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XII
Can it be the sun descending
O'er the level plain of
water?
Or the Red Swan floating, flying,
Wounded
by the magic arrow,
Staining all the waves with
crimson,
With the crimson of its life-blood,
Filling all the air with splendor,
With the splendor
of its plumage?
Yes; it is the sun descending,
Sinking down into the water;
All the sky is stained
with purple,
All the water flushed with crimson!
No; it is the Red Swan floating,
Diving down beneath
the water;
To the sky its wings are lifted,
With
its blood the waves are reddened!
Over it the Star of
Evening
Melts and trembles through the purple,
Hangs suspended in the twilight.
No; it is a bead of
wampum
On the robes of the Great Spirit
As he
passes through the twilight,
Walks in silence
through the heavens.
This with joy beheld Iagoo
And he said in haste: "Behold it!
See the sacred
Star of Evening!
You shall hear a tale of wonder,
Hear the story of Osseo,
Son of the Evening
Star, Osseo!
"Once, in days no more remembered,
Ages nearer the beginning,
When the heavens were
closer to us,
And the Gods were more familiar,
In the North-land lived a hunter,
With ten young and
comely daughters,
Tall and lithe as wands of willow;
Only Oweenee, the youngest,
She the wilful and
the wayward,
She the silent, dreamy maiden,
Was
the fairest of the sisters.
"All these women married
warriors,
Married brave and haughty husbands;
Only Oweenee, the youngest,
Laughed and flouted all
her lovers,
All her young and handsome suitors,
And then married old Osseo,
Old Osseo, poor and
ugly,
Broken with age and weak with coughing,
Always coughing like a squirrel.
"Ah, but beautiful
within him
Was the spirit of Osseo,
From the
Evening Star descended,
Star of Evening, Star of
Woman,
Star of tenderness and passion!
All its
fire was in his bosom,
All its beauty in his spirit,
All its mystery in his being,
All its splendor
in his language!
"And her lovers, the rejected,
Handsome men with belts of wampum,
Handsome men with
paint and feathers.
Pointed at her in derision,
Followed her with jest and laughter.
But she said:
'I care not for you,
Care not for your belts of
wampum,
Care not for your paint and feathers,
Care not for your jests and laughter;
I am happy
with Osseo!'
'Once to some great feast invited,
Through the damp and dusk of evening,
Walked
together the ten sisters,
Walked together with their
husbands;
Slowly followed old Osseo,
With fair
Oweenee beside him;
All the others chatted gayly,
These two only walked in silence.
"At the western
sky Osseo
Gazed intent, as if imploring,
Often
stopped and gazed imploring
At the trembling Star of
Evening,
At the tender Star of Woman;
And they
heard him murmur softly,
'Ah, showain nemeshin, Nosa!
Pity, pity me, my father!'
'Listen!' said the
eldest sister,
'He is praying to his father!
What a pity that the old man
Does not stumble in the
pathway,
Does not break his neck by falling!'
And they laughed till all the forest
Rang with their
unseemly laughter.
"On their pathway through the
woodlands
Lay an oak, by storms uprooted,
Lay the
great trunk of an oak-tree,
Buried half in leaves
and mosses,
Mouldering, crumbling, huge and hollow.
And Osseo, when he saw it,
Gave a shout, a cry
of anguish,
Leaped into its yawning cavern,
At
one end went in an old man,
Wasted, wrinkled, old,
and ugly;
From the other came a young man,
Tall
and straight and strong and handsome.
"Thus Osseo was
transfigured,
Thus restored to youth and beauty;
But, alas for good Osseo,
And for Oweenee, the
faithful!
Strangely, too, was she transfigured.
Changed into a weak old woman,
With a staff she
tottered onward,
Wasted, wrinkled, old, and ugly!
And the sisters and their husbands
Laughed until
the echoing forest
Rang with their unseemly
laughter.
"But Osseo turned not from her,
Walked
with slower step beside her,
Took her hand, as brown
and withered
As an oak-leaf is in Winter,
Called
her sweetheart, Nenemoosha,
Soothed her with soft
words of kindness,
Till they reached the lodge of
feasting,
Till they sat down in the wigwam,
Sacred to the Star of Evening,
To the tender Star of
Woman.
