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Forth upon the Gitche Gumee,
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On the shining Big-Sea-Water,
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With his fishing-line of cedar,
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Of the twisted bark of cedar,
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Forth to catch the sturgeon Nahma,
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Mishe-Nahma, King of Fishes,
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In his birch canoe exulting
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All alone went Hiawatha.
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Through the clear, transparent water
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He could see the fishes swimming
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Far down in the depths below him;
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See the yellow perch, the Sahwa,
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Like a sunbeam in the water,
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See the Shawgashee, the craw-fish,
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Like a spider on the bottom,
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On the white and sandy bottom.
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At the stern sat Hiawatha,
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With his fishing-line of cedar;
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In his plumes the breeze of morning
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Played as in the hemlock branches;
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On the bows, with tail erected,
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Sat the squirrel, Adjidaumo;
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In his fur the breeze of morning
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Played as in the prairie grasses.
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On the white sand of the bottom
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Lay the monster Mishe-Nahma,
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Lay the sturgeon, King of Fishes;
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Through his gills he breathed the water,
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With his fins he fanned and winnowed,
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With his tail he swept the sand-floor.
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There he lay in all his armor;
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On each side a shield to guard him,
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Plates of bone upon his forehead,
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Down his sides and back and shoulders
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Plates of bone with spines projecting!
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Painted was he with his war-paints,
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Stripes of yellow, red, and azure,
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Spots of brown and spots of sable;
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And he lay there on the bottom,
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Fanning with his fins of purple,
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In his birch canoe came sailing,
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With his fishing-line of cedar.
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"Take my bait," cried Hiawatha,
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Down into the depths beneath him,
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"Take my bait, O Sturgeon, Nahma!
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Come up from below the water,
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Let us see which is the stronger!"
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And he dropped his line of cedar
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Through the clear, transparent water,
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Waited vainly for an answer,
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Long sat waiting for an answer,
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And repeating loud and louder,
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"Take my bait, O King of Fishes!"
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Quiet lay the sturgeon, Nahma,
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Fanning slowly in the water,
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Looking up at Hiawatha,
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Listening to his call and clamor,
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His unnecessary tumult,
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Till he wearied of the shouting;
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And he said to the Kenozha,
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To the pike, the Maskenozha,
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"Take the bait of this rude fellow,
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Break the line of Hiawatha!"
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In his fingers Hiawatha
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Felt the loose line jerk and tighten;
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As he drew it in, it tugged so
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That the birch canoe stood endwise,
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Like a birch log in the water,
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With the squirrel, Adjidaumo,
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Perched and frisking on the summit.
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Full of scorn was Hiawatha
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When he saw the fish rise upward,
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Saw the pike, the Maskenozha,
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Coming nearer, nearer to him,
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And he shouted through the water,
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"Esa! esa! shame upon you!
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You are but the pike, Kenozha,
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You are not the fish I wanted,
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You are not the King of Fishes!"
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Reeling downward to the bottom
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Sank the pike in great confusion,
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And the mighty sturgeon, Nahma,
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Said to Ugudwash, the sun-fish,
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To the bream, with scales of crimson,
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"Take the bait of this great boaster,
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Break the line of Hiawatha!"
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Slowly upward, wavering, gleaming,
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Rose the Ugudwash, the sun-fish,
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Seized the line of Hiawatha,
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Swung with all his weight upon it,
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Made a whirlpool in the water,
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Whirled the birch canoe in circles,
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Round and round in gurgling eddies,
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Till the circles in the water
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Reached the far-off sandy beaches,
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Till the water-flags and rushes
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Nodded on the distant margins.
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But when Hiawatha saw him
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Slowly rising through the water,
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Lifting up his disk refulgent,
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Loud he shouted in derision,
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"Esa! esa! shame upon you!
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You are Ugudwash, the sun-fish,
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You are not the fish I wanted,
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You are not the King of Fishes!"
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Slowly downward, wavering, gleaming,
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Sank the Ugudwash, the sun-fish,
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And again the sturgeon, Nahma,
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Heard the shout of Hiawatha,
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Heard his challenge of defiance,
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The unnecessary tumult,
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Ringing far across the water.
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From the white sand of the bottom
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Up he rose with angry gesture,
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Quivering in each nerve and fibre,
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Clashing all his plates of armor,
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Gleaming bright with all his war-paint;
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In his wrath he darted upward,
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Flashing leaped into the sunshine,
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Opened his great jaws, and swallowed
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Both canoe and Hiawatha.
