| |
| 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, | 5 |
| To the purple clouds of sunset. | |
| Fiercely the red sun descending | |
| Burned his way along the heavens, | |
| Set the sky on fire behind him, | |
| As war-prairies, when retreating, | 10 |
| Burn the prairies on their war-trail; | |
| And the moon, the Night-sun, eastward, | |
| Suddenly starting from his ambush, | |
| Followed fast those bloody footprints, | |
| Followed in that fiery war-trail, | 15 |
| With its glare upon his features. | |
| And Nokomis, the old woman, | |
| Pointing with her finger westward, | |
| Spake these words to Hiawatha: | |
| “Yonder dwells the great Pearl-Feather, | 20 |
| Megissogwon, the Magician, | |
| Manito of Wealth and Wampum, | |
| Guarded by his fiery serpents, | |
| Guarded by the black pitch-water. | |
| You can see his fiery serpents, | 25 |
| 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! | 30 |
| “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, | 35 |
| 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! | 40 |
| “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, | 45 |
| And the oil of Mishe-Nahma, | |
| So to smear its sides, that swiftly | |
| You may pass the black pitch-water; | |
| Slay this merciless magician, | |
| Save the people from the fever | 50 |
| 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; | 55 |
| With his palm its sides he patted, | |
| Said with glee, “Cheemaun, my darling, | |
| O my Birch-canoe! leap forward, | |
| Where you see the fiery serpents, | |
| Where you see the black pitch-water!” | 60 |
| Forward leaped Cheemaun exulting, | |
| And the noble Hiawatha | |
| Sang his war-song wild and woful, | |
| And above him the war-eagle, | |
| The Keneu, the great war-eagle, | 65 |
| 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, | 70 |
| Sparkling, rippling in the water, | |
| Lying coiled across the passage, | |
| With their blazing crests uplifted, | |
| Breathing fiery fogs and vapors, | |
| So that none could pass beyond them. | 75 |
| But the fearless Hiawatha | |
| Cried aloud, and spake in this wise, | |
| “Let me pass my way, Kenabeek, | |
| Let me go upon my journey!” | |
| And they answered, hissing fiercely, | 80 |
| With their fiery breath made answer: | |
| “Back, go back! O Shaugodaya! | |
| Back to old Nokomis, Faint-heart!” | |
| Then the angry Hiawatha | |
| Raised his mighty bow of ash-tree, | 85 |
| Seized his arrows, jasper-headed, | |
| Shot them fast among the serpents; | |
| Every twanging of the bow-string | |
| Was a war-cry and a death-cry, | |
| Every whizzing of an arrow | 90 |
| Was a death-song of Kenabeek. | |
| Weltering in the bloody water, | |
| Dead lay all the fiery serpents, | |
| And among them Hiawatha | |
| Harmless sailed, and cried exulting: | 95 |
| “Onward, O Cheemaun, my darling! | |
| Onward to the black pitch-water!” | |
| Then he took the oil of Nahma, | |
| And the bows and sides anointed, | |
| Smeared them well with oil, that swiftly | 100 |
| 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, | 105 |
| Rank with flags and leaves of lilies, | |
| Stagnant, lifeless, dreary, dismal, | |
| Lighted by the shimmering moonlight, | |
| And by will-o’-the-wisps illumined, | |
| Fires by ghosts of dead men kindled, | 110 |
| In their weary night-encampments. | |
| All the air was white with moonlight, | |
| All the water black with shadow, | |
| And around him the Suggema, | |
| The mosquito, sang his war-song, | 115 |
| And the fire-flies, 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 upon him, | 120 |
| Sobbed and sank beneath the surface; | |
| And anon a thousand whistles, | |
| Answered over all the fen-lands, | |
| And the heron, the Shuh-shuh-gah, | |
| Far off on the reedy margin, | 125 |
| 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, | 130 |
| 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 could see the Shining Wigwam | 135 |
| Of the Manito of Wampum, | |
| Of the mightiest of Magicians. | |
| Then once more Cheemaun he patted, | |
| To his birch-canoe said, “Onward!” | |
| And it stirred in all its fibres, | 140 |
| 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. | 145 |
| Straight he took his bow of ash-tree, | |
| On the sand one end he rested, | |
| With his knee he pressed the middle, | |
| Stretched the faithful bow-string tighter, | |
| Took an arrow, jasper-headed, | 150 |
| 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! | 155 |
| Hiawatha waits your coming!” | |
