Part XVII: The Hunting of Pau-Puk-Keewis
- Full of wrath was Hiawatha
- When he came into the village,
- Found the people in confusion,
- Heard of all the misdemeanors,
- All the malice and the mischief,
- Of the cunning Pau-Puk-Keewis.
- Hard his breath came through his nostrils,
- Through his teeth he buzzed and muttered
- Words of anger and resentment,
- Hot and humming, like a hornet.
- "I will slay this Pau-Puk-Keewis,
- Slay this mischief-maker!" said he.
- "Not so long and wide the world is,
- Not so rude and rough the way is,
- That my wrath shall not attain him,
- That my vengeance shall not reach him!"
- Then in swift pursuit departed
- Hiawatha and the hunters
- On the trail of Pau-Puk-Keewis,
- Through the forest, where he passed it,
- To the headlands where he rested;
- But they found not Pau-Puk-Keewis,
- Only in the trampled grasses,
- In the whortleberry-bushes,
- Found the couch where he had rested,
- Found the impress of his body.
- From the lowlands far beneath them,
- From the Muskoday, the meadow,
- Pau-Puk-Keewis, turning backward,
- Made a gesture of defiance,
- Made a gesture of derision;
- And aloud cried Hiawatha,
- From the summit of the mountains:
- "Not so long and wide the world is,
- Not so rude and rough the way is,
- But my wrath shall overtake you,
- And my vengeance shall attain you!"
- Over rock and over river,
- Through bush, and brake, and forest,
- Ran the cunning Pau-Puk-Keewis;
- Like an antelope he bounded,
- Till he came unto a streamlet
- In the middle of the forest,
- To a streamlet still and tranquil,
- That had overflowed its margin,
- To a dam made by the beavers,
- To a pond of quiet water,
- Where knee-deep the trees were standing,
- Where the water lilies floated,
- Where the rushes waved and whispered.
- On the dam stood Pau-Puk-Keewis,
- On the dam of trunks and branches,
- Through whose chinks the water spouted,
- O'er whose summit flowed the streamlet.
- From the bottom rose the beaver,
- Looked with two great eyes of wonder,
- Eyes that seemed to ask a question,
- At the stranger, Pau-Puk-Keewis.
- On the dam stood Pau-Puk-Keewis,
- O'er his ankles flowed the streamlet,
- Flowed the bright and silvery water,
- And he spake unto the beaver,
- With a smile he spake in this wise:
- "O my friend Ahmeek, the beaver,
- Cool and pleasant Is the water;
- Let me dive into the water,
- Let me rest there in your lodges;
- Change me, too, into a beaver!"
- Cautiously replied the beaver,
- With reserve he thus made answer:
- "Let me first consult the others,
- Let me ask the other beavers."
- Down he sank into the water,
- Heavily sank he, as a stone sinks,
- Down among the leaves and branches,
- Brown and matted at the bottom.
- On the dam stood Pau-Puk-Keewis,
- O'er his ankles flowed the streamlet,
- Spouted through the chinks below him,
- Dashed upon the stones beneath him,
- Spread serene and calm before him,
- And the sunshine and the shadows
- Fell in flecks and gleams upon him,
- Fell in little shining patches,
- Through the waving, rustling branches.
- From the bottom rose the beavers,
- Silently above the surface
- Rose one head and then another,
- Till the pond seemed full of beavers,
- Full of black and shining faces.
- To the beavers Pau-Puk-Keewis
- Spake entreating, said in this wise:
- "Very pleasant Is your dwelling,
- O my friends! and safe from danger;
- Can you not, with all your cunning,
- All your wisdom and contrivance,
- Change me, too, into a beaver?"
- "Yes!" replied Ahmeek, the beaver,
- He the King of all the beavers,
- "Let yourself slide down among us,
- Down into the tranquil water."
- Down into the pond among them
- Silently sank Pau-Puk-Keewis;
- Black became his shirt of deer-skin,
- Black his moccasins and leggings,
- In a broad black tail behind him
- Spread his fox-tails and his fringes;
- He was changed into a beaver.
- "Make me large," said Pau-Puk-Keewis,
- "Make me large and make me larger,
- Larger than the other beavers."
- "Yes," the beaver chief responded,
- "When our lodge below you enter,
- In our wigwam we will make you
- Ten times larger than the others."
- Thus into the clear, brown water
- Silently sank Pau-Puk-Keewis:
- Found the bottom covered over
- With the trunks of trees and branches,
- Hoards of food against the winter,
- Piles and heaps against the famine;
- Found the lodge with arching doorway,
- Leading into spacious chambers.
