From the watchman at his station In the water-flags and lilies, Saying, "Here is Hiawatha! Hiawatha with his hunters!" 135 Then they heard a cry above them, Heard a shouting and a tramping, Heard a crashing and a rushing, And the water round and o'er them Sank and sucked away in eddies, 140 And they knew their dam was broken. On the lodge's roof the hunters Leaped, and broke it all asunder; Streamed the sunshine through the crevice, Sprang the beavers through the doorway, 145 Hid themselves in deeper water, In the channel of the streamlet; But the mighty Pau-Puk-Keewis Could not pass beneath the doorway; He was puffed with pride and feeding, 150 He was swollen like a bladder. Through the roof looked Hiawatha, Cried aloud, "O Pau-Puk-Keewis! Vain are all your craft and cunning, Vain your manifold disguises! 155 Well I know you, Pau-Puk-Keewis!" With their clubs they beat and bruised him, Beat to death poor Pau-Puk-Keewis, Pounded him as maize is pounded, Till his skull was crushed to pieces. 160 Six tall hunters, lithe and limber, Bore him home on poles and branches, Bore the body of the beaver; But the ghost, the Jeebi in him, Thought and felt as Pau-Puk-Keewis, 165 Still lived on as Pau-Puk-Keewis. And it fluttered, strove, and struggled, Waving hither, waving thither, As the curtains of a wigwam Struggle with their thongs of deer-skin, 170 When the wintry wind is blowing; Till it drew itself together, Till it rose up from the body, Till it took the form and features Of the cunning Pau-Puk-Keewis 175 Vanishing into the forest. But the wary Hiawatha Saw the figure ere it vanished, Saw the form of Pau-Puk-Keewis Glide into the soft blue shadow 180 Of the pine-trees of the forest; Toward the squares of white beyond it, Toward an opening in the forest, Like a wind it rushed and panted, Bending all the boughs before it, 185 And behind it, as the rain comes, Came the steps of Hiawatha. To a lake with many islands Came the breathless Pau-Puk-Keewis, Where among the water-lilies 190 Pishnekuh, the brant, were sailing; Through the tufts of rushes floating, Steering through the reedy islands. Now their broad black beaks they lifted, Now they plunged beneath the water, 195 Now they darkened in the shadow, Now they brightened in the sunshine. "Pishnekuh!" cried Pau-Puk-Keewis, "Pishnekuh! my brothers!" said he, "Change me to a brant with plumage, 200 With a shining neck and feathers, Make me large, and make me larger, Ten times larger than the others."