Thursday's Serial: “The Song of Hiawatha” by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow (in English) - XXI

 

XXI. THE WHITE MAN'S FOOT.

In 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,

"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,

When I breathe upon the landscape,

Motionless are all the rivers,

Hard as stone becomes the water!"

And the young man answered, smiling:

"When I blow my breath about me,

When I breathe upon the landscape,

Flowers spring up o'er all the meadows,

Singing, onward rush the rivers!"

"When I shake my hoary tresses,"

Said the old man darkly frowning,

"All the land with snow is covered;

All the leaves from all the branches

Fall and fade and die and wither,

For I breathe, and lo! they are not.

From the waters and the marshes

Rise the wild goose and the heron,

Fly away to distant regions,

For I speak, and lo! they are not.

And where'er my footsteps wander,

All the wild beasts of the forest

Hide themselves in holes and caverns,

And the earth becomes as flintstone!"

"When I shake my flowing ringlets,"

Said the young man, softly laughing,

"Showers of rain fall warm and welcome,

Plants lift up their heads rejoicing,

Back unto their lakes and marshes

Come the wild goose and the heron,

Homeward shoots the arrowy swallow,

Sing the blue-bird and the robin,

And where'er my footsteps wander,

All the meadows wave with blossoms,

All the woodlands ring with music,

All the trees are dark with foliage!"

While they spake, the night departed;

From the distant realms of Wabun,

From his shining lodge of silver,

Like a warrior robed and painted,

Came the sun, and said, "Behold me!

Gheezis, the great sun, behold me!"

Then the old man's tongue was speechless,

And the air grew warm and pleasant,

And upon the wigwam sweetly

Sang the blue-bird and the robin,

And the stream began to murmur,

And a scent of growing grasses

Through the lodge was gently wafted.

And Segwun, the youthful stranger,

More distinctly in the daylight

Saw the icy face before him;

It was Peboan, the Winter!

From his eyes the tears were flowing,

As from melting lakes the streamlets,

And his body shrunk and dwindled

As the shouting sun ascended,

Till into the air it faded,

Till into the ground it vanished,

And the young man saw before him,

On the hearth-stone of the wigwam,

Where the fire had smoked and smouldered,

Saw the earliest flower of Spring-time,

Saw the Beauty of the Spring-time,

Saw the Miskodeed in blossom.

Thus it was that in the Northland

After that unheard-of coldness,

That intolerable Winter,

Came the Spring with all its splendor,

All its birds and all its blossoms,

All its flowers and leaves and grasses.

Sailing on the wind to northward,

Flying in great flocks, like arrows,

Like huge arrows shot through heaven,

Passed the swan, the Mahnahbezee,

Speaking almost as a man speaks;

And in long lines waving, bending

Like a bow-string snapped asunder,

The white goose, the Waw-be-wawa;

And in pairs, or singly flying,

Mahng the loon, with clangorous pinions,

The blue heron, the Shuh-shuh-gah,

And the growse, the Mushkodasa.

In the thickets and the meadows

Piped the blue-bird, the Owaissa,

On the summit of the lodges

Sang the Opechee, the robin,

In the covert of the pine-trees

Cooed the Omemee, the pigeon,

And the sorrowing Hiawatha,

Speechless in his infinite sorrow,

Heard their voices calling to him,

Went forth from his gloomy doorway,

Stood and gazed into the heaven,

Gazed upon the earth and waters.

From his wanderings far to eastward,

From the regions of the morning,

From the shining land of Wabun,

Homeward now returned Iagoo,

The great traveller, the great boaster,

Full of new and strange adventures,

Marvels many and many wonders.

And the people of the village

Listened to him as he told them

Of his marvellous adventures,

Laughing answered him in this wise:

"Ugh! it is indeed Iagoo!

No one else beholds such wonders!"

He had seen, he said, a water

Bigger than the Big-Sea-Water,

Broader than the Gitche Gumee,

Bitter so that none could drink it!

At each other looked the warriors,

Looked the women at each other,

Smiled, and said, "It cannot be so!

Kaw!" they said, "it cannot be so!"

O'er it, said he, o'er this water

Came a great canoe with pinions,

A canoe with wings came flying,

Bigger than a grove of pine-trees,

Taller than the tallest tree-tops!

And the old men and the women

Looked and tittered at each other;

"Kaw!" they said, we don't believe it!"

From its mouth, he said, to greet him,

Came Waywassimo, the lightning,

Came the thunder, Annemeekee!

And the warriors and the women

Laughed aloud at poor Iagoo;

"Kaw!" they said, "what tales you tell us!"

In it, said he, came a people,

In the great canoe with pinions

Came, he said, a hundred warriors;

Painted white were all their faces,

And with hair their chins were covered!

