Part 3 — HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW

Henry Wadsworth Longfellow (1807-1882) was a native of Maine and a graduate of Bowdoin College, in the same class with Nathaniel Hawthorne. Longfellow came of early New England ancestry, his mother being a daughter of General Wadsworth of the Revolutionary War.

After his graduation from college he spent several years abroad and upon his return to America held professorships first in Bowdoin and later in Harvard College. When he moved to Cambridge and began his active work at Harvard, he took up his residence in the historic Craigie House, overlooking the Charles River-a house in which Washington had been quartered for some months when in 1775 he took command of the Continental army.

Longfellow is the poet who has spoken most sincerely and sympathetically to the hearts of the common people and to children. His style is notable for its simplicity and grace. His Hiawatha is a national poem that records the picturesque traditions of the American Indian. Its charm and melody are the delight of all children, and in years to come, when the race which it describes has utterly disappeared, we shall value at even higher worth these stories of the romantic past of America and of the brave people who inhabited these mountains and plains before the white man came.

Besides Indian stories, Longfellow wrote many narratives in verse dealing with old legends of America. "The Skeleton in Armor" is an example of the legends about European explorers who came here before the days of Columbus. Evangehne and The Courtship of Miles Standish are longer poems which find their subjects in early colonial history. He wrote also of legends of Europe, and was well acquainted with stories and romances of older civilizations than ours. Equally well-known poems, of a different type, are those in which household joys and sorrows give the theme. Longfellow is the poet of the home-life, of simple hopes, of true religious faith. His spirit was the Spirit of a child, affectionate, loyal, eager for romance and knightly adventure. He is the "Children's Poet," as the poem "The Children's Hour" helps to show. There were sorrows as well as joys in his life, and this is why we go to him in trouble and why so many people know his poems by heart. Sorrow never took away his faith or made him bitter. He is genial and kindly, the friend—of all Americans everywhere.

THE ARROW AND THE SONG

I shot an arrow into the air; It Fell to earth, I knew not where; For, so swiftly it flew, the sight Could not follow it in its flight.

I breathed a Song into the air; It fell to earth, I knew not where; For who has sight so keen and strong That it can follow the flight of Song?

Long, long afterwards, in an oak I found the arrow, still unbroke; And the song, from beginning to end, I found again in the heart of a friend.

NOTES AND QUESTIONS

Discussion: 1. What became of the arrow? Of the song? 2. Where was the arrow found? When? 3. Where was the Song found? 4. Point out lines that rime. 5. What is Longfellow's purpose in this poem? 6. Why is the poet's song compared to the flight of an arrow? 7. A poet once said, "Let me make the Songs of a nation, and I care not who makes the laws." What did he mean? 8. What was the Song doing "in the heart of a friend"?

Phrases for Study

breathed a song, flight of Song.

THE CHILDREN'S HOUR

Between the dark and the daylight, When the night is beginning to lower, Comes a pause in the day's occupations, That is known as the Children's Hour.

I hear in the chamber above me The patter of little feet, The Sound of a door that is opened, And voices soft and sweet.

From my study I See in the lamplight, Descending the broad hall stair, Grave Alice, and laughing Allegra. And Edith with golden hair.

A whisper, and then a silence; Yet I know by their merry eyes They are plotting and planning together To take me by surprise.

A sudden rush from the stairway, A sudden raid from the hall! By three doors left unguarded They enter my castle wall!

They climb up into my turret O'er the arms and back of my chair; If I try to escape, they surround me; They seem to be everywhere.

They almost devour me with kisses; Their arms about me entwine; Till I think of the Bishop of Bingen In his Mouse-Tower on the Rhine!

Do you think, O blue-eyed banditti, Because you have scaled the wall, Such an old mustache as I am Is not a match for you all?

I have you fast in my fortress, And will not let you depart, gut put you down into the dungeon in the round-tower of my heart.

And there will I keep you forever, Yes, forever and a day, Till the walls shall crumble to ruin, And molder in dust away!

NOTES AND QUESTIONS

Discussion. 1. What is the time "Between the dark and the daylight" usually called? 2. What do you suppose Longfellow had been doing in his study before the children came down to him? 3. What reasons can you give for the "pause in the day's occupations"? 4. Who were the children whom the poet saw "Descending the broad hall stair" to enter his "castle wall"? 5. What were these children whispering about? 6. What does Longfellow mean by his "turret"? 7. To what does he compare the rush made by the children? 8. What wall did they scale in order to reach him? 9. Where does Longfellow say he will put the children now that he has captured them? 10. Which stanza of this poem do you like best? 11. Tell what you know about the life of Longfellow. 12. Find in the Glossary the meaning of: raid; match. 13. Pronounce: lower; banditti; dungeon.

Phrases for Study

Bishop of Bingen, round-tower of my heart, scaled the wall, forever and a day, such an old mustache, molder in dust away, fast in my fortress.

