90 VII. HIAWATHA'S SAILING. "GIVE me of your bark, O Birch-Tree! I a light canoe will build me, That shall float upon the river, Like a yellow leaf in Autumn, Like a yellow water-lily! "Lay aside your cloak, O Birch-Tree! Lay aside your white-skin wrapper, For the Summer-time is coming, And the sun is warm in heaven, And you need no white-skin wrapper!" Thus aloud cried Hiawatha In the solitary forest, By the rushing Taquamenaw, When the birds were singing gayly, And the tree with all its branches Just beneath its lowest branches, Just above the roots, he cut it, Till the sap came oozing outward; With a wooden wedge he raised it, “Give me of your boughs, O Cedar! Make more strong and firm beneath me!” Through the summit of the Cedar Went a sound, a cry of horror, Went a murmur of resistance; But it whispered, bending downward, “Take my boughs, O Hiawatha ! Down he hewed the boughs of cedar, Shaped them straightway to a framework, Like two bows he formed and shaped them, Like two bended bows together. Of "Give me of your roots, O Tamarack! your fibrous roots, O Larch-Tree! My canoe to bind together, So to bind the ends together That the water may not enter, That the river may not wet me!" From the earth he tore the fibres, Tore the tough roots of the Larch-Tree, Bound it closely to the framework. That the water may not enter, That the river may not wet me!" And the Fir-Tree, tall and sombre, Sobbed through all its robes of darkness, Rattled like a shore with pebbles, Answered wailing, answered weeping, "Take my balm, O Hiawatha!" And he took the tears of balsam, Took the resin of the Fir-Tree, Smeared therewith each seam and fissure, Made each crevice safe from water. "Give me of your quills, O Hedgehog! All your quills, O Kagh, the Hedgehog! I will make a necklace of them, Make a girdle for my beauty, And two stars to deck her bosom !" From a hollow tree the Hedgehog With his sleepy eyes looked at him, Shot his shining quills, like arrows, Saying, with a drowsy murmur, Through the tangle of his whiskers, "Take my quills, O Hiawatha ! ” From the ground the quills he gathered, All the little shining arrows, Stained them red and blue and yellow, Into his canoe he wrought them, |