Four times must their fires be lighted. 
Therefore, when the dead are buried,
Let a fire, as night approaches,
Four times on the grave be kindled,
That the soul upon its journey
May not lack the cheerful firelight,
May not grope about in darkness. 
  “Farewell, noble Hiawatha! 
We have put you to the trial,
To the proof have put your patience,
By the insult of our presence,
By the outrage of our actions. 
We have found you great and noble. 
Fail not in the greater trial,
Faint not in the harder struggle.” 
   When they ceased, a sudden darkness
Fell and filled the silent wigwam. 
Hiawatha heard a rustle
As of garments trailing by him,
Heard the curtain of the doorway
Lifted by a hand he saw not,
Felt the cold breath of the night air,
For a moment saw the starlight;
But he saw the ghosts no longer,
Saw no more the wandering spirits
From the kingdom of Ponemah,
From the land of the Hereafter.

XX

THE FAMINE

Oh the long and dreary Winter! 
Oh the cold and cruel Winter! 
Ever thicker, thicker, thicker
Froze the ice on lake and river,
Ever deeper, deeper, deeper
Fell the snow o’er all the landscape,
Fell the covering snow, and drifted
Through the forest, round the village. 
Hardly from his buried wigwam
Could the hunter force a passage;
With his mittens and his snow-shoes
Vainly walked he through the forest,
Sought for bird or beast and found none,
Saw no track of deer or rabbit,
In the snow beheld no footprints,
In the ghastly, gleaming forest
Fell, and could not rise from weakness,
Perished there from cold and hunger. 
  Oh the famine and the fever! 
Oh the wasting of the famine! 
Oh the blasting of the fever! 
Oh the wailing of the children! 
Oh the anguish of the women! 
  All the earth was sick and famished;
Hungry was the air around them,
Hungry was the sky above them,
And the hungry stars in heaven
Like the eyes of wolves glared at them! 
  Into Hiawatha’s wigwam
Came two other guests, as silent
As the ghosts were, and as gloomy,
Waited not to be invited
Did not parley at the doorway
Sat there without word of welcome
In the seat of Laughing Water;
Looked with haggard eyes and hollow
At the face of Laughing Water. 
  And the foremost said:  “Behold me! 
I am Famine, Bukadawin!”
And the other said:  “Behold me! 
I am Fever, Ahkosewin!”
  And the lovely Minnehaha
Shuddered as they looked upon her,
Shuddered at the words they uttered,
Lay down on her bed in silence,
Hid her face, but made no answer;
Lay there trembling, freezing, burning
At the looks they cast upon her,
At the fearful words they uttered. 
  Forth into the empty forest
Rushed the maddened Hiawatha;