"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.
