Part 24 (1/2)
For some time the Canadian gentleman who arranged the expedition had been cheris.h.i.+ng the idea of training the Indians to perform scenes from ”Hiawatha” in the forest on the sh.o.r.es of the ”big sea water.” Kabaoosa readily fell in with this scheme, and after the visit of the Indians to Mr. Longfellow's home in Cambridge the plan rapidly matured, and a formal invitation was sent to Mr. Longfellow's family to be present at the representation as guests of the Indians. The invitation was written on birch bark, in Ojibway, and was as follows:--
LADIES: We loved your father. The memory of our people will never die as long as your father's song lives, and that will live forever.
Will you and your husbands and Miss Longfellow come and see us and stay in our royal wigwams on an island in Hiawatha's playground, in the land of the Ojibways? We want you to see us live over again the life of Hiawatha in his own country.
KABAOOSA.
WABUNOSA.
BOSTON, _Onahbaunegises, The month of crusts on the snow._
The invitation was cordially accepted, and in August the party of guests, twelve in all, left the train at Desbarats on the north sh.o.r.e of Lake Huron; there they were met by the Indians in full costume, and in sailboat and canoes they set forth for the little rocky island, which had been prepared for them. There was a square stone lodge on the highest part of the island, most picturesquely finished inside and out, with the flag of England floating above it. Surrounding this were several tepees of tanned hide and stained canvas, and nearer the sh.o.r.e two little groups of tents, where two Indian families lived, who cooked and served, sailed the boats, entertained their guests with songs, dancing, and story-telling, doing all with a quiet dignity, ease of manner, and genuine kindliness that removed every difficulty.
The play of ”Hiawatha” was performed on a rocky, thickly wooded point about two miles away. Near the sh.o.r.e a platform was built around a tall pine-tree, and grouped around this were tepees and wigwams forming the Indian village. Behind this the ground sloped gradually upward, forming a natural amphitheatre.
As a prelude to the play a large pile of brushwood was lighted.
”And the smoke rose slowly, slowly, As a signal to the Nations.”
Down the hillsides rushed the braves in war-paint and feathers,--
”Wildly glaring at each other, In their hearts the feuds of ages.
Then upon the ground the warriors Threw their weapons and their war-gear, Leaped into the rus.h.i.+ng river, Washed the war-paint from their faces, And in silence all the warriors Broke the red stone of the quarry, Smoothed and formed it into Peace-Pipes.”
Then appeared old Nokomis leading by the hand the youthful Hiawatha, and taught him how to shoot the bow and arrow, while the warriors stood around watching and applauding when he hit the mark.
The third scene was the journey of Hiawatha in his manhood after his battle with Mudjekeewis, a picturesque figure striding through the woods flecked with suns.h.i.+ne and shadow.
”Only once his pace he slackened, Paused to purchase heads of arrows Of the ancient arrow-maker.”
The wigwam of the ancient arrow-maker was placed far from the rest in the shade of the trees, to give an idea of distance. The arrow-maker himself, a very old man, sat by the entrance, cutting arrowheads; his daughter, a modest Indian maiden, stood beside him with downcast eyes, while the stranger paused to talk with her father.
This scene was followed by the return of Hiawatha to the land of the Dakotahs. Again the old man sat in the doorway, and by him was Minnehaha, ”plaiting mats of flags and rushes.”
”Then uprose the Laughing Water, Laid aside her mat unfinished, Brought forth food, and set before them, Gave them drink in bowls of ba.s.s wood.”
She stood modestly on one side while Hiawatha urged his suit, and then putting her hand in his, she followed him home through the forest.
Then came the wedding dances, full of life and spirit, the figures moving always round and round in a circle, with a swaying motion, the feet scarcely lifted from the ground. Under the pine-tree, tall and erect, with head and eyes uplifted, stood the musician, chanting his songs with a strange rhythmical cadence, and accompanying them on the flat Indian drum.
The old Nokomis in one corner guarded with a war-club a group of maidens who were dancing all the while, and the braves circling round slyly stole one maiden after another, until Nokomis was left alone. Then followed the caribou dance, the dancers with arms uplifted like horns, knocking and striking one another; the bear dance, with its clumsy, heavy motion; and the snake dance, where the dancers wound and twisted in and out, round and round; and always the singer continued his rhythmic chant.