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| IN his lodge beside a river, | |
| Close beside a frozen river, | |
| Sat an old man, sad and lonely. | |
| White his hair was as a snow-drift; | |
| Dull and low his fire was burning, | 5 |
| And the old man shook and trembled, | |
| Folded in his Waubewyon, | |
| In his tattered white-skin-wrapper, | |
| Hearing nothing but the tempest | |
| As it roared along the forest, | 10 |
| 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, | 15 |
| 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, | 20 |
| On his lips a smile of beauty, | |
| Filling all the lodge with sunshine, | |
| In his hand a bunch of blossoms | |
| Filling all the lodge with sweetness. | |
| “Ah, my son!” exclaimed the old man, | 25 |
| “Happy are my eyes to see you. | |
| Sit here on the mat beside me, | |
| Sit here by the dying embers, | |
| Let us pass the night together, | |
| Tell me of your strange adventures, | 30 |
| Of the lands where you have travelled; | |
| I will tell you of my prowess, | |
| Of my many deeds of wonder.” | |
| From his pouch he drew his peace-pipe, | |
| Very old and strangely fashioned; | 35 |
| Made of red stone was the pipe-head, | |
| And the stem a reed with feathers; | |
| Filled the pipe with bark of willow, | |
| Placed a burning coal upon it, | |
| Gave it to his guest, the stranger, | 40 |
| And began to speak in this wise: | |
| “When I blow my breath about me, | |
| When I breathe upon the landscape, | |
| Motionless are all the rivers, | |
| Hard as stone becomes the water!” | 45 |
| And the young man answered, smiling: | |
| “When I blow my breath about me, | |
| When I breathe upon the landscape, | |
| Flowers spring up o’er all the meadows, | |
| Singing, onward rush the rivers!” | 50 |
| “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, | 55 |
| For I breathe, and lo! they are not. | |
| From the waters and the marshes | |
| Rise the wild goose and the heron, | |
| Fly away to distant regions, | |
| For I speak, and lo! they are not. | 60 |
| And where’er my footsteps wander, | |
| All the wild beasts of the forest | |
| Hide themselves in holes and caverns, | |
| And the earth becomes as flintstone!” | |
| “When I shake my flowing ringlets,” | 65 |
| 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 | |
| Come the wild goose and the heron, | 70 |
| Homeward shoots the arrowy swallow, | |
| Sing the bluebird and the robin, | |
| And where’er my footsteps wander, | |
| All the meadows wave with blossoms, | |
| All the woodlands ring with music, | 75 |
| All the trees are dark with foliage!” | |
| While they spake, the night departed: | |
| From the distant realms of Wabun, | |
| From his shining lodge of silver, | |
| Like a warrior robed and painted, | 80 |
| Came the sun, and said, “Behold me | |
| Gheezis, the great sun, behold me!” | |
| Then the old man’s tongue was speechless | |
| And the air grew warm and pleasant, | |
| And upon the wigwam sweetly | 85 |
| 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, | 90 |
| 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, | 95 |
| 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, | 100 |
| On the hearth-stone of the wigwam, | |
| Where the fire had smoked and smouldered, | |
| Saw the earliest flower of Spring-time, | |
| Saw the Beauty of the Spring-time, | |
| Saw the Miskodeed in blossom. | 105 |
| 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, | 110 |
| All 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, | 115 |
| Speaking almost as a man speaks; | |
| 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, | 120 |
| Mahng the loon, with clangorous pinions, | |
| The blue heron, the Shuh-shuh-gah, | |
| And the grouse, the Mushkodasa. | |
| In the thickets and the meadows | |
| Piped the bluebird, the Owaissa, | 125 |
| On the summit of the lodges | |
| Sang the robin, the Opechee, | |
| In the covert of the pine-trees | |
| Cooed the pigeon, the Omemee; | |
| And the sorrowing Hiawatha, | 130 |
| Speechless in his infinite sorrow, | |
| Heard their voices calling to him, | |
| Went forth from his gloomy doorway, | |
| Stood and gazed into the heaven, | |
| Gazed upon the earth and waters. | 135 |
| From his wanderings far to eastward, | |
| From the regions of the morning, | |
| From the shining land of Wabun, | |
| Homeward now returned Iagoo, | |
| The great traveller, the great boaster, | 140 |
| 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, | 145 |
| Laughing answered him in this wise: | |
| “Ugh! it is indeed Iagoo! | |
| No one else beholds such wonders!” | |
| He had seen, he said, a water | |
| Bigger than the Big-Sea-Water, | 150 |
| Broader than the Gitche Gumee, | |
| Bitter so that none could drink it! | |
| At each other looked the warriors, | |
| Looked the women at each other, | |
| Smiled, and said, “It cannot be so! | 155 |
| Kaw!” they said, “it cannot be so!” | |
| 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, | 160 |
| 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 mouth, he said, to greet him, | 165 |
| Came Waywassimo, the lightning, | |
| Came the thunder, Annemeekee! | |
| And the warriors and the women | |
| Laughed aloud at poor Iagoo; | |
| “Kaw!” they said, “what tales you tell us!” | 170 |
| 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! | 175 |
| 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! | 180 |
| Do not think that we believe them!” | |
| Only Hiawatha laughed not, | |
| But he gravely spake and answered | |
| To their jeering and their jesting: | |
| “True is all Iagoo tells us; | 185 |
| 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 | 190 |
| From the regions of the morning, | |
| From the shining land of Wabun. | |
| “Gitche Manito, the Mighty, | |
| The Great Spirit, the Creator, | |
| Sends them hither on his errand, | 195 |
| Sends them to us with his message. | |
| Wheresoe’er they move, before them | |
| Swarms the stinging fly, the Ahmo, | |
| Swarms the bee, the honey-maker; | |
| Wheresoe’er they tread, beneath them | 200 |
| 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 | 205 |
| 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 future, | 210 |
| Of the distant days that shall be. | |
| I beheld the westward marches | |
| Of the unknown, crowded nations. | |
| All the land was full of people, | |
| Restless, struggling, toiling, striving, | 215 |
| 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 | 220 |
| Rushed their great canoes of thunder. | |
| “Then a darker, drearier vision | |
| Passed before me, vague and cloud-like; | |
| I beheld our nation scattered, | |
| All forgetful of my counsels, | 225 |
| Weakened, warring with each other: | |
| Saw the remnants of our people | |
| Sweeping westward, wild and woful, | |
| Like the cloud-rack of a tempest, | |
| Like the withered leaves of Autumn!” | 230 |
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