THE SONG OF HIAWATHA

INTRODUCTION

Should you ask me, whence these stories, Whence these legends and traditions, With the odors of the forest, With the dew and damp of meadows, With the curling smoke of wigwams, With the rushing of great rivers, With their frequent repetitions, And their wild reverberations, As of thunder in the mountains.

I should answer, I should tell you: "From the forests and the prairies, From the great lakes of the Northland, From the land of the Ojibways, From the land of the Dacotahs, From the mountains, moors, and fenlands, Where the heron, the Shuh-shuh-gah, Feeds among the reeds and rushes. I repeat them as I heard them From the lips Of Nawadaha The musician, the sweet singer."

Should you ask where Nawadaha Found these songs, so wild and wayward, Found these legends and traditions,

I should answer, I should tell you: "In the birds'-nests of the forests, In the lodges of the beaver, In the hoof-prints of the bison, In the aerie of the eagle!" If still further you should ask me, Saying, "Who was Nawadaha? Tell us of this Nawadaha," I should answer your inquiries Straightway in such words as follow:

"In the Vale of Tawasentha, In the green and silent valley, By the pleasant water-courses. Dwelt the singer Nawadaha. Round about the Indian village Spread the meadows and the cornfields, And beyond them stood the forest, Stood the groves of singing pine-trees, Green in summer, white in winter, Ever sighing, ever singing.

"There he sang of Hiawatha, Sang the Song of Hiawatha, Sang his wondrous birth and being, How he prayed and how he fasted, How he lived, and toiled, and suffered, That the tribes of men might prosper, That he might advance his people!"

Ye who love the haunts of Nature, Love the sunshine of the meadow, Love the shadow of the forest, Love the wind among the branches, And the rain-shower and the snowstorm, And the rushing of great rivers Through their palisades of pine-trees, And the thunder in the mountains, Listen to this Indian Legend, To this Song of Hiawatha! Ye whose hearts are fresh and simple, Who have faith in God and Nature,

Listen to this simple story, To this Song of Hiawatha!

NOTES AND QUESTIONS

You have now begun to read parts of a long poem about Indian life and tradition. The Indians, like all other races of men, have such songs. Longfellow studied the Indian legends and put them into English verse so that all of us may enjoy them. Such a poem, which is really a collection of ballads or songs about heroes and about the beliefs and superstitions of a race, is often called an epic. Notice that the poet tells you that these stories in verse have the odors of the forest, the curling smoke of wigwams; the rushing of great rivers, and the roar of mountain thunder. This means that such stories are very closely connected with the simple life of a simple people—there is much of their thought about Nature, much of their love of the land where they live. Next, notice that he got his knowledge of these songs from a "sweet singer," a minstrel. All simple tribes have had such singers, who went about from place to place telling in verse what the people wanted to hear. There were no books, both boys and girls learned their stories from older people, or from wandering singers. Next, you observe that the theme of the stories is the life of Hiawatha, their great hero. So the Greeks had stories about their hero Ulysses, the early English about Beowulf and King Arthur, the French about Roland. Every great race honors the memory of a hero who lived when the race was young. Many stories cluster about the name of this hero, and poets and minstrels love to sing, and the people to hear, about these great characters. Finally, notice at the end of the poet's Introduction, two things: First, Hiawatha lived and toiled and suffered that the tribes might prosper, that he might advance his people-thus an epic poem deals with the founding of a people or race. Second, you notice that there is much about God and Nature in the poem-the simple religious faith of the people. The hero, his deeds that helped his people, the religion of the tribes-these are the subjects. Find illustrations of these things as you read.

Discussion. 1. Where did these stories come from? Read lines which tell. 2. Name the Great Lakes. 3. Who was Nawadaha? 4. What word tells the sound of the pine-trees? 5. Read five lines that tell what the singer sang of Hiawatha. 6. Find in the Glossary the meaning of: reverberations. 7. Pronounce: legends; wigwams; aerie.

Phrases for Study

singing pine-trees, advance his people, wondrous birth and being, haunts of Nature, tribes of men might prosper, palisades of pine-trees.

HIAWATHA'S CHILDHOOD

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 get 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 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 water, Sounds of music, words of wonder; "Minne-wawa!" said the pine-trees, "Mudway-aushka! said the water.

Saw the firefly, 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 firefly, Little, flitting, white-fire insect, Little, dancing, white-fire creature, Light me with your little candle, Ere upon my bed I lay me, Ere in sleep I close my eyelids!"

Saw the moon rise from the water Rippling, rounding from the water; Saw the flecks and shadows on it; Whispered, "What is that, Nokomis?" And the good Nokomis answered "Once a warrior, very angry, Seized his grandmother, and threw her Up into the sky at midnight; Right against the moon he threw her; Tis her body that you see there."

Saw the rainbow in the heaven, In the eastern sky, the rainbow; Whispered, "What is that, Nokomis?" And the good Nokomis answered: "'Tis the heaven of flowers you see there. All the wild-flowers of the forest, All the lilies of the prairie, When on earth they fade and perish, Blossom in that heaven above us."

