of snow on the whistling wind

of December,

isn

men have
k with the

faces and
i to tree in
set on their
aser the net
iembled and
writ ^n thft
he boast, the
Hugh and of
svelled in the
nd, snatching
g backward,
ndlike fierce-
st the awful
histling wind

COUHTSUIP OF MILES STANDlSIl 335

Swift and sudden and keen came a flight of

feathery arrows.
Then came a cloud of smoke, and out of the cloud

came the lightning,
Out of the lightning thunder ; aud death uiisuen

ran before it.
Frightened the savages fled for shelter in swamp

and in thicket.
Hotly pursued and beset ; but their sachem, the

bravo Wattawamat,
Fled not; he was dead. Unswerving and swift

had a bullet
Passed through his brain, and ho fell with both

hands clutching the greensward.
Seeming in death to hold back from his foe the

land of his fathers.

There on the flowers of the meadow the warriors

lay, and above them,
Silent, with folded arms, sto( I Hobomok, friend

of the white man.
Smiling at length he exclaimed to the stalwart

Captain of Plymouth : —
" Pecksuot bragged very loud, of his courage, his

strength, and his stature, —
Mocked the great Captain, and called him a little

man ; but I see now
Big enough have you been to lay him speechless

before you ! "

Thus the first battle was fought and won by the
stalwart Miles Standish.
When the tidings thereof were brought to the vil-
lage of Plymouth,

336 COURTSHIP OF MILES STANDI SH

And as a trophy of war the head of the brave

Wattawamat
Scowled from the roof of the fort, which at once

was a church and a fortress,
All who beheld it rejoiced, and praised the Lord,

and took courage.
Only Priscilla averted her face from this spectre

of terror,
Thanking God in her heart that she had not mar-
ried Miles Standish ;
Shrinking, fearing almost, lest, coming home from

his battles,
He should !ay claim to her hand, as the prize and

reward of his valor.

VIII.

THE SPINNING-WHEEL.

Month after month passed away, and in Autumn

the ships of the merchants
Came with kindred and friends, with cattle and

corn for the Pilgrims.
All in the village was peace ; the men were intent

on their labors.
Busy with hewing and building, with garden-plot

and with merestead.
Busy with breaking the glebe, and mowing the

grass in the meadows.
Searching the sea for its fish, and hunting the deer

in the forest.
All in the village wa& peace ; but at times the

rumor of warfare

B*»^

ISH

the trave

ch at once

the Lord,

;his spectre

id not mar-

r home from

le prize and

COURTSHIP OF MILES STANDISH 337

Filled the air with alarm, and the apprehension of

danger.
Bravely the stalwart Standish was scouring the

land with his forces,
"Waxing valiant in fight and defeating the alien

armies.
Till his name had become a sound of fear to the

nations.
Anger was still in his heart, but at times the re-
morse and contrition
Which in all noble natures succeed the passionate

outbreak,
Came like a rising tide, that encounters the rush

of a river.
Staying its current awhile, but making it bitter

and brackish.

I in Autumn

h cattle and

were intent

garden-plot

mowing the

tiiOg the deer

at times the

Meanwhile Alden at home had built him a new

habitation.
Solid, substantial, of timber rough-hewn from the

firs of the forest.
Wooden-barred was the door, and the roof was

covered with rushes ;
Latticed the windows were, and the window-panes

were of paper.
Oiled to admit the light, while wind and rain were

excluded.
There too he dug a well, and around it planted an

orchard :
Still may be seen to this day some trace of the

well and the orchard.
Close to the house w as the stall, where, safe and

secure from annoyance,

338 COURTSHIP OF MILES STANDISE

Raghorn, the snow-white oall, that had fallen to

Alden's allotment
In the division of cattle, might ruminate in the

night-time
Over the pastures he cropped, made fragrant by

sweet penuyroyal.

Oft when his labor was finished, with e{<ger feet

would the dreamer
Follow the pathway that ran through the woods to

the house of PrisciUa,
Led by illusions romantic and subtile deceptions of

fancy,
Pleasure disguised as duty, and love in the sem-
blance of friendship.
Ever of her he thought, when he fashioned the

walls of his dwelling ;
Ever of her he thought, when he delved in the soil

of his garden ;
Ever of her he thought, when he read in his Bible

on Sunday
Praise of the virtuous woman, as she is described

in the Proverbs, —
How the heart of her husband doth safely trust in

her always,
How all the days of her life she will do him good,

and not evil.
How she seeketh the wool and the flax and work-

eth with gladness,
How she layeth her hand to the spindle and hold-

eth the distaff,

Line 1. Raghorn, the snow-white steer, that had fallen to Mden's allot-
meut

iMMMM

■ILLiJ.l i aiL il'

■r*

fallen to
te in the
igrant by

e?ger feet
e woods to
sceptions of
n the sem-
ihioned the
1 in the soil
in his Bible
s described
ely trust in
him good,
and work-
e and hold-
to Mden'8 allot-

COURTSHIP OF MILES STANDISH 339

How she is not afraid of the snow for herself or
her household,

Knowing h- household are clothed with the scar-
let cloth of her weaving !

So as she sat at her wheel one afternoon in the
Autumn,

Alden, who opposite sat, and was watching her
dexterous fingers.

As if the thread she was spinning were that of his
life and his fortune.

After a pause in their talk, thus spake to the sound
of the spindle.

" Truly, Priscilla," he said, " when I see you spin-
ning and spinning.

Never idle a moment, but thriftj- and thoughtful
of others,

Suddenly you are transformed, are visibly changed
in a moment \

You are no longer Priscilla, but Bertha the Beau-
tiful Spinner."

Here the light foot on the treadle grew swifter and
swifter ; the spindle

U ered an angry snarl, and the thread snapped
short in her fingers ;

While the impetuous speaker, not heeding the mis-
chief, continued :

"You are the beautiful Bertha, the spinner, the
queen of Helvetia ;

She whose story I read at a stall in the streets of
Southampton,

Who, as she rode on her palfrey, o'er valley and
meadow and mountain.

If'--

340 COURTSHIP OF MILES STANDISH

Ever was spinning her thread from a distaff fixed
to her ^addle.

She was so thrifty and good, that her name passed
into a proverb.

So shall it be with your o\*'n, when the spinning-
wheel shall no longer

Plum in the house of the farmer, and fill its cham-
bers with music.

Then shall the mothers, reproving, relate how it
was in their childhood,

Praising the good old times, and the days of Pris-
cilla the spinner ! "

Straight uprose from her wheel the beautiful Puri-
tan maiden.

Pleased with the praise of her thrift from him
whose praise was the sweetest,

Drew from the reel on the table a snowy skein of
her spinning.

Thus making answer, meanwhile, to the flattering
phrases of Alden :

" Come, you must not be idle ; if I am a pattern
for housewives,

Show yourself equally worthy of being the model
of husbands.

Hold this skein on your hands, while I wind it,
ready for knitting ;

Then who knows but hereafter, when fashions have
changed and the manners.

Fathers may talk to their sons of the good old times
of John Alden ! "

Thus, with a jest and a laugh, the skein on his
hands she adjusted.

