Lay the sturgeon, King of Fishes;
Through his gills he breathed the water,
With his fins he fanned and winnowed,
30. With his tail he swept the sand-floor.
There he lay in all his armour;
On each side a shield to guard him,
Plates of bone upon his forehead,
Down his sides and back and shoulders
Plates of bone with spines projecting;
Painted was he with his war-paints,
Stripes of yellow, red, and azure,
Spots of brown and spots of sable;
And he lay there on the bottom,
40. Fanning with his fins of purple,
As above him Hiawatha

In his birch-canoe came sailing,
With his fishing-line of cedar.

"Take my bait!" cried Hiawatha, Down into the depths beneath him, "Take my bait, O Sturgeon, Nahima! Come up from below the water, Let us see which is the stronger!" And he dropped his line of cedar 50. Through the clear, transparent water, Waited vainly for an answer Long sat waiting for an answer, And repeating loud and louder, "Take my bait, O. King of Fishes!" Quiet lay the sturgeon Nahma, Fanning slowly in the water, Looking up at Hiawatha, Listening to his call and clamour, His unnecessary tumult, bo. Till he wearied of the shouting; And he said to the Kenozha,

To the pike, the Maskenozha,
"Take the bait of this rude fellow,
Break the line of Hiawatha!"

In his fingers Hiawatha
Felt the loose line jerk and tighten;
As he drew it in, it tugged so

That the birch-canoe stood endwise,
Like a birch log in the water,
70. With the squirrel, Adjidaume.
'Perched and frisking on the summit.
Full of scorn was Hiawatha
When he saw the fish rise upward,
Saw the pike, the Maskenozha,
Coming nearer, nearer to him,
And he shouted through the water,
Esa! esa! Shame upon you,
You are but the pike, Kenozha,
You are not the fish I wanted,

80. You are not the King of Fishes!"

90.

100.

Reeling downward to the bottom
Sank the pike in great confusion,
And the mighty sturgeon, Nahma,
Said to Ugudwash, the sun-fish,
To the bream with scales of crimson,
"Take the bait of this great boaster,
Break the line of Hiawatha!

Slowly upward, wavering, gleaming,
Rose the Ugudwash, the sun-tish,
Seized the line of Hiawatha,

Swung with all its weight upon it,
Made a whirlpool in the water,
Whirled the birch-canoe in circles,
Round and round in gurgling eddies,
Till the circles in the water
Reached the far-off sandy beaches,
Till the water-flags and rushes
Nodded on the distant margins.

But when Hiawatha saw him
Slowly rising through the water,
Lifting his great disc refulgent,
Loud he shouted in derision,
"Esa! esa! shame upon you!
You are Ugudwash, the sun-fish,
You are not the fish I wanted,
You are not the King of Fishes!"

Slowly downward, wavering, gleaming,
Sank the Ugudwash, the sun-fish,
And again the sturgeon, Nahma,

Plunged the headlong Hiawatha.

As a log on some black river,

Shoots and plunges down the rapids,
Found himself in utter darkness,
Groped about in helpless wonder,
Till he felt a great heart beating,
Throbbing in that utter darkness.

And he smote it in his anger,
With his fist the heart of Nahina,
Felt the mighty King of Fishes
Shudder through each nerve and fibre,
Heard the water gurgle round him

Hs he leaped and staggered through it,
Sick at heart, and faint and weary.
Crosswise then did Hiawatha
Drag his birch-canoe for safety,
Lest from out the jaws of Nahmia,
In the turmoil and confusion,
Forth he might be hurled and perish.
And the squirrel, Adjidaumo,
Frisked and chatted very gaily,
Toiled and tugged with Hiawatha
Till the labour was completed.

Then said Hiawatha to him,
"O my little friend, the squirrel,
Bravely have you toiled to help me;
Take the thanks of Hiawatha,

And the name which now he gives you; For hereafter and for ever,

Boys shall call you Adjidaumo,
Tail-in-air the boys shall call you!"

