take hold of my line." But the king of fishes told a monstrous sunfish
to take hold of it; for Hiawatha was tiring him with his incessant
calls. He again drew up his line with difficulty, saying as before,
"Wha-ee-he! wha-ee-he!" while his canoe was turning in swift circles.
When he saw the sunfish, he cried, "Shame, shame you odious fish! why
did you dirty my hook by taking it in your mouth? Let go, I say, let
go." The sunfish did so, and told the king of fishes what Hiawatha
said. Just at that moment the bait came near the king, and hearing
Hiawatha continually crying out, "Me-she-nah-ma-gwai, take hold of my
hook," at last he did so, and allowed himself to be drawn up to the
surface, which he had no sooner reached than, at one mouthful, he took
Hiawatha and his canoe down. When he came to himself, he found that
he was in the fish's belly, and also his canoe. He now turned his
thoughts to the way of making his escape. Looking in his canoe, he saw
his war-club, with which he immediately struck the heart of the
fish. He then felt a sudden motion, as if he were moving with great
velocity. The fish observed to the others, "I am sick at stomach for
having swallowed this dirty fellow, Hiawatha." Just at this moment he
received another severe blow on the heart. Hiawatha thought, "If I
am thrown up in the middle of the lake, I shall be drowned; so I must
prevent it." He drew his canoe and placed it across the fish's throat,
and just as he had finished the fish commenced vomiting, but to no
effect. In this he was aided by a squirrel, who had accompanied him
unperceived until that moment. This animal had taken an active part in
helping him to place his canoe across the fish's throat. For this
act he named him, saying, "For the future, boys shall always call you
Ajidaumo [Upside Down]!"
He then renewed his attack upon the fish's heart, and succeeded, by
repeated blows, in killing him, which he first knew by the loss of
motion, and by the sound of the beating of the body against the
shore. He waited a day longer to see what would happen. He heard birds
scratching on the body, and all at once the rays of light broke in. He
could see the heads of gulls, who were looking in by the opening they
had made. "Oh!" cried Hiawatha, "my younger brothers, make the opening
larger, so that I can get out." They told each other that their
brother Hiawatha was inside of the fish. They immediately set about
enlarging the orifice, and in a short time liberated him. After he got
out he said to the gulls, "For the future you shall be called Kayoshk
[Noble Scratchers]!"
The spot where the fish happened to be driven ashore was near his
lodge. He went up and told his grandmother to go and prepare as much
oil as she wanted. All besides, he informed her, he should keep for
himself.
Some time after this, he commenced making preparations for a war
excursion against the Pearl Feather, the Manito who lived on the
opposite side of the great lake, who had killed his grandfather. The
abode of his spirit was defended, first, by fiery serpents, who hissed
fire so that no one could pass them; and, in the second place, by a
large mass of gummy matter lying on the water, so soft and adhesive,
that whoever attempted to pass, or whatever came in contact with it,
was sure to stick there.
He continued making bows and arrows without number, but he had no
heads for his arrows. At last Noko told him that an old man who lived
at some distance could make them. He sent her to get some. She soon
returned with her conaus, or wrapper, full. Still he told her he had
not enough, and sent her again. She returned with as many more. He
thought to himself, "I must find out the way of making these heads."
Cunning and curiosity prompted him to make the discovery. But he
deemed it necessary to deceive his grandmother in so doing. "Noko,"
said he, "while I take my drum and rattle, and sing my war-songs,
go and try to get me some larger heads for my arrows, for those you
brought me are all of the same size. Go and see whether the old
man cannot make some a little larger." He followed her as she went,
keeping at a distance, and saw the old artificer at work, and so
discovered his process. He also beheld the old man's daughter, and
perceived that she was very beautiful. He felt his breast beat with
a new emotion, but said nothing. He took care to get home before his
grandmother, and commenced singing as if he had never left his lodge.
When the old woman came near, she heard his drum and rattle, without
any suspicion that he had followed her. She delivered him the
arrow-heads.
One evening the old woman said, "My son, you ought to fast before you
go to war, as your brothers frequently do, to find out whether
you will be successful or not." He said he had no objection, and
immediately commenced a fast for several days. He would retire
every day from the lodge so far as to be out of the reach of his
grandmother's voice.
