And the other said, Behold me!
I am Fever, Ahkosewin!"

And the lovely Minnehaha
Shuddered as they looked upon her,
Shuddered at the words they uttered,
Lay down on her bed in silence,
Hid her face, but made no answer;
Lay there trembling, freezing, burning
At the looks they cast upon her,
At the fearful words they uttered.
Forth into the empty forest
Rushed the maddened Hiawatha ;
In his heart was deadly sorrow,
In his face a stony firmness;
On his brow the sweat of anguish
Started, but it froze, and fell not.
Wrapped in furs, and armed
hunting,

With his mighty bow of ash-tree,
With his quiver full of arrows,
With his mittens, Minjekahwun,
Into the vast and vacant forest

for

"

Minnehaha! Minnehaha!"

All day long roved Hiawatha In that melancholy forest, Through the shadow of whose thickets, In the pleasant days of Summer, Of that ne'er-forgotten Summer, He had brought his young wife homeward,

From the land of the Dacotahs;
When the birds sang in the thickets,
And the streamlets laughed and
glistened,

And the air was full of fragrance,
And the lovely Laughing Water
Said, with voice that did not tremble,
"I will follow you, my husband!"

In the wigwam with Nokomis,
With those gloomy guests that

watched her,

With the Famine and the Fever,
She was lying, the Beloved,
She the dying Minnehaha.

beckons !"

'No, my child!" said old Nokomis, "Tis the smoke that waves and [Pauguk "Ah!" she said, "the eyes of Glare upon me in the darkness; I can feel his icy fingers Clasping mine amid the darkness! Hiawatha! Hiawatha!"

And the desolate Hiawatha,
Far away amid the forest,
Miles away among the mountains,
Heard that sudden cry of anguish,
Heard the voice of Minnehaha
Calling to him in the darkness,
"Hiawatha! Hiawatha!"

Over snow-fields waste and pathless,
Under snow-encumbered branches,
Homeward hurried Hiawatha,
Empty-handed, heavy-hearted,
Heard Nokomis moaning, wailing,
"Wahonomin! Wahonomin !
Would that I had perished for you,
Would that I were dead as you are!
Wahonomin! Wahonomin !"
And he rushed into the wigwam,
Saw the old Nokomis slowly
Rocking to and fro and moaning,
Saw his lovely Minnehaha
Lying dead and cold before him;
And his bursting heart within him
Uttered such a cry of anguish,
That the forest moaned and shud-
dered,

That the very stars in heaven
Shook and trembled with his anguish.
Then he sat down, still and speech-
less,

On the bed of Minnehaha,
At the feet of Laughing Water,
At those willing feet, that never
More would lightly run to meet him,
Never more would lightly follow.

With both hands his face he covered, [there, Seven long days and nights he sat As if in a swoon he sat there,

Speechless, motionless, unconscious
Of the daylight or the darkness.

Then they buried Minnehaha :
In the snow a grave they made her,
In the forest deep and darksome,
Underneath the moaning hemlocks;
Clothed her in her richest garments,
Wrapped her in her robes of ermine,
Covered her with snow, like ermine;
Thus they buried Minnehaha.

And at night a fire was lighted, On her grave four times was kindled, For her soul upon its journey To the Islands of the Blessed. From his doorway Hiawatha Saw it burning in the forest, Lighting up the gloomy hemlocks; From his sleepless bed uprising, From the bed of Minnehaha, Stood and watched it at the doorway, That it might not be extinguished, Might not leave her in the darkness. "Farewell!" said he, "Minnehaha! Farewell, O my Laughing Water ! All my heart is buried with you, All my thoughts go onward with you! Come not back again to labour, Come not back again to suffer, Where the Famine and the Fever Wear the heart and waste the body. Soon my task will be completed, Soon your footsteps I shall follow To the Islands of the Blessed, To the kingdom of Ponemah! To the land of the Hereafter !"

XXI.

