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