And again the sturgeon, Nahma,
Gasped and quivered in the water,
Then was still and drifted landward,
Till he grated on the pebbles,
Till the listening Hiawatha
Heard him grate upon the margin,
Felt him strand upon the pebbles,
Knew that Nahma, King of Fishes,
Lay there dead upon the margin.
Then he heard a clang and flapping,
As of many wings assembling,
Heard a screaming and confusion,
As of birds of prey contending,
Saw a gleam of light above him,
Shining through the ribs of Nahma,
Saw the glittering eyes of sea-gulls,
Of Kayoshk, the sea-gulls, peering,
Gazing at him through the opening,
Heard them saying to each other,

"Tis our brother, Hiawatha!" And he shouted from below them, Cried exulting from the caverns: "O ye sea-gulls! O my brothers! I have slain the sturgeon, Nalna: Make the rifts a little larger, With your claws the openings widen, Set me free from this dark prison, And henceforward and for ever Men shall speak of your achievements, Calling you Kayoshk, the sea-gulls, Yes, Kayoshk, the Noble Scratchers!" And the wild and clamorous sea-gulls Toiled with beak and claws together, Made the rifts and openings wider In the mighty ribs of Nahma, And from peril and from prison, From the body of the sturgeon, From the peril of the water,

JA

They released my Hiawatha.

He was standing near his wigwam,
On the margin of the water,
And he called to old Nokomis,
Called and beckoned to Nokomis,
Pointed to the sturgeon, Nahma,
Lying lifeless on the pebbles,
D. With the sea-gulls feeding on him.
"I have slain the Mishe-Nahma,
Slain the King of Fishes!" said he:
"Look! the sea-gulls feed upon him,
Yes, my friend Kayoshk, the sea-gulls;
Drive them not away, Nokomis,
They have saved me from great peril
In the body of the sturgeon.
Wait until their meal is ended.

Till their craws are full with feasting, 210. Till they homeward fly at sunset,

To their nests among the marshes;
Then bring all your pots and kettles,
And make oil for us in Winter.

And she waited till the sun set,
Till the pallid moon the night-sun,
Rose above the tranquil water,
Till Kayoshk, the sated sea-gulls,

From their banquet rose with clamour,
And across the fiery sunset,

220 Winged their way to far-off islands,

To their nests among the rushes.
To his sleep went Hiawatha,
And Nokomis to her labour.
Toiling patient in the moonlight,

Till the sun and moon changed places,
Till the sky was red with sunrise,
And Kayoshk, the hungry sea-gulls,
Came back from the reedy islands,
Clamorous for their morning banquet.
230 Three whole days and nights alternate
Old Nokomis and the sea-gulls
Stripped the oily flesh of Nahma,

Till the waves washed through the rib-bones,
Till the sea-gulls came no longer,
And upon the sands lay nothing
But the skeleton of Nahma.

IX.

40

He, the mightiest of Magicians,
Sends the fever from the marshes,
Sends the pestilential vapours,
Sends the poisonous exhalations,
Sends the white fog from the fen-lands,
Sends disease and death among us!

"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,
And the oil of Mishe-Nahma,

So to smear its sides, that swiftly
You may pass the black pitch-water;
Slay this inerciless magician,

Save the people from the fever

50 That he breathes across the fen-lands, And avenge my father's murder!"

40.

Straightway then my Hiawatha
Armed himself with all his war-gear,
Launched his birch-canoe for sailing;
With his palm its sides he patted,
Said with glee," Cheemaun, my darling,
O my Birch-Canoc! leap forward,
Where you see the fiery serpents,
Where you see the black pitch-water!"
Forward leaped Cheemaun exulting,
And the noble Hiawatha

Sang his war-song wild and woeful,
And above him the war-eagle,

The Keneu, the great war-eagle,
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 vapours,
So that none could pass beyond them.
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,
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,
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
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:
"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
10. 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.
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,
In their weary night-encampments

да

All the air was white with moonlight, All the water black with shadow, And around him the Suggeina, The mosquitos, sang their war-song, And the fire-flics, Wah-wah-tayscc, Waved their torches to mislead him!

And the bull-frog, the Dahinda, Thrust his head into the moonlight, 20. Fixed his yellow eyes upon him,

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,
Heralded the hero's coming.

Westward thus fared Hiawatha,
Toward the realm of Megissogwon,
Toward the land of the Pearl-Feather,
30. Till the level moon stared at him,

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
Of the Manito of Wampum,

Of the mightiest of Magicians.

Then once more Cheemaun he patted, To his birch-canoe said, "Onward!" 140. And it stirred in all its fibres,

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.

Straight he took his bow of ash-tree,

On the sand one end he rested,

Stretched the faithful bow-string tighter,

With his knee he pressed the middle,

150.

