out among
the whirlpools. He followed the beaver among the islands, dove after him
to the bottom of the river and stayed under water so long that his
companions believed him dead and cried out: "Alas, we shall see Kwasind
no more! He is drowned in the whirlpool!" But Kwasind's head showed at
last above the water and he swam ashore, carrying the King of Beavers
dead upon his shoulders.

These were the sort of men that Hiawatha chose to be his friends.

VII

HIAWATHA'S SAILING

ONCE Hiawatha was sitting alone beside the swift and mighty river
Taquamenaw, and he longed for a canoe with which he might explore the
river from bank to bank, and learn to know all its rapids and its
shallows. And Hiawatha set about building himself a canoe such as he
needed, and he called upon the forest to give him aid:

"Give me your bark, O Birch Tree!" cried Hiawatha; "I will build me a
light canoe for sailing that shall float upon the river like a yellow
leaf in autumn. Lay aside your cloak, O Birch Tree, for the summer time
is coming." And the birch tree sighed and rustled in the breeze,
murmuring sadly: "Take my cloak, O Hiawatha!"

With his knife Hiawatha cut around the trunk of the birch-tree just
beneath the branches until the sap came oozing forth; and he also cut
the bark around the tree-trunk just above the roots. He slashed the bark
from top to bottom, raised it with wooden wedges and stripped it from
the trunk of the tree without a crack in all its golden surface.

"Give me your boughs, O Cedar!" cried Hiawatha. "Give me your strong and
pliant branches, to make my canoe firmer and tougher beneath me."
Through all the branches of the cedar there swept a noise as if somebody
were crying with horror, but the tree at last bent downward and
whispered: "Take my boughs, O Hiawatha."

He cut down the boughs of the cedar and made them into a framework with
the shape of two bows bent together, and he covered this framework with
the rich and yellow bark.

"Give me your roots, O Larch Tree!" cried Hiawatha, "to bind the ends of
my canoe together, that the water may not enter and the river may not
wet me!" The larch-tree shivered in the air and touched Hiawatha's
forehead with its tassels, sighing: "Take them, take them!" as he tore
the fibres from the earth. With the tough roots he sewed the ends of his
canoe together and bound the bark tightly to the framework, and his
canoe became light and graceful in shape. He took the