Page:Song of Hiawatha (1855).djvu/193

Rh With his prisoner-string he bound him,

Led him captive to his wigwam,

Tied him fast with cords of elm-bark

To the ridge-pole of his wigwam.

"Kahgahgee, my raven!" said he,

"You the leader of the robbers,

You the plotter of this mischief,

The contriver of this outrage,

I will keep you, I will hold you,

As a hostage for your people,

As a pledge of good behavior!"

And he left him, grim and sulky,

Sitting in the morning sunshine

On the summit of the wigwam,

Croaking fiercely his displeasure,

Flapping his great sable pinions,

Vainly struggling for his freedom,

Vainly calling on his people!

Summer passed, and Shawondasse

Breathed his sighs o'er all the landscape,