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Longfellow Henry Wadsworth
«The Song of Hiawatha»

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sand-bars."Straight into the river KwasindPlunged as if he were an otter,Dived as if he were a beaver,Stood up to his waist in water,To his arm-pits in the river,Swam and scouted in the river,Tugged at sunken logs and branches,With his hands he scooped the sand-bars,With his feet the ooze and tangle.And thus sailed my HiawathaDown the rushing Taquamenaw,Sailed through all its bends and windings,Sailed through all its deeps and shallows,While his friend, the strong man, Kwasind,Swam the deeps, the shallows waded.Up and down the river went they,In and out among its islands,Cleared its bed of root and sand-bar,Dragged the dead trees from its channel,Made its passage safe and certain,Made a pathway for the people,From its springs among the mountains,To the waters of Pauwating,To the bay of Taquamenaw.

VIII



Hiawatha's Fishing




Forth upon the Gitche Gumee,On the shining Big-Sea-Water,With his fishing-line of cedar,Of the twisted bark of cedar,Forth to catch the sturgeon Nahma,Mishe-Nahma, King of Fishes,In his birch canoe exultingAll alone went Hiawatha.Through the clear, transparent waterHe could see the fishes swimmingFar down in the depths below him;See the yellow perch, the Sahwa,Like a sunbeam in the water,See the Shawgashee, the craw-fish,Like a spider on the bottom,On the white and sandy bottom.At the stern sat Hiawatha,With his fishing-line of cedar;In his plumes the breeze of morningPlayed as in the hemlock branches;On the bows, with tail erected,Sat the squirrel, Adjidaumo;In his fur the breeze of morningPlayed as in the prairie grasses.On the white sand of the bottomLay the monster Mishe-Nahma,Lay the sturgeon, King of Fishes;Through his gills he breathed the water,With his fins he fanned and winnowed,With his tail he swept the sand-floor.There he lay in all his armor;On each side a shield to guard him,Plates of bone upon his forehead,Down his sides and back and shouldersPlates of bone with spines projectingPainted was he
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