Basket Used by the Pawnee Indians.Basket Used by the Pawnee Indians for Carrying Corn or Berries.
Sacred belt of Wampum."With the sacred belt of Wampum."
Y
You shall hear how Pau-Puk-Keewis,He, the handsome Yenadizze,Whom the people called the Storm Fool,Vexed the village with disturbance.5You shall hear of all his mischief,And his flight from Hiawatha,And his wondrous transmigrations,And the end of his adventures.On the shores of Gitche Gumee,10On the dunes of Nagow Wudjoo,By the shining Big-Sea-WaterStood the lodge of Pau-Puk-Keewis.It was he who in his frenzyWhirled these drifting sands together,15On the dunes of Nagow Wudjoo,When, among the guests assembled,He so merrily and madlyDanced at Hiawatha's wedding,Danced the Beggar's Dance to please them.20Now, in search of new adventures,From his lodge went Pau-Puk-Keewis,Came with speed into the village,Found the young men all assembledIn the lodge of old Iagoo,25Listening to his monstrous stories,To his wonderful adventures.He was telling them the storyOf Ojeeg, the Summer-Maker,How he made a hole in heaven,30How he climbed up into heaven,And let out the summer-weather,The perpetual, pleasant Summer;How the Otter first essayed it;How the Beaver, Lynx, and Badger35Tried in turn the great achievement,From the summit of the mountainSmote their fists against the heavens,Smote against the sky their foreheads,Cracked the sky, but could not break it;40How the Wolverine, uprising,Made him ready for the encounter,Bent his knees down, like a squirrel,Drew his arms back, like a cricket."Once he leaped," said old Iagoo,45"Once he leaped, and lo! above himBent the sky, as ice in riversWhen the waters rise beneath it;Twice he leaped, and lo! above himCracked the sky, as ice in rivers50When the freshet is at highest!Thrice he leaped, and lo! above himBroke the shattered sky asunder,And he disappeared within it,And Ojeeg, the Fisher Weasel,55With a bound went in behind him!""Hark you!" shouted Pau-Puk-KeewisAs he entered at the doorway;"I am tired of all this talking,Tired of old Iagoo's stories,60Tired of Hiawatha's wisdom.Here is something to amuse you,Better than this endless talking."Then from out his pouch of wolf-skinForth he drew, with solemn manner,65All the game of Bowl and Counters,Pugasaing, with thirteen pieces.White on one side were they painted,And vermilion on the other;Two Kenabeeks or great serpents,70Two Ininewug or wedge-men,One great war-club,Pugamaugun,And one slender fish, the Keego,Four round pieces, Ozawabeeks,And three Sheshebwug or ducklings.75All were made of bone and painted,All except the Ozawabeeks;These were brass, on one side burnished,And were black upon the other.In a wooden bowl he placed them,80Shook and jostled them together,Threw them on the ground before him,Thus exclaiming and explaining:"Red side up are all the pieces,And one great Kenabeek standing85On the bright side of a brass piece,On a burnished Ozawabeek;Thirteen tens and eight are counted."Then again he shook the pieces,Shook and jostled them together,90Threw them on the ground before him,Still exclaiming and explaining:"White are both the great Kenabeeks,White the Ininewug, the wedge-men,Red are all the other pieces;95Five tens and an eight are counted."Thus he taught the game of hazard,Thus displayed it and explained it,Running through its various chances,Various changes, various meanings:100Twenty curious eyes stared at him,Full of eagerness stared at him."Many games," said old Iagoo,"Many games of skill and hazardHave I seen in different nations,105Have I played in different countries.He who plays with old IagooMust have very nimble fingers;Though you think yourself so skilfulI can beat you, Pau-Puk-Keewis,110I can even give you lessonsIn your game of Bowl and Counters!"