He sitting awkwardly there, with his arms ex-
tended before him.

lis arms ex-

COURTSIIIP OF MILES STANDISH 341

She standing graceful, erect, and winding the

thread from his fingers,
Sometimes chiding a little his clumsy manner of

holding.

Sometimes touching his hands, as she disentangled

expertly
Twist or knot in the yam, unawares — for how

could she help it ? —

Sending electrical thrills through every nerve in
his body.

Lo! in the m'dst of this scene, a breatliless

messenger entered,
Bringing in hurry and heat the terrible news from

the village.
Yes ; Miles Standish was dead ! — an Indian had

brought them the tidings, —
Slain by a poisoned arrow, shot down in the front

of the battle.

Into an ambush beguiled, cut off with the whole of
his forces ;

All the town would be burned, and all the people
be murdered !

Such were the tidings of evil that burst on the
hearts of the hearers.

Silent and statue-like stood PrisciUa, her face look-
ing backward

StiU at the face of the speaker, her arms uplifted
in horror ;

But John Alden, upstarting, as if the barb of the

arrow
Piercing the heart of his friend had struck his own,

and had sundered

r-.

342 COURTSHIP OF MILES STANDI SH

Once and forever the bonds that held him bound

as a captive
Wild with excess of sensation, the awful delight of

his freedom,
Mingled with pain and regret, unconscious of what

he was doing,
Clasped, almost with a groan, the motionless form

of Priscilla,
Pressing her close to his heart, as forever his own,

and exclaiming :
" Those whom the Lord hath united, let no man

put them asunder ! "

Even as rivulets twain, from distant and separate

sources.
Seeing each other afar, as they leap from the rocks,

and pursuing
Each one its devious path, but drawing nearer and

nearer.
Bush together at last, at their trysting-place in the

forest ;
So these lives that had run thus far in separate

channels.
Coming in sight of each other, then swerving and

flowing asunder.
Parted by barriers strong, but drawing nearer and

nearer,
Hushed together at last, and one was lost in the

ether.

COURTSHIP OF MILES STANDI SH 343

IX.

THE WEDDING-DAY.

Forth from the curtain of clouds, from the tent
of purple and scarlet,

Issued the sun, the great High-Priest, in his gar-
ments resplendent,

Holiness unto the Lord, in letters of light, on his
forehead,

Round the hem of his robe the golden bells and
pomegranates.

Blessing the world he came, and the bars of vapor
beneath him

Gleamed like a grate of brass, and the sea at his
feet was a laver I

This was the wedding morn of Priscilla the

Puritan maiden.
Friends were assembled together; the Elder and

Magistrate also
Graced the scene with their presence, and stood

like the Law and the Gospel,
One with the sanction of earth and one with the

blessing of heaven.
Simple and brief was the wedding, as that of Kuth

and of Boaz.
Softly the youth and the maiden repeated the

words of betrothal.
Taking each other for husband and wife in the

Magistrate's presence,
After the Puritan way, and the laudable custom of

Holland.

i I i

844 COURTSHIP OF MILES STAN DISH

Fervently then, and devoutly, the excellent Elder

of Plymouth
Prayed for the hearth and the home, that were

founded that day in affection.
Speaking of life and of death, and imploring Divine

benedictionH.

if •

Lot when the service was ended, a form ap-
peared on the threshold,
Clad in armor of steel, a sombre and sorrowful

figure !
Why does the bridegroom start and stare at the

strange apparition ?
Why does the bride turn pale, and hide her face

on his shoulder?
Irf it a phantom of air, — a ' odiless, spectral illusion ?
Is it a ghost from the grave, that has come to

forbid the betrothal ?
Long had it stood there unseen, a guest uninvited,

unwelcomed ;
Over its clouded eyes there had passed at times an

expression
Softening the gloom and revealing the warm heart

hidden beneath them,
As when across the sky the driving rack of the

rain-cloud
Grows for a moment thin, and betrays the sun by

its brightness.
Once it had lifted its hand, and moved its lips, but

was silent.
As if an iron will had mastered the fi.-eting inten-
tion.
But when were ended the troth and the prayer and

the last benediction.

COURTSHIP OF MILES STANDISH 345

Into the room it strode, and the people hehcld
with amazement

Bodily there in his armor Miles Standish, the
Captain of Plymouth I

Grasping the bridegroom's hand, he said wi^L emo-
tion, " Forgive me !

I have been angry and hurt, — too long have I
cherished the feeling ;

I have been cruel and hard, but now, thank God I
it is ended.

Mine is the same hot blood that leaped in the veins
of Hugh Standish,

Sensitive, swift to resent, but as swift in atoning
for error.

Never so much as now was Miles Standish the
friend of John Alden."

Thereupon answered the bridegroom : " Let all be
forgotten between u^, —

AU save the dear, old friendship, and that shall
grow older and dearer I "

Then the Captain advanced, and, bowing, saluted
Priscilla,

Gravely, and after the manner of old-fashioned
gentry in England,

Something of camp and of court, of town and of
country, commingled.

Wishing her joy of her wedding, and loudly laud-
ing her husband.

Then he said with a smile : " I should have remem-
bered the adage, —

If you would be well served, you must serve your-
self ; and moreover.

No man can gather cherries in Kent at the season
of Christmas ! '*

346 COURTSHIP OF MILES STANDISH

Groat was the people's amazement, and greater
yet their rejoicing,

Thus to boliohl once more the sunburnt face of
their Captain,

Whom they had mourned as dead ; and they gath-
ered an ' crowded about him.

Eager to sec him and hear him, forgetful of bride
and of bridegroom,

Questioning, answering, laughing, and each inter-
rupting the other,

Till the good Captain declared, being quite over-
powered and bewildered,

Ho had rather by far break into an Indian en-
campment.

Than come again to a wedding to which he had
not been invited.

Meanwhile the bridegroom went forth and stood

with the bride at the doorway.
Breathing the perfumed air of that warm and

beautiful morning.
Touched with autuumal tints, but lonely and sad

in the sunshine,
Lay extended before them the land of toil and

privation ;
There were the graves of the dead, and the barren

waste of the sea-shore,
There the familiar fields, the groves of pine, and

the meadows ;
But to their eyes transfigured, it seemed as the

Garden of Eden,
Filled with the presence ot God, whose voice was

the sound of the ocean.