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Down into that darksome cavern
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Plunged the headlong Hiawatha,
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As a log on some black river
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Shoots and plunges down the rapids,
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Found himself in utter darkness,
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Groped about in helpless wonder,
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Till he felt a great heart beating,
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Throbbing in that utter darkness.
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And he smote it in his anger,
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With his fist, the heart of Nahma,
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Felt the mighty King of Fishes
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Shudder through each nerve and fibre,
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Heard the water gurgle round him
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As he leaped and staggered through it,
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Sick at heart, and faint and weary.
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Crosswise then did Hiawatha
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Drag his birch-canoe for safety,
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Lest from out the jaws of Nahma,
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In the turmoil and confusion,
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Forth he might be hurled and perish.
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And the squirrel, Adjidaumo,
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Frisked and chatted very gayly,
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Toiled and tugged with Hiawatha
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Till the labor was completed.
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Then said Hiawatha to him,
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"O my little friend, the squirrel,
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Bravely have you toiled to help me;
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Take the thanks of Hiawatha,
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And the name which now he gives you;
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For hereafter and forever
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Boys shall call you Adjidaumo,
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Tail-in-air the boys shall call you!"
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And again the sturgeon, Nahma,
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Gasped and quivered in the water,
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Then was still, and drifted landward
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Till he grated on the pebbles,
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Till the listening Hiawatha
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Heard him grate upon the margin,
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Felt him strand upon the pebbles,
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Knew that Nahma, King of Fishes,
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Lay there dead upon the margin.
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Then he heard a clang and flapping,
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As of many wings assembling,
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Heard a screaming and confusion,
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As of birds of prey contending,
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Saw a gleam of light above him,
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Shining through the ribs of Nahma,
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Saw the glittering eyes of sea-gulls,
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Of Kayoshk, the sea-gulls, peering,
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Gazing at him through the opening,
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Heard them saying to each other,
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"'T is our brother, Hiawatha!"
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And he shouted from below them,
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Cried exulting from the caverns:
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"O ye sea-gulls! O my brothers!
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I have slain the sturgeon, Nahma;
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Make the rifts a little larger,
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With your claws the openings widen,
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Set me free from this dark prison,
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And henceforward and forever
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Men shall speak of your achievements,
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Calling you Kayoshk, the sea-gulls,
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Yes, Kayoshk, the Noble Scratchers!"
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And the wild and clamorous sea-gulls
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Toiled with beak and claws together,
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Made the rifts and openings wider
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In the mighty ribs of Nahma,
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And from peril and from prison,
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From the body of the sturgeon,
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From the peril of the water,
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They released my Hiawatha.
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He was standing near his wigwam,
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On the margin of the water,
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And he called to old Nokomis,
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Called and beckoned to Nokomis,
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Pointed to the sturgeon, Nahma,
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Lying lifeless on the pebbles,
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With the sea-gulls feeding on him.
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"I have slain the Mishe-Nahma,
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Slain the King of Fishes!" said he;
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"Look! the sea-gulls feed upon him,
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Yes, my friends Kayoshk, the sea-gulls;
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Drive them not away, Nokomis,
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They have saved me from great peril
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In the body of the sturgeon,
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Wait until their meal is ended,
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Till their craws are full with feasting,
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Till they homeward fly, at sunset,
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To their nests among the marshes;
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Then bring all your pots and kettles,
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And make oil for us in Winter."
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And she waited till the sun set,
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Till the pallid moon, the Night-sun,
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Rose above the tranquil water,
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Till Kayoshk, the sated sea-gulls,
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From their banquet rose with clamor,
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And across the fiery sunset
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Winged their way to far-off islands,
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To their nests among the rushes.
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To his sleep went Hiawatha,
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And Nokomis to her labor,
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Toiling patient in the moonlight,
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Till the sun and moon changed places,
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Till the sky was red with sunrise,
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And Kayoshk, the hungry sea-gulls,
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Came back from the reedy islands,
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Clamorous for their morning banquet.
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Three whole days and nights alternate
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Old Nokomis and the sea-gulls
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Stripped the oily flesh of Nahma,
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Till the waves washed through the rib-bones,
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Till the sea-gulls came no longer,
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And upon the sands lay nothing
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