The Feast of the Virgins and Other Poems Part 26

Then forth went Winona. The bow of Ta-te-psin she took and his arrows, And afar o'er the deep, drifted snow through the forest she sped on her snow shoes.

Over meadow and ice-covered mere, through the thickets of red-oak and hazel, She followed the tracks of the deer, but like phantoms they fled from her vision.

From sunrise to sunset she sped; half famished she camped in the thicket; In the cold snow she made her lone bed; on the buds of the birch[BN] made her supper.

To the dim moon the gray owl preferred, from the tree-top, his shrill lamentation, And around her at midnight she heard the dread famine-cries of the gray wolves.

In the gloam of the morning again on the trail of the red-deer she followed-- All day long through the thickets in vain, for the gray wolves were chasing the roebucks; And the cold, hungry winds from the plain chased the wolves and the deer and Winona.

[BJ] Wild-goose

[BK] Medicine-men.

[BL] January.

[BM] February.

[BN] The pheasant feeds on birch-buds in winter. Indians eat them when very hungry.

In the twilight of sundown she sat in the forest, all weak and despairing; Ta-te-psin's bow lay at her feet, and his otter-skin quiver of arrows "He promised,--he promised," she said,-- half-dreamily uttered and mournful,-- "And why comes he not? Is he dead?

Was he slain by the crafty Tamdoka?

Must Winona, alas, make her choice-- make her choice between death and Tamdoka?

She will die, but her soul will rejoice in the far Summer-land of the spirits.

Hark! I hear his low, musical voice!

he is coming! My White Chief is coming!

Ah, no, I am half in a dream!-- 'twas the memory of days long departed; But the birds of the green Summer seem to be singing above in the branches."

Then forth from her bosom she drew the crucified Jesus in silver.

In her dark hair the cold north-wind blew, as meekly she bent o'er the image.

"O Christ of the Whiteman," she prayed, "lead the feet of my brave to Kathaga; Send a good spirit down to my aid, or the friend of the White Chief will perish."

Then a smile on her wan features played, and she lifted her pale face and chanted

"E-ye-he-kta! E-ye-he-kta!

He-kta-ce; e-ye-ce-quon.

Mi-Wamdee-ska, he-he-kta, He-kta-ce, e-ye-ce-quon, Mi-Wamdee-ska."

[TRANSLATON]

He will come; he will come; He will come, for he promised.

My White Eagle, he will come; He will come, for he promised---- My White Eagle.

Thus sadly she chanted, and lo-- allured by her sorrowful accents-- From the dark covert crept a red roe and wonderingly gazed on Winona.

Then swift caught the huntress her bow; from her trembling hand hummed the keen arrow.

Up-leaped the red roebuck and fled, but the white snow was sprinkled with scarlet, And he fell in the oak thicket dead.

On the trail ran the eager Winona.

Half-famished the raw flesh she ate.

To the hungry maid sweet was her supper Then swift through the night ran her feet, and she trailed the sleek roebuck behind her; And the guide of her steps was a star-- the cold-glinting star of _Waziya_[BO]-- Over meadow and hilltop afar, on the way to the lodge of her father.

But hark! on the keen frosty air wind the shrill hunger-howls of the gray-wolves!

And nearer,--still nearer!--the blood of the deer have they scented and follow; Through the thicket, the meadow, the wood, dash the pack on the trail of Winona.

Swift she speeds with her burden, but swift on her track fly the minions of famine; Now they yell on the view from the drift, in the reeds at the marge of the meadow; Red gleam their wild, ravenous eyes, for they see on the hill-side their supper; The dark forest echoes their cries, but her heart is the heart of a warrior.

From its sheath s.n.a.t.c.hed Winona her knife, and a leg from the roebuck she severed; With the carca.s.s she ran for her life,-- to a low-branching oak ran the maiden; Round the deer's neck her head-strap[BP] was tied; swiftly she sprang to the arms of the oak-tree; Quick her burden she drew to her side, and higher she clomb on the branches, While the maddened wolves battled and bled, dealing death o'er the leg to each other; Their keen fangs devouring the dead,-- yea, devouring the flesh of the living, They raved and they gnashed and they growled, like the fiends in the regions infernal; The wide night re-echoing howled, and the hoa.r.s.e North-wind laughed o'er the slaughter.