When he heard the owls at midnight, Hooting, laughing in the forest, "What is that?" he cried in terror; "What is that," he said, "Nokomis?" And the good Nokomis answered: "That is but the owl and owlet, Talking in their native language, Talking, scolding at each other."

Then the little Hiawatha Learned of every bird its language, Learned their names and all their secrets— How they built their nests in summer, Where they hid themselves in winter— Talked with them whene'er he met them, Called them "Hiawatha's Chickens."

Of all beasts he learned the language, Learned their names and all their secrets— How the beavers built their lodges, Where the squirrels hid their acorns, How the reindeer ran so swiftly, Why the rabbit was so timid; Talked with them whene'er he met then, Called them "Hiawatha's Brothers."

Then Iagoo, the great boaster, He the marvelous story-teller, He the traveler and the talker, He the friend of old Nokomis, Made a bow for Hiawatha; From a branch of ash he made it, From an oak-bough made the arrows. Tipped with flint, and winged with feathers, And the cord he made of deerskin.

Then he said to Hiawatha: "Go, my son, into the forest, Where the red deer herd together; Kill for us a famous roebuck, Kill for us a deer with antlers!"

Forth into the forest straightway All alone walked Hiawatha Proudly, with his bow and arrows; And the birds sang round him, o'er him, "Do not shoot us, Hiawatha!", Sang the robin, the Opechee, Sang the bluebird, the Owaissa, "Do not shoot us, Hiawatha!"

Up the oak-tree, close beside him, Sprang the squirrel, Adjidaumo, In and out among the branches, Coughed and chattered from the oak-tree, Laughed, and said between his laughing; "Do not shoot-me, Hiawatha!"

And the rabbit from his pathway Leaped aside, and at a distance Sat erect upon his haunches, Half in fear and half in frolic, Saying to the little hunter, "Do not shoot me, Hiawatha!"

But he heeded not, nor heard them, For his thoughts were with the red deer; On their tracks his eyes were fastened, Leading downward to the river, To the ford across the river; And as one in slumber walked he.

Hidden in the alder-bushes, There he waited till the deer came, Till he saw two antlers lifted, Saw two eyes look from the thicket, Saw two nostrils point to windward, And a deer came down the pathway, Flecked with leafy light and shadow. His heart within him fluttered, Trembled like the leaves above him, Like the birch-leaf palpitated, As the deer came down the pathway.

Then, upon one knee uprising, Hiawatha aimed an arrow; Scarce a twig moved with his motion, Scarce a leaf was stirred or rustled, But the wary roebuck started, Stamped with all his hoofs together, Listened with one foot uplifted, Leaped as if to meet the arrow, Ah! the singing, fatal arrow; Like a wasp it buzzed and stung him!

Dead he lay there in the forest, By the ford across the river; Beat his timid heart no longer. But the heart of Hiawatha Throbbed and shouted and exulted, As he bore the red deer homeward; And WOO and Nokomis coming with applauses.

From the red deer's hide Nokomis Made a cloak for Hiawatha; From the red deer's flesh Nokomis Made a banquet in his honor. All the village came and feasted; All the guests praised Hiawatha, Called him Strong-Heart, Soan-ge-taha! Called him Loon-Heart, Mahn-go-taysee!

NOTES AND QUESTIONS

Discussion. 1. What body of water is called Gitche Gumee? 2. Where did the wigwam of Nokomis stand? 3. What is meant by the "beat" of the water? 4. Why does Longfellow call the pine trees "black and gloomy"? 5. Who was Nokomis? 6. Why did she call Hiawatha "my little owlet"? 7. What do we call the "broad, white road in heaven"? 8. What word tells the so sound of the water? 9. Read lines that tell what Hiawatha learned of the birds and the beasts. 10. Of what was Hiawatha's bow made? His arrows? The cord? 11. Why was a tip of flint used on the arrows? 12. What is meant by "the ford across the river"? 13. Read lines which tell that Hiawatha was excited when hunting. 14. Find in the Glossary the meaning of linden; frolic; postrils. 15. Pronounce: moss; sinews; warrior; haunches; alder; palpitated; exulted.

Phrases for Study

twinkle of its candle, famous roebuck, native language, point to windward, tipped with flint, flecked with leafy light, winged with feathers, hailed his coming.

HIAWATHA'S FRIENDS

Two good friends had Hiawatha, Singled out from all the others, Bound to him in closest union, And to whom he gave the right hand Of his heart, in joy and sorrow: Chibiabos, the musician, And the very strong man, Kwasind.

Most beloved by Hiawatha Was the gentle Chibiabos, We the best of all musicians, He the sweetest of all singers. Beautiful and childlike was he, Brave as man is, soft as woman, Pliant as a wand of willow, Stately as a deer with antlers.

When he sang, the village listened; All the warriors gathered round him, All the women came to hear him; Now he stirred their souls to passion, Now he melted them to pity.