After having finished his term of fasting and sung his war-song from
which the Indians of the present day derive their custom--he embarked
in his canoe, fully prepared for war. In addition to the usual
implements, he had a plentiful supply of oil. He traveled rapidly
night and day, for he had only to will or speak, and the canoe went.
At length he arrived in sight of the fiery serpents. He stopped to
view them. He saw they were some distance apart, and that the flame
only which issued from them reached across the pass. He commenced
talking as a friend to them; but they answered, "We know you,
Hiawatha, you cannot pass." He then thought of some expedient to
deceive them, and hit upon this. He pushed his canoe as near as
possible. All at once he cried out, with a loud and terrified voice,
"What is that behind you?" The serpents instantly turned their heads,
when, at a single word, he passed them. "Well!" said he, placidly,
after he had got by, "how do you like my exploit?" He then took up his
bow and arrows, and with deliberate aim shot them, which was easily
done, for the serpents were stationary, and could not move beyond a
certain spot. They were of enormous length and of a bright color.
Having overcome the sentinel serpents, he went on in his magic canoe
till he came to a soft gummy portion of the lake, called Pigiu-wagumee
or Pitchwater. He took the oil and rubbed it on his canoe, and then
pushed into it. The oil softened the surface and enabled him to slip
through it with ease, although it required frequent rubbing, and
a constant re-application of the oil. Just as his oil failed, he
extricated himself from this impediment, and was the first person who
ever succeeded in overcoming it.
He now came in view of land, on which he debarked in safety, and could
see the lodge of the Shining Manito, situated on a hill. He commenced
preparing for the fight, putting his arrows and clubs in order, and
just at the dawn of day began his attack, yelling and shouting, and
crying with triple voices, "Surround him! surround him! run up! run
up!" making it appear that he had many followers. He advanced crying
out, "It was you that killed my grandfather," and with this shot his
arrows.
The combat continued all day. Hiawatha's arrows had no effect, for his
antagonist was clothed with pure wampum. He was now reduced to three
arrows, and it was only by extraordinary agility that he could escape
the blows which the Manito kept making at him. At that moment a large
woodpecker (the ma-ma) flew past, and lit on a tree. "Hiawatha" he
cried, "your adversary has a vulnerable point; shoot at the lock of
hair on the crown of his head." He shot his first arrow so as only to
draw blood from that part. The Manito made one or two unsteady steps,
but recovered himself. He began to parley, but, in the act, received a
second arrow, which brought him to his knees. But he again recovered.
In so doing, however, he exposed his head, and gave his adversary a
chance to fire his third arrow, which penetrated deep, and brought him
a lifeless corpse to the ground. Hiawatha uttered his saw-saw-quan,
and taking his scalp as a trophy, he called the woodpecker to come and
receive a reward for his information. He took the blood of the Manito
and rubbed it on the woodpecker's head, the feathers of which are red
to this day.
After this victory he returned home, singing songs of triumph and
beating his drum. When his grandmother heard him, she came to the
shore and welcomed him with songs and dancing. Glory fired his mind.
He displayed the trophies he had brought in the most conspicuous
manner, and felt an unconquerable desire for other adventures. He
felt himself urged by the consciousness of his power to new trials of
bravery, skill, and necromantic prowess. He had destroyed the Manito
of Wealth, and killed his guardian serpents, and eluded all his
charms. He did not long remain inactive.
His next adventure was upon the water, and proved him the prince of
fishermen. He captured a fish of such a monstrous size, that the fat
and oil he obtained from it formed a small lake. He therefore invited
all the animals and fowls to a banquet, and he made the order in which
they partook of this repast the measure of their fatness. As fast as
they arrived, he told them to plunge in. The bear came first, and was
followed by the deer, opossum, and such other animals as are noted for
their peculiar fatness at certain seasons. The moose and bison
came tardily. The partridge looked on till the reservoir was nearly
exhausted. The hare and marten came last, and these animals have
consequently no fat.
