The Song of Hiawatha | Page 6

sporting with her women,
Swinging in a swing of
grape-vines,
When her rival the rejected,
Full of jealousy and hatred,

Cut the leafy swing asunder,
Cut in twain the twisted grape-vines,

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,

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,
"Oh,
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 blossoms,
Bending low the
flowers and grasses,
Found the beautiful Wenonah,
Lying there
among the lilies,
Wooed her with his words of sweetness,
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 faithless,
By the
heartless Mudjekeewis.
For her daughter long and loudly
Wailed and wept the sad Nokomis;

"Oh that I were dead!" she murmured,
"Oh that I were dead, as
thou art!
No more work, and no more weeping,
Wahonowin!
Wahonowin!"
By the shores of Gitche Gumee,
By the shining Big-Sea-Water,


Stood the wigwam of Nokomis,
Daughter of the Moon, Nokomis.

Dark behind it rose the forest,
Rose the black and gloomy pine-trees,

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 hear thee!"
Lulled him into slumber,
singing,
"Ewa-yea! my little owlet!
Who is this, that lights the
wigwam?
With his great eyes lights the wigwam?
Ewa-yea! 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 war-clubs,
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 shadows.
At the door on summer evenings
Sat the little Hiawatha;
Heard the
whispering of the pine-trees,
Heard the lapping of the waters,

Sounds of music, words of wonder;
'Minne-wawa!" said the
Pine-trees,
Mudway-aushka!" said the water.
Saw the fire-fly, Wah-wah-taysee,
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-taysee, little fire-fly,
Little, flitting,
white-fire insect,
Little, dancing, white-fire creature,
Light me with
your little candle,
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 her
Up into the sky
at midnight;
Right against the moon he threw her;
'T is her body
that you see there."
Saw the rainbow in the heaven,
In the eastern sky, the rainbow,

Whispered, "What is that, Nokomis?"
And the good Nokomis
answered:
"'T is the heaven of flowers you see there;
All the
wild-flowers of the forest,
All the lilies of the prairie,
When on
earth they fade and perish,
Blossom in that heaven above us."
When he heard the owls at midnight,
Hooting, laughing in the forest,

'What is that?" he cried in terror,
"What is that," he said,
"Nokomis?"
And the good Nokomis answered:
"That is but the owl
and owlet,
Talking in their native language,
Talking, scolding at
each other."
Then the little Hiawatha
Learned of every bird its language,

Learned their names and all their secrets,
How they built their nests in
Summer,
Where they hid themselves in Winter,
Talked with them
whene'er he met them,
Called them "Hiawatha's Chickens."
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 Iagoo, 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 arrows,
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