time, Making hollows in the snowdrifts. Till at last he rose defeated, Could not bear the heat and laughter, Could not bear the merry singing, But rushed headlong through the doorway,

Stamped upon the crusted snowdrifts,

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 back-
ward,

And retreated, baffled, beaten,
To the kingdom of Wabasso,
To the land of the White Rabbit,
Hearing still the gusty laughter,
Hearing Shingebis, the diver,
Singing, "O Kabibonokka,
You are but my fellow-mortal!"
Shawondasee, fat and lazy,
Had his dwelling far to southward,
In the drowsy, dreamy sunshine,
In the never-ending Summer.
He it was who sent the wood-birds,
Sent the Opechee, the robin,
Sent the blue-bird, the Owaissa,
Sent the Shawshaw, sent the swal-
low,

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 All alone upon a prairie; Brightest green were all her gar

ments

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 long-
ing

For the maid with yellow tresses.
But 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 north-
ward,

He beheld her yellow tresses Changed and covered o'er with whiteness,

Covered as with whitest snowflakes. "Ah! my brother from the North

land,

From the kingdom of Wabasso, From the land of the White Rabbit! 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 Northland!"

Thus the wretched Shawondasee

ward,

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,

And the South-Wind o'er the prairie Wandered warm with sighs of pas

sion

With the sighs of Shawondasee, Till the air seemed full of snow. flakes,

Full of thistle-down the prairie, And the maid with hair like sun shine

Vanished from his sight forever ;
Nevermore did Shawondasee

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 grapevines,
When her rival, the rejected,
Full of jealousy and hatred,
Cut the leafy swing asunder,
Cut in twain the twisted grapevines,
And Nokomis fell affrighted
Downward through the evening
twilight,

On the Muskoday, the meadow,
On the prairie full of blossoms.
"See ! a star falls !" said the people;
"From the sky a star is falling!'
There among the ferns and mosses,
There among the prairie lilies,
On the Muskoday the meadow,
In the moonlight and the starlight,
Fair Nokomis bore a daughter.
And she called her name Wenonah,1

Now spelled Winona, but should be pronounced as above.

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, "Ö, beware of Mudjekeewis, Of the West- Wind, Mudjekeewis; 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 came at evening,

Walking lightly o'er the prairie, Whispering to the leaves and blos

soms,

Bending low the flowers and grasses,
Found the beautiful Wenonah,
Lying there among the lilies,
Wooed her with his words of sweet-

ness,

Wooed her with his soft caresses,
Till she bore a son in sorrow,
Bore a son of love and sorrow.

Thus was born my Hiawatha,
Thus was born the child of wonder;
But the daughter of Nokomis,
Hiawatha's gentle mother,
In her anguish died deserted
By the West-Wind, false and faith-
less,

By the heartless Mudjekeewis.

For her daughter, long and loudly Wailed and wept the sad Nokomis ; “O that I were dead!" she mur mured,

O that I were dead, as thou art! No more work, and no more weeping,

Wahonowin! Wahonowin ! "2

By the shores of Gitche Gumee,3 By the shining Big-Sea-Water, Stood the wigwam of Nokomis. Daughter of the Moon, Nokomis, Dark behind it rose the forest,

A cry of lamentation. Lake Superior.

Rose the black and gloomy pinetrees,

Rose 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 get
thee !"

Lulled him into slumber, singing,
Ewa-yea! my little owlet!

Who is this, that lights the wigwam? With his great eyes lights the wig

wam ?

Ewa-yea 12 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 warclubs,

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 shad-

Ows.

At the door on Summer evenings

1 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 Delawares.

"Their reports," he says, "run thus: that among all animals had been formerly in this country, this was the most ferocious; that it was much larger than the largest of the common bears, and remarkably 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 conversation 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 de

vour you.'"

2 Lullaby.

Sat the little Hiawatha; Heard the whispering of the pine trees,

Heard the lapping of the water, Sounds of music, words of wonder; Minne-wawa !" said the pine trees, Mudway-aushika !" said the water. Saw the fire-fly. Wah-wah-tay see, 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-tay see, little firefly,
Little, flitting, white-fire insect,
Little, dancing, white-fire creature,
Light me with your little cradle,
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

Learned of every bird its language, Learned their names and all their secrets,

How they built their nests in Sum

mer,

Where they hid themselves in Winter,

Talked with them whene'er he met them, Called them

ens."

Hiawatha's Chick

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 ar-
rows,

Tipped with flint, and winged with feathers,

And the cord he made of deer-skin.
Then he said to Hiawatha :
"Go, my son, into the forest,
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 Opechee, the robin,
Sang the bluebird, the Owaissa,
"Do not shoot us, Hiawatha !"

Up the oak tree, close beside him, Sprang the squirrel, Adjidaumo, In and out among the branches, Coughed and chattered from the oaktree, 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 to 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 shad-

OW.

And his heart within him fluttered,
Trembled like the leaves 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 mo-
tion,

Scarce a leaf was stirred or rustled,
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 Iagoo 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 in his honor. All the village came and feasted, All the guests praised Hiawatha,

Called him Strong-Heart,

getaha!

Called him Loon-Heart, Mahn-gotaysee!

IV.

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.

Swift of foot was Hiawatha ;
He could shoot an arrow from him,
And run forward with such fleet-

ness,

That the arrow fell behind him!
Strong of arm was Hiawatha ;
He could shoot ten arrows upward,
Shoot them with such strength and
swiftness,

That the tenth had left the bowstring
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 stride 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,
"I 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 hunt

ing;

Warning said the old Nokomis, Go not forth, O Hiawatha ! 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!"

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 close 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 Esconawbaw,1
Crossed the mighty Mississippi,
Passed the Mountains of the Prairie,
Passed the land of Crows and Foxes,
Passed the dwellings of the Black-
feet,

Came unto the Rocky Mountains,
To the kingdom of the West-Wind,
Where upon the gusty summits
Sat the ancient Mudjekeewis,
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,

1 The Escanoba is on the upper Peninsula of Michigan and empties into Green Bay of Lake Michigan.