When this ceremony was over, he told the assembled animals and birds
to dance, taking up his drum and crying, "New songs from the south,
come, brothers, dance." He directed them to pass in a circle around
him, and to shut their eyes. They did so. When he saw a fat fowl pass
by him, he adroitly wrung off its head, at the same time beating his
drum and singing with greater vehemence, to drown the noise of the
fluttering, and crying out, in a tone of admiration, "That's the way,
my brothers, _that's_ the way." At last a small duck [the diver],
thinking there was something wrong, opened one eye and saw what he was
doing. Giving a spring and crying, "Ha-ha-a! Hiawatha is killing us,"
he made for the water. Hiawatha followed him, and, just as the duck
was getting into the water, gave him a kick, which is the cause of his
back being flattened and his legs being straightened out backward, so
that when he gets on land he cannot walk, and his tail feathers are
few. Meantime the other birds flew off, and the animals ran into the
woods.
After this Hiawatha, set out to travel. He wished to outdo all
others, and to see new countries. But after walking over America and
encountering many adventures he became satisfied as well as fatigued.
He had heard of great feats in hunting, and felt a desire to try his
power in that way. One evening, as he was walking along the shores of
a great lake, weary and hungry, he encountered a great magician in
the form of an old wolf, with six young ones, coming towards him. The
wolf, as soon as he saw him, told his whelps to keep out of the way
of Hiawatha, "for I know," continued he, "that it is he that we
see yonder." The young wolves were in the act of running off, when
Hiawatha cried out, "My grandchildren, where are you going? Stop, and
I will go with you." He appeared rejoiced to see the old wolf, and
asked him whither he was journeying. Being told that they were looking
for a place where they could find most game, and where they might pass
the winter, he said he would like to go with them, and addressed the
old wolf in the following words: "Brother, I have a passion for the
chase; are you willing to change me into a wolf?" He was answered
favorably, and his transformation immediately effected.
Hiawatha was fond of novelty. He found himself a wolf corresponding in
size with the others, but he was not quite satisfied with the change,
crying out, "Oh, make me a little larger." They did so. "A little
larger still," he exclaimed. They said, "Let us humor him," and
granted his request. "Well," said he, "_that_ will do." He looked at
his tail. "Oh!" cried he, "do make my tail a little longer and more
bushy." They did so. They then all started off in company, dashing
up a ravine. After getting into the woods some distance, they fell in
with the tracks of moose. The young ones went after them, Hiawatha and
the old wolf following at their leisure. "Well," said the wolf, "whom
do you think is the fastest of the boys? Can you tell by the jumps
they take?" "Why," he replied, "that one that takes such long jumps,
he is the fastest, to be sure." "Ha! ha! you are mistaken," said the
old wolf. "He makes a good start, but he will be the first to tire
out; this one who appears to be behind, will be the one to kill the
game."
They then came to the place where the boys had started in chase. One
had dropped his small bundle. "Take that, Hiawatha," said the old
wolf. "Esa," he replied, "what will I do with a dirty dogskin?" The
wolf took it up; it was a beautiful robe. "Oh, I will carry it now,"
said Hiawatha. "Oh no," replied the wolf, who at the moment exerted
his magic power; "it is a robe of pearls!" And from this moment he
omitted no occasion to display his superiority, both in the art of
the hunter and the magician above his conceited companion. Coming to
a place where the moose had lain down, they saw that the young wolves
had made a fresh start after their prey. "Why," said the wolf, "this
moose is poor. I know by the tracks, for I can always tell whether
they are fat or not." They next came to a place where one of the
wolves had bit at the moose, and had broken one of his teeth on a
tree. "Hiawatha," said the wolf, "one of your grandchildren has shot
at the game. Take his arrow; there it is." "No," he replied; "what
will I do with a dirty dog's tooth!" The old wolf took it up, and
behold! it was a beautiful silver arrow. When they overtook the
youngsters, they had killed a very fat moose.
Hiawatha was extremely hungry; but, alas! such is the power of
enchantment, he saw nothing but the bones picked quite clean. He
thought to himself, "Just as I expected, dirty, greedy fellows!"
However, he sat down without saying a word. At length the old wolf
spoke to one of the young ones, saying, "Give some meat to your
grandfather." One of them obeyed, and, coming near to Hiawatha, opened
his mouth as if he was about to snarl. Hiawatha jumped up saying, "You
filthy dog, you have eaten so much that your stomach refuses to hold
it. Get you gone into some other place." The old wolf, hearing the
abuse, went a little to one side to see, and behold, a heap of fresh
ruddy meat, with the fat lying all ready prepared. He was followed
by Hiawatha, who, having the enchantment instantly removed, put on
a smiling face. "Amazement!" said he; "how fine the meat is." "Yes,"
replied the wolf; "it is always so with us; we know our work, and
always get the best. It is not a long tail that makes a hunter."
