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On the tree-tops near the corn-fields

1. Only Kahgahgce, the leader, Sat the hungry crows and ravens.

Kahgalgee, the King of Ravens, Kahgahgee, the King of Ravens,

He alone was spared among them With his band of black inarauders,

As a hostage for his people. And they laughed at Hiawatha,

With his prisoner-string he bound lim, Till the tree-tops shook with laughter,

Led him captive to his wigwam, With their melancholy langliter

Tied him fast with cords of elm-bark At the words of Hiawatna.

To the ridge-pole of his wigwam. * Hear him!" said they; "hear the Wise Man! "Kahgahgee, my raven!' said he, Hear the plots of Hiawatha!"

"You the leader of the robbers, When the noiseless night descended

You the plotter of this mischief, Broad and dark o'er field and forest,

The contriver of this outrage, When the mournful Wawonaissa,

I will keep you, I will hold you, Sorrowing sang among the hemlocks,

As a hostage for your people, And the Spirit of Sleep, Nepahwin,

As a pledge of good behaviour!" Shut the doors of all the wigwams,

And he left him, grim and sulky, From her bed rose Laughing Water,

Sitting in the morning sunshine Laid aside her garinents wholly,

On the summit of the wigwam. And with darkness clothed and guarded,

Croaking fiercely his displeasure, Unashamed and unaffrighted,

Flapping his great sable pinions, Walked securely round the corn-fields.

Vainly struggling for his freedom, Drew the sacred, magic circle

Vainly calling on his people! Of her footprints round the corn-fields.

Summer passed, and Shawondasee No one but the Midnight only

Breathed his sighs o'er all the landscape. Saw her beauty in the darkness,

From the South-land sent his odours, No one bnt the Wawonaissa

Wafted kisses warm and tender : Heard the panting of her bosom ;

And the maize-field grew and ripened, Guskewan, the darkness, wrapped her

Till it stood in all the splendour Closely in his sacred mantle,

Of its garments green and yellow, So that none might see her beauty,

Of its tassels and its plumage, So that none might boast, "I saw her!"

And the maize-ears full and shining On the morrow, as the day dawned,

Gleamed from bursting sheets of verdure. Kahgahgee, the King of Ravens,

Then Nokomis, the old woman, Gathered all his black marauders,

Spake, and said to Minnehaha : Crows and black-birds, jays and ravens,

" 'Tis the moon when leaves are falling; Clamorous on the dusky tree-tops,

All the wild-rice has been gathered, And descended, fast and fearless,

And the maize is ripe and ready; On the fields of Hiawatha,

Let us gather in the harvest On the grave of the Mondamin.

| Let us wrestle with Mondamin, * We will drag Mondamin," said they

Strip him of his plumes and tassels, "From the grave where he is buried,

Of his garments green and yellow!" Spite of all the magic circles

And the merry Laughing Water Laughing Water draws around it, . . | Went rejoicing from the wigwam, Spite of all the sacred footprints

| With Nokomis, old and wrinkled, Minnehaha stamps upon it,

| And they called the women round them, But the wary Hiawatha,

I Called the young men and the maidens, Ever thoughtful, careful, watchful,

To the harvest of the corn-fields, Had o'erheard the scornful laughter

To the husking of the maize-ear. When they mocked him from the tree-tops.

On the border of the forest, "Kaw !" he said, “ my friends the ravens!

Underneath the fragrant pine-trees, Kahgahgee, my King of Ravens!

Sat the old man and the warriors I will teach you all a lesson

Smoking in the pleasant shadow. That shall not be soon forgotten!"

In uninterrupted silence He had risen before the daybreak,

Looked they'at the gamesome labour He had spread o'er all the corn-fields

Of the young men and the women; Snares to catch the black marauders,

Listened to thair noisy talking, And was lying now in ambush

To their laughter and their singing. In the neighbouring grove of pine-trees,

Heard them chattering like the magpics, Waiting for the crows and black birds,

Heard them laughing like the blue-jays, Waiting for the jays and ravens.

Heard them singing like the robins. Soon they came with caw and clamour,

And whene'er some lucky maiden Rush of wings and cry of voices,

Found a red ear in the husking, To their work of devastation,

Found a maize-ear red as blood is, Settling down upon the corn-fields,

"Noska !" cried they all together, Delving deep with beak and talon,

"Noska! you shall have a sweetheart, For the body of Mondamin.