"Wrapt in visions, lost in dreaming,
At
the banquet sat Osseo;
All were merry, all were
happy,
All were joyous but Osseo.
Neither food
nor drink he tasted,
Neither did he speak nor
listen;
But as one bewildered sat he,
Looking
dreamily and sadly,
First at Oweenee, then upward
At the gleaming sky above them.
"Then a voice was
heard, a whisper,
Coming from the starry distance,
Coming from the empty vastness,
Low, and
musical, and tender;
And the voice said: 'O Osseo!
O my son, my best beloved!
Broken are the spells
that bound you,
All the charms of the magicians,
All the magic powers of evil;
Come to me; ascend,
Osseo!
"'Taste the food that stands before you:
It
is blessed and enchanted,
It has magic virtues in
it,
It will change you to a spirit.
All your
bowls and all your kettles
Shall be wood and clay no
longer;
But the bowls be changed to wampum,
And
the kettles shall be silver;
They shall shine like
shells of scarlet,
Like the fire shall gleam and
glimmer.
"'And the women shall no longer
Bear the
dreary doom of labor,
But be changed to birds, and
glisten
With the beauty of the starlight,
Painted with the dusky splendors
Of the skies and
clouds of evening!'
"What Osseo heard as whispers,
What as words he comprehended,
Was but music to
the others,
Music as of birds afar off,
Of the
whippoorwill afar off,
Of the lonely Wawonaissa
Singing in the darksome forest.
"Then the lodge began
to tremble,
Straight began to shake and tremble,
And they felt it rising, rising,
Slowly through the
air ascending,
From the darkness of the tree-tops
Forth into the dewy starlight,
Till it passed the
topmost branches;
And behold! the wooden dishes
All were changed to shells of scarlet!
And behold!
the earthen kettles
All were changed to bowls of
silver!
And the roof-poles of the wigwam
Were as
glittering rods of silver,
And the roof of bark upon
them
As the shining shards of beetles.
"Then Osseo
gazed around him,
And he saw the nine fair sisters,
All the sisters and their husbands,
Changed to birds
of various plumage.
Some were jays and some were
magpies,
Others thrushes, others blackbirds;
And
they hopped, and sang, and twittered,
Perked and
fluttered all their feathers,
Strutted in their
shining plumage,
And their tails like fans unfolded.
"Only Oweenee, the youngest,
Was not changed, but sat
in silence,
Wasted, wrinkled, old, and ugly,
Looking sadly at the others;
Till Osseo, gazing
upward,
Gave another cry of anguish,
Such a cry as
he had uttered
By the oak-tree in the forest.
"Then returned her youth and beauty,
And her soiled
and tattered garments
Were transformed to robes of
ermine,
And her staff became a feather,
Yes, a
shining silver feather!
"And again the wigwam
trembled,
Swayed and rushed through airy currents,
Through transparent cloud and vapor,
And amid
celestial splendors
On the Evening Star alighted,
As a snow-flake falls on snow-flake,
As a leaf drops
on a river,
As the thistledown on water.
"Forth
with cheerful words of welcome
Came the father of
Osseo,
He with radiant locks of silver,
He with
eyes serene and tender.
And he said: `My son, Osseo,
Hang the cage of birds you bring there,
Hang the cage
with rods of silver,
And the birds with glistening
feathers,
At the doorway of my wigwam.'
"At the
door he hung the bird-cage,
And they entered in and
gladly
Listened to Osseo's father,
Ruler of the
Star of Evening,
As he said: `O my Osseo!
I have
had compassion on you,
Given you back your youth and
beauty,
Into birds of various plumage
Changed your
sisters and their husbands;
Changed them thus because
they mocked you
In the figure of the old man,
In
that aspect sad and wrinkled,
Could not see your
heart of passion,
Could not see your youth immortal;
Only Oweenee, the faithful,
Saw your naked heart and
loved you.
"`In the lodge that glimmers yonder,
In
the little star that twinkles
Through the vapors, on
the left hand,
Lives the envious Evil Spirit,
The
Wabeno, the magician,
Who transformed you to an old
man.
Take heed lest his beams fall on you,
For the
rays he darts around him
Are the power of his
enchantment,
Are the arrows that he uses.'
