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rom the Valley of Wyoming,

I have given you streams to fish in, rom the groves of Tuscaloosa, I have given you bear and bison, rom the far-off Rocky Mountains, I have given you roe and reindeer, om the Northern lakes and rivers I have given you brant and beaver, ll the tribes beheld the signal, Filled the marshes full of wild-fowl, iw the distant smoke ascending, Filled the rivers full of fishes ; he Pukwana of the Peace-Pipe. Why then are you not contented ?

And the Prophets of the nations Why then will you hunt each other? aid : “Behold it, the Pukwana ! I am weary of your quarrels, y this signal from afar off,

Weary of your wars and bloodshed, -nding like a wand of willow,

Weary of your prayers for vengeance, Vaving like a hand that beckons, Of your wranglings and dissensions ; itche Vanito, the mighty,

All your strength is in your union, alls the tribes of men together, All your danger is in discord ; alls the warriors to his council !”. Therefore be at peace henceforward,

Down the rivers, o'er the prairies, And as brothers live together. ame the warriors of the nations,

“I will send a Prophet to you, 'ame the Delawares and Mohawks, A Deliverer of the nations, 'ame the Choctaws and Camanches, Who shall guide you and shall teach you, ame the Shoshonies and Blackfeet, Who shall toil and suffer with you. ame the Pawnees and Omahas, If you listen to his counsels, ame the Mandans and Dacotahs, You will multiply and prosper ; ame the Hurons and Ojibways, If his warnings pass unheeded, All the warriors drawn together You will fade away and perish ! By the signal of the Peace-Pipe,

“ Bathe now in the stream before you, to the Mountains of the Prairie, Wash the war-paint from your faces, Co the great Red Pipe-stone Quarry. Wash the blood-stains from your fingers,

And they stood there on the meadow, Bury your war-clubs and your weapons, With their weapons and their war-gear, Break the red stone from this quarry, Painted like the leaves of Autumn, Mould and make it into Peace-Pipes, Painted like the sky of morning,

Take the reeds that

grow
beside

you, Wildly glaring at each other;

Deck them with your brightest feathers, in their faces stern defiance,

Smoke the calumet together, In their hearts the feuds of ages, And as brothers live henceforward !” The hereditary hatred,

Then upon the ground the warriors The ancestral thirst of vengeance. Threw their cloaks and shirts of deerGitche Manito, the mighty,

skin, The creator of the nations,

Threw their weapons and their war-gear, Looked upon them with compassion, Leaped into the rushing river, With paternal love and pity;

Washed the war-paint from their faces. Looked upon their wrath and wrangling ('lear above them flowed the water, But as quarrels among children, Clear and limpid from the footprints But as feuds and fights of children ! Of the Master of Life descending ;

Over them he stretched his right hand, Dark below them flowed the water, To subdue their stubborn natures, Soiled and stained with streaks of crimTo allay their thirst and fever, By the shadow of his right hand ; As if blood were mingled with it ! Spake to them with voice majestic From the river came the warriors, As the sound of far-off waters,

C'lean and washed from all their warFalling into deep abysses,

paint ; Warning, chiding, spake in this wise : On the banks their clubs they buried,

O my children ! my poor children ! Buried all their warlike weapons. Listen to the words of wisdom,

Gitche Manito, the mighty,
Listen to the words of warning, The Great Spirit, the creator,
From the lips of the Great Spirit, Smiled upon his helpless children !
From the Master of Life, who made you And in silence all the warriors

“ I have given you lands to hunt in, Broke the red stone of the quarry,

son,

Smoothed and formed it into Peace- Standing fearlessly before him.
Pipes,

Taunted him in loud derision,
Broke the long reeds by the river, Spake disdainfully in this wise : -
Decked them with their brightest feath- “Hark you, Bear! you are a cowar
ers,

And no Brave, as you pretended ; And departed each one homeward, Else you would not cry and whimper While the Master of Life, ascending,

Like a miserable woman ! Through the opening of cloud-curtains, Bear! you know our tribes are hostile Through the doorways of the heaven, Long have been at war together; Vanished from before their faces, Now you find that we are strongest, In the smoke that rolled around him, You go sneaking in the forest, The Pukwana of the Peace-Pipe ! You go hiding in the mountains !

Had you conquered me in battle

Not a groan would I have uttered ; II.

But you, Bear! sit here and whiniper,

And disgrace your tribe by crying, THE FOUR WINDS.

Like a wretched Shaugodaya,

Like a cowardly old woman!” “Honor be to Mudjekeewis !”.