You shall have a handsome husband !" And with all their craft and cunning,

Ugh!" the old men all responded All their skill in wiles and warfare,

From their seats beneath the pine-trees. They perceived no danger near them,

And whene'er a youth or maiden Till their claws became entangled,

Found a crooked ear in husking. Till they found themselves imprisoned

Found a maize-ear in the lusking In the snares of Hiawatha.

Blighted, mildewed, or misshapen, From his place of ambush came he,

Then they laughed and sang together, Striding terrible among them,

Crept and limped about the corn-fields, And so awful was his aspect

Mimicked in their gait and gestures That the bravest quailed with terror.

Some old man, bent almost donble, Without mercy he destroyed them

Singing singly or together : Right and left, by tens and twenties,

“Wagemin, the thief of corn-fields! And their wretched, lifeless bodies

Paimosaid, who steals the maize-ear !" Hung aloft on poles for scarcecrows

Till the corn-fields rang with laughter Round the consecrated corn-fields,

Till from Hiawatha's wigwam As a signal of his vengeance,

Kahgahgee, the King of Ravens, As a warning to marauders.

Screamed and quivered in his anger,

And from all the neighbouring tree-tops,

| Were a sign of invitation, Cawed and croaked the black marauders.

Were a sign of guests assembling; “ Ugh!" the old men all responded

Bloody hands with palms uplifted
Froin their seats beneath the pine-trees.

Were a symbol of destruction,
Were a hostile sign and symbol.

All these things did Hiawatha

Show unto his wondering people,

And interpreted their meaning,

And he said: "Behold, your grave-posts

Have no mark, no sign, no symbol. In those days said Hiawatha,

Go and paint them all with figures; "Lo! how all things fade and perish!

Each one with its household symbol, From the memory of the old men

With its own ancestral Totem, Pass away the great traditions,

So that those who follow after The achievements of the warriors,

May distinguish them and know them." The adventures of the hunters,

And they painted on the grave-posts All the wisdom of the Medas,

Of the graves yet unforgotten, All the craft of the Wavenos,

Each his own ancestral Totem, All the marvellous dreams and visions

Each the symbol of his household ; Text Of the Josakeeds, the Prophets

Figures of the Bear and Reindeer, "Great men die and are forgotten,

of the Turtle, Crane, and Beaver, Wise men speak; their words of wisdom

Each inverted as a token Perish in the ears that hear them,

That the owner was departed, Do not reach the generations

That the chief who bore the symbol, That, as yet unborn, are waiting

Lay beneath in dust and ashes. In the great, mysterious darkness

And the Jossakeeds, the Prophets, of the speechless days that shall be !

The Wabenos, the Magicians. "On the grave-posts of our father's

And the Medicine-men, the Medas, Are no signs, no figures painted;

Painted upon bark and deer-skin Who are in those graves we know not,

Figures for the songs they chanted, Only know they are our fathers,

For each song a separate symbol, Of what kith they are and kindred,

Figures mystical and awful, From what old, ancestral Totem,

Figures strange and brightly coloured; Be it Eagle, Bear, or Beaver,

And each figure had its meaning, They descended, this we know not,

Each some magic song suggested. Only kitow they are our fathers,

The Great Spirit, the Creator, Face to face we speak together,

Flashing light through all the heaven, But we cannot speak when absent

The Great Serpent, the Kenabeek, Cannot send our voices from 118

With his bloody crest erected, To the friends that dwell afar off ;

Creeping, looking into heaven; Cannot send a secret message,

In the sky, the sun that listens, But the bearer learns on secret,

And the moon eclipsed and dying. May pervert it, may betray it,

Owl and eagle, crane and hen-hawk. May reveal it into others."

And the cormorant, bird of magic; Thus said Hiawatha, walking

Headless men that walk the heavens, In the solitary forest,

Bodies lying pierced with arrows, Pondering, musing in the forest,

Bloody hands of death uplifted, On the welfare of his people.

Flags on graves, and great war-captains From his pouch he took his colours,

Grasping both the earth and heaven! Took his paints of different colouu's,

Such as these the shapes they painted On the smooth bark of a birch-tree

On the birch-bark and the deer-skin; Painted many shapes and figures,

Songs of war and songs of huntins Wonderful and mystic figures,

Songs of medicine, and of magic, And each figure had a meaning.

All were written in these figures, Each some word or thought suggested.

For each figure had its meaning, Gitche Manito the Mighty,

Each its separate song recorded. He, the Master of Life, was painted

Nor forgotten was the Love Song As an egg, with points projecting

The most subtle of all medicines, To the four winds of the heavens.

