THE HUNT

In the Land-of-Wind-and-Water
Long the Summer-Glory lingered,
Loath to yield its ripened beauty
To the cold embrace of Winter.
And the greenness of the forest
Gave no sign of coming treason,
Till the White Frost without warning
Hung his banners from the tree-tops.
Then a blush of brilliant color
Decked each shrub with tinted beauty;
Gold, and brown, and scarlet mingled
Till no color seemed triumphant;
And the Summer doomed to exile
Fled before the chilling Autumn.

While the glow of colors deepened,
The proud Weroance Win-gin-a,
Chief of Das-a-mon-gué-pue land,
Made a feast for all his people;
Called them forth with bow and arrow
To a test of skill and valor.
He was weary of the mysteries
Whispered of the famous White Doe,
Whose strange courage feared no hunter,
For no arrow ever reached her.
“Ha!” said he, “a skilful hunter
Is not daunted by a white doe;
Craven hearts make trembling fingers,
Arrows fail when shot by cowards.
I will shoot this doe so fearless,
Her white skin shall be my mantle,
Her white meat shall serve for feasting,
And my braves shall cease from fearing.
From the fields the maize invites us,
Sturgeons have been fat and plenty.
We are weary of fish-eating,
We will feast on meat of white deer.”

Messengers of invitation
Sent he to the other nations,
Saying, “Come and hunt the White Doe,
Bring your surest, fleetest arrows;
We will eat the meat of white deer,
We will drink the purple grape-juice,
Burn the uppowoc in pipe-bowls,
While we shame the trembling hunters.”

But the Cro-a-to-ans kept silence,
Sent no answer to his greeting.
They believed the charmed White Doe
Was Wi-no-na Ska’s pure spirit,
Who in freedom still was happy,
And they would not wound or harm her,
They would shoot no arrows at her,
Nor help feast upon her body.

Then O-kis-ko answered boldly;
“I will go and hunt this White Doe,
I will shoot from my own ambush,
I will take my fleetest arrow.”
And the men and women wondered,
For they knew his former loving.

But O-kis-ko kept his secret,
Showed no one his new-made arrow;
’Round his shoulders threw a mantle
Made of skins of many sea-gulls,
So that he could hide his arrow,
And no mortal eye could see it
Till he sent it on its mission
Winged with magic, fraught with mercy.

Thus he went to Ro-a-no-ak,
Love, and hope, and faith impelling,
Conscious of his aim unerring,
Trusting in the arrow’s power.

From Po-mou-ik came Wan-ches-e,
For the hunt and feast impatient,
Boasting of his skill and valor,
Saying in his loud vainglory:
“I will teach the braves to shoot deer,
Young men now are not great hunters,
Hearts like squaws they have within them,
Nothing fears them but a papoose.”

Wan-ches-e had crossed the water
In the ships with wings like sea-birds,
And the Pale-Face Weroanza,
Whom he saw in her own country,
Him to please and show her friendship,
Gave an arrow-head of silver
To him as a mark of favor.

This he now brought proudly with him,
As of all his arrows fleetest;
Bearing in its lustrous metal,
As he thought, some gift of power
From the mighty Weroanza
Which would bring success unto him;
And the warriors all would praise him
As around the feast they gathered,
Saying as he walked among them:
“There is none like brave Wan-ches-e,
He can bend the bow with firmness,
He has arrow-points of silver,
And the White Doe falls before him.”
And he polished well the arrow
Which he thought would bring him praises.

Where the deer were wont to wander
All the hunters took their stations,
While the stalkers sought the forest,
From its depths to start the deer-herd.

Near the shore Win-gin-a lingered
That he first might shoot his arrow,
And thus have the certain glory
Of the White Doe’s death upon him.

By a pine-tree stood Wan-ches-e
With his silver arrow ready;
While O-kis-ko, unseen, waited
Near by in his chosen ambush,
Where he oft had watched the White Doe,
Where he knew she always lingered.

Soon the stalkers with great shouting
Started up the frightened red deer;
On they came through brake and thicket,
In the front the White Doe leading,
With fleet foot and head uplifted,
Daring all the herd to follow.

Easy seemed the task of killing,
So Win-gin-a twanged his bow-string,
But his arrow fell beside her
As she sprang away from danger.

Through the tanglewood, still onward,
Head uplifted, her feet scorning
All the wealth of bright-hued foliage
Which lay scattered in her pathway.
Up the high sand-dunes she bounded,
In her wake the whole herd followed,
While the arrows aimed from ambush
Fell around her ever harmless.

On she sped, towards the water,
Nostrils spread to sniff the sea-breeze;
Through the air a whizzing arrow
Flew, but did not touch the White Doe;
But a stag beside her bounding
Wounded fell among the bushes,
And the herd fled in confusion,
Waiting now not for the leader.

On again, with leaping footsteps,
Tossing head turned to the sea-shore;
For one fatal minute standing
Where the White Man’s Fort had once stood;
In her eyes came wistful gleamings
Like a lost hope’s fleeting shadow.

While with graceful poise she lingered,
Swift, Wan-ches-e shot his arrow
Aimed with cruel thought to kill her;
While from near and secret ambush,
With unerring aim, O-kis-ko
Forward sent his magic arrow,
Aimed with thought of love and mercy.

To her heart straight went both arrows,
And with leap of pain she bounded
From the earth, and then fell forward,
Prone, amidst the forest splendor.
O-kis-ko, with fond heart swelling,
Wan-ches-e, with pride exultant,
To the Doe both sprang to claim it,
Each surprised to see the other.

Suddenly, within the forest,
Spread a gleaming mist around them,
Like a dense white fog in summer,
So they scarce could grope their pathway.
Slowly, as if warmed by sunbeams,
From one spot the soft mist melted,
While within its bright’ning dimness,
With the misty halo ’round her,
Stood a beautiful white maiden,
Stood the gentle, lost Wi-no-na.

Through her heart two arrows crosswise
Pierced the flesh with cruel wounding;
Downward flowed the crimson blood-tide,
Staining red the snow-white doe-skin
Which with grace her form enveloped,
While her arms with pleading gesture
To O-kis-ko were outstretching.

As they gazed upon the vision,
All their souls with wonder filling;
While the white mist slowly melted,
Prostrate fell the wounded maiden.

Then revealed was all the myst’ry,
Then they saw what had befallen.
To her heart the magic arrow
First had pierced, and lo! Wi-no-na
Once more breathed in form of maiden.

But while yet the charm was passing
Came the arrow of Wan-ches-e;
To her heart it pierced unerring,
Pierced the pearl-inlaid triangle,
Struck and broke the shark’s tooth narrow,
Charm and counter-charm undoing;
Leaving but a mortal maiden
Wounded past the hope of healing.

Woe to love, and hope, and magic!
Woe to hearts whom death divideth!
While upon her bleeding bosom
Fatal arrows made the Cross-Sign,
Wistful eyes she turned to Heaven;
“O forget not your Wi-no-na,”
Whispered she unto O-kis-ko,
As her soul passed to the silence.