| |
| “GIVE me of your bark, O Birch-tree! | |
| Of your yellow bark, O Birch-tree! | |
| Growing by the rushing river, | |
| Tall and stately in the valley! | |
| I a light canoe will build me, | 5 |
| Build a swift Cheemaun for sailing, | |
| That shall float upon the river, | |
| Like a yellow leaf in Autumn, | |
| Like a yellow water-lily! | |
| “Lay aside your cloak, O Birch-tree! | 10 |
| Lay aside your white-skin wrapper, | |
| For the Summer-time is coming, | |
| And the sun is warm in heaven, | |
| And you need no white-skin wrapper!” | |
| Thus aloud cried Hiawatha | 15 |
| In the solitary forest, | |
| By the rushing Taquamenaw, | |
| When the birds were singing gayly, | |
| In the Moon of Leaves were singing, | |
| And the sun, from sleep awaking, | 20 |
| Started up and said, “Behold me! | |
| Gheezis, the great Sun, behold me!” | |
| And the tree with all its branches | |
| Rustled in the breeze of morning, | |
| Saying, with a sigh of patience, | 25 |
| “Take my cloak, O Hiawatha!” | |
| With his knife the tree he girdled; | |
| Just beneath its lowest branches, | |
| Just above the roots, he cut it, | |
| Till the sap came oozing outward; | 30 |
| Down the trunk, from top to bottom, | |
| Sheer he cleft the bark asunder, | |
| With a wooden wedge he raised it, | |
| Stripped it from the trunk unbroken. | |
| “Give me of your boughs, O Cedar! | 35 |
| Of your strong and pliant branches, | |
| My canoe to make more steady, | |
| Make more strong and firm beneath me!” | |
| Through the summit of the Cedar | |
| Went a sound, a cry of horror, | 40 |
| Went a murmur of resistance; | |
| But it whispered, bending downward, | |
| “Take my boughs, O Hiawatha!” | |
| Down he hewed the boughs of cedar, | |
| Shaped them straightway to a frame-work, | 45 |
| Like two bows he formed and shaped them, | |
| Like two bended bows together. | |
| “Give me of your roots, O Tamarack! | |
| Of your fibrous roots, O Larch-tree! | |
| My canoe to bind together, | 50 |
| So to bind the ends together | |
| That the water may not enter, | |
| That the river may not wet me!” | |
| And the Larch, with all its fibres, | |
| Shivered in the air of morning, | 55 |
| Touched his forehead with its tassels, | |
| Said, with one long sigh of sorrow, | |
| “Take them all, O Hiawatha!” | |
| From the earth he tore the fibres, | |
| Tore the tough roots of the Larch-tree, | 60 |
| Closely sewed the bark together, | |
| Bound it closely to the frame-work. | |
| “Give me of your balm, O Fir-tree! | |
| Of your balsam and your resin, | |
| So to close the seams together | 65 |
| That the water may not enter, | |
| That the river may not wet me!” | |
| And the Fir-tree, tall and sombre, | |
| Sobbed through all its robes of darkness, | |
| Rattled like a shore with pebbles, | 70 |
| Answered wailing, answered weeping, | |
| “Take my balm, O Hiawatha!” | |
| And he took the tears of balsam, | |
| Took the resin of the Fir-tree, | |
| Smeared therewith each seam and fissure, | 75 |
| Made each crevice safe from water. | |
| “Give me of your quills, O Hedgehog! | |
| All your quills, O Kagh, the Hedgehog! | |
| I will make a necklace of them, | |
| Make a girdle for my beauty, | 80 |
| And two stars to deck her bosom!” | |
| From a hollow tree the Hedgehog | |
| With his sleepy eyes looked at him, | |
| Shot his shining quills, like arrows, | |
| Saying with a drowsy murmur, | 85 |
| Through the tangle of his whiskers, | |
| “Take my quills, O Hiawatha!” | |
| From the ground the quills he gathered, | |
| All the little shining arrows, | |
| Stained them red and blue and yellow, | 90 |
| With the juice of roots and berries; | |
| Into his canoe he wrought them, | |
| Round its waist a shining girdle, | |
| Round its bows a gleaming necklace, | |
| On its breast two stars resplendent. | 95 |
| Thus the Birch Canoe was builded | |
| In the valley, by the river, | |
| In the bosom of the forest; | |
| And the forest’s life was in it, | |
| All its mystery and its magic, | 100 |
| All the lightness of the birch-tree, | |
| All the toughness of the cedar, | |
| All the larch’s supple sinews; | |
| And it floated on the river | |
| Like a yellow leaf in Autumn, | 105 |
| Like a yellow water-lily. | |
| Paddles none had Hiawatha, | |
| Paddles none he had or needed, | |
| For his thoughts as paddles served him, | |
| And his wishes served to guide him; | 110 |
| Swift or slow at will he glided, | |
| Veered to right or left at pleasure. | |
| Then he called aloud to Kwasind, | |
| To his friend, the strong man, Kwasind, | |
| Saying, “Help me clear this river | 115 |
| Of its sunken logs and sand-bars.” | |
| Straight into the river Kwasind | |
| Plunged as if he were an otter, | |
| Dived as if he were a beaver, | |
| Stood up to his waist in water, | 120 |
| To his arm-pits in the river, | |
| Swam and shouted in the river, | |
| Tugged at sunken logs and branches, | |
| With his hands he scooped the sand-bars, | |
| With his feet the ooze and tangle. | 125 |
| And thus sailed my Hiawatha | |
| Down the rushing Taquamenaw, | |
| Sailed through all its bends and windings, | |
| Sailed through all its deeps and shallows, | |
| While his friend, the strong man, Kwasing, | 130 |
| Swam the deeps, the shallows waded. | |
| Up and down the river went they, | |
| In and out among its islands, | |
| Cleared its bed of root and sand-bar, | |
| Dragged the dead trees from its channel, | 135 |
| Made its passage safe and certain, | |
| Made a pathway for the people, | |
| From its springs among the mountains, | |
| To the waters of Pauwating, | |
| To the bay of Taquamenaw. | 140 |
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