The most potent spell of magic, Everywhere is the Great Spirit,

Dangerous more than war or hunting! Was the meaning of this symbol.

Thus the Love-Song was recorded, Mitche Munito the Mighty.

Symbol and interpretation. He the dreadful Spirit of Evil,

First a human figure standing, As a serpent was depicted,

Painted in the brightest scarlet; As Kenabeek, the great serpent.

'Tis the lover, the musician, Very crafty, very cunning,

And the meaning is, "My painting Is the creeping Spirit of Evil,

Makes me powerful over others. Was the meaning of this symbol.

Then the figure seated, singing
Life and Death he drew in circles,

Playing on a drum of magic,
Life was white, but Death was darkened ; And the interpretation, Listen!
Sun and moon and stars he painted,

'Tis my voice you hear, my singing!" Man and beast, and fish and reptile,

Then the same red figure seated Forests, mountains, lakes, and rivers.

In the shelter of a wigwam, For the earth he drew a straight line,

And the meaning of the symbol, For the sky a bow above it;

I will come and sit beside you White the space between for day-time,

In the mystery of my passion !" Filled with little stars for night-time;

Then two figures, man and womail, On the left a point for sunrise,

Standing hand in hand together, tom On the right a point for stuset,

With their hands so clasped together On the top a point for noon-tide.

That they seem in one united,

WOOD And for rain and cloudy weather

And the words thus represented

Are, "I see your heart within yoll. Waving lines descending from it."

6703 Footprints pointing towards a wigwam

And your cheeks are red with Blushes!

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Next the maiden on an island,

Then his face with black he painted, In the centre of an island;

With his robe his head he covered, And the song this shape suggested

In his wigwam sat lamenting, Was, “ Though you were at a distance,

Seven long weeks he sat lamenting Were upon some far-off island,

Uttering still his moan of sorrow : Such the spell I cast upon you,

"He is dead, the sweet musician! Such the magic power of passion,

He the sweetest of all singers, I could straightway draw you to me!"

He has gone from us for ever, Then the figure of the maiden

He has moved a little nearer Sleeping, and the lover near her

To the Master of all music, Whispering to her in her slumbers,

To the Master of all singing! Saying, “Though you were far from no

O my brother, Chibiabos!" In the land of Sleep and Silence,

And the melancholy fir-trees Still the voice of love would reach you!"

Waved their dark green fans above him, And the last of all the figures

Waved their purple cones above him, Was a heart within a circle :

Sighing with him to console him, Drawn within a magic circle :

Mingling with his lamentation And the image had this meaning:

Their complaining, their lamenting. "Naked lies your heart before me,

Came the Spring, and all the forest To your naked heart I whisper!"

Looked in vain for Chibiabos: Thus it was that Hiawatha,

Sighed the rivulet, Sebowisha, In his wisdom, taught the people

Sighed the rushes in the meadow. All the mysteries of painting,

From the tree-tops sang the blue-bird, All the art of Picture-Writing,

Sang the blue-bird, the Owaissa, On the smooth bark of the birch-tree,

"Chibiabos! Chibiabos ! On the white skin of the reindeer,

He is dead, the sweet musician!"
On the grave-posts of the village.

Froin the wigwam sang the robin,
Sang the robin, the Opechee,

Chibiabos! Chibiabos!

He is dead, the sweetest singer!"

And at night through all the forest

Went the whippoorwill complaining,

Wailing went the Wawonaissa,
In those days the Evil Spirits,

4 Chibiabos! Chibiabos! All the Manitos of mischief,

He is dead, the sweet musician, Fearing Hiawatha's wisdom,

He the sweetest of all singers !" And his love for Chibiabos,

Then the medicine-men, the Medas, Jealous of their faithful friendship,

The magicians, the Wabenos, And their noble words and actions,

And the Jossakeeds, the prophets, Made at length a league against them,

Came to visit Hiawatha To molest them and destroy them.

Built a Sacred Lodge beside him, Hiawatha, wise and wary,

To appease him, to console him, Often said to Chibiabos,

Walked in silent, grave procession "O mny brother! do not leave me,

Bearing each a pouch of healing Lest the Evil Spirits harm you!"

Skin of beaver, lynx, or otter, Chibiabos, young and hecdless,

Filled with magic roots and simples, Laughing shook his coal-black tresses,

Filled with very potent medicines. Answered ever sweet and childlike,

When he heard their steps approaching, “Do not fear for me, o brother!

