be invited, Did not parley at the doorway. Sat there without word of welcome In the seat of Laughing Water; Looked with haggard eyes and hollow At the face of Laughing Water.

And the foremost said: ' Behold me! I am Famine, Bukadawin ! '

And the other said: ' Behold me I 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 for huntings With his mighty bow of ash-tree, With his quiver full of arrows, With his mittens, Minjekahwun, Into the vast and vacant forest On his snow-shoes strode he forward.

' Gitche Manito, the Mighty! ' Cried he with his face uplifted In that bitter hour of anguish, ' Give your children food, 0 father I Give us food, or we must perish I

Give me food for Minnehaha, For my dying Minnehaha!'

Through the far-resounding forest, Through the forest vast and vacant Rang that cry of desolation, But there came no other answer Than the echo of his crying, Than the echo of the woodlands, 4 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, u 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.

' Hark! ' she said; ' I hoar a rushing, Hear a roaring and a rushing, Hear the Falls of Minnehaha Calling to me from a distance! ' ' No, my child !' said old Nokomis, ' 'T is the night-wind in the pine-trees ! '

' Look! ' she said; ' I see my father Standing lonely at his doorway, Beckoning to me from his wigwam In the land of the Dacotahs! ' ' No, my child! ' said old Nokomis, ' 'T is the smoke, that waves and beckons ! w

' Ah! ' said she, ' the eyes of Pauguk 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 hiin 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: ' Wahonowin ! Wahonowin ! Would that I had perished for you, Would that I were dead as you are! Wahonowin ! Wahonowin ! '

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 shuddered, That the very stars in heaven Shook and trembled with his anguish.

Then he sat down, still and speechless, 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, Seven long days and nights he sat there, 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, 0 my Laughing Water! All my heart is buried with you, All my thoughts go onward with you ! Come not back again to labor, Come not back again to suffer, Where the Famine and the Fever

THE FAMINE

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!'

C amp;e W amp;tetyan'ft foot

Ik 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,

u 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.

Вы читаете The Song of Hiawatha
Добавить отзыв
ВСЕ ОТЗЫВЫ О КНИГЕ В ИЗБРАННОЕ

0

Вы можете отметить интересные вам фрагменты текста, которые будут доступны по уникальной ссылке в адресной строке браузера.

Отметить Добавить цитату