From the hollow reeds he fashioned Flutes so musical and mellow That the brook, the Sebowisha, Ceased to murmur in the woodland, That the wood-birds ceased from singing, And the squirrel, Adjidaumo, Ceased his chatter in the oak-tree, Ceased his chatter in the oak-tree, And the rabbit, the Wabasso, Sat upright to look and listen.

Yes, the brook, the Sebowisha, Pausing, said, "O Chibiabos, Teach my waves to flow in music, Softly as your words in singing!"

Yes, the bluebird, the Owaissa, Envious, said, "O Chibiabos, Teach me tones as wild and wayward, Teach me songs as full of frenzy!"

Yes, the robin, the Opechee, Joyous, said, "O Chibiabos, Teach me tunes as sweet and tender, Teach me songs as full of gladness!"

And the whippoorwill, Wawonaissa, Sobbing, said, "O Chibiabos, Teach me tones as melancholy, Teach me songs as full of sadness!"

All the many sounds of nature Borrowed sweetness from his singing; All the hearts of men were softened By the pathos of his music; For he sang of peace and freedom, Sang of beauty, love, and longing; Sang of death, and life undying In the Islands of the Blessed, In the kingdom of Pond, In the land of the Hereafter.

Very dear to Hiawatha Was the gentle Chibiabos. He the best of all musicians, He the sweetest of all singers; For his gentleness he loved him, And the magic of his singing.

Dear, too, unto Hiawatha Was the very strong man, Kwasind, He the strongest of all mortals, He the mightiest among many; For his very strength he loved him, For his strength allied to goodness.

Idle in his youth was Kwasind, Very listless, dull, and dreamy, Never played with other children, Never fished and never hunted; Not like other children was he.

"Lazy Kwasind!" said his mother, "In my work you never help me! In the summer you are roaming Idly in the fields and forests; In the winter you are cowering O'er the firebrands in the wigwam! In the coldest days of winter I must break the ice for fishing; With my nets you never help me! At the door—my nets are hanging, Dripping, freezing with the water; Go and wring them, Yenadizze! Go and dry them in the sunshine!"

Slowly, from the ashes, Kwasind Rose, but made no angry answer; From the lodge went forth in silence, Took the nets, that hung together, Dripping, freezing at the doorway; Like a wisp of straw he wrung them, Like a wisp of straw he broke them, Could not wring them without breaking, Such the strength was in his fingers.

"Lazy Kwasind!" said his father, "In the hunt you never help me; Every bow you touch is broken, Snapped asunder every arrow; Yet come with me to the forest, You shall bring the hunting homeward."

Down a narrow pass they wandered, Where a brooklet led them onward, Where the trail of deer and bison Marked the soft mud on the margin, Till they found all further passage Shut against them, barred securely By the trunks of trees uprooted, Lying lengthwise, lying crosswise, And forbidding further passage.

"We must go back," said the old man; "O'er these logs we cannot clamber; Not a woodchuck could get through them, Not a squirrel clamber o'er them!" And straightway his pipe he lighted, And sat down to smoke and ponder. But before his pipe was finished, Lo! the path was cleared before him; All the trunks had Kwasind lifted; To the right hand, to the left hand, Shot the pine-trees swift as arrows; Hurled the cedars light as lances.

"Lazy Kwasind!" said the young men, As they sported in the meadow; "Why stand idly looking at us, Leaning on the rock behind you? Come and wrestle with the others; Let us pitch the quoit together!"

Lazy Kwasind made no answer, To their challenge made no answer, Only rose, and, slowly turning, Seized the huge rock in his fingers, Tore it from its deep foundation, Poised it in the air a moment, Pitched it sheer into the river, Sheer into the swift Pauwating, Where it still is seen in summer.

Once as down that foaming river, Down the rapids of Pauwating, Kwasind sailed with his companions, In the stream he saw a beaver, Saw Ahmeek, the King of Beavers, Struggling with the rushing currents, Rising, sinking in the water.

Without speaking, without pausing, Kwasind leaped into the river, Plunged beneath the bubbling surface, Through the whirlpools chased the beaver, Followed him among the islands, Stayed so long beneath the water That his terrified companions Cried, "Alas! good-by to Kwasind! We shall never more see Kwasind!" But he reappeared triumphant, And upon his shining shoulders Brought the beaver, dead and dripping, Brought the King of all the Beavers.

And these two, as I have told you, Were the friends of Hiawatha, Chibiabos, the musician, And the very strong man, Kwasind; Long they lived in peace together, Spake with naked hearts together, Pondering much and much contriving How the tribes of men might prosper.

