The Elson Readers Part 42

Slowly, from the ashes, Kwasind Rose, but made no angry answer; From the lodge went forth in silence, Took the nets, that hung together, Dripping, freezing at the doorway; Like a wisp of straw he wrung them, Like a wisp of straw he broke them, Could not wring them without breaking, Such the strength was in his fingers.

"Lazy Kwasind!" said his father, "In the hunt you never help me; Every bow you touch is broken, Snapped asunder every arrow; Yet come with me to the forest, You shall bring the hunting homeward."

Down a narrow pa.s.s they wandered, Where a brooklet led them onward, Where the trail of deer and bison Marked the soft mud on the margin, Till they found all further pa.s.sage Shut against them, barred securely By the trunks of trees uprooted, Lying lengthwise, lying crosswise, And forbidding further pa.s.sage.

"We must go back," said the old man; "O'er these logs we cannot clamber; Not a woodchuck could get through them, Not a squirrel clamber o'er them!"

And straightway his pipe he lighted, And sat down to smoke and ponder.

But before his pipe was finished, Lo! the path was cleared before him; All the trunks had Kwasind lifted; To the right hand, to the left hand, Shot the pine-trees swift as arrows; Hurled the cedars light as lances.

"Lazy Kwasind!" said the young men, As they sported in the meadow; "Why stand idly looking at us, Leaning on the rock behind you?

Come and wrestle with the others; Let us pitch the quoit together!"

Lazy Kwasind made no answer, To their challenge made no answer, Only rose, and, slowly turning, Seized the huge rock in his fingers, Tore it from its deep foundation, Poised it in the air a moment, Pitched it sheer into the river, Sheer into the swift Pauwating, Where it still is seen in summer.

Once as down that foaming river, Down the rapids of Pauwating, Kwasind sailed with his companions, In the stream he saw a beaver, Saw Ahmeek, the King of Beavers, Struggling with the rus.h.i.+ng currents, Rising, sinking in the water.

Without speaking, without pausing, Kwasind leaped into the river, Plunged beneath the bubbling surface, Through the whirlpools chased the beaver, Followed him among the islands, Stayed so long beneath the water That his terrified companions Cried, "Alas! good-by to Kwasind!

We shall never more see Kwasind!"

But he reappeared triumphant, And upon his s.h.i.+ning shoulders Brought the beaver, dead and dripping, Brought the King of all the Beavers.

And these two, as I have told you, Were the friends of Hiawatha, Chibiabos, the musician, And the very strong man, Kwasind; Long they lived in peace together, Spake with naked hearts together, Pondering much and much contriving How the tribes of men might prosper.

NOTES AND QUESTIONS

Discussion. 1. What two friends had Hiawatha "Singled out from all the others"? 2. What were they "contriving"? 3. Read lines that tell of Chibiabos. 4. With what is he compared? Read lines that tell. 5. From what did he make his flutes? 6. Read lines that tell how musical they were. 7. What did the brook say to Chibiabos? The bluebird? The robin?

8. Of what did Chibiabos sing? 9. Why did Hiawatha love him more than all others? 10. For what did Hiawatha love Kwasind? 11. What did Kwasind's mother say to him? His father? 12. What is meant by the line, "Every bow you touch is broken"? 13. Read lines that tell of Kwasind and the beaver. 14. Which of Hiawatha's two friends do you like the better? Why? 15. Find in the Glossary the meaning of: reeds; frenzy; listless; cowering; clamber; ponder; sported. 16. p.r.o.nounce: pliant; wand; pathos; allied; asunder; quoit; triumphant.

Phrases for Study

singled out, strength allied to goodness, bound to him, bring the hunting homeward, pliant as a wand, stirred their souls to pa.s.sion, forbidding further pa.s.sage, poised it in the air, melted them to pity, sheer into the river, fas.h.i.+oned flutes, s.h.i.+ning shoulders, flow in music, spake with naked hearts, Islands of the Blessed, pondering much, magic of his singing, much contriving.

HIAWATHA'S SAILING

"Give me of your bark, O Birch-Tree!

Of your yellow bark, O Birch Tree!

Growing by the rus.h.i.+ng river, Tall and stately in the valley!

I a light canoe will build me, 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!

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.

And the tree with all its branches Rustled in the breeze of morning, Saying, with a sigh of patience, "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; 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!

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, 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 framework; 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, 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 fibers, s.h.i.+vered in the air of morning, Touched his forehead with its ta.s.sels, Said, with one long sigh of sorrow, "Take them all, O Hiawatha!"

From the earth he tore the fibers, Tore the tough roots of the Larch-Tree, Closely sewed the bark together, Bound it closely to the framework.

"Give me of your balm, O Fir-Tree!

Of your balsam and your resin, So to close the seams together That the water may not enter, That the river may not wet me!"

And the Fir-Tree, tall and somber, Sobbed through all its robes of darkness, Rattled like a sh.o.r.e with pebbles, Answered wailing, answered weeping, "Take my balm, 0 Hiawatha!"

And he took the tears of balsam, Took the resin of the Fir-Tree, Smeared therewith each seam and fissure, 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, And two stars to deck her bosom!"

From a hollow tree the hedgehog, With his sleepy eyes looked at him, Shot his s.h.i.+ning quills, like arrows Saying, with a drowsy murmur, Through the tangle of his whiskers, "Take my quills, O Hiawatha!"

From the ground the quills he gathered, All the little s.h.i.+ning arrows; Stained them red and blue and yellow, With the juice of roots and berries; Into his canoe he wrought them, Round its waist a s.h.i.+ning girdle, Round its bows a gleaming necklace, On its breast two stars resplendent.

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, 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, 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; 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 Of its sunken logs and sandbars."

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, To his armpits in the river, Swam and shouted in the river, Tugged at sunken logs and branches; With his hands he scooped the sandbars, With his feet the ooze and tangle.

And thus sailed my Hiawatha Down the rus.h.i.+ng Taquamenaw, Sailed through all its bends and windings, Sailed through all its deeps and shallows, While his friend, the strong man, Kwasind, 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 sandbar, Dragged the dead trees from its channel, Made its pa.s.sage 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.

NOTES AND QUESTIONS

Discussion. 1. Of what did Hiawatha make his canoe? 2. Why does Hiawatha call the bark of the birch-tree a cloak? 3. What other name does he give the bark of the birch-tree? 4. What word tells the sound made by the leaves of the birch-tree? 5. What word tells that Hiawatha cut all around the birch-tree? 6. Why did Hiawatha ask the cedar tree for its boughs? 7. Read lines that tell why he asked the larch-tree for its roots. S. What other name does he give the larch tree? 9. Why does Hiawatha call the drops of balsam "tears"? 10. Can the hedgehog really shoot his quills "like arrows"? 11. What is meant by "my beauty"? 12. Read lines that tell how Hiawatha decorated his canoe.

13. What did he use for paddles for the canoe? 14. What did Kwasind do to aid the canoeing? 15. Why is the fir-tree spoken of as "somber"?

16. Find in the Glossary the meaning of: stately; larch; channel. 17.

p.r.o.nounce: horror; hewed; tamarack; fibrous; forehead; balm; balsam; resin; fissure; crevice; bosom; resplendent; supple; veered; swam.