SHOULD you ask me, whence these stories? Whence these legends and traditions, With the odors of the forest, With the dew and damp of meadows, I should answer, I should tell you, From the land of the Dacotahs, From the mountains, moors, and fen-lands, Where the heron, the Shuh-shuh-gah, Feeds among the reeds and rushes. I repeat them as I heard them From the lips of Nawadaha, The musician, the sweet singer." Should you ask where Nawadaha Found these songs, so wild and wayward, Found these legends and traditions, In the hoof-prints of the bison, In the eyry of the eagle ! "All the wild-fowl sang them to him, In the moorlands and the fen-lands, In the melancholy marshes; Chetowaik, the plover, sang them, Mahng, the loon, the wild-goose, Wawa, The blue heron, the Shuh-shuh-gah, And the grouse, the Mushkodasa!" If still further you should ask me, Saying, "Who was Nawadaha? Tell us of this Nawadaha," I should answer your inquiries In the green and silent valley, Dwelt the singer Nawadaha. Round about the Indian village Spread the meadows and the corn-fields, "And the pleasant water-courses, |