NOTES AND QUESTIONS

Discussion. 1. What two friends had Hiawatha "Singled out from all the others"? 2. What were they "contriving"? 3. Read lines that tell of Chibiabos. 4. With what is he compared? Read lines that tell. 5. From what did he make his flutes? 6. Read lines that tell how musical they were. 7. What did the brook say to Chibiabos? The bluebird? The robin? 8. Of what did Chibiabos sing? 9. Why did Hiawatha love him more than all others? 10. For what did Hiawatha love Kwasind? 11. What did Kwasind's mother say to him? His father? 12. What is meant by the line, "Every bow you touch is broken"? 13. Read lines that tell of Kwasind and the beaver. 14. Which of Hiawatha's two friends do you like the better? Why? 15. Find in the Glossary the meaning of: reeds; frenzy; listless; cowering; clamber; ponder; sported. 16. Pronounce: pliant; wand; pathos; allied; asunder; quoit; triumphant.

Phrases for Study

singled out, strength allied to goodness, bound to him, bring the hunting homeward, pliant as a wand, stirred their souls to passion, forbidding further passage, poised it in the air, melted them to pity, sheer into the river, fashioned flutes, shining shoulders, flow in music, spake with naked hearts, Islands of the Blessed, pondering much, magic of his singing, much contriving.

HIAWATHA'S SAILING

"Give me of your bark, O Birch-Tree! Of your yellow bark, O Birch Tree! Growing by the rushing river, Tall and stately in the valley! I a light canoe will build me, Build a swift Cheemaun for sailing, 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.

And the tree with all its branches Rustled in the breeze of morning, Saying, with a sigh of patience, "Take my cloak, O Hiawatha!"

With his knife the tree he girdled, Just beneath its lowest branches; Just above the roots he cut it, Till the sap came oozing outward; Down the trunk, from top to bottom, Sheer he cleft the bark asunder; With a wooden wedge he raised it, Stripped it from the trunk unbroken.

"Give me of your boughs, O Cedar! Of your strong and pliant branches, My canoe to make more steady, 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.

"Give me of your roots, O Tamarack! Of 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!"

And the Larch, with all its fibers, Shivered in the air of morning, Touched his forehead with its tassels, Said, with one long sigh of sorrow, "Take them all, O Hiawatha!"

From the earth he tore the fibers, Tore the tough roots of the Larch-Tree, Closely sewed the bark together, Bound it closely to the framework.

"Give me of your balm, O Fir-Tree! Of your balsam and your resin, So to close the seams together That the water may not enter, That the river may not wet me!"

And the Fir-Tree, tall and somber, Sobbed through all its robes of darkness, Rattled like a shore with pebbles, Answered wailing, answered weeping, "Take my balm, 0 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, With the juice of roots and berries; Into his canoe he wrought them, Round its waist a shining girdle, Round its bows a gleaming necklace, On its breast two stars resplendent.

Thus the Birch-Canoe was builded In the valley, by the river, In the bosom of the forest; And the forest's life was in it— All its mystery and its magic, All the lightness of the birch-tree, All the toughness of the cedar, All the larch's supple sinews; And it floated on the river Like a yellow leaf in autumn, Like a yellow water-lily.

Paddles none had Hiawatha; Paddles none he had or needed, For his thoughts as paddles served him, And his wishes served to guide him; Swift or slow at will he glided, Veered to right or left at pleasure.

Then he called aloud to Kwasind, To his friend, the strong man, Kwasind, Saying, "Help me clear this river Of its sunken logs and sandbars."

Straight into the river Kwasind Plunged as if he were an otter, Dived as if he were a beaver, Stood up to his waist in water, To his armpits in the river, Swam and shouted in the river, Tugged at sunken logs and branches; With his hands he scooped the sandbars, With his feet the ooze and tangle.

And thus sailed my Hiawatha Down the rushing Taquamenaw, Sailed through all its bends and windings, Sailed through all its deeps and shallows, While his friend, the strong man, Kwasind, Swam the deeps, the shallows waded.

Up and down the river went they, In and out among its islands, Cleared its bed of root and sandbar, Dragged the dead trees from its channel, Made its passage safe and certain, Made a pathway for the people, From its springs among the mountains To the waters of Pauwating, To the bay of Taquamenaw.

NOTES AND QUESTIONS

Discussion. 1. Of what did Hiawatha make his canoe? 2. Why does Hiawatha call the bark of the birch-tree a cloak? 3. What other name does he give the bark of the birch-tree? 4. What word tells the sound made by the leaves of the birch-tree? 5. What word tells that Hiawatha cut all around the birch-tree? 6. Why did Hiawatha ask the cedar tree for its boughs? 7. Read lines that tell why he asked the larch-tree for its roots. S. What other name does he give the larch tree? 9. Why does Hiawatha call the drops of balsam "tears"? 10. Can the hedgehog really shoot his quills "like arrows"? 11. What is meant by "my beauty"? 12. Read lines that tell how Hiawatha decorated his canoe. 13. What did he use for paddles for the canoe? 14. What did Kwasind do to aid the canoeing? 15. Why is the fir-tree spoken of as "somber"? 16. Find in the Glossary the meaning of: stately; larch; channel. 17. Pronounce: horror; hewed; tamarack; fibrous; forehead; balm; balsam; resin; fissure; crevice; bosom; resplendent; supple; veered; swam.