Then again he raised his war-club, Cried the warriors, cried the old men, Smote again the Mishe-Mokwa When he came in triumph homeward In the middle of his forehead, With the sacred Belt of Wampum, Broke his skull, as ice is broken From the regions of the North-Wind, When one goes to fish in Winter. From the kingdom of Wabasso,

Thus was slain the Mishe-Mokwa, From the land of the White Rabbit. He the Great Bear of the mountains,

He had stolen the Belt of Wampum He the terror of the nations. From the neck of Mishe-Mokwa,

Honor be to Mudjekeewis !” From the Great Bear of the mountains, With a shout exclaimed the people, From the terror of the nations,

* Honor be to Mudjekeewis ! As he lay asleep and cumbrous

Henceforth he shall be the West-Wind, On the summit of the mountains, And hereafter and forever Like a rock with mosses on it,

Shall he hold supreme dominion Spotted brown and gray with mosses. Over all the winds of heaven. Silently he stole upon him,

Call him no more Mudjekeewis, Till the red nails of the monster Call him Kabeyun, the West-Wind !” Almost touched him, almost scared him, Thus was Mudjekeewis chosen Till the hot breath of his nostrils

Father of the Winds of Heaven. Warmed the hands of Mudjekeewis, For himself he kept the West-Wind, As he drew the Belt of Wampum Gave the others to his children ; Over the round ears, that heard not, Unto Wabun gave the East-Wind, Over the small eyes, that saw not, Gave the South to Shawandasee, Over the long nose and nostrils, And the North-Wind, wild and cruel, The black muffle of the nostrils, To the fierce Kabibonokka. Ont of which the heavy breathing Young and beautiful was Wabun ; Warmed the hands of Mudjekeewis. He it was who brought the morning,

Then he swung aloft his war-club, He it was whose silver arrows Shouted loud and long his war-cry,

Chased the dark o'er hill and valley ; Smote the mighty Mishe-Mokwa He it was whose cheeks were painted In the middle of the forehead,

With the brightest streaks of crimson, Right between the eyes he smote him. And whose voice awoke the village,

With the heavy blow bewildered, Called the deer, and called the hunter. Rose the Great Bear of the mountains ; Lonely in the sky was Wabun ; But his knees beneath him trembled, Though the birds sang gayly to him, And he whimpered like a woman, Though the wild-flowers of the meadow As he reeled and staggered forward, Filled the air with oilors for him, As he sat upon his haunches ;

Though the forests and the rivers And the mighty Mudjekeewis,

Sang and shouted at his coming,

11 his heart was sad within him, Trailing strings of fish behind him, r he was alone in heaven.

O'er the frozen fons and moorlands, But one morning, gazing earthward, Lingering still among the moorlands, nile the village still was sleeping, Though his tribe had long departed d the fog lay on the river,

To the land of Shawondasee. se a ghost, that goes at sunrise, Cried the fierce Kabibonokka, beheld a maiden walking

" Who is this that dares to brave me? | alone upon a measlow,

Dares to stay in my dominions, thering water-flags and rushes When the Wawa has departeil, a river in the meadow.

When the wild-goose has gone southEvery morning, gazing earthward,

ward, ill the first thing he beheld there And the heron, the Shuh-shuh-gah, as her blue eyes looking at him, Long ago departed southward ? vo blue lakes among the rushes. I will go into his wigwam, d he loved the lonely maiden, I will put his smouldering fire out !” ho thus waited for his coming ;

And at night Kabibonokka ir they both were solitary,

To the lodge came wild and wailing, le on earth and he in heaven.

Heaped the snow in drifts about it, And he wooed her with caresses, Shouted down into the smoke-flue, ooed her with his smile of sunshine, Shook the lodge-poles in his fury, ith his flattering words he wooed her, Flapped the curtain of the door-way. ith his sighing and his singing, Shingebis, the diver, feared not, entlest whispers in the branches, Shingebis, the diver, cared not ; ftest music, sweetest odors,

Four great logs had he for firewood, 11 he drew her to his bosom,

One for each moon of the winter, olded in his robes of crimson,

And for food the fishes served him. ll into a star he changeul her,

By his blazing fire he sat there, 'embling still upon his bosom ; Warm and merry, eating, laughing, nd forever in the heavens

Singing, “O Kabibonokka, hey are seen together walking,

You are but my fellow-mortal!” 'abun and the Wabun-Annung,

Then Kabibonokka entered, abun and the Star of Morning. And though Shingebis, the diver, But the fierce Kabibonokka

Felt his presence by the coldness, ad his dwelling among icebergs, Felt his icy breath upon him, I the everlasting snow-cirifts,

Still he did not cease his singing, i the kingilom of Wabasso,

Still he did not leave his laughing, i the land of the White Rabbit. Only turned the log a little, e it was whos : hand in Autumn Only made the fire burn brighter, ainted all the trees with scarlet, Made the sparks fly up the smoke-flue. tained the leaves with red and yellow; From Kabibonokka's forehead, le it was who sent the snow-flakes, From his snow-besprinkled tresses, ifting, hissing through the forest, Drops of sweat fell fast and heavy, roze the ponds, the lakes, the rivers, Making dints upon the ashes, rove the loon and sea-gull southward, As along the eaves of lodges, rove the cormorant and curlew As from drooping boughs of hemlock, o their nests of sedge and sea-tang Drips the melting snow in spring-time, n the realms of Shawondasee.