Took an arrow, jasper-headed.

Shot it at the Shining Wigwam,

Sent it singing as a herald,

As a bearer of his message,

Of his challenge loud and lofty

210.

Paused to rest beneath a pine-free,
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
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,

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,

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,
20. Yes, like Pezhekee, the bison,
When the snow is on the prairie.

230.

Came the mighty Megissogwon,

Tall of stature, broad of shoulder,

160.

Dark and terrible in aspect,

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,
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!
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,
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,

10 Deeds are better things than words are, 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,
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,
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,
Leaning on his bow of ash-tree,
Wounded, weary, and desponding,
With his mighty war-club broken,
With his mittens torn and tattered,
200. And three useless arrows only,

240.

Swifter flew the second arrow,
In the pathway of the other.
Piercing deeper than the other,
Wounding sorer than the other,
And the knees of Megissogwen
Shook like windy reeds beneath him,
Bent and trembled like the rushes.

But the third and latest arrow
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
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,
From his perch among the branches
Of the melancholy pine-tree,

And, in honour of his service,

Stained with blood the tuft of feathers
On the little head of Mama:

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,
As a trophy of the battle,

450. As a signal of his conquest.
On the shore he left the body,
Half on land and half on water,
In the sand his feet were buried,

And his face was in the water.

And above him, wheeled and clamoured
The Keneu, the great war-eagle,
Sailing round in narrow circles,
Hovering nearer, nearer, nearer.
From the wigwam Hiawatha

264. Bore the wealth of Megissogwon,
All his wealth of skins and wampum,
Furs of bison and of beaver,

270

Furs of sable and of ermine,

Wampum belts and strings and pouches,

Filled with arrows, silver-headed.

Homeward then he sailed exulting,

Homeward through the black-pitch water,
Homeward through the weltering serpents,
With the trophies of the battle,

With a shout and song of trium; h.

On the shore stood old Nokomis,

On the shore stood Chibiabos,

And the very strong man, Kwasind,
Waiting for the hero's coming,
Listening to his song of triumph.
And the people of the village

Welcomed him with songs and dances,
Made a joyous feast, and shouted:
"Honour be to Hiawatha!

280 He has slain the great Pearl-Feather,
Slain the mightiest of Magicians,

Him, who sent the fiery fever,
Sent the white fog from the fen-lands,
Sent disease and death amongst us!"
Ever dear to Hiawatha

Was the memory of Mama!
And in token of his friendship,
As a mark of his remembrance,
He adorned and decked his pipe-stem
7. With the crimson tuft of feathers,
With the blood-red crest of Manra.
But the wealth of Megissogwon,
All the trophies of the battle,
He divided with his people,
Shared it equally among them.

X.

HIAWATHA'S WOOING.

"As unto the bow the cord is, So unto the man is woman,

Though she bends him, she obeys him,
Though she draws him, yet she follows,
Useless each without the other!"

Thus the youthful Hiawatha,
Said within himself and pondered,
Much perplexed by various feelings,
Listless, longing, hoping, fearing,
Dreaming still of Minnehaha,
Of the lovely Laughing Water,
In the land of the Dacotahs.

Wed a maiden of your people,"
Warning said the old Nokomis;
"Go not eastward, go not westward,
For a stranger, whom we know not!
Like a fire upon the hearthstone
Is a neighbour's homely daughter,
Like the starlight or the moonlight
Is the handsomest of strangers!"

Thus dissuading spake Nokomis,
And my Hiawatha answered
Only this: "Dear old Nokomis,
Very pleasant is the firelight,
But I like the starlight better,
Better do I like the moonlight!"

Gravely then said old Nokomis
"Bring not here an idle maiden,
Bring not here a useless woman,
Hands unskilful, feet unwilling;
Bring a wife with nimble fingers,
Heart and hand that move together,
Feet that run on willing errands!"
Smiling answered Hiawatha:
"In the land of the Dacotahs
Lives the Arrow-maker's daughter,
Minnehaha, Laughing Water,
Handsomest of all the women.
I will bring her to your wigwam,
She shall run upon your errands.
Be your starlight, moonlight, firelight,
Be the sunlight of my people.