Hiawatha ceased lamenting Harm and evil come not near me!

Called no more on Chibiabos: Once when Peboan, the Winter,

Naught he questioned, naught he answered, Roofed with ice the Big-Sea-Water,

But his mournful head uncovered, When the snow-flakes hurling downward,

From his face the mourning colour's Hissed among the withered oak-leaves,

Washed he slowly and in silence, Changed the pine-trees into wigwams,

Slowly and in silence followed Covered all the earth with silence,

Onward to the Sacred Wigwam. Armed with arrows, shod with snow-shoes There a magic drink they gave him, Heeding not his brother's warning,

Made of Nahma-wusk, the spearmint, Fearing not the Evil Spirits,

And Wabeno-wust, the yarrow, Forth to hunt the deer with antlers

Roots of power, and herbs of healitig: All alone went Chibiabos.

Beat their druns, and shook their rattles; Right across the Big-Sea-Water

Chanted singly and in chorus, Sprang with speed the deer before him.

Mystic songs like these, they chanted. With the wind and show he followed,

I myself, myself! behold me! O'er the treacherous ice he followed,

Tis the great Grey Eagle talking Wild with all the fierce commotion,

Come, ye white crows, come and hear him And the rapture of thie hunting.

The loud-speaking thunder helps me But beneath, the Evil Spirits

All the unseen spirits help me

to Lay in ambush, waiting for him,

1 I can hear their voices calling, Broke the treacherous ice beneath him,

All around the sky I hear them! Dragged him downward to the bottom,

I can blow you strong, my brother, Buried in the sand his body.

I can heal you, Hiawatha!" Unktahce, the god of water,

* Hi-all-ha!" replied the chorus) He the god of the Dacotahs,

"Way-ha-way!" the mystic chorus Drowned him in the deep abysses,

+ Friends of mine are all the serpents, 1 of the lake of Gitche Gumee.

Hear me shake my skin of hen-hawk ! ! From the headlands Hiawatha

Mahng, the white loon, I can kill hinn; Sent forth such a wail of anguisli,

I can shoot your heart and kill it! Such a fearful lamentation,

I can blow your strong, my brother! Om That the bison patised to listen,

I can heal you, Hiawatha!" And the wolves howled from the prairies,

"Hi-au-ha!" replied the chorus, And the thunder in the distance

4 Way-ha-way!" the mystic chorus, Woke and answered "Brimn-Wiwa!"

I myself, myself! the prophet!

When I speak the wigwam trembles,

Shakes the Sacred Lodge with terror,

Hands unseen begin to shake it!
When I walk, the sky I tread on

You shall hear how Pau-Puk-Keewis,
Bends and makes a noise beneath me

He, the handsome Yenadizze, I can blow you strong, my brother!

Whom the people called the Storm-Fool, Rise and speak, O Hiawatha!"

| Vexed the village with disturbance ; Hi-au-ha!" replied the chorus,

| You shall hear of all his mischief, * Wa-ha-way!" the mystic chorus.

And his flight from Hiawatha,
Then they shook their medicine-pouches, And his wondrous transmigrations,
O'er the head of Hiawatha,

And the end of his adventures.
Danced their medicine-dance around him;

On the shores of Gitche Gumee, And upstarting wild and haggard,

On the dunes of Nagow Wudjoo, Like a man from dreams awakened,

By the shining Big-Sea-Water He was healed of all his madness.

Stood the lodge of Pau-Puk-Keewis. As the clouds are swept from heaven,

It was he who in his frenzy Straightway from his brain departed

Whirled these drifting sands together, All his moody melancholy;

On the dunes of Nagow Wudjoo, As the ice is swept from rivers,

When among the guests assembled, Straightway from his heart departed

He so merrily and madly All his sorrow and affliction.

Danced at Hiawatha's wedding, Then they summoned Chibiabos

Danced the Beggar's Dance to please them. From his grave beneath the waters,

Now, in search of new adventures, From the sands of Gitche Gumee

From his lodge went Pan-Puk-Keewis, Summoned Hiawatha's brother.

Came with speed into the village, And so mighty was the magic

Found the young inen all assembled Of that cry and invocation,

In the lodge of old lagoo That he heard it as he lay there

Listening to his monstrous stories, Underneath the Big-Sea-Water;

To his wonderful adventures. From the sand he rose and listened,

He was telling them the story Heard the music and the singing,

Of Ojeeg, the Summer-Maker, Came, obedient to the summons.

How he made a hole in heaven, To the doorway of the wigwam,

How he climbed up into heaven, But to enter they forbade him.