Hiawatha bit his lip.
They then commenced fixing their winter quarters, while the youngsters
went out in search of game, and soon brought in a large supply.
One day, during the absence of the young wolves, the old one amused
himself in cracking the large bones of a moose. "Hiawatha," said he,
"cover your head with the robe, and do not look at me while I am at
these bones, for a piece may fly in your eye." He did as he was told;
but, looking through a rent that was in the robe, he saw what the
other was about. Just at that moment a piece flew off and hit him on
the eye. He cried out, "Tyau, why do you strike me, you old dog?" The
wolf said, "You must have been looking at me." But deception commonly
leads to falsehood. "No, no," he said, "why should I want to look at
you?" "Hiawatha," said the wolf, "you _must_ have been looking, or you
would not have been hurt." "No, no," he replied again, "I was not. I
will repay the saucy wolf this," thought he to himself. So, next day,
taking up a bone to obtain the marrow, he said to the wolf, "Cover
your head and don't look at me, for I fear a piece may fly in your
eye." The wolf did so. He then took the leg-bone of the moose, and
looking first to see if the wolf was well covered, he hit him a blow
with all his might. The wolf jumped up, cried out, and fell prostrate
from the effects of the blow. "Why," said he, "do you strike me so?"
"Strike you!" he replied; "no, you must have been looking at me."
"No," answered the wolf, "I say I have not." But he persisted in the
assertion, and the poor magician had to give up.
Hiawatha was an expert hunter when he earnestly tried to be. He went
out one day and killed a fat moose. He was very hungry, and sat down
to eat. But immediately he fell into great doubts as to the proper
point to begin. "Well," said he, "I do not know where to begin. At the
head? No! People will laugh, and say 'he ate him backwards!'" He went
to the side. "No!" said he, "they will say I ate him sideways." He
then went to the hind-quarter. "No!" said he, "they will say I ate him
toward the head. I will begin _here_, say what they will." He took
a delicate piece from the rump, and was just ready to put it in his
mouth, when a tree close by made a creaking sound, caused by the
rubbing of one large branch against another. This annoyed him. "Why!"
he exclaimed, "I cannot eat while I hear such a noise. Stop! stop!"
said he to the tree. He was putting the morsel again to his mouth,
when the noise was repeated. He put it down, exclaiming, "I _cannot
eat_ in such confusion," and immediately left the meat, although very
hungry, to go and put a stop to the racket. He climbed the tree and
was pulling at the limb, when his arm was caught between two branches
so that he could not extricate himself. While thus held fast, he saw a
pack of wolves coming in the direction towards his meat. "Go that way!
go that way!" he cried out; "why do you come here?" The wolves talked
among themselves and said, "Hiawatha must have something here, or he
would not tell us to go another way." "I begin to know him," said an
old wolf, "and all his tricks. Let us go forward and see." They came
on and finding the moose, soon made away with the whole carcass.
Hiawatha looked on wistfully to see them eat till they were fully
satisfied, and they left him nothing but the bare bones. The next
heavy blast of wind opened the branches and liberated him. He went
home, thinking to himself, "See the effect of meddling with frivolous
things when I already had valuable possessions."
Next day the old wolf addressed him thus: "My brother, I am going to
separate from you, but I will leave behind me one of the young
wolves to be your hunter." He then departed. In this act Hiawatha was
disenchanted, and again resumed his mortal shape. He was sorrowful and
dejected, but soon resumed his wonted air of cheerfulness. The young
wolf that was left with him was a good hunter, and never failed to
keep the lodge well supplied with meat. One day he addressed him
as follows: "My grandson, I had a dream last night, and it does not
portend good. It is of the large lake which lies in _that_ direction.
You must be careful never to cross it, even if the ice should appear
good. If you should come to it at night weary or hungry, you must make
the circuit of it." Spring commenced, and the snow was melting fast
before the rays of the sun, when one evening the wolf came to the
lake weary with the day's chase. He disliked the journey of making its
circuit. "Hwooh!" he exclaimed, "there can be no great harm in trying
the ice, as it appears to be sound. Nesho, my grandfather, is over
cautious on this point." He had gone but half way across when the ice
gave way, and falling in, he was immediately seized by the serpents,
who knowing he was Hiawatha's grandson, were thirsting for revenge
upon him. Meanwhile Hiawatha sat pensively in his lodge.