You shall hear how Pau-Puk-Keewis,He, the handsome Yenadizze,Whom the people called the Storm Fool,Vexed the village with disturbance.5You shall hear of all his mischief,And his flight from Hiawatha,And his wondrous transmigrations,And the end of his adventures.On the shores of Gitche Gumee,10On the dunes of Nagow Wudjoo,By the shining Big-Sea-WaterStood the lodge of Pau-Puk-Keewis.It was he who in his frenzyWhirled these drifting sands together,15On the dunes of Nagow Wudjoo,When, among the guests assembled,He so merrily and madlyDanced at Hiawatha's wedding,Danced the Beggar's Dance to please them.20Now, in search of new adventures,From his lodge went Pau-Puk-Keewis,Came with speed into the village,Found the young men all assembledIn the lodge of old Iagoo,25Listening to his monstrous stories,To his wonderful adventures.He was telling them the storyOf Ojeeg, the Summer-Maker,How he made a hole in heaven,30How he climbed up into heaven,And let out the summer-weather,The perpetual, pleasant Summer;How the Otter first essayed it;How the Beaver, Lynx, and Badger35Tried in turn the great achievement,From the summit of the mountainSmote their fists against the heavens,Smote against the sky their foreheads,Cracked the sky, but could not break it;40How the Wolverine, uprising,Made him ready for the encounter,Bent his knees down, like a squirrel,Drew his arms back, like a cricket."Once he leaped," said old Iagoo,45"Once he leaped, and lo! above himBent the sky, as ice in riversWhen the waters rise beneath it;Twice he leaped, and lo! above himCracked the sky, as ice in rivers50When the freshet is at highest!Thrice he leaped, and lo! above himBroke the shattered sky asunder,And he disappeared within it,And Ojeeg, the Fisher Weasel,55With a bound went in behind him!""Hark you!" shouted Pau-Puk-KeewisAs he entered at the doorway;"I am tired of all this talking,Tired of old Iagoo's stories,60Tired of Hiawatha's wisdom.Here is something to amuse you,Better than this endless talking."Then from out his pouch of wolf-skinForth he drew, with solemn manner,65All the game of Bowl and Counters,Pugasaing, with thirteen pieces.White on one side were they painted,And vermilion on the other;Two Kenabeeks or great serpents,70Two Ininewug or wedge-men,One great war-club,Pugamaugun,And one slender fish, the Keego,Four round pieces, Ozawabeeks,And three Sheshebwug or ducklings.75All were made of bone and painted,All except the Ozawabeeks;These were brass, on one side burnished,And were black upon the other.In a wooden bowl he placed them,80Shook and jostled them together,Threw them on the ground before him,Thus exclaiming and explaining:"Red side up are all the pieces,And one great Kenabeek standing85On the bright side of a brass piece,On a burnished Ozawabeek;Thirteen tens and eight are counted."Then again he shook the pieces,Shook and jostled them together,90Threw them on the ground before him,Still exclaiming and explaining:"White are both the great Kenabeeks,White the Ininewug, the wedge-men,Red are all the other pieces;95Five tens and an eight are counted."Thus he taught the game of hazard,Thus displayed it and explained it,Running through its various chances,Various changes, various meanings:100Twenty curious eyes stared at him,Full of eagerness stared at him."Many games," said old Iagoo,"Many games of skill and hazardHave I seen in different nations,105Have I played in different countries.He who plays with old IagooMust have very nimble fingers;Though you think yourself so skilfulI can beat you, Pau-Puk-Keewis,110I can even give you lessonsIn your game of Bowl and Counters!"
Then again he shook the pieces."Then again he shook the pieces,Shook and jostled them together,Threw them on the ground before him."
"Then again he shook the pieces,Shook and jostled them together,Threw them on the ground before him."
"Then again he shook the pieces,Shook and jostled them together,Threw them on the ground before him."
"Then again he shook the pieces,Shook and jostled them together,Threw them on the ground before him."
So they sat and played together,All the old men and the young men,Played for dresses, weapons, wampum,115Played till midnight, played till morning,Played until the Yenadizze,Till the cunning Pau-Puk-Keewis,Of their treasures had despoiled them,Of the best of all their dresses,120Shirts of deer-skin, robes of ermine,Belts of wampum, crests of feathers,Warlike weapons, pipes and pouches.Twenty eyes glared wildly at him,Like the eyes of wolves glared athim.125Said the lucky Pau-Puk-Keewis:"In my wigwam I am lonely,In my wanderings and adventuresI have need of a companion,Fain would have a Meshinauwa,130An attendant and pipe-bearer.I will venture all these winnings,All these garments heaped about me,All this wampum, all these feathers,On a single throw will venture135All against the young man yonder!"'T was a youth of sixteen summers,'T was a nephew of Iagoo;Face-in-a-Mist, the people called him.As the fire burns in a pipe-head140Dusky red beneath the ashes,So beneath his shaggy eyebrowsGlowed the eyes of old Iagoo."Ugh!" he answered very fiercely;"Ugh!" they answered all and each one.145Seized the wooden bowl the old man,Closely in his bony fingersClutched the fatal bowl, Onagon,Shook it fiercely and with fury,Made the pieces ring together150As he threw them down before him.Red were both the great Kenabeeks,Red the Ininewug, the wedge-men,Red the Sheshebwug, the ducklings,Black the four brass Ozawabeeks,155White alone the fish, the Keego;Only five the pieces counted!Then the smiling Pau-Puk-KeewisShook the bowl and threw the pieces;Lightly in the air he tossed them,160And they fell about him scattered;Dark and bright the Ozawabeeks,Red and white the other pieces,And upright among the othersOne Ininewug was standing,165Even as crafty Pau-Puk-KeewisStood alone among the players,Saying, "Five tens! mine the game is!"Twenty eyes glared at him fiercely,Like the eyes of wolves glared at him,170As he turned and left the wigwam,Followed by his Meshinauwa,By the nephew of Iagoo,By the tall and graceful stripling,Bearing in his arms the winnings,175Shirts of deer-skin, robes of ermine,Belts of wampum, pipes and weapons."Carry them," said Pau-Puk-Keewis,Pointing with his fan of feathers,"To my wigwam far to eastward,180On the dunes of Nagow Wudjoo!"Hot and red with smoke and gamblingWere the eyes of Pau-Puk-KeewisAs he came forth to the freshnessOf the pleasant Summer morning.185All the birds were singing gayly,All the streamlets flowing swiftly,And the heart of Pau-Puk-KeewisSang with pleasure as the birds sing,Beat with triumph like the streamlets,190As he wandered through the village,In the early gray of morning,With his fan of turkey-feathers,With his plumes and tufts of swan's down,Till he reached the farthest wigwam,195Reached the lodge of Hiawatha.Silent was it and deserted;No one met him at the doorway,No one came to bid him welcome;But the birds were singing round it,200In and out and round the doorway,Hopping, singing, fluttering, feeding,And aloft upon the ridge-poleKahgahgee, the King of Ravens,Sat with fiery eyes, and, screaming,205Flapped his wings at Pau-Puk-Keewis."All are gone! the lodge is empty!"Thus it was spake Pau-Puk-Keewis,In his heart resolving mischief;—"Gone is wary Hiawatha,210Gone the silly Laughing Water,Gone Nokomis, the old woman,And the lodge is left unguarded!"By the neck he seized the raven,Whirled it round him like a rattle,215Like a medicine-pouch he shook it,Strangled Kahgahgee, the raven,From the ridge-pole of the wigwamLeft its lifeless body hanging,As an insult to its master,220As a taunt to Hiawatha.With a stealthy step he entered,Round the lodge in wild disorderThrew the household things about him,Piled together in confusion225Bowls of wood and earthen kettles,Robes of buffalo and beaver,Skins of otter, lynx, and ermine,As an insult to Nokomis,As a taunt to Minnehaha.230Then departed Pau-Puk-Keewis,Whistling, singing through the forest,Whistling gayly to the squirrels,Who from hollow boughs above himDropped their acorn-shells upon him,235Singing gayly to the wood-birds,Who from out the leafy darknessAnswered with a song as merry.Then he climbed the rocky headlandsLooking o'er the Gitche Gumee,240Perched himself upon their summit,Waiting full of mirth and mischiefThe return of Hiawatha.Stretched upon his back he lay there;Far below him plashed the waters,245Plashed and washed the dreamy waters;Far above him swam the heavens,Swam the dizzy, dreamy heavens;Round him hovered, fluttered, rustled,Hiawatha's mountain chickens,250Flock-wise swept and wheeled about him,Almost brushed him with their pinions.And he killed them as he lay there,Slaughtered them by tens and twenties,Threw their bodies down the headland,255Threw them on the beach below him,Till at length Kayoshk, the sea-gull,Perched upon a crag above them,Shouted: "It is Pau-Puk-Keewis!He is slaying us by hundreds!260Send a message to our brother,Tidings send to Hiawatha!"
So they sat and played together,All the old men and the young men,Played for dresses, weapons, wampum,115Played till midnight, played till morning,Played until the Yenadizze,Till the cunning Pau-Puk-Keewis,Of their treasures had despoiled them,Of the best of all their dresses,120Shirts of deer-skin, robes of ermine,Belts of wampum, crests of feathers,Warlike weapons, pipes and pouches.Twenty eyes glared wildly at him,Like the eyes of wolves glared athim.125Said the lucky Pau-Puk-Keewis:"In my wigwam I am lonely,In my wanderings and adventuresI have need of a companion,Fain would have a Meshinauwa,130An attendant and pipe-bearer.I will venture all these winnings,All these garments heaped about me,All this wampum, all these feathers,On a single throw will venture135All against the young man yonder!"'T was a youth of sixteen summers,'T was a nephew of Iagoo;Face-in-a-Mist, the people called him.As the fire burns in a pipe-head140Dusky red beneath the ashes,So beneath his shaggy eyebrowsGlowed the eyes of old Iagoo."Ugh!" he answered very fiercely;"Ugh!" they answered all and each one.145Seized the wooden bowl the old man,Closely in his bony fingersClutched the fatal bowl, Onagon,Shook it fiercely and with fury,Made the pieces ring together150As he threw them down before him.Red were both the great Kenabeeks,Red the Ininewug, the wedge-men,Red the Sheshebwug, the ducklings,Black the four brass Ozawabeeks,155White alone the fish, the Keego;Only five the pieces counted!Then the smiling Pau-Puk-KeewisShook the bowl and threw the pieces;Lightly in the air he tossed them,160And they fell about him scattered;Dark and bright the Ozawabeeks,Red and white the other pieces,And upright among the othersOne Ininewug was standing,165Even as crafty Pau-Puk-KeewisStood alone among the players,Saying, "Five tens! mine the game is!"Twenty eyes glared at him fiercely,Like the eyes of wolves glared at him,170As he turned and left the wigwam,Followed by his Meshinauwa,By the nephew of Iagoo,By the tall and graceful stripling,Bearing in his arms the winnings,175Shirts of deer-skin, robes of ermine,Belts of wampum, pipes and weapons."Carry them," said Pau-Puk-Keewis,Pointing with his fan of feathers,"To my wigwam far to eastward,180On the dunes of Nagow Wudjoo!"Hot and red with smoke and gamblingWere the eyes of Pau-Puk-KeewisAs he came forth to the freshnessOf the pleasant Summer morning.185All the birds were singing gayly,All the streamlets flowing swiftly,And the heart of Pau-Puk-KeewisSang with pleasure as the birds sing,Beat with triumph like the streamlets,190As he wandered through the village,In the early gray of morning,With his fan of turkey-feathers,With his plumes and tufts of swan's down,Till he reached the farthest wigwam,195Reached the lodge of Hiawatha.Silent was it and deserted;No one met him at the doorway,No one came to bid him welcome;But the birds were singing round it,200In and out and round the doorway,Hopping, singing, fluttering, feeding,And aloft upon the ridge-poleKahgahgee, the King of Ravens,Sat with fiery eyes, and, screaming,205Flapped his wings at Pau-Puk-Keewis."All are gone! the lodge is empty!"Thus it was spake Pau-Puk-Keewis,In his heart resolving mischief;—"Gone is wary Hiawatha,210Gone the silly Laughing Water,Gone Nokomis, the old woman,And the lodge is left unguarded!"By the neck he seized the raven,Whirled it round him like a rattle,215Like a medicine-pouch he shook it,Strangled Kahgahgee, the raven,From the ridge-pole of the wigwamLeft its lifeless body hanging,As an insult to its master,220As a taunt to Hiawatha.With a stealthy step he entered,Round the lodge in wild disorderThrew the household things about him,Piled together in confusion225Bowls of wood and earthen kettles,Robes of buffalo and beaver,Skins of otter, lynx, and ermine,As an insult to Nokomis,As a taunt to Minnehaha.230Then departed Pau-Puk-Keewis,Whistling, singing through the forest,Whistling gayly to the squirrels,Who from hollow boughs above himDropped their acorn-shells upon him,235Singing gayly to the wood-birds,Who from out the leafy darknessAnswered with a song as merry.Then he climbed the rocky headlandsLooking o'er the Gitche Gumee,240Perched himself upon their summit,Waiting full of mirth and mischiefThe return of Hiawatha.Stretched upon his back he lay there;Far below him plashed the waters,245Plashed and washed the dreamy waters;Far above him swam the heavens,Swam the dizzy, dreamy heavens;Round him hovered, fluttered, rustled,Hiawatha's mountain chickens,250Flock-wise swept and wheeled about him,Almost brushed him with their pinions.And he killed them as he lay there,Slaughtered them by tens and twenties,Threw their bodies down the headland,255Threw them on the beach below him,Till at length Kayoshk, the sea-gull,Perched upon a crag above them,Shouted: "It is Pau-Puk-Keewis!He is slaying us by hundreds!260Send a message to our brother,Tidings send to Hiawatha!"
Decoration.
Canoe.
F
Full of wrath was HiawathaWhen he came into the village,Found the people in confusion,Heard of all the misdemeanors,5All the malice and the mischief,Of the cunning Pau-Puk-Keewis.Hard his breath came through his nostrils,Through his teeth he buzzed and mutteredWords of anger and resentment,10Hot and humming like a hornet."I will slay this Pau-Puk-Keewis,Slay this mischief-maker!" said he."Not so long and wide the world is,Not so rude and rough the way is,15That my wrath shall not attain him,That my vengeance shall not reach him!"Then in swift pursuit departedHiawatha and the huntersOn the trail of Pau-Puk-Keewis,20Through the forest, where he passed it,To the headlands where he rested;But they found not Pau-Puk-Keewis,Only in the trampled grasses,In the whortleberry-bushes,25Found the couch where he had rested,Found the impress of his body.From the lowlands far beneath them,From the Muskoday, the meadow,Pau-Puk-Keewis, turning backward,30Made a gesture of defiance,Made a gesture of derision;And aloud cried Hiawatha,From the summit of the mountains:"Not so long and wide the world is,35Not so rude and rough the way is,But my wrath shall overtake you,And my vengeance shall attain you!"Over rock and over river,Through the bush, and brake, and forest,40Ran the cunning Pau-Puk-Keewis;Like an antelope he bounded,Till he came unto a streamletIn the middle of the forest,To a streamlet still and tranquil,45That had overflowed its margin,To a dam made by the beavers,To a pond of quiet water,Where knee-deep the trees were standing,Where the water-lilies floated,50Where the rushes waved and whispered.On the dam stood Pau-Puk-Keewis,On the dam of trunks and branches,Through whose chinks the water spouted,O'er whose summit flowed the streamlet.55From the bottom rose the beaver,Looked with two great eyes of wonder,Eyes that seemed to ask a question,At the stranger, Pau-Puk-Keewis.On the dam stood Pau-Puk-Keewis,60O'er his ankles flowed the streamlet,Flowed the bright and silvery water,And he spake unto the beaver,With a smile he spake in this wise:
Full of wrath was HiawathaWhen he came into the village,Found the people in confusion,Heard of all the misdemeanors,5All the malice and the mischief,Of the cunning Pau-Puk-Keewis.Hard his breath came through his nostrils,Through his teeth he buzzed and mutteredWords of anger and resentment,10Hot and humming like a hornet."I will slay this Pau-Puk-Keewis,Slay this mischief-maker!" said he."Not so long and wide the world is,Not so rude and rough the way is,15That my wrath shall not attain him,That my vengeance shall not reach him!"Then in swift pursuit departedHiawatha and the huntersOn the trail of Pau-Puk-Keewis,20Through the forest, where he passed it,To the headlands where he rested;But they found not Pau-Puk-Keewis,Only in the trampled grasses,In the whortleberry-bushes,25Found the couch where he had rested,Found the impress of his body.From the lowlands far beneath them,From the Muskoday, the meadow,Pau-Puk-Keewis, turning backward,30Made a gesture of defiance,Made a gesture of derision;And aloud cried Hiawatha,From the summit of the mountains:"Not so long and wide the world is,35Not so rude and rough the way is,But my wrath shall overtake you,And my vengeance shall attain you!"Over rock and over river,Through the bush, and brake, and forest,40Ran the cunning Pau-Puk-Keewis;Like an antelope he bounded,Till he came unto a streamletIn the middle of the forest,To a streamlet still and tranquil,45That had overflowed its margin,To a dam made by the beavers,To a pond of quiet water,Where knee-deep the trees were standing,Where the water-lilies floated,50Where the rushes waved and whispered.On the dam stood Pau-Puk-Keewis,On the dam of trunks and branches,Through whose chinks the water spouted,O'er whose summit flowed the streamlet.55From the bottom rose the beaver,Looked with two great eyes of wonder,Eyes that seemed to ask a question,At the stranger, Pau-Puk-Keewis.On the dam stood Pau-Puk-Keewis,60O'er his ankles flowed the streamlet,Flowed the bright and silvery water,And he spake unto the beaver,With a smile he spake in this wise:
From the bottom rose a beaver."From the bottom rose a beaver,Looked with two great eyes of wonder,Eyes that seemed to ask a question."
"From the bottom rose a beaver,Looked with two great eyes of wonder,Eyes that seemed to ask a question."
"From the bottom rose a beaver,Looked with two great eyes of wonder,Eyes that seemed to ask a question."
"From the bottom rose a beaver,Looked with two great eyes of wonder,Eyes that seemed to ask a question."
"O my friend Ahmeek, the beaver,65Cool and pleasant is the water;Let me dive into the water,Let me rest there in your lodges;Change me, too, into a beaver!"Cautiously replied the beaver,70With reserve he thus made answer:"Let me first consult the others,Let me ask the other beavers."Down he sank into the water,Heavily sank he, as a stone sinks,75Down among the leaves and branches,Brown and matted at the bottom.On the dam stood Pau-Puk-Keewis,O'er his ankles flowed the streamlet,Spouted through the chinks below him,80Dashed upon the stones beneath him,Spread serene and calm before him,And the sunshine and the shadowsFell in flecks and gleams upon him,Fell in little shining patches,85Through the waving, rustling branches.From the bottom rose the beavers,Silently above the surfaceRose one head and then another,Till the pond seemed full of beavers,90Full of black and shining faces.To the beavers Pau-Puk-KeewisSpake entreating, said in this wise:"Very pleasant is your dwelling,O my friends! and safe from danger;95Can you not with all your cunning,All your wisdom and contrivance,Change me, too, into a beaver?""Yes!" replied Ahmeek, the beaver,He the King of all the beavers,100"Let yourself slide down among us,Down into the tranquil water."Down into the pond among themSilently sank Pau-Puk-Keewis;Black became his shirt of deer-skin,105Black his moccasins andleggins,In a broad black tail behind himSpread his fox-tails and his fringes;He was changed into a beaver."Make me large," said Pau-Puk-Keewis,110"Make me large and make me larger,Larger than the other beavers.""Yes," the beaver chief responded,"When our lodge below you enter,In our wigwam we will make you115Ten times larger than the others."Thus into the clear brown waterSilently sank Pau-Puk-Keewis;Found the bottom covered overWith the trunks of trees and branches,120Hoards of food against the winter,Piles and heaps against the famine,Found the lodge with arching doorway,Leading into spacious chambers.Here they made him large and larger,125Made him largest of the beavers,Ten times larger than the others."You shall be our ruler," said they;"Chief and king of all the beavers."But not long had Pau-Puk-Keewis130Sat in state among the beavers,When there came a voice of warningFrom the watchman at his stationIn the water-flags and lilies,Saying, "Here is Hiawatha!135Hiawatha with his hunters!"Then they heard a cry above them,Heard a shouting and a tramping,Heard a crashing and a rushing,And the water round and o'er them140Sank and sucked away in eddies,And they knew their dam was broken.On the lodge's roof the huntersLeaped, and broke it all asunder;Streamed the sunshine through the crevice,145Sprang the beavers through the doorway,Hid themselves in deeper water,In the channel of the streamlet;But the mighty Pau-Puk-KeewisCould not pass beneath the doorway;150He was puffed with pride and feeding,He was swollen like a bladder.Through the roof looked Hiawatha,Cried aloud, "O Pau-Puk-Keewis!Vain are all your craft and cunning,155Vain your manifold disguises!Well I know you, Pau-Puk-Keewis!"With their clubs they beat and bruised him,Beat to death poor Pau-Puk-Keewis,Pounded him as maize is pounded,160Till his skull was crushed to pieces.Six tall hunters, lithe and limber,Bore him home on poles and branches,Bore the body of the beaver;But the ghost, the Jeebi in him,165Thought and felt as Pau-Puk-Keewis,Still lived on as Pau-Puk-Keewis.And it fluttered, strove, and struggled,Waving hither, waving thither,As the curtains of a wigwam170Struggle with their thongs of deer-skin,When the wintry wind is blowing;Till it drew itself together,Till it rose up from the body,Till it took the form and features175Of the cunning Pau-Puk-KeewisVanishing into the forest.But the wary HiawathaSaw the figure ere it vanished,Saw the form of Pau-Puk-Keewis180Glide into the soft blue shadowOf the pine-trees of the forest;Toward the squares of white beyond it,Toward an opening in the forest,Like a wind it rushed and panted,185Bending all the boughs before it,And behind it, as the rain comes,Came the steps of Hiawatha.To a lake with many islandsCame the breathless Pau-Puk-Keewis,190Where among the water-liliesPishnekuh, the brant, were sailing;Through the tufts of rushes floating,Steering through the reedy islands.Now their broad black beaks they lifted,195Now they plunged beneath the water,Now they darkened in the shadow,Now they brightened in the sunshine."Pishnekuh!" cried Pau-Puk-Keewis,"Pishnekuh! my brothers!" said he,200"Change me to a brant with plumage,With a shining neck and feathers,Make me large, and make me larger,Ten times larger than the others."Straightway to a brant they changed him,205With two huge and dusky pinions,With a bosom smooth and rounded,With a bill like two great paddles,Made him larger than the others,Ten times larger than the largest,210Just as, shouting from the forest,On the shore stood Hiawatha.Up they rose with cry and clamor,With a whirr and beat of pinions,Rose up from the reedy islands,215From the water-flags and lilies.And they said to Pau-Puk-Keewis:"In your flying, look not downward,Take good heed, and look not downward,Lest some strange mischance should happen,220Lest some great mishap befall you!"Fast and far they fled to northward,Fast and far through mist and sunshine,Fed among the moors and fen-lands,Slept among the reeds and rushes.225On the morrow as they journeyed,Buoyed and lifted by the South-wind,Wafted onward by the South-wind,Blowing fresh and strong behind them,Rose a sound of human voices230Rose a clamor from beneath them,From the lodges of a village,From the people miles beneath them.For the people of the villageSaw the flock of brant with wonder,235Saw the wings of Pau-Puk-KeewisFlapping far up in the ether,Broader than two doorway curtains.Pau-Puk-Keewis heard the shouting,Knew the voice of Hiawatha,240Knew the outcry of Iagoo,And, forgetful of the warning,Drew his neck in, and looked downward,And the wind that blew behind himCaught his mighty fan of feathers,245Sent him wheeling, whirling downward!All in vain did Pau-Puk-KeewisStruggle to regain his balance!Whirling round and round and downward,He beheld in turn the village250And in turn the flock above him,Saw the village coming nearer,And the flock receding farther,Heard the voices growing louder,Heard the shouting and the laughter;255Saw no more the flock above him,Only saw the earth beneath him;Dead out of the empty heaven,Dead among the shouting people,With a heavy sound and sullen,260Fell the brant with broken pinions.But his soul, his ghost, his shadow,Still survived as Pau-Puk-Keewis,Took again the form and featuresOf the handsome Yenadizze,265And again went rushing onward,Followed fast by Hiawatha,Crying: "Not so wide the world is,Not so long and rough the way is,But my wrath shall overtake you,270But my vengeance shall attain you!"And so near he came, so near him,That his hand was stretched to seize him,His right hand to seize and hold him,When the cunning Pau-Puk-Keewis275Whirled and spun about in circles,Fanned the air into a whirlwind,Danced the dust and leaves about him,And amid the whirling eddiesSprang into a hollow oak-tree,280Changed himself into a serpent,Gliding out through root and rubbish.With his right hand HiawathaSmote amain the hollow oak-tree,Rent it into shreds and splinters,285Left it lying there in fragments.But in vain; for Pau-Puk-Keewis,Once again in human figure,Full in sight ran on before him,Sped away in gust and whirlwind,290On the shores of Gitche Gumee,Westward by the Big-Sea-Water,Came unto the rocky headlands,To the Pictured Rocks of sandstone,Looking over lake and landscape.295And the Old Man of the Mountain,He the Manito of Mountains,Opened wide his rocky doorways,Opened wide his deep abysses,Giving Pau-Puk-Keewis shelter300In his caverns dark and dreary,Bidding Pau-Puk-Keewis welcomeTo his gloomy lodge of sandstone.There without stood Hiawatha,Found the doorways closed against him,305With his mittens, Minjekahwun,Smote great caverns in the sandstone,Cried aloud in tones of thunder,"Open! I am Hiawatha!"But the Old Man of the Mountain310Opened not, and made no answerFrom the silent crags of sandstone,From the gloomy rock abysses.Then he raised his hands to heaven,Called imploring on the tempest,315Called Waywassimo, the lightning,And the thunder, Annemeekee;And they came with night and darkness,Sweeping down the Big-Sea-WaterFrom the distant Thunder Mountains;320And the trembling Pau-Puk-KeewisHeard the footsteps of the thunder,Saw the red eyes of the lightning,Was afraid, and crouched and trembled.Then Waywassimo, the lightning,325Smote the doorways of the caverns,With his war-club smote the doorways,Smote the jutting crags of sandstone,And the thunder, Annemeekee,Shouted down into the caverns,330Saying, "Where is Pau-Puk-Keewis!"And the crags fell, and beneath themDead among the rocky ruinsLay the cunning Pau-Puk-Keewis,Lay the handsome Yenadizze,335Slain in his own human figure.Ended were his wild adventures,Ended were his tricks and gambols,Ended all his craft and cunning,Ended all his mischief-making,340All his gambling and his dancing,All his wooing of the maidens.Then the noble HiawathaTook his soul, his ghost, his shadow,Spake and said: "O Pau-Puk-Keewis,345Never more in human figureShall you search for new adventures;Never more with jest and laughterDance the dust and leaves in whirlwinds;But above there in the heavens350You shall soar and sail in circles;I will change you to an eagle,To Keneu, the great war-eagle,Chief of all the fowls with feathers,Chief of Hiawatha's chickens."355And the name of Pau-Puk-KeewisLingers still among the people,Lingers still among the singers,And among the story-tellers;And in Winter, when the snow-flakes360Whirl in eddies round the lodges,When the wind in gusty tumultO'er the smoke-flue pipes and whistles,"There," they cry, "comes Pau-Puk-Keewis;He is dancing through the village,365He is gathering in his harvest!"
"O my friend Ahmeek, the beaver,65Cool and pleasant is the water;Let me dive into the water,Let me rest there in your lodges;Change me, too, into a beaver!"Cautiously replied the beaver,70With reserve he thus made answer:"Let me first consult the others,Let me ask the other beavers."Down he sank into the water,Heavily sank he, as a stone sinks,75Down among the leaves and branches,Brown and matted at the bottom.On the dam stood Pau-Puk-Keewis,O'er his ankles flowed the streamlet,Spouted through the chinks below him,80Dashed upon the stones beneath him,Spread serene and calm before him,And the sunshine and the shadowsFell in flecks and gleams upon him,Fell in little shining patches,85Through the waving, rustling branches.From the bottom rose the beavers,Silently above the surfaceRose one head and then another,Till the pond seemed full of beavers,90Full of black and shining faces.To the beavers Pau-Puk-KeewisSpake entreating, said in this wise:"Very pleasant is your dwelling,O my friends! and safe from danger;95Can you not with all your cunning,All your wisdom and contrivance,Change me, too, into a beaver?""Yes!" replied Ahmeek, the beaver,He the King of all the beavers,100"Let yourself slide down among us,Down into the tranquil water."Down into the pond among themSilently sank Pau-Puk-Keewis;Black became his shirt of deer-skin,105Black his moccasins andleggins,In a broad black tail behind himSpread his fox-tails and his fringes;He was changed into a beaver."Make me large," said Pau-Puk-Keewis,110"Make me large and make me larger,Larger than the other beavers.""Yes," the beaver chief responded,"When our lodge below you enter,In our wigwam we will make you115Ten times larger than the others."Thus into the clear brown waterSilently sank Pau-Puk-Keewis;Found the bottom covered overWith the trunks of trees and branches,120Hoards of food against the winter,Piles and heaps against the famine,Found the lodge with arching doorway,Leading into spacious chambers.Here they made him large and larger,125Made him largest of the beavers,Ten times larger than the others."You shall be our ruler," said they;"Chief and king of all the beavers."But not long had Pau-Puk-Keewis130Sat in state among the beavers,When there came a voice of warningFrom the watchman at his stationIn the water-flags and lilies,Saying, "Here is Hiawatha!135Hiawatha with his hunters!"Then they heard a cry above them,Heard a shouting and a tramping,Heard a crashing and a rushing,And the water round and o'er them140Sank and sucked away in eddies,And they knew their dam was broken.On the lodge's roof the huntersLeaped, and broke it all asunder;Streamed the sunshine through the crevice,145Sprang the beavers through the doorway,Hid themselves in deeper water,In the channel of the streamlet;But the mighty Pau-Puk-KeewisCould not pass beneath the doorway;150He was puffed with pride and feeding,He was swollen like a bladder.Through the roof looked Hiawatha,Cried aloud, "O Pau-Puk-Keewis!Vain are all your craft and cunning,155Vain your manifold disguises!Well I know you, Pau-Puk-Keewis!"With their clubs they beat and bruised him,Beat to death poor Pau-Puk-Keewis,Pounded him as maize is pounded,160Till his skull was crushed to pieces.Six tall hunters, lithe and limber,Bore him home on poles and branches,Bore the body of the beaver;But the ghost, the Jeebi in him,165Thought and felt as Pau-Puk-Keewis,Still lived on as Pau-Puk-Keewis.And it fluttered, strove, and struggled,Waving hither, waving thither,As the curtains of a wigwam170Struggle with their thongs of deer-skin,When the wintry wind is blowing;Till it drew itself together,Till it rose up from the body,Till it took the form and features175Of the cunning Pau-Puk-KeewisVanishing into the forest.But the wary HiawathaSaw the figure ere it vanished,Saw the form of Pau-Puk-Keewis180Glide into the soft blue shadowOf the pine-trees of the forest;Toward the squares of white beyond it,Toward an opening in the forest,Like a wind it rushed and panted,185Bending all the boughs before it,And behind it, as the rain comes,Came the steps of Hiawatha.To a lake with many islandsCame the breathless Pau-Puk-Keewis,190Where among the water-liliesPishnekuh, the brant, were sailing;Through the tufts of rushes floating,Steering through the reedy islands.Now their broad black beaks they lifted,195Now they plunged beneath the water,Now they darkened in the shadow,Now they brightened in the sunshine."Pishnekuh!" cried Pau-Puk-Keewis,"Pishnekuh! my brothers!" said he,200"Change me to a brant with plumage,With a shining neck and feathers,Make me large, and make me larger,Ten times larger than the others."Straightway to a brant they changed him,205With two huge and dusky pinions,With a bosom smooth and rounded,With a bill like two great paddles,Made him larger than the others,Ten times larger than the largest,210Just as, shouting from the forest,On the shore stood Hiawatha.Up they rose with cry and clamor,With a whirr and beat of pinions,Rose