- Here they made him large and larger,
- Made him largest of the beavers,
- Ten times larger than the others.
- "You shall be our ruler," said they;
- "Chief and King of all the beavers."
- But not long had Pau-Puk-Keewis
- Sat in state among the beavers,
- When there came a voice, of warning
- From the watchman at his station
- In the water-flags and lilies,
- Saying, "Here Is Hiawatha!
- Hiawatha with his hunters!"
- Then they heard a cry above them,
- Heard a shouting and a tramping,
- Heard a crashing and a rushing,
- And the water round and o'er them
- Sank and sucked away in eddies,
- And they knew their dam was broken.
- On the lodge's roof the hunters
- Leaped, and broke it all asunder;
- Streamed the sunshine through the crevice,
- Sprang the beavers through the doorway,
- Hid themselves in deeper water,
- In the channel of the streamlet;
- But the mighty Pau-Puk-Keewis
- Could not pass beneath the doorway;
- He was puffed with pride and feeding,
- He was swollen like a bladder.
- Through the roof looked Hiawatha,
- Cried aloud, "O Pau-Puk-Keewis
- Vain are all your craft and cunning,
- Vain your manifold disguises!
- Well I know you, Pau-Puk-Keewis!"
- With their clubs they beat and bruised him,
- Beat to death poor Pau-Puk-Keewis,
- Pounded him as maize is pounded,
- Till his skull was crushed to pieces.
- Six tall hunters, lithe and limber,
- Bore him home on poles and branches,
- Bore the body of the beaver;
- But the ghost, the Jeebi in him,
- Thought and felt as Pau-Puk-Keewis,
- Still lived on as Pau-Puk-Keewis.
- And it fluttered, strove, and struggled,
- Waving hither, waving thither,
- As the curtains of a wigwam
- Struggle with their thongs of deer-skin,
- When the wintry wind is blowing;
- Till it drew itself together,
- Till it rose up from the body,
- Till it took the form and features
- Of the cunning Pau-Puk-Keewis
- Vanishing into the forest.
- But the wary Hiawatha
- Saw the figure ere it vanished,
- Saw the form of Pau-Puk-Keewis
- Glide into the soft blue shadow
- Of the pine-trees of the forest;
- Toward the squares of white beyond it,
- Toward an opening in the forest.
- Like a wind it rushed and panted,
- Bending all the boughs before it,
- And behind it, as the rain comes,
- Came the steps of Hiawatha.
- To a lake with many islands
- Came the breathless Pau-Puk-Keewis,
- Where among the water-lilies
- Pishnekuh, the brant, were sailing;
- Through the tufts of rushes floating,
- Steering through the reedy Islands.
- Now their broad black beaks they lifted,
- Now they plunged beneath the water,
- Now they darkened in the shadow,
- Now they brightened in the sunshine.
- "Pishnekuh!" cried Pau-Puk-Keewis,
- "Pishnekuh! my brothers!" said he,
- "Change me to a brant with plumage,
- With a shining neck and feathers,
- Make me large, and make me larger,
- Ten times larger than the others."
- Straightway to a brant they changed him,
- With two huge and dusky pinions,
- With a bosom smooth and rounded,
- With a bill like two great paddles,
- Made him larger than the others,
- Ten times larger than the largest,
- Just as, shouting from the forest,
- On the shore stood Hiawatha.
- Up they rose with cry and clamor,
- With a whir and beat of pinions,
- Rose up from the reedy Islands,
- From the water-flags and lilies.
- And they said to Pau-Puk-Keewis:
- "In your flying, look not downward,
- Take good heed and look not downward,
- Lest some strange mischance should happen,
- Lest some great mishap befall you!"
- Fast and far they fled to northward,
- Fast and far through mist and sunshine,
- Fed among the moors and fen-lands,
- Slept among the reeds and rushes.
- On the morrow as they journeyed,
- Buoyed and lifted by the South-wind,
- Wafted onward by the South-wind,
- Blowing fresh and strong behind them,
- Rose a sound of human voices,
- Rose a clamor from beneath them,
- From the lodges of a village,
- From the people miles beneath them.
- For the people of the village
- Saw the flock of brant with wonder,
- Saw the wings of Pau-Puk-Keewis
- Flapping far up in the ether,
- Broader than two doorway curtains.
- Pau-Puk-Keewis heard the shouting,
- Knew the voice of Hiawatha,
- Knew the outcry of Iagoo,
- And, forgetful of the warning,
- Drew his neck in, and looked downward,
- And the wind that blew behind him
- Caught his mighty fan of feathers,
- Sent him wheeling, whirling downward!