COURTSHIP OF MILES STANDI SH 347

Soon waa their viHion disturbed by the noise and

stir of departure,
Friends coming forth from the house, and impatient

of h)wger delaying.
Each with his plan for the day, and the work that

was left uncompleted.
Then from a stall near at hand, amid exclamations

of wonder,
Aiden the thoughtful, the careful, so happy, so

proud of Prijcilla,
Brought out his snow-white bull, obeying the hand

of its master.
Led by a cord that was tied to an iron ring in its

nostrils.
Covered with crimson cloth, and a cushion placed

for a saddle.
She should not walk, he said, through the dust and

heat of the noonday ;
Nay, she should ride like a queen, not plod along

like a peasant.
Somewhat alarmed at first, but reassured by the

others,
Flaci .g her hand on the cushion, her foot in the

hand of her husband,
Gayly, \ith joyous laugh, Priscilla mounted her

paifrey.
" Nothing is wanting now," he said with a smile,

" but the distaff ;
Then you would be in truth my queen, my beauti-
ful Bertha ! "

Line 6. Brought out his snow-white steer, obeying the hand of its
master,

848 COURTSHIP OF MILES STANDISH

(inward the bridal procession now moved to

their new habitation,
Happy husband and wife, and friends conversing

together.
Pleasantly murmured the brook, as they crossed

the ford in the forest.
Pleased with the image that passed, like a dream

of love through its bosom.
Tremulous, floating in air, o*er the depths of the

azure abysses.
Down through the golden leaves the sun was pour-
ing his splendors.
Gleaming on purple grapes, that, from branches

above them suspended.
Mingled their odorous breath with the balm of the

pine and the fir-tree.
Wild and sweet as the clusters that grew in the

valley of Eschol.
Like a picture it seemed of the primitive, pastoral

ages.
Fresh with the youth of the world, and recalling

Rebecca and Isaac,
Old and yet ever new, and simple and beautiful

always.
Love immortal and young in the endless succession

of lovers.
So through the Plymouth woods passed onward

the bridal procession.

SH
moved to

lonversing

)y crossed

:e a dream

ths of the

I was pour-

1 branches

jalm of the

rrew in the

ve, pastoral

d recalling

Id beautiful

succession

,ed onward

NOTES

I. EVANGELINE.

Page 20. List to a Tale of Love in Acadie, home of the
happy.

[lu the earliest reconfa Acadie is called Cadie; afterwards
it was called Arcadia, Accadia, or L'Acadiu. The iiuine is
probably a French adaptation of a word common among the
Micmac Indians, signifying place or region, and used us an
af)lx to other word.<> to indicate the place where various
things, such as cranberries, eels, seals, were found in abun-
dance. The French turned this Indian term into Cadie or
Acadie ; the English into Quoddy, in which form it remains
when applied to the Quoddy Indians, to Quoddy Head, the
last point of the United States next to Acadia, and in the
compound Fassamaquoddy, or Pollock-Ground.]

Page 27. Lucky was he who found that stone in the nest of
the swallow.

" If the eyes of one of the young of a swallow be put out,
the mother bird will bring from the sea-shore a little stone,
which will immediately restore its sight; fortunate is the
person who finds this little stone in the nest, for it is a mi-
raculous remedy." Pluquet, Contes Populaires, quoted by
Wright, Literature and Supcrst'tions of England in the Mid-
dle Ages, 1. 128.

Page 28. " Sunshine of Saint Eulalie " was she called.

8i le Holeil rit le jour Sainte-Eulalie
n y aura ponuues et cidre & folie."

Pi,c<)nBT in WsioHT, 1. 131.

Page 29. Flashed like a plane-tree the Persian adorned with
mantles and jewels.

See Evelyn's Silva, II. 53. [Tl ^ story runs back to He-
rodotus, VII. 31, the " Persian " being Xerxes.]

A .

360

NOTES

t"'

T ^

Page 36. For he told them tales.

[The stories of the Loup-garou, or were-wolf, and the Le-
tiche, apf ■ the miraculous properties of spiders, clover, and
horseshoe^.^ may be found in Plu'^uet, Contea Populaires,
who conjectures that the \^ hit*?, fleet ermine fox gave rise to
the story of the Lc'tiche.^

Page 37. Well J remember a story.

[This is an old Florentine story ; in an altered form it is
the theme of Rossini's opera of La Gazza Ladra.']

Page 41. Tous les Bourgeois de Chartres and Le Carillon
de Dunkerrue.

[In Mr. Longfellow's diary under date of April 29, 1846:
" Looked over the Receuil de Cantiques a Vusage des Mes-
sionSf etc. Quebec, 1833. A curious book, in which the
most ardent spiritual canticles are sung to common airs and
dancing tunes. For instance, — La Mort du Juste: sur
Voir, * On dit que vos parents sont autant de centaures.* Pieux
sentiments envers Je<^us Christ ; sur Voir, ' Des Folies d'Es-'
pagne.* Other airs are Le Carillon de Dunquerque ; Char-
mante Gahrielle ; Tous les Bourgeois de Chartres." This last
was a song written by Ducauroi, maitre de chapelle of Henri
IV., the words of which are: —

Vous coimaiflsez Cybile,
<}ui BUC fixer le Tempa ;
On la diaait fort belle,
Mdme dana aes vieux ana.

CH0BU8.

Cette divinity, qiioique dej& grand 'm^re,
Avait les yeiix doux, le teint fraia
Avait mSme certoina attraita
Fermea comme la Terre.

Le Carillon de Dunquerque was a popular song sung to a
tune played on the Dunkirk chimes. The words are

Imprudent, tem^raire
A riustont, jo I'eap^re
Dana uiou juste courroux,
Tu vaa tomber aous mea coupa !

— Je brave ta menace

— £tre moi ! quelle audace I
Avance done, poltron I

NOTES

351

{uresJ* Pieux

)elle of Henri

Tu trembles 7 non, non, non

— J 'tHouife de colt-re !

— Jo ria de la colore.

The music to \s hich the old man sang these songs may be
found in La Cle du Caveau, by Pierre Capelle, Nos. 564 and
739. Paris: A. CoteUe.]

Page 63. Thou art too fair to be left to braid St. Cather-
ine's tresses.

There is a Norman saying of a maid who does not marry
— Elle restera pour coiffer Sainte Katherine.

Page 66. On the Acadian coasts and the prairies of fair
Opelousas.

[Between the Ist of January and the 13th of May, 1765,
about six hundred and fifty Acadians had arrived at New
Orleans. The existence of a French population there at-
tracted the exiles, and they were sent by the authorities to
form settlements in Attakapas and Opelousas. They after-
ward established themselves on both sides of the Mississippi
from the German Coast to Baton Rouge and even as high
as Pointe Coupde. Hence the name of Acadian Coast, which
a portion of the banks of the river still bears. See Gayarrc's
History of Louisiana, the French Dominion, vol. II.]

Page 100. Presaged by wondrous signs, and mostly by flocks
of mid pigeons.

["Among the country people, large quantities of wild
pigeons in the spring are regarded as certain indications of
an unhealthy summer. Whether or not this prognostication
has ever been verified, I cannot tell. But it is very certain
that during the last spring the number of those birds
brought to market was immense. Never, pcrliaps, were
there so many before." A Memoir of the Yellow Fever in
Philadelphia in 1793. By Matthew Carey. Philadelphia,
1793.]

II. THE SONG OF HIAWATHA.

The Song of Hiawatha. This ludiaii Edda — if I may
so call it — is founded on a tradition, prevalent among the
North American Indians, of a pciisonage of miraculous birth,
who was sent among them to clear their rivers, forests, and

352

NOTES

fishiiig-groiinds, and to teach them the arts of peace. He
was known among diiferent tribes by the several names of
Michabou, Chiabo, Manabozo, Tare nya- wagon, and Hiawa<
tha. Mr. Schoolcraft gives an account of him in his Algic
Researches, vol. I. p. 134 ; and in his History, Condition, and
Prospects of the Indian Tribes of the United States, Part III.
p. 314, may be found the Iroquois form of the tradition,
derived from the verbal narrations of an Onondaga chief.