Phrases for Study

white-skin wrapper, robes of darkness, oozing outward, deck her bosom, cleft the bark asunder, shot his shining quills, summit of the Cedar, wrought them, shaped them to a framework, forest's life was in it, ooze and tangle, close the seams together.

HIAWATHA'S WOOING

"As unto the bow the cord is, So unto the man is woman Though she bends him, she obeys him, Though she draws him, yet she follows— Useless each without the other!"

Thus the youthful Hiawatha Said within himself and pondered Much perplexed by various feelings— Listless, longing, hoping, fearing, Dreaming still of Minnehaha, Of the lovely Laughing Water, In the Land of the Dacotahs.

"Wed a maiden of your people," Warning said the old Nokomis; "Go not eastward, go not westward, For a stranger, whom we know not! Like a fire upon the hearthstone Is a neighbor's homely daughter; Like the starlight or the moonlight Is the handsomest of strangers!"

Thus dissuading spake Nokomis, And my Hiawatha answered Only this: "Dear old Nokomis, Very pleasant is the firelight, But I like the starlight better, Better do I like the moonlight!"

Gravely then said old Nokomis: "Bring not here an idle maiden, Bring not here a useless woman, Hands unskillful, feet unwilling; Bring a wife with nimble fingers,

Heart and hand that move together, Feet that run on willing errands!"

Smiling answered Hiawatha: "In the Land of the Dacotahs Lives the Arrow-maker's daughter, Minnehaha, Laughing Water, Handsomest of all the women. I will bring her to your wigwam; She shall run upon your errands, Be your starlight, moonlight, firelight, Be the sunlight of my people!"

Still dissuading, said Nokomis: "Bring not to my lodge a stranger From the Land of the Dacotahs! Very fierce are the Dacotahs. Often is there war between us; There are feuds yet unforgotten, Wounds that ache and still may open!"

Laughing answered Hiawatha: "For that reason, if no other, Would I wed the fair Dacotah, That our tribes might be united, That old feuds might be forgotten, And old wounds be healed forever!"

Thus departed Hiawatha To the land of the Dacotahs, To the land of handsome women, Striding over moor and meadow, Through interminable forests, Through uninterrupted silence.

With his moccasins of magic, At each stride a mile he measured; Yet the way seemed long before him, And his heart outran his footsteps; And he journeyed without resting, Till he heard the cataract's laughter, Heard the Falls of Minnehaha Calling to him through the silence.

"Pleasant is the sound!" he murmured, "Pleasant is the voice that calls me!" On the outskirts of the forest, 'Twixt the shadow and the sunshine, Herds of fallow deer were feeding, But they saw not Hiawatha; To his bow he whispered, "Fail not!" To his arrow whispered, "Swerve not!" Sent it singing on its errand, To the red heart of the roebuck; Threw the deer across his shoulder And sped forward without pausing.

At the doorway of his wigwam Sat the ancient Arrow-maker, In the land of the Dacotahs, Making arrow-heads of jasper, Arrow-heads of chalcedony. At his side, in all her beauty, Sat the lovely Minnehaha, Sat his daughter, Laughing Water, Plaiting mats of flags and rushes; Of the past the old man's thoughts were, And the maiden's of the future.

He was thinking, as he sat there, Of the days when with such arrows He had struck the deer and bison, On the Muskoday, the meadow; Shot the wild goose, flying southward, On the wing, the clamorous Wawa; Thinking of the great war-parties, How they came to buy his arrows, Could not fight without his arrows.

She was thinking of a hunter, From another tribe and country, Young and tall and very handsome, Who one morning, in the springtime, Came to buy her father's arrows, Sat and rested in the wigwam, Lingered long about the doorway, Looking back as he departed. She had heard her father praise him, Praise his courage and his wisdom; Would he come again for arrows To the Falls of Minnehaha? On the mat her hands lay idle, And her eyes were very dreamy.

Through their thoughts they heard a footstep, Heard a rustling in the branches, And with glowing cheek and forehead, With the deer upon his shoulders, Suddenly from out the woodlands Hiawatha stood before them.

Straight the ancient Arrow-maker Looked up gravely from his labor, Laid aside the unfinished arrow, Bade him enter at the doorway, Saying, as he rose to meet him, "Hiawatha, you are welcome!"

At the feet of Laughing Water Hiawatha laid his burden, Threw the red deer from his shoulders; And the maiden looked up at him, Looked up from her mat of rushes, Said with gentle look and accent, "You are welcome, Hiawatha!" Very spacious was the wigwam, Made of deerskin dressed and whitened, With the gods of the Dacotahs Drawn and painted on its curtains; And so tall the doorway, hardly Hiawatha stooped to enter, Hardly touched his eagle-feathers As he entered at the doorway.