But their ravenous maws unappeased by the blood and the flesh of their fellows, To the cold wind their muzzles they raised, and the trail to the oak-tree they followed.

Round and round it they howled for the prey, madly leaping and snarling and snapping; But the brave maiden's keen arrows slay, till the dead number more than the living.

All the long, dreary night-time, at bay, in the oak sat the s.h.i.+vering Winona; But the sun gleamed at last, and away skulked the gray cowards[BQ] down through the forest.

Then down dropped the deer and the maid.

Ere the sun reached the midst of his journey, Her red, welcome burden she laid at the feet of her famis.h.i.+ng father.

_Waziya's_ wild wrath was appeased, and homeward he turned to his _teepee_,[3]

O'er the plains and the forest-land breezed from the Islands of Summer the South-wind.

From their dens came the c.o.o.n and the bear; o'er the snow through the woodlands they wandered; On her snow-shoes with stout bow and spear on their trails ran the huntress Winona.

The c.o.o.n to his den in the tree, and the bear to his burrow she followed; A brave, skillful hunter was she, and Ta-te-psin's lodge laughed with abundance.

[BO] _Waziya's_ Star is the North-star.

[Ill.u.s.tration]

[BP] A strap used in carrying burdens.

[BQ] Wolves sometimes attack people at night, but rarely, if ever, in the day time. If they have followed a hunter all night, and "treed" him, they will skulk away as soon as the sun rises.

DEATH OF TA-TE-PSIN.

The long winter wanes. On the wings of the spring come the geese and the mallards; On the bare oak the red-robin sings, and the crocus peeps up on the prairies, And the bobolink pipes, but he brings of the blue-eyed, brave White Chief no tidings.

With the waning of winter, alas, waned the life of the aged Ta-te-psin; Ere the wild pansies peeped from the gra.s.s, to the Land of the Spirits he journeyed; Like a babe in its slumber he pa.s.sed, or the snow from the hill-tops of April; And the dark-eyed Winona, at last, stood alone by the graves of her kindred.

When their myriad mouths opened the trees to the sweet dew of heaven and the raindrops, And the April showers fell on the leas, on his mound fell the tears of Winona.

Round her drooping form gathered the years and the spirits unseen of her kindred, As low, in the midst of her tears, at the grave of her father she chanted

E-yo-tan-han e-yay-wah-ke-yay!

E-yo-tan-han e-yay-wah-ke-yay!

E-yo-tan-han e-yay-wah-ke-yay!

Ma-kah kin hay-chay-dan tay-han wan-kay.

Tu-way ne ktay snee e-yay-chen e-wah chay.

E-yo-tan-han e-yay-wah-ke-yay!

E-yo-tan-han e-yay-wah-ke-yay!

Ma-kah kin hay-chay-dan tay-han wan-kay.

[TRANSLATION].

Sore is my sorrow!

Sore is my sorrow!

Sore is my sorrow!

The earth alone lasts.

I speak as one dying; Sore is my sorrow!

Sore is my sorrow!

The earth alone lasts.

Still hope, like a star in the night gleaming oft through the broken clouds somber, Cheered the heart of Winona, and bright on her dreams beamed the face of the Frenchman.

As the thought of a loved one and lost, sad and sweet were her thoughts of the White Chief; In the moon's mellow light, like a ghost, walked Winona alone by the _Ha-Ha_, Ever wrapped in a dream. Far away-- to the land of the sunrise--she wandered; On the blue-rolling _Tanka-Mede_[BR]

in the midst of her dreams, she beheld him-- In his white-winged canoe, like a bird, to the land of Dakotas returning,

[BR] Lake Superior,--The Gitchee Gumee of the Chippewas.

And often in fancy she heard the dip of his oars on the river.

On the dark waters glimmered the moon, but she saw not the boat of the Frenchman.