And the warriors and the women

Laughed and shouted in derision,

Like the ravens on the tree-tops,

Like the crows upon the hemlocks.

"Kaw!" they said, "what lies you tell us!

Do not think that we believe them!"

Only Hiawatha laughed not,

But he gravely spake and answered

To their jeering and their jesting:

"True is all Iagoo tells us;

I have seen it in a vision,

Seen the great canoe with pinions,

Seen the people with white faces,

Seen the coming of this bearded

People of the wooden vessel

From the regions of the morning,

From the shining land of Wabun.

"Gitche Manito the Mighty,

The Great Spirit, the Creator,

Sends them hither on his errand,

Sends them to us with his message.

Wheresoe'er they move, before them

Swarms the stinging fly, the Ahmo,

Swarms the bee, the honey-maker;

Wheresoe'er they tread, beneath them

Springs a flower unknown among us,

Springs the White-man's Foot in blossom.

"Let us welcome, then, the strangers,

Hail them as our friends and brothers,

And the heart's right hand of friendship

Give them when they come to see us.

Gitche Manito, the Mighty,

Said this to me in my vision.

"I beheld, too, in that vision

All the secrets of the future,

Of the distant days that shall be.

I beheld the westward marches

Of the unknown, crowded nations.

All the land was full of people,

Restless, struggling, toiling, striving,

Speaking many tongues, yet feeling

But one heart-beat in their bosoms.

In the woodlands rang their axes,

Smoked their towns in all the valleys,

Over all the lakes and rivers

Rushed their great canoes of thunder.

"Then a darker, drearier vision

Passed before me, vague and cloud-like;

I beheld our nations scattered,

All forgetful of my counsels,

Weakened, warring with each other;

Saw the remnants of our people

Sweeping westward, wild and woful,

Like the cloud-rack of a tempest,

Like the withered leaves of autumn!"

Wednesday's Good Reading; "The Palace That Stood on Golden Pillars" (Sweden) as told by Benjamin Thorpe (in English).

 

There was once a peasant, who with his wife lived very, very far in the woods. They had two children, a boy and a girl. They were very poor, all their wealth consisting in a cow and a cat.

This peasant and his wife lived in a state of constant strife with each other, and you might have been sure, that if the old man desired one thing, the old woman always desired another.

It happened one day that the old woman had boiled some porridge for supper, and when it was ready, and each had received a share, the old man would scrape the pot. This the old woman opposed with all her might, asserting that the right of scraping belonged to her, and her only. Hence a desperate quarrel ensued, neither being willing to yield to the other. The end was, that the old woman snatched up the pot and the ladle and ran off, the old man with a whip following close at her heels. And away they went over hill and dale, the old woman first, and the old man close behind her; but our history does not inform us which of the two finally obtained the scraping of the pot.

When a considerable time had elapsed, and no tidings were heard of their parents, the children had no alternative but to go out into the wide world and seek their fortune. So they resolved on leaving their habitation, and dividing their inheritance. But, as it generally happens, the division was a mighty difficult affair; there being nothing to divide save the cow and the cat, and both being desirous of having the cow.

While they were discussing the point, the cat, with a most insinuating mien, approaching the sister, gently rubbed her knee, and mewed: "Take me, take me."

So, as the boy would not let go the cow, the girl gave up her pretension and contented herself with the cat. They then parted from each other, the boy with the cow going his way, and the girl with her cat wandering through the wood; but of her and her companion's adventures nothing has been related to me, until they came to a spacious and splendid palace, which lay at some distance before them.

While both travelers were on their way to the beautiful palace, the cat began to converse with his mistress, and said: "If you will follow my advice, it shall bring you luck."

The girl, who placed great confidence in her companion's prudence, promised to follow his directions. The cat thereupon desired her to take off her old garments, and climb up into a high tree, while he would go to the palace and say, that there was a princess, who had been attacked by robbers and stripped both of property and clothes. The girl did accordingly, threw off her old rags and placed herself in the tree. The cat then went; but the girl sat in a great fright, as to how the matter would turn out.

When the king, who ruled the land, was informed that a foreign princess had suffered such violence, he was exceedingly troubled, and sent his servants to invite her to the palace. The young girl was now abundantly supplied with costly attire, and whatever else she required, and accompanied the royal messengers.

On arriving at the palace, all were struck with her beauty and courteous manners; but the king's son paid her the most marked homage, and declared that he could not live without her. The queen, however, had her suspicions, and asked the beautiful princess where her residence was.

The girl answered as she had been instructed by the cat: "I dwell very far from here, in a castle called Cattenburg."