Then up rose the Laughing Water; From the ground fair Minnehaha Laid aside her mat unfinished, Brought forth food and set before them, Water brought them from the brooklet, Gave them food in earthen vessels, Gave them drink in bowls of basswood, Listened while the guest was speaking, Listened while her father answered. But not once her lips she opened, Not a single word she uttered.

Yes, as in a dream she listened To the words of Hiawatha, As he talked of old Nokomis, Who had nursed him in his childhood, As he told of his companions, Chibiabos, the musician, And the very strong man, Kwasind, And of happiness and plenty In the land of the Ojibways,

In the pleasant land and peaceful. "After many years of warfare, Many years of strife and bloodshed, There is peace between the Ojibways And the tribe of the Dacotahs." Thus continued Hiawatha, And then added, speaking slowly, "That this peace may last forever, And our hands be clasped more closely, And our hearts be more united, Give me as my wife this maiden, Minnehaha, Laughing Water, Loveliest of Dacotah women!"

And the ancient Arrow-maker Paused a moment ere he answered, Smoked a little while in silence, Looked at Hiawatha proudly, Fondly looked at Laughing Water, And made answer very gravely: "Yes, if Minnehaha wishes; Let your heart speak, Minnehaha!"

And the lovely Laughing Water Seemed more lovely, as she stood there, Neither willing nor reluctant, As she went to Hiawatha, Softly took the seat beside him, While she said, and blushed to say it, "I will follow you, my husband!"

This was Hiawatha's wooing! Thus it was he won the daughter Of the ancient Arrow-maker, In the land of the Dacotahs!

From the wigwam he departed, Leading with him Laughing Water; Hand in hand they went together, Through the woodland and the meadow, Left the old man standing lonely At the doorway of his wigwam, Heard the Falls of Minnehaha Calling to them from the distance, Crying to them from afar off, "Fare thee well, O Minnehaha!" And the ancient Arrow-maker Turned again unto his labor, Sat down by his sunny doorway, Murmuring to himself, and saying: "Thus it is our daughters leave us, Those we love, and those who love us! Just when they have learned to help us, When we are old and lean upon them, Comes a youth with flaunting feathers, With his flute of reeds, a stranger, Wanders piping through the village, Beckons to the fairest maiden, And she follows where he leads her, Leaving all things for the stranger!"

Pleasant was the journey homeward, Through interminable forests, Over meadow, over mountain, Over river, hill, and hollow. Short it seemed to Hiawatha, Though they journeyed very slowly, Though his pace he checked and slackened To the steps of Laughing Water. Over wide and rushing rivers In his arms he bore the maiden;

Light he thought her as a feather, As the plume upon his head-gear; Cleared the tangled pathway for her, Bent aside the swaying branches, Made at night a lodge of branches, And a bed with boughs of hemlock, And a fire before the doorway With the dry cones of the pine-tree.

All the traveling winds went with them, O'er the meadow, through the forest; All the stars of night looked at them, Watched with sleepless eyes their slumber; From his ambush in the oak-tree Peeped the squirrel, Adjidaumo, Watched with eager eyes the lovers; And the rabbit, the Wabasso, Scampered from the path before them, Peering, peeping from his burrow, Sat erect upon his haunches, Watched with curious eyes the lovers.

Pleasant was the journey homeward! All the birds sang loud and sweetly Songs of happiness and heart's-ease; Sang the bluebird, the Owaissa, "Happy are you, Hiawatha, Having such a wife to love you!" Sang the robin, the Opechee, "Happy are you; Laughing Water, Having such a noble husband!"

From the sky the sun benignant Looked upon them through the branches, Saying to them, "O my children, Love is sunshine, hate is shadow; Life is checkered shade and sunshine; Rule by love, O Hiawatha!" From the sky the moon looked at them, Filled the lodge with mystic splendors, Whispered to them, "O my children, Day is restless, night is quiet, Man imperious, woman feeble; Half is mine, although I follow; Rule by patience, Laughing Water!" Thus it was they journeyed homeward; Thus it was that Hiawatha To the lodge of old Nokomis Brought the moonlight, starlight, firelight, Brought the sunshine of his people, Minnehaha, Laughing Water, Handsomest of all the women In the land of the Dacotahs, In the land of handsome women.

NOTES AND QUESTIONS

Discussion. 1. Why did Nokomis wish Hiawatha to wed a maiden of his own people? 2. Whom did Hiawatha say he would wed? 3. Find the Falls of Minnehaha on your map. 4. Read lines that tell of Hiawatha's journey "To the land of the Dacotahs." 5. Of what was the Arrow-maker thinking when Hiawatha appeared? 6. Read lines that tell of what the maiden was thinking. 7. Read the words of Hiawatha when he asked the father for his daughter. 8. In what words did the Arrow-maker give his consent? 9. What was Minnehaha's answer? 10. Read lines that tell of the journey homeward. 11. Why did Hiawatha "check" his pace on this journey? 12. What greeting did the bluebird give them? 13. What was the greeting of the robin? The sun? The moon? 14. Read the lines that you like best. 15. Find in the Glossary the meaning of: cord; nimble; moor; fallow; swerve; jasper; flags; rushes; basswood; flaunting. 16. Pronounce: dissuading; feuds; wounds; chalcedony; plaiting; bade; spacious; benignant; mystic; imperious.

