In the stream he saw a beaver, Saw Ahmeek, the King of Beavers, Struggling with the rushing currents, Without speaking, without pausing, Kwasind leaped into the river, Plunged beneath the bubbling surface, Stayed so long beneath the water, Cried, "Alas! good bye to Kwasind! But he reappeared triumphant, And upon his shining shoulders Brought the beaver, dead and dripping, And these two, as I have told you, Were the friends of Hiawatha, And the very strong man, Kwasind. Long they lived in peace together, Spake with naked hearts together, Pondering much and much contriving How the tribes of men might prosper. 90 VII. HIAWATHA'S SAILING. "GIVE me of your bark, O Birch-Tree! Of your yellow bark, O Birch-Tree! Growing by the rushing river, Tall and stately in the valley! I a light canoe will build me, Like a yellow leaf in Autumn, Like a yellow water-lily! "Lay aside your cloak, O Birch-Tree! Lay aside your white-skin wrapper, For the Summer-time is coming, And the sun is warm in heaven, And you need no white-skin wrapper!" Thus aloud cried Hiawatha In the solitary forest, By the rushing Taquamenaw, When the birds were singing gayly, And the tree with all its branches With his knife the tree he girdled; Just beneath its lowest branches, Till the sap came oozing outward; Sheer he cleft the bark asunder, With a wooden wedge he raised it, "Give me of your boughs, O Cedar! Make more strong and firm beneath me!" Through the summit of the Cedar Went a sound, a cry of horror, Went a murmur of resistance; But it whispered, bending downward, "Take my boughs, O Hiawatha!" Down he hewed the boughs of cedar, Shaped them straightway to a framework, Like two bows he formed and shaped them, Like two bended bows together. "Give me of your roots, O Tamarack! Of your fibrous roots, O Larch-Tree! My canoe to bind together, So to bind the ends together That the water may not enter, |