The Song of Hiawatha

And they laughed till all the forest

Rang with their unseemly laughter.

"On their pathway through the woodlands

Lay an oak, by storms uprooted,

Lay the great trunk of an oak-tree,

Buried half in leaves and mosses,

Mouldering, crumbling, huge and hollow.

And Osseo, when he saw it,

Gave a shout, a cry of anguish,

Leaped into its yawning cavern,

At one end went in an old man,

Wasted, wrinkled, old, and ugly;

From the other came a young man,

Tall and straight and strong and handsome.

"Thus Osseo was transfigured,

Thus restored to youth and beauty;

But, alas for good Osseo,

And for Oweenee, the faithful!

Strangely, too, was she transfigured.

Changed into a weak old woman,

With a staff she tottered onward,

Wasted, wrinkled, old, and ugly!

And the sisters and their husbands

Laughed until the echoing forest

Rang with their unseemly laughter.

"But Osseo turned not from her,

Walked with slower step beside her,

Took her hand, as brown and withered

As an oak-leaf is in Winter,

Called her sweetheart, Nenemoosha,

Soothed her with soft words of kindness,

Till they reached the lodge of feasting,

Till they sat down in the wigwam,

Sacred to the Star of Evening,

To the tender Star of Woman.

"Wrapt in visions, lost in dreaming,

At the banquet sat Osseo;

All were merry, all were happy,

All were joyous but Osseo.

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 magicians,

All the magic powers of evil;

Come to me; ascend, Osseo!

"'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 wampum,

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,

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 Wawonaissa

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,

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 thistledown 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!

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,

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 himself 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,

Fluttering, falling, wafted downward,

Like the painted leaves of Autumn;

And the lodge with poles of silver,

With 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 not 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

On 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 Iagoo 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!"

All the wedding guests delighted

Listened to the marvellous story,

Listened laughing and applauding,

And they whispered to each other:

"Does he 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! think of my beloved,

When my heart is thinking of him,

O my sweetheart, my Algonquin!

"Ah me! when I parted from him,

Round 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!'

'Far away, away,' I answered,

'Very far away,' I answered,

'Ah me! is my native country,

O my sweetheart, my Algonquin!'

"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,

By the fallen tree was standing,

That had dropped into the water,

O my sweetheart, my Algonquin!

"When I think of my beloved,

Ah me! think of my beloved,

When my heart is thinking of him,

O my sweetheart, my Algonquin!"

Such was Hiawatha's Wedding,

Such the dance of Pau-Puk-Keewis,

Such the story of Iagoo,

Such the songs of Chibiabos;

Thus the wedding banquet ended,

And the wedding guests departed,

Leaving Hiawatha happy

With the night and Minnehaha.

XIII

Blessing the Cornfields

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,

Caught the fish in lake and river,

Shot the deer and trapped the beaver;

Unmolested worked the women,

Made their sugar from the maple,

Gathered wild rice in the meadows,

Dressed the skins of deer and beaver.

All around the happy village

Stood the maize-fields, green and shining,

Waved the green plumes of Mondamin,

Waved his soft and sunny tresses,

Filling all the land 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 the 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,

When the Spirit of Sleep, Nepahwin,

Shuts the doors of all the wigwams,

So that not an ear can hear you,

So that not an eye can see you,

Rise up from your bed in silence,

Lay aside your garments wholly,

Walk around the fields you planted,

Round the borders of the cornfields,

Covered by your tresses only,

Robed with darkness as a garment.

"Thus the fields shall be more fruitful,

And the passing of your footsteps

Draw a magic circle round them,

So that neither blight nor mildew,

Neither burrowing worm nor insect,

Shall pass o'er the magic circle;

Not the dragon-fly, Kwo-ne-she,

Nor the spider, Subbekashe,

Nor the grasshopper, Pah-puk-keena;

Nor the mighty caterpillar,

Way-muk-kwana, with the bear-skin,

King of all the caterpillars!"

On the tree-tops near the cornfields

Sat the hungry crows and ravens,

Kahgahgee, the King of Ravens,

With his band of black marauders.

And they laughed at Hiawatha,

Till the tree-tops shook with laughter,

With their melancholy laughter,

At the words of Hiawatha.

"Hear him!" said they; "hear the Wise Man,

Hear the plots of Hiawatha!"

When the noiseless night descended

Broad and dark o'er field and forest,

When the mournful Wawonaissa

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 guarded,

Unashamed and unaffrighted,

Walked securely round the cornfields,

Drew the sacred, magic circle

Of her footprints round the cornfields.

No one but the Midnight only

Saw her beauty 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, fast 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,

Ever thoughtful, careful, watchful,

Had o'erheard the scornful laughter

When they mocked him from the tree-tops.

"Kaw!" he said, "my friends the ravens!

Kahgahgee, my King of Ravens!

I will teach you all a lesson

That shall not be soon forgotten!"

He had risen before the daybreak,

He had spread o'er all the cornfields

Snares to catch the black marauders,

And was lying now in ambush

In the neighboring grove of pine-trees,

Waiting for the crows and blackbirds,

Waiting for the jays and ravens.

Soon they came with caw and clamor,

Rush of wings and cry of voices,

To their work of devastation,

Settling down upon the cornfields,

Delving deep with beak and talon,

For the body of Mondamin.

And with all their craft and cunning,

All their skill in wiles of warfare,

They perceived no danger near them,

Till their claws became entangled,

Till they found themselves imprisoned

In the snares of Hiawatha.

From his place of ambush came he,

Striding terrible among them,

And so awful was his aspect

That the bravest quailed with terror.

Without mercy he destroyed them

Right and left, by tens and twenties,

And their wretched, lifeless bodies

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 ardor,

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,

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,

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 pine-trees!

XIV

Picture-Writing

In those days said Hiawatha,

"Lo! how all things fade and perish!

From the memory of the old men

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!

"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,

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.

Gitche 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,

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 follow 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 was 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

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!

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.

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, my 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,

Saying, "Though you were far from me

In the land of Sleep and Silence,

Still the voice of love would reach you!"

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 the birch-tree,

On the white skin of the reindeer,

On the grave-posts of the village.

XV

Hiawatha's Lamentation

In those days 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,