Hiawatha industrial reader

Front matter

Hi 1 1

'twit'

Itw?

Contents

Page

Fishing in the Moon of Ripe Rice . 78

How They Caught the Fish . 78

Part I I

Bv the shores of Gitche Gumee,

By the shining Big-Sea-Water,

Stood the wigwam of Nokomis.

Dark behind it rose the forest,

Rose the black and gloomy pine trees,

Rose the firs with cones upon them;

Bright before it beat the water,

Beat the clear and sunny water,

Beat the shining Big-Sea-Water.

There the wrinkled old Nokomis Nursed the little Hiawatha,

Rocked him in his linden cradle,

Bedded soft in moss and rushes.

Safely bound with reindeer sinews;

Stilled his fretful wail by saying,

“Hush! The Naked Bear will hear thee!”

Lulled him into slumber, singing, “Ewa-yea! my little owlet!

Who is this, that lights the wigwam?

With his great eyes lights the wigwam?

Ewa-yea! my little owlet!”

II

At the door on summer evenings Sat the little Hiawatha;

Heard the whispering of the pine trees, Heard the lapping of the waters,

Sounds of music, words of wonder; “Minne-wawa !” said the pine trees.

“Mudway-aushka!” said the water.

Saw the firefly, Wah-wah-taysee, Flitting through the dusk of evening,

With the twinkle of its candle Lighting up the brakes and bushes,

And he sang the song of children,

Sang the song Nokomis taught him :

“Wah-wah-taysee, little firefly,

Little, flitting, white-fire insect.

Little, dancing, white-fire creature,

Light me with your little candle,

Ere upon my bed I lay me,

Ere in sleep I close my eyelids!”

Saw the rainbow in the heaven,

In the eastern sky, the rainbow, Whispered, ‘‘What is that, Nokomis?’' And the good Nokomis answered:

“ ’Tis the heaven of flowers you see there; All the wild flowers of the forest,

All the lilies of the prairie,

When on earth they fade and perish.

Blossom in that heaven above us.”

IV

When he heard the owls at midnight, Hooting, laughing in the forest,

‘‘What is that?” he cried in terror; “What is that,” he said, “Nokomis?”

And the good Nokomis answered:

“That is but the owl and owlet.

Talking in their native language,

Talking, scolding at each other.”

V

Then the little Hiawatha Learned of every bird its language, Learned their names and all their secrets,

How they built their nests in summer,

Where they hid themselves in winter.

Talked with them whene’er he met them, Called them “Hiawatha’s chickens.”