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The Myth of Hiawatha, and Other Oral Legends, Mythologic and Allegoric, of the North American Indians Part 23

The Myth of Hiawatha, and Other Oral Legends, Mythologic and Allegoric, of the North American Indians - LightNovelsOnl.com

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It is supposed to be four days' journey to the land of the dead; wherefore, during four nights, the Chippewas kindle a fire on the grave.

Light up a fire upon my grave When I am dead.

'Twill softly shed its beaming rays, To guide the soul its darkling ways; And ever, as the day's full light Goes down and leaves the world in night, These kindly gleams, with warmth possest, Shall show my spirit where to rest When I am dead.

Four days the funeral rite renew, When I am dead.

While onward bent, with typic woes, I seek the red man's last repose; Let no rude hand the flame destroy, Nor mar the scene with festive joy; While night by night, a ghostly guest, I journey to my final rest, When I am dead.

No moral light directs my way When I am dead.

A hunter's fate, a warrior's fame, A shade, a phantom, or a name, All life-long through my hands have sought, Unblest, unlettered, and untaught: Deny me not the boon I crave-- A symbol-light upon my grave, When I am dead.

MANITO.

"Every exhibition of elementary power, in earth or sky, is deemed, by the Indians, as a symbolic type of a deity."--_Hist. Inds._

In the frowning cliff, that high Glooms above the pa.s.sing eye, Casting spectral shadows tall Over lower rock and wall; In its morn and sunset glow, I behold a Manito.

By the lake or river lone, In the humble fretted stone, Water-sculptured, and, by chance, Cast along the wave's expanse; In its morn and sunset glow, I behold a Manito.

In whatever's dark or new, And my senses cannot view, Complex work, appearance strange, Arts' advance, or nature's change-- Fearful e'er of hurt or woe, I behold a Manito.

In the motions of the sky, Where the angry lightnings fly, And the thunder, dread and dire, Lifts his mighty voice in fire-- Awed with fear of sudden woe, I behold a Manito.

Here my humble voice I lift, Here I lay my sacred gift, And, with heart of fear and awe, Raise my loud _Wau-la-le-au_.

Spirit of the fields above, Thee I fear, and Thee I love, Whether joy betide or woe, Thou, thou art my Manito.

NIAGARA, AN ALLEGORY.

An old gray man on a mountain lived, He had daughters four and one, And a tall bright lodge of the betula bark That glittered in the sun.

He lived on the very highest top.

For he was a hunter free, Where he could spy, on the clearest day, Gleams of the distant sea.

"Come out! come out!" cried the youngest one; "Let us off to look at the sea!"

And out they ran, in their gayest robes, And skipped and ran with glee.

"Come, Su;[110] come, Mi;[111] come, Hu;[112] come, Cla;"[113]

Cried laughing little Er;[114]

"Let us go to yonder deep blue sea, Where the breakers foam and roar."

And on they scampered by valley and wood, By earth and air and sky, Till they came to a steep where the bare rocks stood, In a precipice mountain high.

"Inya!"[115] cried Er, "here's a dreadful leap!

But we are gone so far, That, if we flinch and return in fear, Nos[116] he will cry, 'Ha! ha!'"

Now, each was clad in a vesture light, That floated far behind, With sandals of frozen water drops, And wings of painted wind.

And down they plunged with a merry skip, Like birds that skim the plain; And "Hey!" they cried, "let us up and try, And down the steep again!"

And up and down the daughters skipped, Like girls on a holiday, And laughed outright at the sport and foam They called Niagara.

If ye would see a sight so rare, Where Nature's in her glee, Go, view the spot in the wide wild West, The land of the brave and free!

But mark--their shapes are only seen In Fancy's deepest play; But she plainly shows their wings and feet In the dancing sunny spray.

[110] Superior.

[111] Michigan.

[112] Huron.

[113] St. Clair.

[114] Erie.

[115] An exclamation of wonder and surprise.--_Odj. lan._

[116] My father.--_Ib._

CHILEELI.

The Chippewas relate that the spirit of a young lover, who was killed in battle, determined to return to his affianced maid, in the shape of a bird, and console her by his songs. He found her in a chosen retreat, where she daily resorted to pa.s.s her pensive hours.

Stay not here--the men are base, I have found a happier place, Where no war, or want severe, Haunts the mind with thoughts of fear; Men are cruel--b.l.o.o.d.y--cold, Seeking like lynx the rabbit's wold, Not to guard from winds or drought, But to suck its life's blood out.

Stay not here--oh, stay not here, 'Tis a world of want and fear.

I have found those happy plains, Where the blissful Spirit reigns, Such, as by our wise men old, All our fathers have foretold.

Streams of sparkling waters flow, Pure and clear, with silver glow; Woods and shady groves abound, Long sweet lawns and painted ground; Lakes, in winding sh.o.r.es extend, Fruits, with flowers, inviting blend; While, throughout the green-wood groves, Gayest birds sing out their loves.

Stay not here, my trustful maid, 'Tis a world for robbers made.

I will lead you, soul of love, To those flowery haunts above, Where no tears or pain are found-- Where no war-cry shakes the ground; Where no mother hangs her head, Crying: "Oh, my child is dead!"

Where no human blood is spilt, Where there is no pain, or guilt; But the new-freed spirit roves Round and round, in paths of loves.

Pauguk's[117] not admitted there, Blue the skies, and sweet the air; There are no diseases there; There no famished eyeball rolls, Sickness cannot harm the souls; Hunger is not there a guest, Souls are not with hunger press'd, All are happy, all are blest.

Rife the joys our fathers sought, Sweet to eye and ear and thought, Stay not here, my weeping maid, 'Tis a world in glooms arrayed.

[117] Death.

Wishes there, all wants supply, Wants of hand, and heart, and eye; Labor is not known--that thorn p.r.i.c.ks not there, at night or morn, As it goads frail mortals here, With its pain, and toil, and fear; Shadows typical and fair, Fill the woods, the fields, the air, Stately deer, the forests fill, Just to have them is to will; Birds walk kindly from the lakes, And whoever wants them, takes; There no drop of blood is drawn, Darts are for an earthy lawn.

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