Into this old tradition I have woven other curious Indian
legends, drawn chiefly from the various and valuabla writ-
ings of Mr. Schoolcraft, to whom the literary world is
greatly indebted for his indefatigable zeal in rescuing from
oblivion so much of the legendary lore of the Indians.

The scene of the poem is among the O jib ways on the
southern shore of Lake Superior, in the region between the
Pictured Kocks and the Grand Sable.

VOCABULARY.

Adjidau'mo, the red squirrel.

Ahdeek', the reindeer.

Ahkose'win, /ever.

Ahmeek', the heaver.

Algon'quin, Ojibway.

Annemee'kee, the thunder.

Apuk'wa, a bulrush.

Baiin-wa'wa, the sound of the thunder.

Bemah'eut, the grapevine.

Be'iia, the pheasant.

BiR-Sea- Water, Lake Superior,

Bukada Mn, famine.

Clieemaun', a birch canoe.

Chetowaik', the plover.

Chibin'bos, a mimician ; friend of Hiawatha ; ruler in the Land of Spirits.

Dahin'da, the buH-fnuj.

Dush-kwo-ue'she, or Kwo-ne'ahe, the dragon-fly.

Esa, shame upon you.

Ewa-yea', lullaby.

Ohee'cis, /Ac sun.

Oitche Ou'me, the Big- Sea- Water, Lake Superior,

Oitclie Man'ito, the Great Spirit, the Master of Life,

Ouslikewau', tlie darkness.

Hiawatha, the Wise Man, the Teacher ; son of Mudjekeewis, the West- Wind.

and Wenonah, d-iuijhter of ffokomis.
\n'goo, a great boaster and story-teller.
luin'cwuK, men, or pawns in the Game of the Bowl,
Ishkoodali', flre ; a comet.
Jee'bi, a ghost, a spirit.
Joaa'akeed, a prophet.

NOTES

858

md (nf Spirits.

L, the Wett-Wind.

Kabihonoklca, the North- Wind.
Kagh, the hedgehog.
Ka'Ko, do not.
KahKohgee', the raven,
Kaw, no.

Kaween', no indeed.
Kayoshk', the sea-gull.
Kee'BO, a fish.

Keeway'din, the yorthice%t- Wind, the Home- Wind.
Kena'beek, a serpent.
Keneu', the great war-eagle.
Keuo'zha, the pickerel.
Ko'ko-ko'ho, the oirl.
Kuiita800', the Game of Plum-stones.
Kwa'sind, the ,'?lroiig M<in.
Kwo-ne'she, or Duah-kwo-iie'ahe, the dragon-fly.
Mahnabbe'zee, the S'can.
Mating, the loon.

Mahn-go-tay'aee, loon-heartel brave.
Mahnoiuo'uee, tcild rice.
Ma'ma, the woodpecker.
Haakeno'zha, the pike.
He'da, a vtedicine-man.
Meenah'ga, the blneberr;/.

Megissog'won, the great Pearl-Feather, a magician and the Manito of Wealth.
Mesliiuau'wa, </ hipe-bearer.
Minjekah'wun, .'iaieathn\s mittens.

Hinneha'ha, Laug.ing Water; a icater/all on a stream running into the Mis-
sissippi, betireen P'^-t .Snrlting and tlie Falls of St, Anthony,
Miiineha'ha, Laughing Water ; wife of Hiawatha.
Minne-wa'wa, « pleasant sound, as of the wind in the trees.
Mishe-MCkwa, the Oreat Bear.
Mishe-Nah'ma, the Oreat Sturgeon.
Miskodeed', the Spring Beauty, the Claytonia Virginica.
Honda'min, Indian Com.
Moon of Bright Niglits, April.
Moon of Leaves, May.
Moon of Strawberries, June.
Moon of the Falliiig Leaves, September.
Moon of Snow-Shoes, November.
Mudjckee'wis, the West- Wind ; father of Hiawatha.
Mudway-aush'ka, sound of waves on a shore.
Mus)ikoda'sa, the grouse.

Na'gow Wudj'oo, the Sand Dunes of Lake Superior.
Nah'ma, the sturgeon.
Nah'ma-wusk, spearmint.
Nee-ba-naw'balg8, irn/rr spirits.
Nenerooo'sha, sn-eetluart.
Nepah'win, sleep.

Noko'mis, .grandmother; vwtht^r of Wenonah.
No'sa, viy father,
Nush'ka, look ! look !
Odah'tnin, the strawberry.
Okalinh'wis, the fresh-water herring.
Ome'inee, the pigeon.
Ona'gcn, a hotel.
Oiiav ay', awake.

354

NOTES

Opc'ohee, (he rohin-

Osmt'o, Hon a/ the Evening Star,

Owaw'sn, the dl'uliird,

Oweenee', iriff nf Ox. ten.

0?.aw:iiMM'k, <i rmittil /lieee of ln-firs or copper in the Game of the Botel.

I'ali-inik-ki'«'im, the ijrasthopptr.

I'au'K'ik. 'li'ilh.

J'liu-l'uk-Kee'wis, (he haml.iomi' ^enadiize, the Storm-Fool.

Paiiwa'tiiiKi -SdiiK SiiiiKi' Martc.

Pii'boaii, Winter.

IVmican. inent of the deer or Oiijf'alo dried and poutidci.

I'ezlieekoe', the bifoii.

Piahiickiih', (he tiraii(.

PoiKt'inah, In n lifter.

PuRUhaiiiK', O'ime if the Roirh

PiiKKawau'giin, a war-club.

Puk-Winlj'if8, little wild men of the troods ; pygmiet.

Sali-pali-jc Willi, mpids.

Sali'wa, the //< reh.

SPB^v\in', .V/'/'ih;/.

8lia'<la, the priiiiin.

Slialibo'niin, thr (jonxeherr;/.

Bhah-shah, loii',i aiio.

BliauKoila'ya, a row.inl.

SliawKa.sliee', thr craw-Ji.ih,

Sliawonda'sce, the South - Wind.

Slmw-Hhaw, the swnllow,

Sliesh'ubwiiB, dtiek.i ; pieces in the Oame of the Bowl.

Shin'gebis, the direr or grebe.

Sliuwaijk' iieiiiu'Hliiu, jdty me.

Sliuh-slmh'Bali, the blue heron.

Soan-ge-ta'lia, strong hearted.

Subbeka'Hhe, the spider.

SuRRe'iuo, the mos(iuito.

To'tam, f a mil n coat of arms.

Vah, lies.

UuuJwasIi', the sun-fish.

Unktalice'. the dud of Water.

Waba»'KO, !he rabbit ; the Xorth.

Wabf'iio, I mn'jirian, a juggler.

Wabc'iio-'fUKk, >i arrow.

Wa-buii, //((■ East - Wiiiil.

Wa'buii Aii'iiuiiK, tlo .Star of (he Eas(, the Morning Star.

Walior.o'wiii, a rri/ of lameulaiion,

Wab-v.-ali-tay'sce, thefre-jlij.

