80 VI. HIAWATHA'S FRIENDS. Two good friends had Hiawatha, And to whom he gave the right hand Of his heart, in joy and sorrow; Chibiabos, the musician, And the very strong man, Kwasind. Straight between them ran the pathway, Never grew the grass upon it; Singing birds, that utter falsehoods, Story-tellers, mischief-makers, Found no eager ear to listen, Could not breed ill-will between them, When he sang, the village listened; All the warriors gathered round him, All the women came to hear him; Now he stirred their souls to passion, Now he melted them to pity. From the hollow reeds he fashioned Flutes so musical and mellow, That the brook, the Sebowisha, Ceased to murmur in the woodland, That the wood-birds ceased from singing, And the squirrel, Adjidaumo, Ceased his chatter in the oak-tree, And the rabbit, the Wabasso, Sat upright to look and listen. Yes, the brook, the Sebowisha, Pausing, said, "O Chibiabos, Teach my waves to flow in music, Softly as your words in singing! Yes, the blue-bird, the Owaissa, Teach me tones as wild and wayward, Yes, the robin, the Opechee, Joyous, said, "O Chibiabos, Teach me tones as sweet and tender, And the whippoorwill, Wawonaissa, Sobbing, said, “O Chibiabos, Teach me tones as melancholy, For he sang of peace and freedom, Dear, too, unto Hiawatha Was the very strong man, Kwasind, Idle in his youth was Kwasind, Not like other children was he; But they saw that much he fasted, Much besought his Guardian Spirit. 66 "In Lazy Kwasind!” said his mother, my work you never help me! In the Summer you are roaming Idly in the fields and forests; In the Winter you are cowering O'er the firebrands in the wigwam! |