on the dark, rugged shore
of the blue _Gitchee Gumee_ he lingers.
No tidings the rising sun brings;
no tidings the star of the evening;
But morning and evening she sings,
like a turtle-dove widowed and waiting:

Ake u, ake u, ake u;
Ma cante maseeca.
Ake u, ake u, ake u;
Ma cante maseca.

Come again, come again, come again;
For my heart is sad.
Come again, come again, come again;
For my heart is sad.

DEATH OF WINONA.

Down the broad _Ha-Ha Wak-pa_[BS]
the band took their way to the Games at _Keoza_[8]
While the swift-footed hunters by land
ran the shores for the elk and the bison.
Like _magas_[BT] ride the birchen canoes
on the breast of the dark, winding river,
By the willow-fringed island they cruise,
by the grassy hills green to their summits;
By the lofty bluffs hooded with oaks
that darken the deep with their shadows;
And bright in the sun gleam the strokes
of the oars in the hands of the women.
With the band went Winona.
The oar plied the maid with the skill of a hunter.
They tarried a time on the shore of _Remnica_--
the Lake of the Mountains.[BU]
There the fleet hunters followed the deer,
and the thorny pahin[BV] for the women
From the tees rose the smoke of good cheer,
curling blue through the tops of the maples,
Near the foot of a cliff that arose,
like the battle-scarred walls of a castle,
Up-towering, in rugged repose,
to a dizzy height over the waters.

[BS] The Dakota name for the Mississippi, see note 76 in Appendix.

[BT] Wild Geese.

[BU] Lake Pepin, by Hennepin called Lake of Tears--Called by the Dakotas
_Remnee-chah-Mday_--Lake of the Mountains.

[BV] Pah-hin--the porcupine--the quills of which are greatly prized for
ornamental work.

But the man-wolf still followed his prey,
and the step-mother ruled in the teepee;
Her will must Winona obey,
by the custom and law of Dakotas.
The gifts to the teepee were brought--
the blankets and beads of the White men,
And Winona, the orphaned, was bought
by the crafty, relentless Tamdoka.
In the Spring-time of life, in the flush
of the gladsome mid-May days of Summer,
When the bobolink sang and the thrush,
and the red robin chirped in the branches,
To the tent of the brave must she go;
she must kind