The Song of Hiawatha: Five



Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

Hiawatha 5

And the chiefs made answer, saying:
“We have listened to your message,
We have heard your words of wisdom,
We will think on what you tell us.
It is well for us, O brothers,
That you come so far to see us!”
Then they rose up and departed
Each one homeward to his wigwam,
To the young men and the women
Told the story of the strangers
Whom the Master of Life had sent them
From the shining land of Wabun.
Heavy with the heat and silence
Grew the afternoon of Summer;
With a drowsy sound the forest
Whispered round the sultry wigwam,
With a sound of sleep the water
Rippled on the beach below it;
From the cornfields shrill and ceaseless
Sang the grasshopper, Pah-puk-keena;
And the guests of Hiawatha,
Weary with the heat of Summer,
Slumbered in the sultry wigwam.
Slowly o’er the simmering landscape
Fell the evening’s dusk and coolness,
And the long and level sunbeams
Shot their spears into the forest,
Breaking through its shields of shadow,
Rushed into each secret ambush,
Searched each thicket, dingle, hollow;
Still the guests of Hiawatha
Slumbered in the silent wigwam.

The Song of Hiawatha: Four



Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

Hiawatha 3

And the Black-Robe chief made answer,
Stammered in his speech a little,
Speaking words yet unfamiliar:
“Peace be with you, Hiawatha,
Peace be with you and your people,
Peace of prayer, and peace of pardon,
Peace of Christ, and joy of Mary!”
Then the generous Hiawatha
Led the strangers to his wigwam,
Seated them on skins of bison,
Seated them on skins of ermine,
And the careful old Nokomis
Brought them food in bowls of basswood,
Water brought in birchen dippers,
And the calumet, the peace-pipe,
Filled and lighted for their smoking.
All the old men of the village,
All the warriors of the nation,
All the Jossakeeds, the Prophets,
The magicians, the Wabenos,
And the Medicine-men, the Medas,
Came to bid the strangers welcome;
“It is well”, they said, “O brothers,
That you come so far to see us!”
In a circle round the doorway,
With their pipes they sat in silence,
Waiting to behold the strangers,
Waiting to receive their message;
Till the Black-Robe chief, the Pale-face,
From the wigwam came to greet them,
Stammering in his speech a little,
Speaking words yet unfamiliar;
“It is well,” they said, “O brother,
That you come so far to see us!”
Then the Black-Robe chief, the Prophet,
Told his message to the people,
Told the purport of his mission,
Told them of the Virgin Mary,
And her blessed Son, the Saviour,
How in distant lands and ages
He had lived on earth as we do;
How he fasted, prayed, and labored;
How the Jews, the tribe accursed,
Mocked him, scourged him, crucified him;
How he rose from where they laid him,
Walked again with his disciples,
And ascended into heaven.

The Song of Hiawatha: Three



Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

Hiawatha 4

 And the noble Hiawatha,
With his hands aloft extended,
Held aloft in sign of welcome,
Waited, full of exultation,
Till the birch canoe with paddles
Grated on the shining pebbles,
Stranded on the sandy margin,
Till the Black-Robe chief, the Pale-face,
With the cross upon his bosom,
Landed on the sandy margin.
Then the joyous Hiawatha
Cried aloud and spake in this wise:
“Beautiful is the sun, O strangers,
When you come so far to see us!
All our town in peace awaits you,
All our doors stand open for you;
You shall enter all our wigwams,
For the heart’s right hand we give you.
“Never bloomed the earth so gayly,
Never shone the sun so brightly,
As to-day they shine and blossom
When you come so far to see us!
Never was our lake so tranquil,
Nor so free from rocks, and sand-bars;
For your birch canoe in passing
Has removed both rock and sand-bar.
“Never before had our tobacco
Such a sweet and pleasant flavor,
Never the broad leaves of our cornfields
Were so beautiful to look on,
As they seem to us this morning,
When you come so far to see us!’