Waiii'i'ii'"- '"''"'•'>' of shell.

Wanbf-'.vy'on, '/ while skin wrapper.

Wa'wa. the Willi goose.

Waw'boi'k, a yoek.

Waw-bf-\v!i ;va, 'he white goose.

WawDiiai '.«, thi whii>iH>orwill.

Way-iiiuk-kwa n,i, the caterpillar.

Wi'ii'iliuooH, giaii'.<.

Wfiio'nali, /liairihh I's mother, daughter of XokoTiis,

Yeiiadi/ 7,c, on idiir and gambler ; an Iw' uii dinu!:,',

[" Suddenly aud iiiuiieus'lj popular in this country, greatly

P
w
n

■Hi

J^OTKS

355

ioiel.

itry, greatly

a<lmiro(l by many foroiprn critics, imitated with perfect case
by any clover school-boy, serving as a model tor metiical
advertisements, made fun of, sneered at, abused, admired,
but, at any rate, a picture full of ploasinjj fancies and melo-
dious ca len(!es. The very names are jewels which the most
fastidious muse might be proud to wear. Coming from the
realm ot the Androicoggin and of Aloosetukmaguntuk, how
could he have found two such delicious nanu^s as Hiawatha
and Minnehaha ? The eight-syllable trochaic verse of Ilia-
watha, Viko the eight-syllable iambic verse of 7'Af Lnibinfthi;
Lake, and others of Scott's poems, has a fatal facility, which
I have elsewhere endeavored to explain on physiological
principles. The recital of each line uses up the air of one
natural expiration, so that we read, a.s we naturally do,
eighteen or twenty lines in a minute, without disturbing the
normal rhythm of breathing, which is also eighteen or twenty
bre.atbs to the minute. The standing objection to this is,
that it makes the octo-syllabic verse too easy writing and too
slipshod reading. Yet in this most frequently criticised
composition the poet has shown a sid)tle sense of the require-
ments of his simple story of a primitive race, in choossing the
most fluid of mcastires, that lets the thought nm th'.ough it
in easy sing-song, such as oral tradition would be suve to find
on the lips of the story-tellers of the wigwam." — Oliver
Wendell Holmes: Remarks at meeting of Massachusetts His-
torical Societif, April 13, 1882.]

Page 114. In the V^ale of Taicasentha.

This vai'^y, now called Norman's Kill, is in Albany
County, New \ork

x'age 116. On the Mountains of the Prairie.

Mr. Catlin, in his Letters and Notes on the Manners, Cus-
toms, anil Condition of the North American Indians, vol. II. j).
100, gives an interesting account of 'die Coteau des Prairies,
and the Red Pipestone C^uarry. He says : —

" Here (according to their traditions) happened the mys-
terious birth of the red pipe, which has blown its fumes of
peace and war to the remotest corners of the continent ;
which has visited every warrioi", and j)assed through its
reddened stem the irrevocable oath of war a; id desolation.

366

NOTES

^■'^..

And here, also, the peace-breathing calumet was born, and
fringed with the eagle's quills, which has shed its thrilling
funics over the land, and soothed the fury of the relentless
savage.

" The (jreat Spirit at an ancient period h re called the
Indian nations together, and, standing on the precipice of
the red pipe-stone rock, broke from its wall a piece, and
n)ade a huge pipe by turning it in his hand, which he smoked
over them, and to the North, the South, the East, and the
West, and told tl"^ni that this stone Wiis red, — that it was
their Hesh, — that tliey umst use it for their pipes of peace,
— that it belonged to thcni all, and that the war-club and
scalpiiig-^'iife nuist not be raised on its ground. At the
last whiff of his [)ipe his hc;id went into a groat cloud, and
the whole surface of tlie rock for sevend miles was melted
and glazed ; two great ovens were opened beneath, and two
women (guardian spirits of the place) entered them in a
blaze of lire; and they are hciird there yet (Tso-mec-cos-tee
and Tso-me-cos-te-won-dee), answering to the invocations of
the high-priests or medicine-men, who considt them when
they are visitors to this sacred place."

Page 123. Hark you, Bear ! you are a cotcard.

This anecdote is from Heckewelder. In his account of
the Indian Nations, he describes an Indian hunter as ad-
dressing a V)ear in nearly these words. " I was present," he
says, "iit the delivery of this curious invective ; when the
iumter had despatched the bear, I asked him how he tlunight
that poor animal could understand what he said to it. ' Oh,'
said he in answer, ' the bear understood me very well ; did
you not observe how anhamed he looked while I was up-
braiding him ? ' " — Transactions of the Atnerican Philosophi-
cal Society, vol. I, p. 240.

Page I'.iS. Hush ! the Naked Rear will hear thee !

Heckewelder, in a letter published in the Transactions of
the American Philosophical Society, vol. IV. p. 260, speaks of
this tradition as prevalent among the Mohicans and Dela-
wares.

"Their reports," he says, "run thus: that among all ani-
mals that had bet;: formerly in this country, this was the

NOTES

357

orn, and
thrilling
elentlcss

lUed the
uipice of
(iece, and
ic smoked
, and the
bat it vra8
I of peace,
•-club and
u At the
cloud, and
fjis melted
h, and two
them in a
iuec-co8-tee
rocations of
them when

I account of
inter as ad-
preseut," he
when the
he thought
oit. 'Oh,'
y well ; did
I was up-
Philosophi-

iee!
usactions of

K), speaks of

IS and Dela-

(long all ani-
this was the

roost ferocious ; that it was much larger than the largest
of the common boars, and renmrkaltly long-bodied ; all
over (except a spot of hair on its back of a white color)
naked. . . .

•' The history of this animal used to be a subject of con-
versation among the Indians, especially when in the woods a
hunting. I have also heard them say to their children when
crying: * Hush ! the naked bear will hear you, be upon you,
and devour you.' "

Page 140. IV here the Falls of Minnehaha, etc.

" The scenery about Fort Snelling is rich in beauty. The
Falls of St. Anthony are familiar to travellers, and to read-
ers of Indian sketches. Hetween tlio fort and tliosc falls are
the * Little Falls,' forty feet in height, on a stream that
empties into the Mississippi. The Indians called them Mine-
hah-hah, or 'laughing waters.'" — Mrs. Eastman's Dacotah,
or Legends of the Sioux, Intro<l. p. ii.

Page 196. Sand Hills of the Xaffoio Wudjoo.

A description ot the Grand Sable, or great sand-dunes of
Lake Superior, is' given in Foster and Whitney's Report on
the Geology of the Lake Superior Land District, Part II. p.
131.

"The Grand Sable possesses a scenic interest little inferior
to that of the Pictured Rocks. The explorer passes abruptly
from a coast of consolidated sand to one of loose materials;
and although in the one case the cliffs are less precipitous,
yet in the other they attain a higher altitude. He sees be-
fore him a long reach of coast, resembling a vast sand-bank,
more than three hundred and fifty feet in height, without a
trat!e of vegetation. Ascending to the top, rounded hil-
locks of blown sand are observed, with occasional clumps of
trees, standing out like oases in the desert."

