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Never stoops the soaring vulture
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On his quarry in the desert,
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On the sick or wounded bison,
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But another vulture, watching
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From his high aerial look-out,
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Sees the downward plunge, and follows;
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And a third pursues the second,
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Coming from the invisible ether,
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First a speck, and then a vulture,
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Till the air is dark with pinions.
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So disasters come not singly;
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But as if they watched and waited,
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Scanning one another's motions,
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When the first descends, the others
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Follow, follow, gathering flock-wise
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Round their victim, sick and wounded,
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First a shadow, then a sorrow,
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Till the air is dark with anguish.
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Now, o'er all the dreary North-land,
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Mighty Peboan, the Winter,
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Breathing on the lakes and rivers,
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Into stone had changed their waters.
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From his hair he shook the snow-flakes,
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Till the plains were strewn with whiteness,
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One uninterrupted level,
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As if, stooping, the Creator
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With his hand had smoothed them over.
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Through the forest, wide and wailing,
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Roamed the hunter on his snow-shoes;
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In the village worked the women,
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Pounded maize, or dressed the deer-skin;
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And the young men played together
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On the ice the noisy ball-play,
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On the plain the dance of snow-shoes.
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One dark evening, after sundown,
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In her wigwam Laughing Water
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Sat with old Nokomis, waiting
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For the steps of Hiawatha
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Homeward from the hunt returning.
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On their faces gleamed the firelight,
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Painting them with streaks of crimson,
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In the eyes of old Nokomis
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Glimmered like the watery moonlight,
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In the eyes of Laughing Water
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Glistened like the sun in water;
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And behind them crouched their shadows
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In the corners of the wigwam,
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And the smoke in wreaths above them
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Climbed and crowded through the smoke-flue.
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Then the curtain of the doorway
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From without was slowly lifted;
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Brighter glowed the fire a moment,
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And a moment swerved the smoke-wreath,
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As two women entered softly,
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Passed the doorway uninvited,
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Without word of salutation,
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Without sign of recognition,
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Sat down in the farthest corner,
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Crouching low among the shadows.
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From their aspect and their garments,
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Strangers seemed they in the village;
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Very pale and haggard were they,
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As they sat there sad and silent,
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Trembling, cowering with the shadows.
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Was it the wind above the smoke-flue,
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Muttering down into the wigwam?
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Was it the owl, the Koko-koho,
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Hooting from the dismal forest?
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Sure a voice said in the silence:
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"These are corpses clad in garments,
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These are ghosts that come to haunt you,
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From the kingdom of Ponemah,
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From the land of the Hereafter!"
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Homeward now came Hiawatha
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From his hunting in the forest,
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With the snow upon his tresses,
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And the red deer on his shoulders.
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At the feet of Laughing Water
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Down he threw his lifeless burden;
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Nobler, handsomer she thought him,
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Than when first he came to woo her,
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First threw down the deer before her,
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As a token of his wishes,
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As a promise of the future.
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Then he turned and saw the strangers,
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Cowering, crouching with the shadows;
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Said within himself, "Who are they?
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What strange guests has Minnehaha?"
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But he questioned not the strangers,
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Only spake to bid them welcome
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To his lodge, his food, his fireside.
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When the evening meal was ready,
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And the deer had been divided,
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Both the pallid guests, the strangers,
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Springing from among the shadows,
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Seized upon the choicest portions,
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Seized the white fat of the roebuck,
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Set apart for Laughing Water,
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For the wife of Hiawatha;
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Without asking, without thanking,
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Eagerly devoured the morsels,
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Flitted back among the shadows
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In the corner of the wigwam.
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Not a word spake Hiawatha,
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Not a motion made Nokomis,
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Not a gesture Laughing Water;
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Not a change came o'er their features;
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Only Minnehaha softly
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Whispered, saying, "They are famished;
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Let them do what best delights them;
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Let them eat, for they are famished."
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Many a daylight dawned and darkened,
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Many a night shook off the daylight
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As the pine shakes off the snow-flakes
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From the midnight of its branches;
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Day by day the guests unmoving
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Sat there silent in the wigwam;
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But by night, in storm or starlight,
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Forth they went into the forest,
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Bringing fire-wood to the wigwam,
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Bringing pine-cones for the burning,
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Always sad and always silent.
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And whenever Hiawatha
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Came from fishing or from hunting,
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When the evening meal was ready,
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And the food had been divided,
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Gliding from their darksome corner,
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Came the pallid guests, the strangers,
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Seized upon the choicest portions
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Set aside for Laughing Water,
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And without rebuke or question
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Flitted back among the shadows.
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Never once had Hiawatha
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By a word or look reproved them;
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Never once had old Nokomis
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Made a gesture of impatience;
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Never once had Laughing Water
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Shown resentment at the outrage.
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All had they endured in silence,
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That the rights of guest and stranger,
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That the virtue of free-giving,
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By a look might not be lessened,
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By a word might not be broken.
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Once at midnight Hiawatha,
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Ever wakeful, ever watchful,
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In the wigwam, dimly lighted
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By the brands that still were burning,
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By the glimmering, flickering firelight
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Heard a sighing, oft repeated,
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Heard a sobbing, as of sorrow.
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From his couch rose Hiawatha,
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From his shaggy hides of bison,
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Pushed aside the deer-skin curtain,
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Saw the pallid guests, the shadows,
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Sitting upright on their couches,
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Weeping in the silent midnight.
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And he said: "O guests! why is it
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That your hearts are so afflicted,
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That you sob so in the midnight?
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Has perchance the old Nokomis,
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Has my wife, my Minnehaha,
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Wronged or grieved you by unkindness,
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Failed in hospitable duties?"
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Then the shadows ceased from weeping,
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Ceased from sobbing and lamenting,
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And they said, with gentle voices:
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"We are ghosts of the departed,
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Souls of those who once were with you.
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From the realms of Chibiabos
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Hither have we come to try you,
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Hither have we come to warn you.
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"Cries of grief and lamentation
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Reach us in the Blessed Islands;
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Cries of anguish from the living,
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Calling back their friends departed,
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Sadden us with useless sorrow.
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Therefore have we come to try you;
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No one knows us, no one heeds us.
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We are but a burden to you,
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And we see that the departed
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Have no place among the living.
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"Think of this, O Hiawatha!
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Speak of it to all the people,
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That henceforward and forever
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They no more with lamentations
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Sadden the souls of the departed
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In the Islands of the Blessed.
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"Do not lay such heavy burdens
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In the graves of those you bury,
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Not such weight of furs and wampum,
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Not such weight of pots and kettles,
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For the spirits faint beneath them.
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Only give them food to carry,
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Only give them fire to light them.
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"Four days is the spirit's journey
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To the land of ghosts and shadows,
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Four its lonely night encampments;
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Four times must their fires be lighted.
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Therefore, when the dead are buried,
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Let a fire, as night approaches,
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Four times on the grave be kindled,
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That the soul upon its journey
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May not lack the cheerful firelight,
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May not grope about in darkness.
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"Farewell, noble Hiawatha!
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We have put you to the trial,
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To the proof have put your patience,
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By the insult of our presence,
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By the outrage of our actions.
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We have found you great and noble.
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Fail not in the greater trial,
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Faint not in the harder struggle."
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When they ceased, a sudden darkness
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Fell and filled the silent wigwam.
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Hiawatha heard a rustle
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As of garments trailing by him,
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Heard the curtain of the doorway
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Lifted by a hand he saw not,
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Felt the cold breath of the night air,
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For a moment saw the starlight;
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But he saw the ghosts no longer,
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Saw no more the wandering spirits
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From the kingdom of Ponemah,
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