图书图片
PDF
ePub

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,

[ocr errors]

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, Rent it into shreds and splinters, Left it lying there 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,

1 The 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 the following extract :

"The Pictured Rocks may be described in general terms, as a series of sandstone, bluffs 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 feet. Were they simply a line of cliffs they might not, so far as relates to height or extent, be worthy of rank among great natural curiosities, although such an assemblage of rocky strata, washed by the waves of the great lake, would not, under

[blocks in formation]

any circumstances, be destitute of grandeur. To the voyager coasting along their base in his frail canoe they would at all times be an object of dread; the recoil of the surf, the rock-bound coast affording for miles no place of refuge, the lowering sky, the rising wind, all these would excite his apprehension, and induce him to ply a vigorous oar until the dreaded wall was passed. But in the Pictured Rocks there are two features which communicate to the scenery a wonderful and almost unique character. These are first, the curious manner in which the cliffs have been excavated and worn away by the action of the lake, which for centuries has dashed an ocean. like surf against their 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 voyagers (Les Portals') 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 distribution of colors on the surface than with the astonishing variety of form into which the cliffs them. selves have been worn. . . .

"Our voyagers had many legends to relate of the pranks of the Menni-bojou in these caverns, and in answer to our inquiries, seemed disposed to fabricate stories without end of the achievements of this Indian deity."

[merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][ocr errors][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small]

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 new adventures;

Never more with jest and laughter Dance the dust and leaves in whirlwinds;

But above there in the heavens
You shall soar and sail in circles;
I will change you to an eagle,
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

[ocr errors]
[blocks in formation]

"If this great, outrageous fellow
Goes on thus a little longer,
Tearing everything he touches,
Rending everything to pieces,
Filling all the world with wonder,
What becomes of the Puk- Wudjies!
Who will care for the Puk-Wud-
jies?

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 | O'er the drowsy head of Kwasind.

Kwasind

In his crown alone was seated;
In his crown, too, was his weakness;
There alone could 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 mortals;
But the cunning Little People,
The Puk-Wudjies, 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, In the woods by Taquamenaw, Brought them to the river's margin, Heaped them in great piles together, Where the red rocks from the margin

Jutting overhang the river.

There they lay in wait for Kwasind, The malicious Little People.

'Twas 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 overhanging branches,
From the tassels of the birch-trees,
Soft the Spirit of Sleep descended;
By his airy hosts surrounded,
His invisible attendants,

Came the Spirit of Sleep, Nepahwin; Like the burnished Dush-kwo-ne

she,

Like a dragon-fly he hovered

To his ear there came a murmur
As of waves upon a seashore,
As of far-off tumbling waters,
As of wind among the pine-trees;
As he felt upon his forehead
Blows of little airy war-clubs,
Wielded by the slumbrous legions
Of the Spirit of Sleep, Nepahwin,
As of some one breathing on him.

At the first blow of their war-clubs,
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 sud

[ocr errors]

den

War-cry of the Little People.

And he sideways swayed and tumbled,

Sideways fell into the river, Plunged beneath the sluggish

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 Kwasınd.
But the memory of the Strong
Man

Lingered long among the people,
And whenever through the forest
Raged and roared the wintry tem-
pest,

And the branches, tossed and troubled,

Creaked and groaned and split asunder,

"

'Kwasind!" cried they; "that is | For the steps of Hiawatha

Kwasind!

He is gathering in his firewood !"

XIX.

THE GHOSTS.

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 lookout,
Sees the downward plunge, and fol-
lows;

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
Round their victim, sick

wounded,

and

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,
Breathing on the lakes and rivers,
Into stone had 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 hands had smoothed them

[blocks in formation]

Homeward from the hunt returning. On their faces gleamed the firelight,

Painting them with streaks of crim

[blocks in formation]

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 swerved the smokewreath,

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 gar-
ments,

Strangers seemed they in the village;

Very pale and haggard were they,
As they sat there sad and silent,
Trembling, cowering with

shadows.

the

[merged small][merged small][merged small][ocr errors]

These are corpses clad in garments,

These are ghosts that come to haunt

you,

From the kingdom of Ponemah, From the land of the Hereafter!"

Homeward now came Hiawatha From his 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 stran-
gers,

Cowering, crouching with the

shadows,

Said within himself, "Who are they?

What strange guests has Minne

haha ?"

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.

[ocr errors]

Came from fishing or from hunting,
When the evening meal was ready,
And the food had been divided,
Gliding from their darksome corner,
Came the pallid guests, the stran-
gers,

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 stran-
ger,

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 burn-
ing,

By the glimmering, flickering fire-
light,

Heard a sighing, oft repeated,
Heard a sobbing, as of sorrow.

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 fam-Sitting upright on their couches,

From his couch rose Hiawatha, From his shaggy hides of bison, Pushed aside the deerskin curtain, Saw the pallid guests, the shadows,

ished;

Let them do what best delights them;

Weeping in the silent midnight.

And he said: "O guests! why is it That your hearts are so afflicted, Let them eat, for they are famished." That you sob so in the midnight? Many a daylight dawned and dark-Has perchance the old Nokomis, Has my wife, my Minnehaha, Wronged or grieved you by unkind

ened,

Many a night shook off the daylight
As the pine shakes off the snow-
flakes

From the midnight of its branches;
Day by day the guests unmoving
Sat there silent in the wigwam;
But by night, in storm or starlight,
Forth they went into the forest,
Bringing firewood to the wigwam,
Bringing pine cones for the burning,
Always sad and always silent.

And whenever Hiawatha

[merged small][merged small][ocr errors][merged small][merged small][merged small]
« 上一页继续 »