Still dissuading said Nokomis: Bring not to my lodge a stranger From the land of the Dacotahs! Very fierce are the Dacotahs, Often is there war between us, There are feuds yot unforgotten, Wounds that ache and still may open!" Laughing answered Hiawatha: For that reason, if no other, Would I wed the fair Dacotah. That our tribes might be united, That old feuds might be forgotten. And old wounds be healed for ever!" Thus departed Hiawatha

To the land of the Dacotahs,

To the land of the handsome women:
Striding over moor and meadow,
Through interminable forests,
Through uninterrupted silence.
With his moccasins of magic,

At each stride a mile he measured;

Yet the way seemed long before him,
And his heart outrun his footsteps;
And he journeyed without resting,
Till he heard the cataract's laughter,
Heard the falls of Minnehaha
Calling to him through the silence.
"Pleasant is the sound!" he murmured,
"Pleasant is the voice that calls me!"
On the outskirts of the forest,
'Twixt the shadow and the sunshine,
Herds of fallow deer were feeding,
But they saw not Hiawatha;

To his bow he whispered "Fail not!"
To his arrow whispered "Swerve not!"
Sent it singing on its errand,

To the red heart of the roebuck:
Threw the deer across his shoulder,
And sped forward without pausing.
At the doorway of his wigwam
Sat the ancient Arrow-maker
In the land of the Dacotahs,
Making arrow-heads of jasper,
Arrow-heads of chalcedony.
At his side in all her beauty,
Sat the lovely Minnehaha,

Sat his daughter, Laughing Water,
Plaiting mats of flags and rushes;
Of the past the old man's thoughts were,
And the Maiden's of the future.

He was thinking, as he sat there,
Of the days when with such arrows
He had struck the deer and bison,
On the Muskoday, the meadow;
Shot the wild goose, flying southward,
On the wing, the clamorous Wawa;
Thinking of the great war-parties,
How they came to buy his arrows,
Could not fight without his arrows.
Ah, no more such noble warriors
Could be found on earth as they were!
Now the men were all like women,
Only used their tongues for weapons!
She was thinking of a hunter,
From another tribe and country,
Young and tall and very handsome,
Who one morning, in the Spring-time,
Came to buy her father's arrows,
Sat and rested in the wigwam,
Lingered long about the doorway,
Looking back as he departed.

She had heard her father praise him,
Praise his courage and his wisdom;
Would he come again for arrows,

To the falls of Minnehaha?

On the mat her hands lay idle,
And her eyes were very dreamy.

Through their thoughts they heard a footstep, Heard a rustling in the branches,

And with glowing cheek and forehead,
With the deer upon his shoulders,
Suddenly from out the woodlands'
Iliawatha stood before them.

Straight the ancient Arrow-maker
Looked up gravely from his labour,
Laid aside the unfinished arrow,
Bade him enter at the doorway,
Saying as he rose to meet him,
Hiawatha, you are welcome!"
At the feet of Laughing Water
Hiawatha laid his burden,
Threw the red deer from his shoulders;
And the maiden looked up at him,
Looked up from her mat of rushes,
Said with gentle look and accent,
You are welcome, Hiawatha!"
Very spacious was the wigwam,
Made of deer-skin dressed and whitened,
With the gods of the Dacotahs
Drawn and painted on its curtains,
And so tall the doorway, hardly
Hiawatha stooped to enter,
Hardly touched his eagle-feathers
As he entered at the doorway.

Then uprose the Laughing Water,
From the ground fair Minnehaha,
Laid aside her mat unfinished,
Brought forth food and set before them,
Water brought them from the brooklet,
Gave them food in earthen vessels,
Gave them drink in bowls of bass-wood,
Listened while the guest was speaking,
Listened while her father answered,
But not once her lips she opened,
Not a single word she uttered.

Yes, as in a dream she listened
To the words of Hiawatha,
As he talked of old Nokomis,

Who had nursed him in his childhood,
As he told of his companions,
Chibiabos, the musician,

And the very strong man, Kwasind,
And of happiness and plenty
In the land of the Ojibways,
In the pleasant land and peaceful.
"After many years of warfare,
Many years of strife and bloodshed,
There is peace between the Ojibways
And the tribe of the Dacotahs."
Thus continued Hiawatha,

And then added, speaking slowly,
"That this peace may last for ever,
And our hands be clasped more closely,
And our hearts be more united,
Give me as my wife this maiden,
Minnehaha, Laughing Water,
Loveliest of Dacotah women!"

