"Nushka! you shall have a sweetheart,

You shall have a handsome husband!
"Ugh!" the old men all responded
From their seats beneath the pine-trees.
And whene'er a youth or maiden
Found a crooked ear in husking,
Found a maize ear in the husking
Blighted, mildewed, or misshapen,
Then they laughed and sang together,
Crept and limped about the corn-fields,
Mimicked in their gait and gestures
Some old man, bent almost double,
Singing singly or together:

"Wagemin, the thief of corn-fields!
Paimosaid, who steals the maize-ear!"
Till the corn-fields rang with laughter,
Till from Hiawatha's wigwam

Kahgahgee, the King of Ravens,
Screamed and quivered in his anger,

And from all the neighboring tree-tops

Cawed and croaked the black marauders. "Ugh!" the old men all responded,

From their seats beneath the pine-trees!

188

XIV.

PICTURE-WRITING.

In those days said Hiawatha,
"Lo! how all things fade and perish!
From the memory of the old men
Pass away the great traditions,

- The achievements of the warriors,
The adventures of the hunters,

All the wisdom of the Medas,

All the craft of the Wabenos,

All the marvellous dreams and visions

Of the Jossakeeds, the Prophets!

"Great men die and are forgotten,

Wise men speak; their words of wisdom

Perish in the ears that hear them,
Do not reach the generations
That, as yet unborn, are waiting
In the great, mysterious darkness
Of the speechless days that shall be!
"On the grave-posts of our fathers
Are no signs, no figures painted;
Who are in those graves we know not,
Only know they are our fathers.
Of what kith they are and kindred,
From what old, ancestral Totem,
Be it Eagle, Bear, or Beaver,
They descended, this we know not,
Only know they are our fathers.

"Face to face we speak together,

But we cannot speak when absent,
Cannot send our voices from us
To the friends that dwell afar off;

Cannot send a secret message,

But the bearer learns our secret,

May pervert it, may betray it,

May reveal it unto others.”

Thus said Hiawatha, walking

In the solitary forest,

Pondering, musing in the forest,
On the welfare of his people.

From his pouch he took his colors,
Took his paints of different colors,
On the smooth bark of a birch-tree
Painted many shapes and figures,
Wonderful and mystic figures,

And each figure had a meaning,

Each some word or thought suggested.

Gitche Manito the Mighty,

He, the Master of Life, was painted

As an egg, with points projecting

To the four winds of the heavens.
Everywhere is the Great Spirit,
Was the meaning of this symbol.
Mitche Manito the Mighty,