And let out the Summer-weather, Throngh a chink a coal they gave him,

The perpetual, pleasant Summer! Through the door a burning fire-brand ;

How the otter first essayed it ; Ruler in the Land of Spirits,

How the Beaver, Lynx, and Badger, Ruler, o'er the dead, they made him,

Tried in turn the great achievement, Telling him a fire to kindle

From the summit of the mountain For all those that died thereafter,

Smote their fists against the heavens, Camp-fires for their night encampments

Smote against the sky their foreheads, On their solitary journey

Cracked the sky, but could not break it ; To the kingdom of Ponemah,

How the Wolverine, uprising, To the land of the Hereafter

Made him ready for the encounter, From the village of his childhood,

Bent his knees down, like a squirrel, From the homes of those who knew him,

Drew his arms back, like a cricket. Passing silent through the forest,

"Once he leaped," said old lagoo, Like a smoke-wreath wafted sideways,

"Once he leaped, and lo! above him Slowly vanished Chibiabos !

Bent the sky, as ice in rivers Where he passed, the branches moved not,

When the waters rise beneath it; Where he trod, the grasses bent not,

Twice he leaped, and lo! above hiin And the fallen leaves of last year

Cracked the sky, as ice in rivers Made no sound beneath his footsteps.

When the freshet is at highest! Four whole days he journeyed onward

Thrice he leaped, and lo! above him Down the pathway of the dead meni;

Broke the shattered sky asunder, On the dead-man's strawberry feasted,

And he disappeared within it, Crossed the melancholy river,

And Ojeeg, the Fisher Weasel, On the swinging log he crossed it,

With a bound went in behind him! Came unto the Lake of Silver,

* Hark you!" shouted Pau-Puk-Keewis, In the Stone Canoe was carried

As he entered at the doorway; To the Islands of the Blessed,

* I am tired of all this talking, To the land of ghosts and shadows.

Tired of old lagoo's stories, On that journey, moving slowly,

Tired of Hiawatha's wisdom. Many weary spirits saw he,

Here is something to amuse you, Panting inder heavy burdens,

Better than this endless talking." Laden with war-clubs, bows and arrows,

Then from out his pouch of wolf-skin, Robes of fur, and pots and kettles,

Forth he drew, with solemn manner, And with food that friends had given,

All the game of Bowl and Counters, For that solitary journey.

Pugasaing, with thirteen pieces, "Ah! why do the living," said they,

White on one side were they painted, "Lay such heavy burdens on us!

And vermilion on the other; Better were it to go naked,

Two Kenabeeks or great serpents, Better were it to go fasting,

Two Ininewug or wedge-men, Than to bear such heavy burdens

One great war-club, Piigamatigiill, On our long and weary journey!"

And one slender fish, the Keego, Forth then issued Hiawatha,

Four round pieces, Ozawabeeks, Wandered eastward, wandered westward,

And three Sheshebwug or dueklings Teaching men the use of simples,

All were made of bone and painted, And the antidotes for poisons,

All except the Ozawabeeks; And the cure of all diseases.

These were brass, on one side buurnished, Thus was first made known to mortals

And were black upon the other. All the mystery of Medamin,

In a wooden bowl he placed them, All the sacred art of healing,

Shook and jostled them together,

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Threw them on the ground before him,

Ore Ininewug was standing, Thus exclaiming and explaining:

Even as crafty Pau-Puk-Keewis "Red side up are all the pleces,

Stood alone among the players, And one great Kenabeek standing

Saying, “Five tens! mine the game is !" On the bright side of a brass piece,

Twenty eyes glared at him fiercely, On a burnished Ozawabeek;

Like the eyes of wolves glared at him, Thirteen tens and eight are counted."

As he turned and left the wigwam, Then again he shook the pieces,

Followed by his Meshinauwa. Shook and jostled them together,

By the nephew of Iagoo, Threw them on the ground before him,

By the tall and graceful stripling, Still exclaiming and explaining:

Bearing in his arms the winnings. * White are both the great Keuabeeks,

Shirts of deer-skin, robes of ermine, White the Ininewug, the wedge-men,

Belts of wampum, pipes, and weapons. Red are all the other pieces:

"Carry them," said Pau-Puk-Keewis, Five tens and an eight are counted."