Page 106. Onaway ! Awake, heloved !

The original of this .song may be found in Littell's Living
Age, vol. XXV. p. 45.

Page *J00. Or the Red Swan floating, flying.

The fanciful tradition of the Red Swan may be found in
Schoolcraft's Algic Researches, vol. II. j). 0. Three brothers
were hunting on a wager to sec who would bring home the
first game.

358

NOTES

" They were to isLoot no other animal," so the legend
says, " but such as each was in the habit of killing. Thi-y
sc^ out *litferent ways; Odjibwa, the youngest, had not gone
far Ijot'oro he saw a bear, an animal he was not to kill, by
the agreement. He followed him close, and drove an arrow
througli him, which brought him to the ground. Although
contrary to the bet, he immediately commenced skinning
him, when suddenly something red tinged all the .air around
him. He nibbed his eyes, thinking' he was perhaps de-
ceived ; but without effect, for the red hue continued. At
length he heard a strange noise at a distance. It first a,\>-
peared like a human voice, but afte: foi'owing the sound for
f-' -e distance, he reached sir , >f ». lake, and soon sa v
the object he was It ..king l .^■ «iiiita.'ice out in the lake

sat a most beautiful lied -^war:, wI;o«.h plumage glittered in
the sun, and who would now ai : thou <kc the same noise
ho had heard. He was within long buw-^'iot, and, pulling
the arrow from the bowstring up to his ear, took deliberate
aim and shot. The arrow took no effect; and he shot and
shot again till his <|uiver was empty. Still the swan remained,
moving round and round, stretching its long neck and dip-
ping its bill into the water, as if heedless of the arrows shot
at it. Odjibwa ran home and got all his own and his broth-
ers' arrows, and shot them all away. He then stood and
gazed at the beautiful bird. While standing, he remembered
his brothers* saying that in their deceased father's medicine-
sack were three magic arrows. Off he started, his anxiety
to kill the swan overcoming all scruples. At any other time
he would have deemed it sacrilege to open his father's modi-
oine-sack ; but now he hastily seized the three arrows and
ran back, leaving the other contents of the sack scattered
ever the lodge. The swan was still there. He shot the first
arrow with great precision, and came very near to it. The
second came still closer ; as he took the last arrow, he felt
his arm firmer, and, drawing it up with vigor, saw it pass
through the neck of the swan a little above the breast. Still
it did not prevent the bird from flying off, which it did, how-
ever, at first slowly, flapping its wings and rising gradually
into the air, and then Hying off toward the sinking of the
Sim." — Pages 10-12.

NOTES

359

ic legend
•g. Th.y
I not gone
;o kill, by
• an arrow

Althongh
1 skinning
air around
L'rhaps de-
nned. At
Lt tirst ai)-
B sound for
ic' soon sa v
in the lake
glittered in
same noise
vnd, pulling
t deliberate
le shot and
m remained,
ick and dip-
I arrows shot
[id his broth-
stood and
remembered

s medieine-

his anxiety
y other time
ither's modi-

•vrrows and
c scattered

ihot the first
to it. The

rrow, he felt
saw it pass

breast. Still
it did, how-
ig gradually

nking of the

siK,'fial gift fr in
quins, who call W
bi'rry, have a pre: >

The original of this song may bo found in Oncd'a, p. 15.

Page 'Jll. Siitg the mysteries of Mondamin.

The Indians hold the maize, or Indian corn, in great ven-
eration. " They r teem it so important and ilivine a grain,"
says Schoolcraft, ' !iat their s<^'jry tellers in . entcd various
tales, in which th. idem is symbol, zfl under the form of a
lie Great Snirit. The Odjibwa-AW ,u-
.on-f'" -min, that is, this Spirit's grain or
sto y of the kind, m which Uie stalk in
full ta^•8el is rep- vseuted as dcsccndii' from the sky, imder
iLe guide of a handsome }(juth, in answ(!r t<> the prayers of a
young man at his fast of virility, or coming to manhood.

" It is well known that corn-planting ivnd corn-gathering,
at least among r.ll the still nncolonized tril)e8, arc left en-
tirely to t^'e females and children, and a few superannuated
old men. It is not generally known, perhaps, that this labor
is not compulsory, and that it is assumed by the females as
a just eipiivalent, in ^heir view, for the onerous and continu-
ous labor of the other sex, in providing meats, and skins for
clothing, by the chase, and in defending their villages af^ainst
their enemic^, .»id keeping intruders off their territories. A
good Indian hor ewife deems this a part of her prerogative,
and prides herself to have a store of corn to exercise her
hospitality, or duly honor her husband's hospitality in the
entertainment of the lodge guests." — Onevta, p. 82.

Page 213. Thus the fields ahalt he more fruitful.

" A singular proof of this belief, in both sexes, of the mys-
terious influence of the steps of a woman on the vegetable
and insect creation, is found in an ancient custom, which was
related to me, respecting corn-planting. It was the practice
of the hunter's wife, when the Held of corn had been planted,
to choose the first dark or overclouded evening to perform a
secret circuit, sans hahillement, around the field. For this
purpose she slipped out of the lodge in the evening, unob-
served, to some obscure nook, where she completely disrobed.
Then, taking her matchecota, or principal garment, in one
hand, she dragged it around the field. This was thought to
insure a prolific crop, and to prevent the assaults of insects

860

NOTES

and worniH upon tho f^rain. It was fluppoflod tlicy could not
cnu'p over the cliai'Mied line." — Onentn, p. 83.

I*aj;<; *J1(5. With hLi privmer-slring he. hound him.

"Tlieso cordH," Hays Mr. Tannur, ** aro made of tho hark
of the ulm-tree, hy hoiliug and then iinniurHinf^ it in eol'!.
water. . . . The leader of a war party commonly carries
seviw-iil fa.stened about his waist, and if, in the course of tho
i\\!;\xi, any one of his youuf; men takes a iirisoner, it is his
duty to hrin^ him imnu'diatfly to the chief, to he tied, and
the latter is responsible for his safe keeping." — Narrative
of Captivity and Adventures, p. 412.

Tagc 'J 18.

Wmjemiii, the thief of rnrnfidda,
Paimomiil , who .ttenls the maize-ear.

" If one of tho young female buskers finds a red car of
corn, it is typical of a brave admirer, and is regarded as a
fitting present to some young warrior, liut if tho ear be
crooked f and tapering to a point, no matter what color, the
whole circle is set in a roar, and wa-ge-min is the word
shouted aloud. It is the symbol of a thief in tho cornfield.
It is considered as the image of an old man stooping as he
enters the lot. Had the chisel of Praxiteles been employed
to produce this image, it could not more vividly bring to tho
minds of the merry group the idea of a pilferer of their
favorite monddmin. . . .

" The literal meaning of the term is, a mass, or crooked
car of grain ; but the ear of corn so called is a conventional
type of a little old man pilfering ears of corn in a cornfield.
It is in this manner that a single word or term, in these
curious languages, becomes the fruitful parent of many
ideas. And we can thus perceive why it is that the word
warjemin is alone conjpetent to excite merriment in the husk-
ing circle.