And the ancient Arrow-maker
Paused a moment ere he answered,
Smoked a little while in silence,
Looked at Hiawatha proudly,
Fondly looked at Laughing Water,
And made answer very gravely:
"Yes, if Minnehaha wishes;
Let your heart speak, Minnehaha!"
And the lovely Laughing Water
Seemed more lovely as she stood there.
Neither willing nor reluctant,
As she went to Hiawatha,
Softly took the seat beside him,
While she said, and blushed to say it,
"I will follow you, my husband!"
This was Hiawatha's wooing!
Thus it was he won the daughter
Of the ancient Arrow-maker,
In the land of the Dacotahs!

From the wigwam he departed,
Leading with him Laughing Water;
Hand in hand they went together,
Through the woodland and the meadow,
Left the old man standing lonely
At the doorway of his wigwam,
Heard the falls of Minnehaha
Calling to them from the distance,
Crying to them from afar off.

Fare thee well, O Minnehaha!"
And the ancient Arrow-maker
Turned again unto his labour.
Sat down by his sunny doorway,
Murmuring to himself, and saying:

Thus it is our daughters leave us.
Those we love, and those who love us!
Just when they have learned to help us,
When we are old and lean upon thein,
Comes a youth with flaunting feathers,
With his flute of reeds, a stranger
Wanders piping through the village,
Beckons to the fairest maiden,
And she follows where he leads her,
Leaving all things for the stranger!
Pleasant was the journey homeward,
Through interminable forests,
Over meadow, over mountain,
Over river, hill, and hollow.

Short it seemed to Hiawatha,

Though they journeyed very slowly,

Though his pace he checked and slackened

To the steps of Laughing Water.
Over wide and rushing rivers
In his arms he bore the maiden:
Light he thought her as a feather,
As the plume upon his head-gear:
Cleared the tangled pathway for her,
Bent aside the swaying branches,
Made at night a lodge of branches,
And a bed with boughs of hemlock,
And a fire before the doorway
With the dry cones of the pine-tree.

All the travelling winds went with them,
O'er the meadow, through the forest;
All the stars of night looked at them,
Watched with sleepless eyes their slumber;
From his ambush in the oak-tree
Peeped the squirrel Adjidaumo,
Watched with cager eyes the lovers;
And the rabbit, the Wabasso,
Scampered from the path before them,
Peering, peeping from his burrow,
Sat erect upon his haunches,
Watched with curious eyes the lovers:

Pleasant was the journey homeward! All the birds sang loud and sweetly Songs of happiness and heart's-ease; Sang the blue-bird, the Owaissa,

Happy are you, Hiawatha, Having such a wife to love you!" Sang the robin, the Opechee.

Happy are you, Laughing Water,
Having such a noble husband!"

From the sky the sun benignant
Looked upon them through the branches,
Saying to them, "O my children,
Love is sunshine, hate is shadow,
Life is chequered shade and sunshine,
Rule by love, O Hiawatha!"

From the sky the moon looked at them,
Filled the lodge with mystic splendours,
Whispered to them, "O my children,
Day is restless, night is quiet,

Man imperious, woman feeble:
Half is inine, although I follow:
Rule by patience, Laughing Water!"

Thus it was they journeyed homeward;

Thus it was that Hiawatha

To the lodge of Old Nokomis

Brought the moonlight, starlight, firelight,
Brought the sunshine of his people,
Minnehaha, Laughing Water,
Handsomest of all the women
In the land of the Dacotahs,

In the land of handsome women

XI.

HIAWATHA'S WEDDING-FEAST.

You shall hear how Pan-Puk-Keewis,
How the handsome Yenadizze
Danced at Hiawatha's wedding;

How the gentle Chibiabos,
He the sweetest of musicians,
Sang his songs of love and longing:
How Iagoo, the great boaster,
He the marvellous story-teller,
Told his tale of strange adventure,
That the feast might be more joyous,
That the time might pass more gayly,
And the guests be more contented.
Sumptuous was the feast Nokomis
Made at Hiawatha's wedding;
All the bowls were made of bass-wood.
White and polished very smoothly.
All the spoons of horn of bison.
Black and polished very smoothly,
She had sent through all the villago
Messengers with wands of willow,
As a sign of invitation,

As a token of the feasting:
And the wedding guests assembled: