And the ancient Arrow-makerPaused 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 WaterSeemed 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 daughterOf 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 lonelyAt the doorway of his wigwam,Heard the Falls of MinnehahaCalling to them from the distance,Crying to them from afar off,"Fare thee well, O Minnehaha!"
And the ancient Arrow-makerTurned 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 strangerWanders 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 slackenedTo the steps of Laughing Water.
Over wide and rushing riversIn 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 doorwayWith the dry cones of the pine-tree.
All the travelling winds went with them,O'er the meadows, through the forest;All the stars of night looked at them,Watched with sleepless eyes their slumber;From his ambush in the oak-treePeeped 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 sweetlySongs 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 benignantLooked 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 HiawathaTo the lodge of old NokomisBrought the moonlight, starlight, firelight,Brought the sunshine of his people,Minnehaha, Laughing Water,Handsomest of all the womenIn the land of the Dacotahs,In the land of handsome women.
XI
Hiawatha's Wedding-Feast
You shall hear how Pau-Puk-Keewis,How the handsome YenadizzeDanced at Hiawatha's wedding;How the gentle Chibiabos,He the sweetest of musicians,Sang his songs of love and longing;How Iagoo, the great boaster,He the marvellous story-teller,Told his tales of strange adventure,That the feast might be more joyous,That the time might pass more gayly,And the guests be more contented.
Sumptuous was the feast NokomisMade at Hiawatha's wedding;All the bowls were made of bass-wood,White and polished very smoothly,All the spoons of horn of bison,Black and polished very smoothly.
She had sent through all the villageMessengers with wands of willow,As a sign of invitation,As a token of the feasting;And the wedding guests assembled,Clad in all their richest raiment,Robes of fur and belts of wampum,Splendid with their paint and plumage,Beautiful with beads and tassels.
First they ate the sturgeon, Nahma,And the pike, the Maskenozha,Caught and cooked by old Nokomis;Then on pemican they feasted,Pemican and buffalo marrow,Haunch of deer and hump of bison,Yellow cakes of the Mondamin,And the wild rice of the river.
But the gracious Hiawatha,And the lovely Laughing Water,And the careful old Nokomis,Tasted not the food before them,Only waited on the othersOnly served their guests in silence.
And when all the guests had finished,Old Nokomis, brisk and busy,From an ample pouch of otter,Filled the red-stone pipes for smokingWith tobacco from the South-land,Mixed with bark of the red willow,And with herbs and leaves of fragrance.
Then she said, "O Pau-Puk-Keewis,Dance for us your merry dances,Dance the Beggar's Dance to please us,That the feast may be more joyous,That the time may pass more gayly,And our guests be more contented!"
Then the handsome Pau-Puk-Keewis,He the idle Yenadizze,He the merry mischief-maker,Whom the people called the Storm-Fool,Rose among the guests assembled.
Skilled was he in sports and pastimes,In the merry dance of snow-shoes,In the play of quoits and ball-play;Skilled was he in games of hazard,In all games of skill and hazard,Pugasaing, the Bowl and Counters,Kuntassoo, the Game of Plum-stones.Though the warriors called him Faint-Heart,Called him coward, Shaugodaya,Idler, gambler, Yenadizze,Little heeded he their jesting,Little cared he for their insults,For the women and the maidensLoved the handsome Pau-Puk-Keewis.
He was dressed in shirt of doeskin,White and soft, and fringed with ermine,All inwrought with beads of wampum;He was dressed in deer-skin leggings,Fringed with hedgehog quills and ermine,And in moccasins of buck-skin,Thick with quills and beads embroidered.On his head were plumes of swan's down,On his heels were tails of foxes,In one hand a fan of feathers,And a pipe was in the other.
Barred with streaks of red and yellow,Streaks of blue and bright vermilion,Shone the face of Pau-Puk-Keewis.From his forehead fell his tresses,Smooth, and parted like a woman's,Shining bright with oil, and plaited,Hung with braids of scented grasses,As among the guests assembled,To the sound of flutes and singing,To the sound of drums and voices,Rose the handsome Pau-Puk-Keewis,And began his mystic dances.