Part I: The Peace-Pipe
- On the Mountains of the Prairie,
- On the great Red Pipe-stone Quarry,
- Gitche Manito, the mighty,
- He the Master of Life, descending,
- On the red crags of the quarry
- Stood erect, and called the nations,
- Called the tribes of men together.
- From his footprints flowed a river,
- Leaped into the light of morning,
- O'er the precipice plunging downward
- Gleamed like Ishkoodah, the comet.
- And the Spirit, stooping earthward,
- With his finger on the meadow
- Traced a winding pathway for it,
- Saying to it, "Run in this way!"
- From the red stone of the quarry
- With his hand he broke a fragment,
- Moulded it into a pipe-head,
- Shaped and fashioned it with figures;
- From the margin of the river
- Took a long reed for a pipe-stem,
- With its dark green leaves upon it;
- Filled the pipe with bark of willow,
- With the bark of the red willow;
- Breathed upon the neighboring forest,
- Made its great boughs chafe together,
- Till in flame they burst and kindled;
- And erect upon the mountains,
- Gitche Manito, the mighty,
- Smoked the calumet, the Peace-Pipe,
- As a signal to the nations.
- And the smoke rose slowly, slowly,
- Through the tranquil air of morning,
- First a single line of darkness,
- Then a denser, bluer vapor,
- Then a snow-white cloud unfolding,
- Like the tree-tops of the forest,
- Ever rising, rising, rising,
- Till it touched the top of heaven,
- Till it broke against the heaven,
- And rolled outward all around it.
- From the Vale of Tawasentha,
- From the Valley of Wyoming,
- From the groves of Tuscaloosa,
- From the far-off Rocky Mountains,
- From the Northern lakes and rivers
- All the tribes beheld the signal,
- Saw the distant smoke ascending,
- The Pukwana of the Peace-Pipe.
- And the Prophets of the nations
- Said: "Behold it, the Pukwana!
- By the signal of the Peace-Pipe,
- Bending like a wand of willow,
- Waving like a hand that beckons,
- Gitche Manito, the mighty,
- Calls the tribes of men together,
- Calls the warriors to his council!"
- Down the rivers, o'er the prairies,
- Came the warriors of the nations,
- Came the Delawares and Mohawks,
- Came the Choctaws and Camanches,
- Came the Shoshonies and Blackfeet,
- Came the Pawnees and Omahas,
- Came the Mandans and Dacotahs,
- Came the Hurons and Ojibways,
- All the warriors drawn together
- By the signal of the Peace-Pipe,
- To the Mountains of the Prairie,
- To the great Red Pipe-stone Quarry,
- And they stood there on the meadow,
- With their weapons and their war-gear,
- Painted like the leaves of Autumn,
- Painted like the sky of morning,
- Wildly glaring at each other;
- In their faces stem defiance,
- In their hearts the feuds of ages,
- The hereditary hatred,
- The ancestral thirst of vengeance.
- Gitche Manito, the mighty,
- The creator of the nations,
- Looked upon them with compassion,
- With paternal love and pity;
- Looked upon their wrath and wrangling
- But as quarrels among children,
- But as feuds and fights of children!
- Over them he stretched his right hand,
- To subdue their stubborn natures,
- To allay their thirst and fever,
- By the shadow of his right hand;
- Spake to them with voice majestic
- As the sound of far-off waters,
- Falling into deep abysses,
- Warning, chiding, spake in this wise :
- "O my children! my poor children!
- Listen to the words of wisdom,
- Listen to the words of warning,
- From the lips of the Great Spirit,
- From the Master of Life, who made you!
- "I have given you lands to hunt in,
- I have given you streams to fish in,
- I have given you bear and bison,
- I have given you roe and reindeer,
- I have given you brant and beaver,
- Filled the marshes full of wild-fowl,
- Filled the rivers full of fishes:
- Why then are you not contented?
- Why then will you hunt each other?
- "I am weary of your quarrels,
- Weary of your wars and bloodshed,
- Weary of your prayers for vengeance,
- Of your wranglings and dissensions;
- All your strength is in your union,
- All your danger is in discord;
- Therefore be at peace henceforward,
- And as brothers live together.
- "I will send a Prophet to you,
- A Deliverer of the nations,
- Who shall guide you and shall teach you,
- Who shall toil and suffer with you.
- If you listen to his counsels,
- You will multiply and prosper;
- If his warnings pass unheeded,
- You will fade away and perish!
- "Bathe now in the stream before you,
- Wash the war-paint from your faces,
- Wash the blood-stains from your fingers,
- Bury your war-clubs and your weapons,
- Break the red stone from this quarry,
- Mould and make it into Peace-Pipes,
- Take the reeds that grow beside you,
- Deck them with your brightest feathers,
- Smoke the calumet together,
- And as brothers live henceforward!"
- Then upon the ground the warriors
- Threw their cloaks and shirts of deer-skin,
- Threw their weapons and their war-gear,
- Leaped into the rushing river,
- Washed the war-paint from their faces.
- Clear above them flowed the water,
- Clear and limpid from the footprints
- Of the Master of Life descending;
- Dark below them flowed the water,
- Soiled and stained with streaks of crimson,
- As if blood were mingled with it!
- From the river came the warriors,
- Clean and washed from all their war-paint;
- On the banks their clubs they buried,
- Buried all their warlike weapons.
- Gitche Manito, the mighty,
- The Great Spirit, the creator,
- Smiled upon his helpless children!
- And in silence all the warriors
- Broke the red stone of the quarry,
- Smoothed and formed it into Peace-Pipes,
- Broke the long reeds by the river,
- Decked them with their brightest feathers,
- And departed each one homeward,
- While the Master of Life, ascending,
- Through the opening of cloud-curtains,
- Through the doorways of the heaven,
- Vanished from before their faces,
- In the smoke that rolled around him,
- The Pukwana of the Peace-Pipe!
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