Still the old queen was not satisfied, but resolved with herself to ascertain whether the strange damsel were really a king's daughter or not. For this purpose she went to the guest-chamber, and made ready a bed for the peasant girl with soft silken bolsters, but laid secretly a bean under the sheet; "Because," thought she, " if she is a princess, she cannot fail to notice it."

The young girl was then conducted to her apartment with great state. But the cat had observed the queen's stratagem, and apprized his mistress of it. In the morning, the old queen entered, and inquired how her guest had passed the night.

The girl answered as the cat had instructed her: "All, yes, I have slept, for I was very weary after my journey; but it seemed as if I had a large mountain under me. I slept much better in my bed at Cattenburg."

The queen now thought that the damsel must have been delicately bred; yet resolved on making one more trial.

On the following evening the queen went again to the guest-chamber, and having prepared the peasant girl's bed as before, laid some peas under the first pillow; and when it was morning, entered and inquired of her guest how she had slept. But, following the cat's instructions, she answered: "Ah, yes, I have slept, for I was very tired; but it seemed as if I had large stones under me. I slept much better in my bed at Cattenburg."

The old queen now thought that she had well stood the trial, yet could not entirely dismiss her suspicions, and therefore determined on a third attempt, for the purpose of finding out whether the strange damsel really were of such high birth as she pretended to be.

When the third evening came, the queen went again to the guest-chamber, and, having prepared the bed as before, laid a straw under the second pillow; and when the queen came in the morning and inquired how she had slept, she again answered as the cat had instructed: "Ah, yes, I have slept; for I was very tired; but it seemed as if I had a large tree under me. I was much better served at Cattenburg."

The queen now found that there was no sure way of arriving at the truth in this manner, and therefore resolved on keeping watch how the strange damsel conducted herself in other respects.

On the following day the queen sent to her guest a costly dress, embroidered with silk, and with a very, very long train, such as were worn by women of high rank. The peasant girl thanked her for the present, and thought no more about it; but the cat, that was close at her elbow, apprized his mistress that the old queen would put her to another trial. When some time had passed, the queen sent to inquire whether the princess would accompany her on a walk. The peasant girl consented, and they set out. On entering a garden, the court ladies were very fearful lest they should soil their dresses, as it had rained during the night. But the strange damsel continued walking, with out heeding whether her long train was being dragged through the mud or not.

Whereupon the queen said: "My dear princess, take care of your dress."

To which the peasant girl proudly answered: "Oh, there must be more dresses to be had here besides this. I had much better when I was in my castle at Cattenburg."

Now the old queen could not think otherwise than that the damsel was accustomed to wear silk-embroidered garments, and thence concluded that she must be a king's daughter; so could no longer entertain any objection to her son's marriage, to which the peasant girl also gave her consent.

It happened one day, as the prince and his beloved were sitting conversing together, that the damsel, on looking through the window, saw her parents come running out of the wood, the old woman first with the pot, and the old man close at her heels with the ladle. At the sight the girl could not contain herself, but burst out into a loud laugh.

On the prince inquiring why she laughed so heartily, she said, as the cat had instructed her: "I cannot help laughing when I think that your palace stands on stone pillars, while mine stands on golden ones."

When the prince heard this he was greatly surprised, and said: "Your thoughts are always dwelling on the beautiful Cattenburg, and you seem to think that all things are better there than with us. We will go and see your splendid palace, let the distance be ever so great."

At this the peasant's daughter was so alarmed that she would willingly have sunk into the earth, knowing well that she had not a house, much less a palace. But there being no remedy, she put a good face on the matter, saying that she would consider on what day they should commence their journey.

When she found herself alone, she gave free vent to her trouble, and wept bitterly; for she thought of all the disgrace that would fall on her for her deceit and falsehood. While she thus sat and wept, in walked the sagacious cat, rubbed himself against her knee, and inquired the cause of her sorrow.

"I may well be sorrowful," answered the peasant's daughter; "for the king's son says that we shall go to Cattenburg; so now I am like to pay dearly for having followed thy counsel."

But the cat bade her be of good cheer, and added, that he would so manage matters, that everything should turn out better than she could imagine; at the same time telling her that the sooner they set out the better. Having had already so many proofs of the cat's wisdom, she followed his instructions, though this time with a heavy heart; for she could not free herself from the apprehension that their journey would have an unfortunate termination.

Early on the following morning, the king's son ordered chariots and drivers, and everything besides which he thought necessary for their long journey to Cattenburg. The train then set out. The prince and his betrothed went first in a gilded chariot, attended by a numerous body of knights and squires; while the cat ran foremost of all to show them the way.