THE WHITE MAN'S FOOT. IN his lodge beside a river, Close beside a frozen river, Sat an old man, sad and lonely. White his hair was as a snow-drift; Dull and low his fire was burning, And the old man shook and trembled, Folded in his Waubewyon, In his tattered white-skin-wrapper, Hearing nothing but the tempest As it roared along the forest, Seeing nothing but the snow-storm As it whirled and hissed and drifted. All the coals were white with ashes, And the fire was slowly dying, As a young man, walking lightly, At the open doorway entered. Red with blood of youth his cheeks

were,

Soft his eyes as stars in Spring-time;
Bound his forehead was with grasses,
Bound and plumed with scented
grasses;

On his lips a smile of beauty,
Filling all the lodge with sunshine;
In his hand a bunch of blossoms,
Filling all the lodge with sweetness.
"Ah, my son !" exclaimed the old

man,

Happy are my eyes to see you. Sit here on the mat beside me, Sit here by the dying embers, Let us pass the night together. Tell me of your strange adventures, Of the lands where you have travelled; I will tell you of my prowess, Of my many deeds of wonder."

From his pouch he drew his peace-
pipe,

Very old and strangely fashioned ;
Made of red stone was the pipe-head,
And the stem a reed with feathers;
Filled the pipe with bark of willow,
Placed a burning coal upon it,
Gave it to his guest, the stranger,
And began to speak in this wise:

"When I blow my breath about me, When I breathe upon the landscape, Motionless are all the rivers, Hard as stone becomes the water! And the young man answered, smiling:

"When I blow my breath about me, When I breathe upon the landscape, Flowers spring up all o'er the meadows, Singing, onward rush the rivers!"

"When I shake my hoary tresses," Said the old man, darkly frowning, "All the land with snow is covered; All the leaves from all the branches Fall and fade and die and wither, For I breathe, and lo! they are not. From the waters and the marshes Rise the wild-goose and the heron, Fly away to distant regions, For I speak, and lo! they are not. And where'er my footsteps wander, All the wild beasts of the forest Hide themselves in holes and caverns, And the earth becomes as flintstone!" "When I shake my flowing ringlets,' Said the young man, softly laughing, Showers of rain fall warm and wel

"

Come the wild-goose and the heron,
Homeward shoots the arrowy swallow,
Sing the blue-bird and the robin ;
And where'er my footsteps wander,
All the meadows wave with blossoms,
All the woodlands ring with music,
All the trees are dark with foliage!"
While they spake the night de-
parted;

From the distant realms of Wabun,
From his shining lodge of silver,
Like a warrior robed and painted,
Came the sun, and said, "Behold me!
Gheezis, the great sun, behold me!'
Then the old man's tongue was
speechless,

And the air grew warm and pleasant,
And upon the wigwam sweetly
Sang the blue-bird and the robin,
And the stream began to murmur,
And a scent of growing grasses
Through the lodge was gently wafted.
And Segwun, the youthful stranger,
More distinctly in the daylight
Saw the icy face before him;
It was Peboan, the Winter!

From his eyes the tears were flowing,
As from melting lakes the streamlets,
And his body shrunk and dwindled
As the shouting sun ascended,
Till into the air it faded,
Till into the ground it vanished,
And the young man saw before him,
On the hearthstone of the wigwam,
Where the fire had smoked

smouldered,

and

Saw the earliest flowers of Spring-time, Saw the beauty of the Spring-time, Saw the Miskodeed in blossom.

Thus it was that in the Northland, After that unheard of coldness, That intolerable Winter, Came the Spring with all its splendour, All its birds and all its blossoms, All its flowers and leaves and grasses. Sailing on the wind to northward, Flying in great flocks, like arrows, Like huge arrows shot through heaven, Passed the swan, the Mahnahbezee, Speaking almost as a man speaks ; And in long lines waving, bending Like a bowstring snapped asunder, The white goose, the Waw-be-wawa; And in pairs, or singly flying, Mahng the loon, with clangorous pinions,

The blue heron, the Shuh-shuh-gahı, And the grouse, the Mushkodasa.

In the thickets and the meadows
Piped the blue-bird, the Owaissa ;
On the summit of the lodges
Sang the Opechee, the robin ;
In the covert of the pine-trees
Cooed the Omeme, the pigeon;
And the sorrowing Hiawatha,
Speechless in his infinite sorrow,
Heard their voices calling to him,
Went forth from his gloomy doorway,
Stood and gazed into the heaven,
Gazed upon the earth and waters.
From his wanderings far to east-
ward,

From the regions of the morning,
From the shining land of Wabun,
Homeward now returned Iagoo,
The great traveller, 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 marvellous 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,
44 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!" said they, "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,