Minne-wawa captured bénas,
Baby plovers, for her children.
Little baby names she gave them,
Gathered little seeds to feed them,
Seeds that lay among the bushes.
Then she made them tiny houses,
Gathered rushes on the mountain.
Baby plovers, for her children.
Little baby names she gave them,
Gathered little seeds to feed them,
Seeds that lay among the bushes.
Then she made them tiny houses,
Gathered rushes on the mountain.
Old Nakomis plaited rushes,
In and out with nimble fingers,
Making houses for the pheasants.
Oft they played among the needles.
Minne-wawa sang a love-song
To her little baby pheasants.
Then she danced among the needles,
Needles from the firs above them,
While the west wind stirred the branches.
Oft Nakomis, calling softly,
Gently spake to Minne-wawa:
"Guard yourself, my only daughter,
Lest the great bear, Mishe-Mókwa,
Or the savage, fire-eyed panther,
Seize you, O my Minne-wawa!"
Then she spake to strong Iago,
To the mighty arrow-maker:
"Have your bow and arrows ready;
Let them hang beside the doorway;
Lest the bear or savage panther
Snatch away our Minne-wawa!"
Then Iago, grasping firmly,
Strung his bow with toughened sinew,
Twanged his bowstring till it quavered;
Like an aspen leaf it trembled.
Then his arrows tipped with jasper,
Quiver filled with pointed arrows,
Hung beside the wigwam entrance.
Minne-wawa and her pheasants
Marched around the little wigwam,
Running, flying as in laughter,
While she sang a little bird-song.
Then at eve, when shadows lengthened,
And the sun sank softly westward,
Crooned she low a little night-song
To her babies in their houses.
In and out with nimble fingers,
Making houses for the pheasants.
Oft they played among the needles.
Minne-wawa sang a love-song
To her little baby pheasants.
Then she danced among the needles,
Needles from the firs above them,
While the west wind stirred the branches.
Oft Nakomis, calling softly,
Gently spake to Minne-wawa:
"Guard yourself, my only daughter,
Lest the great bear, Mishe-Mókwa,
Or the savage, fire-eyed panther,
Seize you, O my Minne-wawa!"
Then she spake to strong Iago,
To the mighty arrow-maker:
"Have your bow and arrows ready;
Let them hang beside the doorway;
Lest the bear or savage panther
Snatch away our Minne-wawa!"
Then Iago, grasping firmly,
Strung his bow with toughened sinew,
Twanged his bowstring till it quavered;
Like an aspen leaf it trembled.
Then his arrows tipped with jasper,
Quiver filled with pointed arrows,
Hung beside the wigwam entrance.
Minne-wawa and her pheasants
Marched around the little wigwam,
Running, flying as in laughter,
While she sang a little bird-song.
Then at eve, when shadows lengthened,
And the sun sank softly westward,
Crooned she low a little night-song
To her babies in their houses.
When the breezes stirred the branches,
Needles fell around the wigwam,
From the redwoods high above her;
Pitchy cones fell all about her.
Darkness gathered around the wigwam,
Wakeful nightbird trilling faintly;
Kó-kó-kó-kó, owl ill omened,
Woke the stillness of the mountain.
Suddenly shrieked Minne-wawa:
"Mishe-mokwa or fierce panther!
O my little baby pheasants!
Bring them swiftly to the wigwam.
For I see his glaring eyeballs;
See him ever nearer creeping!"
"Wake, Iago?" cried Nakomis.
"Mishe-mókwa, savage panther!"
Needles fell around the wigwam,
From the redwoods high above her;
Pitchy cones fell all about her.
Darkness gathered around the wigwam,
Wakeful nightbird trilling faintly;
Kó-kó-kó-kó, owl ill omened,
Woke the stillness of the mountain.
Suddenly shrieked Minne-wawa:
"Mishe-mokwa or fierce panther!
O my little baby pheasants!
Bring them swiftly to the wigwam.
For I see his glaring eyeballs;
See him ever nearer creeping!"
"Wake, Iago?" cried Nakomis.
"Mishe-mókwa, savage panther!"
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