" This term is taken as a basis of the cereal chorus, or
corn song, as sung by the Northern Algonquin tribes. It is
coupled with the phrase Paimosaid, — a permutative form
of the Indian substantive, niade from the verb pim-o-sa, to
walk. Its literal meaning is, he who walks, or the walker ;
but the ideas conveyed by it are, he who walks by night to

NOTES

861

ould not

tho bark
it in col*'^
ly carrit'H
rse of tho
, it is his
s tied, ami
. Narrative

red car of
;iirdc(l as a
tho ear bo
t color, tho
s tho word
le cornfield,
oping as h-
n employed
bring to tho
rer of their

], or crooked
ionventional
a cornfield,
■m, in these
it of muny
at the word
lin the husk-

Ll chorus, or
Iribes. It is
Itative form

pim-o-sa, to
I the walker;

by night to

pilfer corn. It offers, therefore, a kind of parnllelisnt in
expression to tho preceding term." — Oneilta, p. 254.

Pagt! "SXi. I'ugasainff, irith thirteen pii cea.

This (fumo of tho bowl is tho prinuipid game of hazard
among the Northern tribes of Indiana. Mr. Schoolcraft
gives a particular account of it in Omota, p. 85. " This
game," ho snys, " is very fascinating to some portions of the
Indians. They stake at it their ornaments, weapons, clothing,
canoes, horses, evervthiiig in fact they possess ; and have
been known, it is said, to set up their wives and children,
and even to forfeit their own liberty. Of rtuch desperate
stakes I have seen no examples, nor do I think the game it-
self in common use. It is rather confined to certain persons,
who hold the relative rank of gamblers in Indian society, — '
men who are not noted as hunters or warriors, or steady
providers for their families. Among these are persons who
bear the term of lenadizzn-ivug, that is, wanderers about tlio
country, bmggadocios, or fops. It can hardly Ik; classed
with tho popular games of amusement, by which skill and
dexterity are acquired. I have generally found the chiefs
and graver men of tho tril)es, who encouraged tho young
men to play ball, and are sure to bo present at the custom-
ary sports, to witness, and sanction, and applaud them,
speak lightly and disparagingly of this game of 'lazard.
Yet it cannot bo denied that some of tho chiefs, distin-
guished in war and tho ohase, at tho West, can bo referred
to as lending their example to its fascinating power."

See also his History, Conditions, and Prospects of the Indian
Tribes, Part II. p. 72.

Page 248 To the Pictured Rocks of sandstone.

Tho reader will find a long description of the Pictured
Rocks in Foster and Whitney's Report on the Geology of the
Lake Superior Land District, Part II. p. 124. From this I
make tho following extract : —

" The Pictured Hocks may be described, in general terms,
as a scries of sandstone blulTs extending along the shore of
Lake Superior for about five miles, and rising, in most
places, vertically from the water, without any beach at the
base, to a height varying from fifty to nearly two hundred

862

NOTES

feet. WtTO they Hiinply a lirjo of cliffs, thoy might not, bo
far aH ruhites tu huigiit or extent, bo worthy of a rank
ainonf;; great natural eurioHitieH, although such an a«8ein>
bhigu of rouky btrata, .vatthed by the waveH of the great lake,
would not, under any uircuniHtiinces, Im; deHtitutu of gran-
deur. To the voyager, ecaating along their bane in hiti frail
Ciinoc, they would, at all times, bo an ubjeet of dread ; the
reooil of the Hurf, the rock-bound coast, atfording for miles
no ploco of refuge, — the lowering Hky, the rising wind, -- uU
these would excite his apprehension, and induce him to ply
a vigorous oar until the ilreaded wall was passed. But in
the I'i'jtured Rocks there arc two features whiuh comma-
nicato to the scenery a wonderful and almost unique ehar>
ai'ter. These are, first, the curious manner in which the
elitfs have been excavated and worn away by the action of
the lake, which, for centuries, has daslied an ocean-like surf
against tlicir base ; and, second, the equally curious manner
in which large portions of the surface have been colored
by bands of brilliant hues.

"It is from the latter circumstance that the name, by
which these cliffs are known to the American traveller, is
derived ; while that applied to them by the French voya-
geurs (< Les Portails ') is derived from the former, and by
far the most striking peculiarity.

" The term Pictured Rocks has been in use for a great
length of time ; but when it was first applied, we have been
unable to discover. It would seem that the first travellers
were more impressed with the novel and striking distribu-
tion of colors on the surface than with the astonishing
variety of form into which the cliffs themselves have been
worn. . . .

" Our voyttgeurs had many legends to relate of the pranks
of the Menni-bojoH in these caverns, and, in answer to our
incjuiries, seemed disposed to fabricate stories, without end,
of the acliievenients of this Indian deity."

Page 27G. Toward the sun his hands were lifted.

In this manner, and with such salutations, was Father
^Inrcpiettc received by the Illinois. Sde his Voyages et De-
couvertes, Section V.

NOTES

86G

t not, no
a rouk

:eat lake,
of gran-
1 hiH frail
•cad ; tbo
for miles
ind, --• all
lini to ply
i. But in
li ooinmii-
iqtio char-
whicli the
I action of
,n-Uko surf
us manner
eu colored

( name, by
traveller, is
■ench voya-
fier, and by

for a great

have been

it travellers

ig distribu-

astonishing

have been

the pranks
swer to our
kthout end,

^as Father
jages et De-

III. THE COURTSHIP OF MILES STANDISH.

Aspinet, Samnsft, Corhitnntf Stjuanto, or Toka-
Indians who are mentioned in the early

i'ugo 288.
tnahamon.

[Names of
chronitlcH.]

Pago 280, liariffi'st Artillenj dnUle.

[The elaborate title of Standish's military book was :
MilUarif Discipline; or the Young Artillery Mnn, Wherein m
Disconrsed and Shntini the Postures, both of Musket and Pike,
the exactest way, ^•r., Together irith the Exercise of the Foot
in their Motions, with much variety : As also, diverse an<l
several Forms for the Imbattcling small or great Hodies de-
monstrated by the number of a single Company with their
Keducements. Very necessary for all such as are Studious
in the Art Military. Whereunto is also added the Postures
and Beneflciall Use of the Ilalfe-Pike joyued with the Mus-
ket. With the way to draw up the Swedish Brigade. By
Colonel William Barriffe. Barriife was a Puritan, and ad-
ded to his title-page : " Psalmes 144 : 1. Blessed bo the
Lord my Strength which teachoth my hands to warre and
my Angers to fight."]

Page 290. Full of the name and the fame of the Puritan
maiden Priscilla.

[Among the names of the Mayflower company are those
of " Mr. William MuUinos and his wife, and 2 children,
Joseph and Priscila ; and a servant, Robart Carter."]

I 'ago 293. She is alone in the world.

[" Mr. Molines, and his wife, his sono and his ser^'aut,
dyed the first winter. Only his daughter Priscila survived
and married with John Alden, who are both living and have
11 children." — Bradford: History of Plymouth Plantation.^

Page 298. Gathering still, as he went, the Mayflowers
blooming around him.