| Straightway from the Shining Wigwam | |
| Came the mighty Megissogwon, | |
| Tall of stature, broad of shoulder, | |
| Dark and terrible in aspect, | 160 |
| 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, | 165 |
| Streaming upward, streaming outward. | |
| “Well I know you, Hiawatha!” | |
| Cried he in a voice of thunder, | |
| In a tone of loud derision. | |
| “Hasten back, O Shaugodaya! | 170 |
| 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, | 175 |
| Nothing daunted, fearing nothing: | |
| “Big words do not smite like war-clubs, | |
| Boastful breath is not a bow-string, | |
| Taunts are not so sharp as arrows, | |
| Deeds are better things than words are, | 180 |
| Actions mightier than boastings!” | |
| Then began the greatest battle | |
| That the sun had ever looked on, | |
| That the war-birds ever witnessed. | |
| All a Summer’s day it lasted, | 185 |
| From the sunrise to the sunset; | |
| For the shafts of Hiawatha | |
| Harmless hit the shirt of wampum, | |
| Harmless fell the blows he dealt it | |
| With his mittens, Minjekahwun, | 190 |
| Harmless fell the heavy war-club; | |
| It could dash the rocks asunder, | |
| But it could not break the meshes | |
| Of that magic shirt of wampum. | |
| Till at sunset Hiawatha, | 195 |
| Leaning on his bow of ash-tree, | |
| Wounded, weary, and desponding, | |
| With his mighty war-club broken, | |
| With his mittens torn and tattered, | |
| And three useless arrows only, | 200 |
| Paused to rest beneath a pine-tree, | |
| From whose branches trailed the mosses, | |
| And whose trunk was coated over | |
| With the Dead-man’s Moccasin-leather, | |
| With the fungus white and yellow. | 205 |
| Suddenly from the boughs above him | |
| Sang the Mama, the woodpecker: | |
| “Aim your arrows, Hiawatha, | |
| At the head of Megissogwon, | |
| Strike the tuft of hair upon it, | 210 |
| 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, stooping, | 215 |
| 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, | 220 |
| Yes, like Pezhekee, the bison, | |
| When the snow is on the prairie. | |
| Swifter flew the second arrow, | |
| In the pathway of the other, | |
| Piercing deeper than the other, | 225 |
| Wounding 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 | 230 |
| Swiftest flew, and wounded sorest, | |
| And the mighty Megissogwon | |
| Saw the fiery eyes of Pauguk, | |
| Saw the eyes of Death glare at him, | |
| Heard his voice call in the darkness; | 235 |
| At the feet of Hiawatha | |
| Lifeless lay the great Pearl-Feather, | |
| Lay the mightiest of Magicians. | |
| Then the grateful Hiawatha | |
| Called the Mama, the woodpecker, | 240 |
| From his perch among the branches | |
| Of the melancholy pine-tree, | |
| And, in honor of his service, | |
| Stained with blood the tuft of feathers | |
| On the little head of Mama; | 245 |
| Even to this day he wears it, | |
| Wears the tuft of crimson feathers, | |
| As a symbol of his service. | |
| Then he stripped the shirt of wampum | |
| From the back of Megissogwon, | 250 |
| 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, | 255 |
| And his face was in the water. | |
| And above him, wheeled and clamored | |
| The Keneu, the great war-eagle, | |
| Sailing round in narrower circles, | |
| Hovering nearer, nearer, nearer. | 260 |
| 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, | 265 |
| 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, | 270 |
| Homeward through the weltering serpents | |
| With the trophies of the battle, | |
| With a shout and song of triumph. | |
| On the shore stood old Nokomis, | |
| On the shore stood Chibiabos, | 275 |
| And the very strong man, Kwasind, | |
| Waiting for the hero’s coming, | |
| Listening to his songs of triumph. | |
| And the people of the village | |
| Welcomed him with songs and dances, | 280 |
| Made a joyous feast, and shouted: | |
| “Honor be to Hiawatha! | |
| He has slain the great Pearl-Feather, | |
| Slain the mightiest of Magicians, | |
| Him, who sent the fiery fever, | 285 |
| Sent the white fog from the fen-lands, | |
| Sent disease and death among us!” | |
| Ever dear to Hiawatha | |
| Was the memory of Mama! | |
| And in token of his friendship, | 290 |
| As a mark of his remembrance, | |
| He adorned and decked his pipe-stem | |
| With the crimson tuft of feathers, | |
| With the blood-red crest of Mama. | |
| But the wealth of Megissogwon, | 295 |
| All the trophies of the battle, | |
| He divided with his people, | |
| Shared it equally among them. | |
| |