Night came on, but no grandson returned. The second and third night
passed, but he did not appear. Hiawatha became very desolate and
sorrowful. "Ah!" said he, "he must have disobeyed me, and has lost his
life in that lake I told him of. Well!" said he at last, "I must mourn
for him." So he took coal and blackened his face. But he was much
perplexed as to the right mode of mourning. "I wonder," said he, "how
I must do it? I will cry 'Oh! my grandson! Oh! my grandson!'" He burst
out laughing. "No! no! that won't do. I will try 'Oh! my heart! Oh! my
heart! ha! ha! ha!' That won't do either. I will cry, 'Oh my drowned
grandson.'"
This satisfied him, and he remained in his lodge and fasted, till his
days of mourning were over. "Now," said he, "I will go in search of
him." He set out and traveled till he came to the great lake. He then
raised the lamentation for his grandson which had pleased him,
sitting down near a small brook that emptied itself into the lake, and
repeating his cries. Soon a bird called Ke-ske-mun-i-see came near to
him. The bird inquired, "What are you doing here?" "Nothing," Hiawatha
replied; "but can you tell me whether any one lives in this lake, and
what brings you here yourself?" "Yes!" responded the bird; "the Prince
of Serpents lives here, and I am watching to see whether the body of
Hiawatha's grandson will not drift ashore, for he was killed by the
serpents last spring. But are you not Hiawatha himself?" "No," was the
reply, with his usual deceit; "how do you think _he_ could get to this
place? But tell me, do the serpents ever appear? When? Where? Tell
me all about their habits." "Do you see that beautiful white sandy
beach?" said the bird. "Yes!" he answered. "It is there," continued
the bird, "that they bask in the sun. Before they come out, the lake
will appear perfectly calm; not even a ripple will appear. After
midday you will see them."
"Thank you," he replied; "I am Hiawatha. I have come in search of the
body of my grandson, and to seek my revenge. Come near me that I may
put a medal round your neck as a reward for your information." The
bird unsuspectingly came near, and received a white medal, which can
be seen to this day. While bestowing the medal, he attempted slyly to
wring the bird's head off, but it escaped him, with only a disturbance
of the crown feathers of its head, which are rumpled backward. He
had found out all he wanted to know, and then desired to conceal the
knowledge obtained by killing his informant.
He went to the sandy beach indicated, and transformed himself into an
oak stump. He had not been there long before the lake became perfectly
calm. Soon hundreds of monstrous serpents came crawling on the beach.
One of the number was beautifully white. He was the Prince. The others
were red and yellow. The Prince spoke to those about him as follows:
"I never saw that black stump standing there before. It may be
Hiawatha. There is no knowing but that he may be somewhere about here.
He has the power of an evil genius, and we should be on our guard
against his wiles." One of the large serpents immediately went and
twisted himself around it to the top, and pressed it very hard. The
greatest pressure happened to be on his throat; he was just ready to
cry out when the serpent let go. Eight of them went in succession and
did the like, but always let go at the moment he was ready to cry out.
"It cannot be he," they said. "He is too great a weak-heart for that."
They then coiled themselves in a circle about their Prince. It was a
long time before they fell asleep. When they did so, Hiawatha, took
his bow and arrows, and cautiously stepping over the serpents till he
came to the Prince, drew up his arrow with the full strength of his
arm, and shot him in the left side. He then gave a saw-saw-quan and
ran off at full speed.
The sound uttered by the snakes on seeing their Prince mortally
wounded, was horrible. They cried, "Hiawatha has killed our Prince;
go in chase of him." Meantime he ran over hill and valley, to gain the
interior of the country, with all his strength and speed, treading a
mile at a step. But his pursuers were also spirits, and he could
hear that something was approaching him fast. He made for the highest
mountain, and climbed the highest tree on its summit, when, dreadful
to behold, the whole lower country was seen to be overflowed, and the
water was gaining rapidly on the highlands. He saw it reach to the
foot of the mountains, and at length it came up to the foot of the
tree, but there was no abatement.