He continued making bows and arrows without number, but he had no heads for his arrows.  At last Noko told him that an old man who lived at some distance could make them.  He sent her to get some.  She soon returned with her conaus, or wrapper, full.  Still he told her he had not enough, and sent her again.  She returned with as many more.  He thought to himself, “I must find out the way of making these heads.”  Cunning and curiosity prompted him to make the discovery.  But he deemed it necessary to deceive his grandmother in so doing.  “Noko,” said he, “while I take my drum and rattle, and sing my war-songs, go and try to get me some larger heads for my arrows, for those you brought me are all of the same size.  Go and see whether the old man cannot make some a little larger.”  He followed her as she went, keeping at a distance, and saw the old artificer at work, and so discovered his process.  He also beheld the old man’s daughter, and perceived that she was very beautiful.  He felt his breast beat with a new emotion, but said nothing.  He took care to get home before his grandmother, and commenced singing as if he had never left his lodge.  When the old woman came near, she heard his drum and rattle, without any suspicion that he had followed her.  She delivered him the arrow-heads.

One evening the old woman said, “My son, you ought to fast before you go to war, as your brothers frequently do, to find out whether you will be successful or not.”  He said he had no objection, and immediately commenced a fast for several days.  He would retire every day from the lodge so far as to be out of the reach of his grandmother’s voice.

After having finished his term of fasting and sung his war-song from which the Indians of the present day derive their custom—­he embarked in his canoe, fully prepared for war.  In addition to the usual implements, he had a plentiful supply of oil.  He traveled rapidly night and day, for he had only to will or speak, and the canoe went.  At length he arrived in sight of the fiery serpents.  He stopped to view them.  He saw they were some distance apart, and that the flame only which issued from them reached across the pass.  He commenced talking as a friend to them; but they answered, “We know you, Hiawatha, you cannot pass.”  He then thought of some expedient to deceive them, and hit upon this.  He pushed his canoe as near as possible.  All at once he cried out, with a loud and terrified voice, “What is that behind you?” The serpents instantly turned their heads, when, at a single word, he passed them.  “Well!” said he, placidly, after he had got by, “how do you like my exploit?” He then took up his bow and arrows, and with deliberate aim shot them, which was easily done, for the serpents were stationary, and could not move beyond a certain spot.  They were of enormous length and of a bright color.

Having overcome the sentinel serpents, he went on in his magic canoe till he came to a soft gummy portion of the lake, called Pigiu-wagumee or Pitchwater.  He took the oil and rubbed it on his canoe, and then pushed into it.  The oil softened the surface and enabled him to slip through it with ease, although it required frequent rubbing, and a constant re-application of the oil.  Just as his oil failed, he extricated himself from this impediment, and was the first person who ever succeeded in overcoming it.