III.

       Hiawatha’s Childhood.

       Table of Contents

      Downward through the evening twilight,

       In the days that are forgotten,

       In the unremembered ages,

       From the full moon fell Nokomis,

       Fell the beautiful Nokomis,

       She a wife but not a mother.

      She was sporting with her women,

       Swinging in a swing of grape-vines,

       When her rival, the rejected,

       Full of jealousy and hatred,

       Cut the leafy swing asunder,

       Cut in twain the twisted grape-vines,

       And Nokomis fell affrighted

       Downward through the evening twilight,

       On the Muskoday, the meadow,

       On the prairie full of blossoms.

       “See! a star falls!” said the people;

       “From the sky a star is falling!”

      There among the ferns and mosses,

       There among the prairie lilies,

       On the Muskoday, the meadow,

       In the moonlight and the starlight,

       Fair Nokomis bore a daughter.

       And she called her name Wenonah,

       As the first-born of her daughters.

       And the daughter of Nokomis

       Grew up like the prairie lilies,

       Grew a tall and slender maiden,

       With the beauty of the moonlight,

       With the beauty of the starlight.

      And Nokomis warned her often,

       Saying oft, and oft repeating,

       “Oh, beware of Mudjekeewis,

       Of the West-Wind, Mudjekeewis;

       Listen not to what he tells you;

       Lie not down upon the meadow,

       Stoop not down among the lilies,

       Lest the West-Wind come and harm you!”

      But she heeded not the warning,

       Heeded not those words of wisdom.

       And the West-Wind came at evening,

       Walking lightly o’er the prairie,

       Whispering to the leaves and blossoms,

       Bending low the flowers and grasses,

       Found the beautiful Wenonah,

       Lying there among the lilies,

       Wooed her with his words of sweetness,

       Wooed her with his soft caresses,

       Till she bore a son in sorrow,

       Bore a son of love and sorrow,

      Thus was born my Hiawatha,

       Thus was born the child of wonder;

       But the daughter of Nokomis,

       Hiawatha’s gentle mother,

       In her anguish died deserted

       By the West-Wind, false and faithless,

       By the heartless Mudjekeewis.

      For her daughter, long and loudly

       Wailed and wept the sad Nokomis;

       “Oh that I were dead!” she murmured,

       “Oh that I were dead, as thou art!

       No more work, and no more weeping,

       Wahonowin! Wahonowin!”

      By the shores of Gitche Gumee,

       By the shining Big-Sea-Water,

       Stood the wigwam of Nokomis

       Daughter of the Moon, Nokomis.

       Dark behind it rose the forest,

       Rose the black and gloomy pine-trees,

       Rose the firs with cones upon them;

       Bright before it beat the water,

       Beat the clear and sunny water,

       Beat the shining Big-Sea-Water.

      There the wrinkled old Nokomis

       Nursed the little Hiawatha,

       Rocked him in his linden cradle,

       Bedded soft in moss and rushes,

       Safely bound with reindeer sinews;

       Stilled his fretful wail by saying,

       “Hush! the Naked Bear will hear thee!”

       Lulled him into slumber, singing,

       “Ewa-yea! my little owlet!

       Who is this, that lights the wigwam?

       With his great eyes lights the wigwam?

       Ewa-yea! my little owlet!”

      Many things Nokomis taught him

       Of the stars that shine in heaven;

       Showed him Ishkoodah, the comet,

       Ishkoodah, with fiery tresses;

       Showed the Death-Dance of the spirits,

       Warriors with their plumes and war-clubs

       Flaring far away to northward

       In the frosty nights of Winter;

       Showed the broad white road in heaven,

       Pathway of the ghosts, the shadows,

       Running straight across the heavens,

       Crowded with the ghosts, the shadows.

      At the door on summer evenings

       Sat the little Hiawatha;

       Heard the whispering of the pine-trees,

       Heard the lapping of the waters,

       Sounds of music, words of wonder;

       “Minne-wawa!” said the pine-trees.

       “Mudway-aushka!” said the water.

      Saw the fire-fly, Wah-wah-taysee,

       Flitting through the dusk of evening,

       With the twinkle of its candle

       Lighting up the brakes and bushes,

       And he sang the song of children,

       Sang the song Nokomis taught him:

       “Wah-wah-taysee, little fire-fly,

       Little, flitting, white-fire insect,

       Little, dancing, white-fire creature,

       Light me with your little