[The Mayflower is the well-known Epigcea repens, some-
times also called the Trailing Arbutus. The name Mayflower
was familiar in England, as the appu ition of it to the his-
toric vessel shows, but it was applied hy the English, and

364

NOTES

still is, to tho hawthorn. Its use here in connection with
epigma rcpens dates from a very early day, some claiming
that the first Pilgrims so used it, in affectionate memory of
tho vessel and its English flower association.]

Page 208. Singing the hundredth Psalm.

[The words in the version which Pri.scilla used sound
somewhat rude to modern ears, but the music is sub-
stantially what we know as Old Hundred. Ainsworth be-
came a Brownist in litOO, suffered persecution, and found
refuge in Holland, where he published learned commentaries
and translations. His version of Psalm c. is as follows : —

1. Row to Jt'liovali, all thn rartli.

2. Serve yt; .Ichnvah witli Riailiipsa ; l>efore him coino with ainning mirth.

3. Know that Ji*hovali he (}(m1 ia. It 'a lie that iiuulu lu aud uot wo, hia

ttoc'll aild alieep of hia (umliiiK.

4. Oh, with fonfKKHioii enter y« hia gaiea, hia coartyard with praiaiiiK.

Confeaa to liiiii, l>leBH ye hia iiiime.
C. IkH-auHu Jehovali he good ia ; >iia luurcy ever ia the aaiiie, and hia faith
unto all agea.]

Page 299. IVhile with her foot on the treadle she guided the
wheel in its motion.

[Mr. Longfellow received a number of letters questioning
his description of Priscilla's wheel, upon the ground that
while she wtis spinning wool, the motions and apparatus
were applicable only to flax. He examined the question
carefully, especially with the aid of his friend Mr. Charles
Kolsom, and as a considerable number of authorities made
it appear that wool wiis spun upon the small treadle-wheel
in (iurmany and the Low Countries, the lines were suffered
to remain as they stoo<l. Mr. Folsom suggested to the poet
the following revision : —

Piled at her knee, her left hand feedini; the ravenous iiplndle,

Wliile with her right hand alio aped and atayed the wheel in its motion.]

Page 305. Back to Hugh Standiih of Duxhury Hall.

[" Tlicre are at this time in England two ancient families
of the name, one of Standish Hall, and the other of Dux-
bury Park, both in Lancashire, who trace their descent from
a common ancestor, Ralph do Standish, living in 1221.
There scorns always to have boon a miliUiry spirit in the
family. Froissart, relating in his Chronicles the memorable

NOTES

365

3n with
laiming
aiory of

i sound
is 8ub-
orth be-
nd found
nentaries
lows : —

iging mirth,
not we, hU

ith praising.

uid his faith

guided the

juestioning
round that
[ apparatus
le tiuestion
Charles
rities made

adle-wheel
re suffered

to the poet

Ita motion.l

Hall

snt families
er of I)u*-
cacent from
^ in 1221.
pirit in the
memorable

meeting between Richard II. and Wat Tyler, says that after
the relK'l was struck from his horse by William Walworth,
' then a squycr of the kyngcs alyted, called iJohn Stan-
dysshc, and he drewe out his sworde, and put into Wat
Tyler's belye, and so ho dyed.' For this act Staudish wsis
knighted. In 1415 another Sir John Staudish fought at the
battle of Agincourt. From his giving tiic name of Duxbiiry
to the town where he settled, near Plymouth, and calling
his eldest sou Alexander (a common name in the Staudish
family), I have no doubt that Miles was a scion from this
ancient and warlike stock." — Young's Chronicles of the Pil-
grims, foot-note, p. 125.]

Page 312. GtMi has si/ted three kingdoms to Jintl the wheat
for thit planting.

[In Stoughtim's Election Sermon of 1668 occurs the first
use, apparently, of this oft-quoted phrase: "GikI sifted a
whole nation that he might send a choice grain over into
this wilderness."]

Page 313. And beside it outstretched the skin of a rattle-
snake glittered.

[As a matter of hi.stor}', the first recorded instance of the
rattlesnake skin challenge was in January, 1622, when Tis-
quantum the Indian brought a defiance from Canonicus, and
the governor returned the skin stuffed with bidlets.]

Page 313. Judging it wise and well that some at least were
converted.

[The poet here uses the sentiment of John Robinson when
he wrote to the colonists after the first encounter with the
Indians : " Oh, how happy a thing iiad it l)een, if yt)U had
converted some before you had killed anj' ! "]

Page 319. With Stephen and Richard and Gilbert.

[These names are not taken at random. Stephen Hop-
kins, Richard Warren, and OillM'rt Winslow were all among
the Mayflower passengers, -md were alive at this tinuv]

Page 322.
Rounded the point of the Gurnet, and leaving far to the south-
ward
Island and cape of snnd, and the Field of the First Fnrnuuter.

[The Gurnet, or Gurnet's Nose, is a headland connecting

866

NOTES

fit 'y',i

with Marshfleld by a beach about seven miles long. On its
soutlicrn extremity arc two light-houses which light the en •
trance to Plymouth Harbor. *' So after we bad given God
thanks for our deliverance, we took our shallop and went on
our journey, and called the place The First £ncounter."
Bradford and VViuslow's Journal in Young's Chronicles,
p. 159. The place on the Eastham shore was the spot where
the Pilgrims had their first encounter with the Indiant;, De-
cember 8, 1620. A party under Miles Standish was ex-
ploring the country while the Mayflower was at anchor iu
Provincetown Harbor.]

Page 331. After a three days' march.

[Mr. Longfellow took his material for this expedition of
Stnndish's from the report in Winslow's Relation of Slan-
dLih's Expedition nyuinst the Indians of Weymouth and the
breaking up of Weston\<t Colony at that place, in March, 1G23,
a.s given in Dr. Young's Chronicles.^

Page 337. Still may be seen to this day some trace of the
well and the orchard.

[The Alden family retain John AbLen's homestead in
Duxbury, and the present house is said to stand on the site
of the one originally built there.]

Page 339. You are the beautiful Bertha.

[For further account of Bertha the Spinner, see the vol-
unn' of this edition containing Outre-Mer and Drift -Woofi,
pp L'77-'28L>.1

Page 343. After the Puritan way, and the laudable custom
of Holland.

[" May 12 was the flrst marriage in this place, which, ac-
cording to the laudable custome of the Low-Cuntries, ii.
which tlicy had lived, was tJiought most requisite to be per-
formed by the magistrate, as being a civill thing, upon
which many questions abouto inheritances doe depende,
with other things most proper to tlieir cognizans, and most
cousonantc to tlu; scripturs, Ruth 4, and no wher found in
the gospcll tu be layed on the ministers as a part of their
oniee." — Bradforcl : History of Plymouth Plantation, p.
lOl.J

r. On its
it the en-
liven God
id went on
ncounter."
Chronicles,
spot where
dianr, I)e-
h was ex-
anchor in

jedition of
I of Sfan-
\th and the
mh, 1023,

race of the

inostead in
un the site

ice the vol-

H-i/t-Wood,

able custom

, which, ac-
I!untries, ic
J to be per-
hing, upon
e depende,
i, and most
er found in
%Ti of their
antation, p.