Making hollows in the snow-cirifts. Once the fierce Kabibonokka

Till at last he rose defeated, ssued from his lodge of snow-(Irifts, Could not bear the heat and laughter, from his home among the icebergs, Could not bear the merry singing, ind his hair, with snow besprinkled, But rushed headlong through the doortreamed behind him like a river,

way, ike a black and wintry river,

Stamped upon the crusted snow-drifts, is he howled and hurried southward, Stamped upon the lakes and rivers, Tver frozen lakes and moorlands. Made the snow upon them harder,

There among the reeds and rushes Made the ice upon them thicker, found he Shingebis, the diver, Challenged Shingebis, the liver,

To come forth and wrestle with him, Only sat and sighed with passion
To come forth and wrestle naked For the maiden

of the prairie. On the frozen fens and moorlands.

Till one morning, looking northwar Forth went Shingebis, the diver, He beheld her yellow tresses Wrestled all night with the North-Wind, Changed and covered o'er with whi Wrestled naked on the moorlands

ness, With the fierce Kabibonokka,

Covered as with whitest snow-flakes. Till his panting breath grew fainter, “Ah! my brother from the Nor Till his frozen grasp grew feebler,

land, Till he reeled and staggered backward, From the kingdom of Wabasso, And retreated, baffled, beaten,

From the land of the White Rabbit ! To the kingdom of Wabasso,

You have stolen the maiden from me, To the land of the White Rabbit, You have laid your hand upon her, Hearing still the gusty laughter, You have wooed and won my maiden, Hearing Shingebis, the diver,

With your stories of the North-land ! Singing, “0 Kabibonokka,

Thus the wretched Shawondasee You are but my fellow-mortal !” Breathed into the air his sorrow; Shawondasee, fat and lazy,

And the South-Wind o'er the prairie Had his dwelling far to southward, Wandered warm with sighs of passion In the drowsy, dreamy sunshine, With the sighs of Shawondasee, In the never-ending Summer.

Till the air seemed full of snow-flakes, He it was who sent the wood-birds, Full of thistle-down the prairie, Sent the robin, the pechee,

And the maid with hair like sunshine Sent the bluebird, the Owaissa,

Vanished from his sight forever ;
Sent the Shawshaw, sent the swallow, Never more did Shawondasee
Sent the wild-goose, Wawa, northward, See the maid with yellow tresses !
Sent the melons and tobacco,

Poor, deluded Shawondasee !
And the grapes in purple clusters. 'T was no woman that you gazed at,

From his pipe the smoke ascending 'T was no maiden that you sighed for, Filled the sky with haze and vapor, 'T was the prairie dandelion Filled the air with dreamy softness, That through all the dreamy Summer Gave a twinkle to the water,

You had gazed at with such longing, Touched the rugged hills with smooth. You had sighed for with such passion, ness,

And had puffed away forever, Brought the tender Indian Summer Blown into the air with sighing. To the melancholy north-land,

Ah ! deluded Shawondasee ! In the dreary Moon of Snow-shoes. Thus the Four Winds were divided

Listless, careless Shawondasee ! Thus the sons of Mudjekeewis In his life he had one shallow,

Had their stations in the heavens, In his heart one sorrow had he.

At the corners of the heavens ;
Once, as he was gazing northward, For himself the West-Wind only
Far away upon a prairie

Kept the mighty Mudjekeewis.
He beheld a maiden standing,
Saw a tall and slender maiden
All alone upon a prairie ;

III.
Brightest green were all her garments,
And her hair was like the sunshine.

HIAWATHA'S CHILDHOOD.
Day by day he gazed upon her,
Day by day he sighed with passion, DOWNWARD through the evening tu
Day by day his heart within him

light, Grew more hot with love and longing In the days that are forgotten, For the maid with yellow tresses.

In the unremembered ages, But he was too fat and lazy

From the full moon fell Nokomis, To bestir himself and woo her ;

Fell the beautiful Nokomis, Yes, too indolent and easy

She a wife, but not a mother. To pursue her and persuade her.

She was sporting with her women So lie only gazed upon her,

Swinging in a swing of grape vines,

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