hiawatha

 Nahma, King of Fishes,

“I have slain the Mishe-Nahma,

Slain the King of Fishes!” said he;

Yes!” replied Ahmeek, the beaver,

He the King of all the beavers,

“Let yourself slide down among us,

Down into the tranquil water.”

Robed with darkness as a garment.

“Thus the fields shall be more fruitful,

And the passing of your footsteps

Draw a magic circle round them,

So that neither blight nor mildew,

Neither burrowing worm nor insect,

Shall pass o’er the magic circle;

Not the dragon-fly, Kwo-ne-she,

Nor the spider, Subbekashe,

Nor the grasshopper, Pah-puk-keena;

Nor the mighty caterpillar,

Way-muk-kwana, with the bear-skin,

King of all the caterpillars!”

On the tree-tops near the cornfields

Sat the hungry crows and ravens,

Kahgahgee, the King of Ravens,

With his band of black marauders.

And they laughed at Hiawatha,

Till the tree-tops shook with laughter,

With their melancholy laughter,

At the words of Hiawatha.

“Hear him!” said they; “hear the Wise Man,

Hear the plots of Hiawatha!”

When the noiseless night descended

Broad and dark o’er field and forest,

When the mournful Wawonaissa

Sorrowing sang among the hemlocks,

And the Spirit of Sleep, Nepahwin,

Shut the doors of all the wigwams,

From her bed rose Laughing Water,

Laid aside her garments wholly,

And with darkness clothed and guarded,

Unashamed and unaffrighted,

Walked securely round the cornfields,

Drew the sacred, magic circle

Of her footprints round the cornfields.

No one but the Midnight only

Saw her beauty in the darkness,

No one but the Wawonaissa

Heard the panting of her bosom

Guskewau, the darkness, wrapped her

Closely in his sacred mantle,

So that none might see her beauty,

So that none might boast, “I saw her!”

On the morrow, as the day dawned,

Kahgahgee, the King of Ravens,

Gathered all his black marauders,

Crows and blackbirds, jays and ravens,

Clamorous on the dusky tree-tops,

And descended, fast and fearless,

On the fields of Hiawatha,

On the grave of the Mondamin.

Round about him spun the landscape,

Sky and forest reeled together,

And his strong heart leaped within him,

As the sturgeon leaps and struggles

In a net to break its meshes.

Like a ring of fire around him

Blazed and flared the red horizon,

And a hundred suns seemed looking

At the combat of the wrestlers.

Suddenly upon the greensward

All alone stood Hiawatha,