The Song of Hiawatha: Two



Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

Hiawatha 2

Toward the sun his hands were lifted,
Both the palms spread out against it,
And between the parted fingers
Fell the sunshine on his features,
Flecked with light his naked shoulders,
As it falls and flecks an oak-tree
Through the rifted leaves and branches.
O’er the water floating, flying,
Something in the hazy distance,
Something in the mists of morning,
Loomed and lifted from the water,
Now seemed floating, now seemed flying,
Coming nearer, nearer, nearer.
Was it Shingebis the diver?
Or the pelican, the Shada?
Or the heron, the Shuh-shuh-gah?
Or the white goose, Waw-be-wawa,
With the water dripping, flashing,
From its glossy neck and feathers?
It was neither goose nor diver,
Neither pelican nor heron,
O’er the water floating, flying,
Through the shining mist of morning,
But a birch canoe with paddles,
Rising, sinking on the water,
Dripping, flashing in the sunshine;
And within it came a people
From the distant land of Wabun,
From the farthest realms of morning
Came the Black-Robe chief, the Prophet,
He the Priest of Prayer, the Pale-face,
With his guides and his companions.

The Song of Hiawatha: One



Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

Hiawatha 1

By the shore of Gitche Gumee,
By the shining Big-Sea-Water,
At the doorway of his wigwam,
In the pleasant Summer morning,
Hiawatha stood and waited.
All the air was full of freshness,
All the earth was bright and joyous,
And before him, through the sunshine,
Westward toward the neighboring forest
Passed in golden swarms the Ahmo,
Passed the bees, the honey-makers,
Burning, singing in the sunshine.
Bright above him shone the heavens,
Level spread the lake before him;
From its bosom leaped the sturgeon,
Sparkling, flashing in the sunshine;
On its margin the great forest
Stood reflected in the water,
Every tree-top had its shadow,
Motionless beneath the water.
From the brow of Hiawatha
Gone was every trace of sorrow,
As the fog from off the water,
As the mist from off the meadow.
With a smile of joy and triumph,
With a look of exultation,
As of one who in a vision
Sees what is to be, but is not,
Stood and waited Hiawatha.

Pemmican: The world’s best super-food?


pemmican pic

  • Pemmican is a high-energy food traditionally made, stored, and eaten by Native Americans.
  • The name comes from the Cree word pimi meaning fat or grease.
  • This food can be made from bison, deer, elk, moose, and fish.
  • Sometimes fruit, nuts, or berries are added.   The most popular flavors are peanut, cranberry, cherry, blueberry, currant, chokeberry, and saskatoon berry.
  • The meat is cut into thin strips and dried — either in the sun or over a fire — until it turns hard and brittle.
  • It is then pounded into a fine powder using heavy stones, and mixed with melted fat and any additional flavorings.
  • First Nation tribes stored their pemmican in rawhide bags.
  • Pemmican can be eaten raw, but it is more often boiled in a stew called rubaboo, or fried with onions and potatoes.
  • It was adopted by many European explorers because it was light to carry, nutritious, and travelled well.
  • It is said that pemmican can last as long as 50 years!

       Have you ever tried it?


Wikipedia, “Pemmican” at



Buffy Sainte-Marie’s SOLDIER BLUE


(Buffy Sainte-Marie)

Custer Portrait

Tell you a story, and it’s a true one
And I’ll tell it like you’ll understand
And I ain’t gonna talk like some history man

I look out and I see a land
Young and lovely, hard and strong
For fifty thousand years we’ve danced her praises
Prayed our thanks and we’ve just begun

This is, this is my country
Young and growin’ and free and flowin’ sea to sea
Yes this is my country
Ripe and bearing miracles in every pond and tree

Her spirit walks the high country
She is givin’ free wild samples and settin’ an example
How to give, yes, this is my country
Retchin’ and turnin’, she’s like a baby learnin’ how to live

I can stand upon a hill at dawn
Look all around me, feel her surround me
Soldier blue, can’t you see her life has just begun?
It’s beating inside us, telling us she’s here to guide us

Ooh, soldier blue, soldier blue
Can’t you see that there’s another way to love her?

This is my country
And I sprang from her and I’m learnin’ how to count upon her
Tall trees and the corn is high country
Yes, I love her and I’m learnin’ how to take care of her

Whenever the news stories get me down
I, I take a drink of freedom to think of
North America from toe to crown
It’s never long before I know just why I belong here

Ooh, soldier blue, soldier blue
Can’t you see that there’s another way to love her?
Ooh, soldier blue, soldier blue
Can’t you see that there’s another way to love her?
Soldier blue, soldier blue
Can’t you see that there’s another way to love her?