Not another word. With a furious bound and a roar of welcome, he sprang against the iron bars, that bent and shivered with the blow. My friends fled in terror, calling on me to do the same. Noble animal! you made the world tremble even in your ecstasies of pleasure. Hubert was standing with his cheek against the grating, attempting to break down the obstacle that separated us, magnificent to behold, as he shook the walls of the building with his roars of joy and rage.

His enormous tongue licked the hand that I abandoned to his caresses, while with his paws he gently tried to draw me to him. If any one attempted to come near, he fell into a frenzy of anger; and when the visitors fell back to a distance. he became calm and caressing as before, handling me with his huge paws, rubbing against the bars, and licking my hand, while every gesture, and sound, and look told of his joy and his love.

I cannot tell how hard it was to part with him. Twenty times I came back to speak to him, and to try and make him understand that I was coming back again. And each time that I started to go, he shook the gallery with his bounds and heart-rending roars.

For some time I came every day to see my friend in his solitary prison house, and sometimes we passed several hours together in most affectionate intercourse. But after a little while, I noticed that he became sad and changed, and seemed utterly dispirited. I consulted the keepers of the garden, and they thought that it was owing to my visits, and his regret at my leaving him. I then tried to keep away, and gradually to accustom him to my absence, hoping to win him over to a calmer state of mind.

One fine day in the month of May, I entered the garden as usual. One of the keepers came forward, and respectfully saluting me, said with sorrow, "Do not come any more, sir; Hubert is dead." I turned on my heel, and hastened out of the garden, bowed down by heavy grief at the loss of my friend and the crowding memories of the past.

Thus died this child of the wilderness, that I had taken from his mother's breast, from the pure air of the mountain, from liberty and the widest dominion, to wither in a prison. In the forest he would have been living yet; civilization killed him.

Hereafter live and rule in absolute liberty, fierce sultans of Atlas! Never again will I raise my hand to bring you into slavery. What is the destruction that comes like the thunderbolt in the forest, beneath the midnight sky, to the slow agony of the prison house! Better, a thousand times, the iron ball of the hunter than the iron shackle of a jailer.

XXXVI. - HIAWATHA'S WOOING.

LONGFELLOW.

[Hiawatha, whose first experiment in hunting is related a few lessons back, grows up into a tall and handsome young man, and begins to think of taking a wife. He had previously been into the land of the Dacotahs, and seen the ancient arrow maker, and his beautiful daughter, Minnehaha, or Laughing Water. Nokomis is his grandmother, by whom he had been brought up.]

"As unto the bow the cord is,

So unto the man is woman;

Though she bends him, she obeys him,
Though she draws him, yet she follows,
Useless each without the other."
Thus the youthful Hiawatha
Said within himself and pondered,
Much perplexed by various feelings,
Listless, longing, hoping, fearing,
Dreaming still of Minnehaha,
Of the lovely Laughing Water,
In the land of the Dacotahs.

"Wed a maiden of your people,"
Warning said the old Nokomis ;
"Go not eastward, go not westward,

For a stranger, whom we know not.
Like a fire upon the hearthstone
Is a neighbor's homely daughter;
Like the starlight, or the moonlight,
Is the handsomest of strangers."
Thus dissuading spake Nokomis,
And my Hiawatha answered
Only this: "Dear old Nokomis,
Very pleasant is the firelight,
But I like the starlight better,
Better do I like the moonlight."
Gravely then said old Nokomis,
"Bring not here an idle maiden,
Bring not here a useless woman,
Hands unskilful, feet unwilling;
Bring a wife with nimble fingers,
Heart and hand that move together,
Feet that run on willing errands.”
Smiling answered Hiawatha,
"In the land of the Dacotahs
Lives the arrow maker's daughter,
Minnehaha, Laughing Water,
Handsomest of all the women.
I will bring her to your wigwam;
She shall run upon your errands,
Be your starlight, moonlight, firelight,
Be the sunlight of my people."
Still dissuading, said Nokomis,
"Bring not to my lodge a stranger
From the land of the Dacotahs.
Very fierce are the Dacotahs;

Often there is war between us,
There are feuds yet unforgotten,
Wounds that ache and still may open.”
Laughing answered Hiawatha,
"For that reason, if no other,

Would I wed the fair Dacotah,
That our tribes might be united,
That old feuds might be forgotten,
And old wounds be healed forever."
Thus departed Hiawatha

To the land of the Dacotahs,
To the land of handsome women;
Striding over moor and meadow,
Through interminable forests,
Through uninterrupted silence.
With his moccasons of magic,
At each stride a mile he measured;
Yet the way seemed long before him,
And his heart outran his footsteps;
And he journeyed without resting,
Till he heard the cataract's thunder,
Heard the Falls of Minnehaha
Calling to him through the silence.
"Pleasant is the sound," he murmured,
"Pleasant is the voice that calls me."
On the outskirts of the forest,
Twixt the shadow and the sunshine,
Herds of fallow deer were feeding;
But they saw not Hiawatha.

To his bow he whispered, "Fail not,"
To his arrow whispered, "Swerve not;"
Sent it singing on its errand,

To the red heart of the roebuck;
Threw the deer across his shoulder,
And sped forward without pausing.
At the doorway of his wigwam
Sat the ancient arrow maker,
In the land of the Dacotahs,
Making arrow heads of jasper,
Arrow heads of chalcedony.
At his side, in all her beauty,

Sat the lovely Minnehaha,

Sat his daughter, Laughing Water,
Plaiting mats of flags and rushes.

Of the past the old man's thoughts were,
And the maiden's of the future.
He was thinking, as he sat there,
Of the days when with such arrows
He had struck the deer and bison,
Shot the wild goose, flying southward;
Thinking of the great war parties,
How they came to buy his arrows
Could not fight without his arrows.
Ah, no more such noble warriors
Could be found on earth as they were.
Now the men were all like women,
Only used their tongues for weapons.
She was thinking of a hunter,
From another tribe and country,
Young, and tall, and very handsome,
Who, one morning in the spring-time,
Came to buy her father's arrows,
Sat and rested in the wigwam,
Lingered long about the doorway,
Looking back as he departed.
She had heard her father praise him,
Praise his courage, and his wisdom :
Would he come again for arrows
To the Falls of Minnehaha?

On the mat her hands lay idle,

And her eyes were very dreamy.

Through their thoughts they heard a footstep,

Heard a rustling in the branches,

And with glowing cheek and forehead,

With the deer upon his shoulders,
Suddenly from out the woodlands,
Hiawatha stood before them.