- All in vain did Pau-Puk-Keewis
- Struggle to regain his balance!
- Whirling round and round and downward,
- He beheld in turn the village
- And in turn the flock above him,
- Saw the village coming nearer,
- And the flock receding farther,
- Heard the voices growing louder,
- Heard the shouting and the laughter;
- Saw no more the flocks above him,
- Only saw the earth beneath him;
- Dead out of the empty heaven,
- Dead among the shouting people,
- With a heavy sound and sullen,
- Fell the brant with broken pinions.
- But his soul, his ghost, his shadow,
- Still survived as Pau-Puk-Keewis,
- Took again the form and features
- Of the handsome Yenadizze,
- And again went rushing onward,
- Followed fast by Hiawatha,
- Crying: "Not so wide the world is,
- Not so long and rough the way Is,
- But my wrath shall overtake you,
- But my vengeance shall attain you!"
- And so near he came, so near him,
- That his hand was stretched to seize him,
- His right hand to seize and hold him,
- When the cunning Pau-Puk-Keewis
- Whirled and spun about in circles,
- Fanned the air into a whirlwind,
- Danced the dust and leaves about him,
- And amid the whirling eddies
- Sprang into a hollow oak-tree,
- Changed himself into a serpent,
- Gliding out through root and rubbish.
- With his right hand Hiawatha
- Smote amain the hollow oak-tree,
- Rent it into shreds and splinters,
- Left it lying there in fragments.
- But in vain; for Pau-Puk-Keewis,
- Once again in human figure,
- Full in sight ran on before him,
- Sped away in gust and whirlwind,
- On the shores of Gitche Gumee,
- Westward by the Big-Sea-Water,
- Came unto the rocky headlands,
- To the Pictured Rocks of sandstone,
- Looking over lake and landscape.
- And the Old Man of the Mountain,
- He the Manito of Mountains,
- Opened wide his rocky doorways,
- Opened wide his deep abysses,
- Giving Pau-Puk-Keewis shelter
- In his caverns dark and dreary,
- Bidding Pau-Puk-Keewis welcome
- To his gloomy lodge of sandstone.
- There without stood Hiawatha,
- Found the doorways closed against him,
- With his mittens, Minjekahwun,
- Smote great caverns in the sandstone,
- Cried aloud in tones of thunder,
- "Open! I am Hiawatha!"
- But the Old Man of the Mountain
- Opened not, and made no answer
- From the silent crags of sandstone,
- From the gloomy rock abysses.
- Then he raised his hands to heaven,
- Called imploring on the tempest,
- Called Waywassimo, the lightning,
- And the thunder, Annemeekee;
- And they came with night and darkness,
- Sweeping down the Big-Sea-Water
- From the distant Thunder Mountains;
- And the trembling Pau-Puk-Keewis
- Heard the footsteps of the thunder,
- Saw the red eyes of the lightning,
- Was afraid, and crouched and trembled.
- Then Waywassimo, the lightning,
- Smote the doorways of the caverns,
- With his war-club smote the doorways,
- Smote the jutting crags of sandstone,
- And the thunder, Annemeekee,
- Shouted down into the caverns,
- Saying, "Where is Pau-Puk-Keewis!"
- And the crags fell, and beneath them
- Dead among the rocky ruins
- Lay the cunning Pau-Puk-Keewis,
- Lay the handsome Yenadizze,
- Slain in his own human figure.
- Ended were his wild adventures,
- Ended were his tricks and gambols,
- Ended all his craft and cunning,
- Ended all his mischief-making,
- All his gambling and his dancing,
- All his wooing of the maidens.
- Then the noble Hiawatha
- Took his soul, his ghost, his shadow,
- Spake and said: "O Pau-Puk-Keewis,
- Never more in human figure
- Shall you search for new adventures'
- Never more with jest and laughter
- Dance the dust and leaves in whirlwinds;
- But above there in the heavens
- You shall soar and sail in circles;
- I will change you to an eagle,
- To Keneu, the great war-eagle,
- Chief of all the fowls with feathers,
- Chief of Hiawatha's chickens."
- And the name of Pau-Puk-Keewis
- Lingers still among the people,
- Lingers still among the singers,
- And among the story-tellers;
- And in Winter, when the snow-flakes
- Whirl in eddies round the lodges,
- When the wind in gusty tumult
- O'er the smoke-flue pipes and whistles,
- "There," they cry, "comes Pau-Puk-Keewis,
- He is dancing through the village,
- He is gathering in his harvest!"
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