Phrases for Study

feet unwilling, neither willing nor reluctant, yet unforgotten, interminable forests, wanders piping through the village, moccasins of magic, heart outran his footsteps, heart's-ease, cataract's laughter, sun benignant, deerskin dressed and whitened, hate is shadow, mystic splendors.

THE WHITE-MAN'S FOOT

From his wanderings far to eastward, From the regions of the morning, From the shining land of Wabun, Homeward now returned Iagoo, The great traveler, the great boaster, Full of new and strange adventures, Marvels many and many wonders.

And the people of the village Listened to him as he told them Of his marvelous adventures; Laughing answered him in this wise: "Ugh, it is indeed Iagoo! No one else beholds such wonders!"

He had seen, he said, a water Bigger than the Big-Sea-Water, Broader than the Gitche Gumee, Bitter so that none could drink it! At each other looked the warriors, Looked the women at each other, Smiled, and said, "it cannot be so! Kaw!" they said, "it cannot be so!" O'er it, said he, o'er this water

Came a great canoe with pinions, A canoe with wings came flying, Bigger than a grove of pine-trees, Taller than the tallest tree-tops! And the old men and the women Looked and tittered at each other; "Kaw!" they said, "we don't believe it!"

From its mouth, he said, to greet him, Came Waywassimo, the lightning, Came the thunder, Annemeekee! And the warriors and the women Laughed aloud at poor Iagoo; "Kaw!" they said, "what tales you tell us!"

In it, said he, came a people, In the great canoe with pinions Came, he said, a hundred warriors; Painted white were all their faces, And with hair their chins were covered! And the warriors and the women Laughed and shouted in derision, Like the ravens on the tree-tops, Like the crows upon the hemlocks. "Kaw!" they said, "what lies you tell us. Do not think that we believe them!"

Only Hiawatha laughed not, But he gravely spake and answered To their jeering and their jesting: "True is all Iagoo tells us; I have seen it in a vision,

Seen the great canoe with pinions, Seen the people with white faces, Seen the coming of this bearded People of the wooden vessel From the regions of the morning, From the shining land of Wabun.

Gitche Manito, the Mighty, The Great Spirit, the Creator, Sends them hither on his errand, Sends them to us with his message. Wheresoe'er they tread, beneath them Swarms the stinging fly, the Ahmo, Swarms the bee, the honey-maker;. Wheresoe'er they tread, beneath them Springs a flower unknown among us, Springs the White-man's foot in blossom.

"Let us welcome, then, the strangers, Hail them as our friends and brothers, And the heart's right hand of friendship Give them when they come to see us. Gitche Manito, the Mighty, Said this to me in my vision.

"I beheld, too, in that vision, All the secrets of the future, Of the distant days that shall be. I beheld the westward marches Of the unknown, crowded nations. All the land was full of people, Restless, struggling, toiling, striving, Speaking many tongues, yet feeling But one heart-beat in their bosoms. In the woodlands rang their axes, Smoked their towns in all the valleys, Over all the lakes and rivers Rushed their great canoes of thunder.

"Then a darker, drearier vision Passed before me, vague and cloud-like. I beheld our nations scattered, All forgetful of my counsels, Weakened, warring with each other; Saw the remnants of our people Sweeping westward, wild and woeful, Like the cloud-rack of a tempest, Like the withered leaves of autumn!"

NOTES AND QUESTIONS

Discussion. 1. Read lines that tell Iagoo's story of adventures. 2. Where do you think he had seen these things? 3. What was the "bitter" water Iagoo told about? 4. What were the "lightning" and the "thunder" that came from the "canoe with pinions"? 5. Why was his story laughed at as false by the Indians? 6. How did Hiawatha know it was all true? 7. How did Hiawatha say they should receive the White Man when he came? 8. What secrets came to Hiawatha in the vision? 9. What "darker vision" did he see? 10. Has Hiawatha's vision come true? 11. What do you think of Hiawatha's character? 12. Which of all the stories in this poem do you like best? 13. Give the reason for your answer. 14. You no doubt enjoyed reading this poem; can you tell why? 15. Read "A Forward Look," and tell why you think Longfellow was a real author. 16. You will enjoy reading Eastman's Indian Legends Retold. 17. Find in the Glossary the meaning of: tittered; hither; counsels. 18. Pronounce: pinions; derision; vision; regions; vague; warring.

Phrases for Study

regions of the morning, distant days that shall be, shining land of Wabun, unknown, crowded nations, canoe with pinions, feeling but one heart-beat, painted white, sweeping westward, heart's right hand of friendship, cloud-rack of a tempest.