"Many
years, in peace and quiet,
On the peaceful Star of
Evening
Dwelt Osseo with his father;
Many years,
in song and flutter,
At the doorway of the wigwam,
Hung the cage with rods of silver,
And fair Oweenee,
the faithful,
Bore a son unto Osseo,
With the
beauty of his mother,
With the courage of his father.
"And the boy grew up and prospered,
And Osseo, to
delight him,
Made him little bows and arrows,
Opened the great cage of silver,
And let loose his
aunts and uncles,
All those birds with glossy
feathers,
For his little son to shoot at.
"Round
and round they wheeled and darted,
Filled the Evening
Star with music,
With their songs of joy and freedom
Filled the Evening Star with splendor,
With the
fluttering of their plumage;
Till the boy, the little
hunter,
Bent his bow and shot an arrow,
Shot a
swift and fatal arrow,
And a bird, with shining
feathers,
At his feet fell wounded sorely.
"But, O
wondrous transformation!
`T was no bird he saw before
him,
`T was a beautiful young woman,
With the
arrow in her bosom!
"When her blood fell on the
planet,
On the sacred Star of Evening,
Broken was
the spell of magic,
Powerless was the strange
enchantment,
And the youth, the fearless bowman,
Suddenly felt himself descending,
Held by unseen
hands, but sinking
Downward through the empty spaces,
Downward through the clouds and vapors,
Till he
rested on an island,
On an island, green and grassy,
Yonder in the Big-Sea-Water.
"After him he saw
descending
All the birds with shining feathers,
Fluttering, falling, wafted downward,
Like the
painted leaves of Autumn;
And the lodge with poles of
silver,
With its roof like wings of beetles,
Like
the shining shards of beetles,
By the winds of heaven
uplifted,
Slowly sank upon the island,
Bringing
back the good Osseo,
Bringing Oweenee, the faithful.
"Then the birds, again transfigured,
Reassumed the
shape of mortals,
Took their shape, but not their
stature;
They remained as Little People,
Like the
pygmies, the Puk-Wudjies,
And on pleasant nights of
Summer,
When the Evening Star was shining,
Hand in
hand they danced together
On the island's craggy
headlands,
On the sand-beach low and level.
"Still
their glittering lodge is seen there,
On the tranquil
Summer evenings,
And upon the shore the fisher
Sometimes hears their happy voices,
Sees them dancing
in the starlight !"
When the story was completed,
When the wondrous tale was ended,
Looking round upon
his listeners,
Solemnly Iagoo added:
"There are
great men, I have known such,
Whom their people
understand not,
Whom they even make a jest of,
Scoff and jeer at in derision.
From the story of
Osseo
Let us learn the fate of jesters!"
All the
wedding guests delighted
Listened to the marvellous
story,
Listened laughing and applauding,
And they
whispered to each other:
"Does he mean himself, I
wonder?
And are we the aunts and uncles?"
Then
again sang Chibiabos,
Sang a song of love and
longing,
In those accents sweet and tender,
In
those tones of pensive sadness,
Sang a maiden's
lamentation
For her lover, her Algonquin.
"When I
think of my beloved,
Ah me! think of my beloved,
When my heart is thinking of him,
O my sweetheart, my
Algonquin!
"Ah me! when I parted from him,
Round
my neck he hung the wampum,
As a pledge, the
snow-white wampum,
O my sweetheart, my Algonquin!
"`I will go with you, he whispered,
Ah me! to your
native country;
Let me go with you, he whispered,
O my sweetheart, my Algonquin!
"Far away, away, I
answered,
Very far away, I answered,
Ah me! is my
native country,
O my sweetheart, my Algonquin!
"When I looked back to behold him,
Where we parted,
to behold him,
After me he still was gazing,
O my
sweetheart, my Algonquin!
"By the tree he still was
standing,
By the fallen tree was standing,
That
had dropped into the water,
O my sweetheart, my
Algonquin!
"When I think of my beloved,
Ah me!
think of my beloved,
When my heart is thinking of
him,
O my sweetheart, my Algonquin!"
Such was
Hiawatha's Wedding,
Such the dance of Pau-Puk-Keewis,
Such the story of Iagoo,
Such the songs of Chibiabos;
Thus the wedding banquet ended,
And the wedding
guests departed,
Leaving Hiawatha happy
With the
night and Minnehaha.
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