up from the reedy islands,215From the water-flags and lilies.And they said to Pau-Puk-Keewis:"In your flying, look not downward,Take good heed, and look not downward,Lest some strange mischance should happen,220Lest some great mishap befall you!"Fast and far they fled to northward,Fast and far through mist and sunshine,Fed among the moors and fen-lands,Slept among the reeds and rushes.225On the morrow as they journeyed,Buoyed and lifted by the South-wind,Wafted onward by the South-wind,Blowing fresh and strong behind them,Rose a sound of human voices230Rose a clamor from beneath them,From the lodges of a village,From the people miles beneath them.For the people of the villageSaw the flock of brant with wonder,235Saw the wings of Pau-Puk-KeewisFlapping far up in the ether,Broader than two doorway curtains.Pau-Puk-Keewis heard the shouting,Knew the voice of Hiawatha,240Knew the outcry of Iagoo,And, forgetful of the warning,Drew his neck in, and looked downward,And the wind that blew behind himCaught his mighty fan of feathers,245Sent him wheeling, whirling downward!All in vain did Pau-Puk-KeewisStruggle to regain his balance!Whirling round and round and downward,He beheld in turn the village250And in turn the flock above him,Saw the village coming nearer,And the flock receding farther,Heard the voices growing louder,Heard the shouting and the laughter;255Saw no more the flock above him,Only saw the earth beneath him;Dead out of the empty heaven,Dead among the shouting people,With a heavy sound and sullen,260Fell the brant with broken pinions.But his soul, his ghost, his shadow,Still survived as Pau-Puk-Keewis,Took again the form and featuresOf the handsome Yenadizze,265And again went rushing onward,Followed fast by Hiawatha,Crying: "Not so wide the world is,Not so long and rough the way is,But my wrath shall overtake you,270But my vengeance shall attain you!"And so near he came, so near him,That his hand was stretched to seize him,His right hand to seize and hold him,When the cunning Pau-Puk-Keewis275Whirled and spun about in circles,Fanned the air into a whirlwind,Danced the dust and leaves about him,And amid the whirling eddiesSprang into a hollow oak-tree,280Changed himself into a serpent,Gliding out through root and rubbish.With his right hand HiawathaSmote amain the hollow oak-tree,Rent it into shreds and splinters,285Left it lying there in fragments.But in vain; for Pau-Puk-Keewis,Once again in human figure,Full in sight ran on before him,Sped away in gust and whirlwind,290On the shores of Gitche Gumee,Westward by the Big-Sea-Water,Came unto the rocky headlands,To the Pictured Rocks of sandstone,Looking over lake and landscape.295And the Old Man of the Mountain,He the Manito of Mountains,Opened wide his rocky doorways,Opened wide his deep abysses,Giving Pau-Puk-Keewis shelter300In his caverns dark and dreary,Bidding Pau-Puk-Keewis welcomeTo his gloomy lodge of sandstone.There without stood Hiawatha,Found the doorways closed against him,305With his mittens, Minjekahwun,Smote great caverns in the sandstone,Cried aloud in tones of thunder,"Open! I am Hiawatha!"But the Old Man of the Mountain310Opened not, and made no answerFrom the silent crags of sandstone,From the gloomy rock abysses.Then he raised his hands to heaven,Called imploring on the tempest,315Called Waywassimo, the lightning,And the thunder, Annemeekee;And they came with night and darkness,Sweeping down the Big-Sea-WaterFrom the distant Thunder Mountains;320And the trembling Pau-Puk-KeewisHeard the footsteps of the thunder,Saw the red eyes of the lightning,Was afraid, and crouched and trembled.Then Waywassimo, the lightning,325Smote the doorways of the caverns,With his war-club smote the doorways,Smote the jutting crags of sandstone,And the thunder, Annemeekee,Shouted down into the caverns,330Saying, "Where is Pau-Puk-Keewis!"And the crags fell, and beneath themDead among the rocky ruinsLay the cunning Pau-Puk-Keewis,Lay the handsome Yenadizze,335Slain in his own human figure.Ended were his wild adventures,Ended were his tricks and gambols,Ended all his craft and cunning,Ended all his mischief-making,340All his gambling and his dancing,All his wooing of the maidens.Then the noble HiawathaTook his soul, his ghost, his shadow,Spake and said: "O Pau-Puk-Keewis,345Never more in human figureShall you search for new adventures;Never more with jest and laughterDance the dust and leaves in whirlwinds;But above there in the heavens350You shall soar and sail in circles;I will change you to an eagle,To Keneu, the great war-eagle,Chief of all the fowls with feathers,Chief of Hiawatha's chickens."355And the name of Pau-Puk-KeewisLingers still among the people,Lingers still among the singers,And among the story-tellers;And in Winter, when the snow-flakes360Whirl in eddies round the lodges,When the wind in gusty tumultO'er the smoke-flue pipes and whistles,"There," they cry, "comes Pau-Puk-Keewis;He is dancing through the village,365He is gathering in his harvest!"