an to parley, but, in the act, received a
second arrow, which brought him to his knees. But he again recovered.
In so doing, however, he exposed his head, and gave his adversary a
chance to fire his third arrow, which penetrated deep, and brought him
a lifeless corpse to the ground. Hiawatha uttered his saw-saw-quan,
and taking his scalp as a trophy, he called the woodpecker to come and
receive a reward for his information. He took the blood of the Manito
and rubbed it on the woodpecker's head, the feathers of which are red
to this day.

After this victory he returned home, singing songs of triumph and
beating his drum. When his grandmother heard him, she came to the
shore and welcomed him with songs and dancing. Glory fired his mind.
He displayed the trophies he had brought in the most conspicuous
manner, and felt an unconquerable desire for other adventures. He
felt himself urged by the consciousness of his power to new trials of
bravery, skill, and necromantic prowess. He had destroyed the Manito
of Wealth, and killed his guardian serpents, and eluded all his
charms. He did not long remain inactive.

His next adventure was upon the water, and proved him the prince of
fishermen. He captured a fish of such a monstrous size, that the fat
and oil he obtained from it formed a small lake. He therefore invited
all the animals and fowls to a banquet, and he made the order in which
they partook of this repast the measure of their fatness. As fast as
they arrived, he told them to plunge in. The bear came first, and was
followed by the deer, opossum, and such other animals as are noted for
their peculiar fatness at certain seasons. The moose and bison
came tardily. The partridge looked on till the reservoir was nearly
exhausted. The hare and marten came last, and these animals have
consequently no fat.

When this ceremony was over, he told the assembled animals and birds
to dance, taking up his drum and crying, "New songs from the south,
come, brothers, dance." He directed them to pass in a circle around
him, and to shut their eyes. They did so. When he saw a fat fowl pass
by him, he adroitly wrung off its head, at the same time beating his
drum and singing with greater vehemence, to drown the noise of the
fluttering, and crying out, in a tone of admiration, "That's the way,
my brothers, _that's_ the way." At last a small duck [the diver],
thinking there was something wrong, opened one eye and saw what he was
doing. Giving