After travelling for some time, the cat perceived some goatherds driving to the field a large flock of most beautiful goats; so going up to the men, he greeted them courteously, saying: "Good day, goatherds! When the king's son rides by and inquires to whom those fine goats belong, you must say they belong to the young princess at Cattenburg, who rides by the prince's side. If you do so, you shall be well rewarded; but if not, I will tear you in pieces."

On hearing this the goatherds were much surprised, but promised to obey the cat's bidding. He then pursued his way. Shortly after came the king's son riding with all his train. On seeing such beautiful goats feeding in the field, he stopped his chariot, and inquired of the herdsmen to whom they belonged.

They answered, as the cat had instructed them: "They belong to the young princess at Cattenburg, who rides by your side."

At this the king's son wondered greatly, and thought that his betrothed must be a powerful princess; and the peasant girl was not a little glad at heart, and thought that she was not the losing party, when she divided the inheritance with her brother.

They now continued their journey, the cat running foremost. After travelling for some time they came to where a number of persons were making hay in a pleasant field.

These the cat saluted very courteously, saying as before: "Good day, good people! When the king's son comes by and inquires to whom this beautiful meadow belongs, you must answer that it belongs to the princess at Cattenburg, who rides by the prince's side. If you do so, you shall be well rewarded; but if you do not do as I have said, I will tear you to atoms."

When the men heard this they were greatly surprised, and promised to say what the cat desired. The cat then ran on as before. Shortly after came the king's son in his chariot with his whole retinue. On seeing the fertile fields and the number of people, he caused his chariot to stop, and inquired who was the owner of the land.

The men, following the cat's instructions, answered: "The fields belong to the young princess at Cattenburg, who rides by your side."

The king's son was now yet more surprised, and thought that his bride must be immensely rich, seeing that she owned such beautiful hay-fields.

Resuming their journey, and preceded by the cat, they approached at length a very extensive corn-field, which swarmed with men and women, all busily employed in reaping. Here the cat again ran forth, enjoining and threatening as on the former occasions; so that when the prince came by and inquired to whom the fields belonged, he received an answer similar to the foregoing. It was now late in the evening, and the prince stopped with his attendants for the purpose of resting during the night.

But the cat took no rest, but ran hastily forwards, until he saw a beautiful castle with its towers and battlements, and supported by golden pillars. This splendid palace belonged to a fierce giant, who owned the entire neighboring country; but was at that time absent from home. The cat therefore passed through the castle gate, and transformed himself into a large loaf; then stationed himself in the key-hole, and awaited the giant's return. Early in the morning, before the dawn, the frightful giant, who was so huge and heavy that the earth shook under him as he walked, came jogging out of the forest. When he came to the castle gate, he could not open it, because of the great loaf that stuck in the key-hole.

Thereupon he became exceedingly angry, and cried: " Unlock! unlock!"

To which the cat answered: "Just wait a little, little moment, while I tell my story:

    "First they kneaded me as if they would knead me to death."

"Unlock! unlock!" cried the giant again; but the cat answered as before: "Just wait a little, little moment, while I tell my story:

 

    "First they kneaded me as if they would knead me to death;

    Then they floured me as if they would flour me to death."

 

"Unlock! unlock!" vociferated the giant in a towering passion; but the cat repeated: "Just wait a little, little moment, while I tell my story:

 

    "First they kneaded me as if they would knead me to death;

    Then they floured me as if they would flour me to death;

    Then they pricked me as if they would prick me to death."

 

The giant was now beside himself with rage, and roared out so that the whole castle shook: "Unlock! unlock!"

But the cat was not to be moved, and answered as before: "Just wait a little moment, while I tell my story:

 

    "First they kneaded me as if they would knead, me to death;

    Then they floured me as if they would flour me to death;

    Then they pricked me as if they would prick me to death;

    Then they baked me as if they would bake me to death."

 

The giant now felt uneasy, and cried out quite gently: "Unlock! unlock!" but all in vain; the loaf remained quiet in the key-hole as before.

At the same moment the cat cried out: "Only see what a beautiful girl is riding up in the sky!"

As the Troll looked up, the sun had just risen above the forest, at the sight of which he fell back and split into shivers. Such was his end.

The loaf then transformed itself again into a cat, and hastened to set everything in order for his guests.

After some time, the king's son and his fair young bride arrived with all their train. The cat went out to receive them, and bid them welcome to Cattenburg. They were now entertained most sumptuously, and there was wanting neither meat nor drink, nor any costly luxury. The noble castle was full of gold and silver, and all kinds of precious things, such as the like was never seen before or since. Shortly after the marriage was solemnized between the prince and the fair young maiden; and all who saw her wealth, thought she had good reason for saying: "I had it otherwise in my castle at Cattenburg."

The king's son and the peasant's daughter lived happily together for very many years; but I have never heard how it fared with the cat; though we may almost guess that he wanted for nothing.