Pointing with his fan of feathers, Thus he taught the game of hazard,

To my wigwam far to eastward, Thus displayed it and explained it,

On the dunes of Nagow Wudjoo!" Running through its various chances,

Hot and red with smoke and gambling Various changes, various meanings:

Were the eyes of Pau-Puk-Keewis, Twenty curious eyes stared at him,

As he came forth to the freshness Full of eagerness stared at him.

Of the pleasant summer morning. "Many games," said old lagoo,

All the birds were singing gaily, "Many games of skill and hazard,

All the streamlets flowing swiftly, Have I seen in different nations,

And the heart of Pau-Puk-Keewis Have I played in different countries.

Sang with pleasure as the birds sing. He who plays with old lagoo

Beat with triumph like the streamlets, Must have very nimble fingers ;

As he wandered through the village, Though you think yourself so skilful,

In the early grey of morning, I can beat you, Pau-Puk-Kecwis,

With his fan of turkey-feathers, I can even give you lessons

With his plumes and tufts of swan's-down, In your game of Bowl and Counters !"

Till he reached the farthest wigwam, So they sat and played together,

Reached the lodge of Hiawatha.. All the old men and the young men,

Silent was it and deserted; Played for dresses, weapons, wampum,

No one met him at the doorway Played till midnight, played till morning,

No one came to bid him welcome Played until the Yenadizze,

But the birds were singing round it, Till the cunning Pau-Puk-Keewis,

In and out and round the doorway, Of their treasures had despoiled them,

Hopping, singing, fiuttering, feeding, Of the best of all their dresses,

And aloft upon the ridge-pole Shirts of deer-skin, robes of erinine,

Kahgahgee, the King of Ravens, Belts of wampum, crests of feathers,

Sat with fiery eyes, and, screaming, Warlike weapons, pipes and pouches,

Flapped his wings at Pau-Puk-Keewis. Twenty eyes glared wildly at him,

"All are gone, the lodge is empty!" Like the eyes of wolves glared at him.

Thus it was spake Pau-Puk-Keewis, Said the lucky Pau-Puk-Keewis:

In his heart resolving mischief; "In my wigwam I am lonely,

"Gone is wary Hiawatha, In my wanderings and adventures

Gone the silly Laughing Water, I have need of a companion,

Gone Nokomis, the old woman, Fain would have a Meshinaniwa,

And the lodge is left unguarded!" An attendant and pipe-bearer.

By the neck he seized the raven, I will venture all these winnings,

Whirled it round him like a rattle, All these garments heaped about me,

Like a medicine-pouch he shook it, All this wainpum, all these feathers,

Strangled Kahgahgee, the raven, On a single throw will venture

From the ridge-pole of the wigwam All against the young man yonder!".

Left its lifeless body hanging, 'Twas a youth of sixteen summers,

As an insult to its master, 'Twas a nephew of Iagoo;

As a taunt to Hiawatha. Face-in-a-Mist, the people called him.

With a stealthy step he entered, As the fire burns in a pipe-head

Round the lodge in wild disorder Dusky red beneath the ashes,

Threw the household things about him, So beneath his shaggy eyebrows

Piled together in confusion Glowed the eyes of old lagoo.

Bowls of wood and earthen kettles, "Ugh!” he answered very fiercely ;

Robes of buffalo and beaver, "Ugh!" they answered, all and each one.

Skins of otter, lynx, and ermine, Seized the wooden bowl the old man,

As an insult to Nokomis, Closely in his bony fingers

As a taunt to Minnehaha. Clutched the fatal bowl, Onagon,

Then departed Pau-Puk-Keewis, Shook it fiercely and with fury,

Whistling, singing, through the forest, Made the pieces ring together

Whistling gaily io the squirrels, As he threw them down before him.

Who from hollow boughs above him Red were both the great Kenabeeks,

Dropped their acorn-shells upon him, Red the Ininewig, the wedge-men,

Singing gaily to the wood -birds, Red the Sheshebwug, the ducklings,

Who from out the leafy darkness Black the four brass Ozawabeeks,

Answered with a song as merry. White alone the fish, the Keego;

Then he climbed the rocky headlands, Only five the pieces counted!

Looking o'er the Gitche Gumee, Then the smiling Pau-Puk-Keewis

Perched himself upon their summit, Shook the bowl and threw the pieces;

Waiting full of mirth and mischief Lightly in the air he tossed them,

The return of Hiawatha. And they fell about him scattered;

Stretched upon his back he lay there; Dark and bright the Ozawabecks,

Far below him plashed the waters, Red and white the other pieces,

Plashed and washed the dreamy waters And upright among the others

Far above him swam the heavens,

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