’Twas Summer.  The merry-voiced birds
          trilled and warbled in woodland and meadow;
And abroad on the prairies the herds
          cropped the grass in the land of the lilies,—­
And sweet was the odor of rose
          wide-wafted from hillside and heather;
In the leaf-shaded lap of repose
          lay the bright, blue-eyed babes of the summer;
And low was the murmur of brooks,
         and low was the laugh of the Ha-Ha; [76]
And asleep in the eddies and nooks
          lay the broods of maga [60]and the mallard. 
’Twas the moon of Wasunpa. [71]
          The band lay at rest in the tees at Ka-tha-ga,
And abroad o’er the beautiful land
          walked the spirits of Peace and of Plenty—­
Twin sisters, with bountiful hand
          wide scattering wild-rice and the lilies.
An-pe-tu-wee[70] walked in the west—­
          to his lodge in the far-away mountains,
And the war-eagle flew to her nest
          in the oak on the Isle of the Spirit.[U]
And now at the end of the day,
          by the shore of the Beautiful Island,[V]
A score of fair maidens and gay
          made joy in the midst of the waters. 
Half-robed in their dark, flowing hair,
          and limbed like the fair Aphrodite,
They played in the waters, and there
          they dived and they swam like the beavers,
Loud-laughing like loons on the lake
          when the moon is a round shield of silver,
And the songs of the whippowils wake
          on the shore in the midst of the maples.

But hark!—­on the river a song,—­
          strange voices commingled in chorus;
On the current a boat swept along
          with DuLuth and his hardy companions;
To the stroke of their paddles they sung,
          and this the refrain that they chanted: 

  “Dans mon chemin j’ai rencontre
   Deux cavaliers bien montes. 
     Lon, lon, laridon daine,
     Lon, lon, laridon da.”

  “Deux cavaliers bien montes;
   L’un a cheval, et l’autre a pied. 
     Lon, lon, laridon daine,
     Lon, lon, laridon da."[W]

[U] The Dakotas say that for many years in olden times war-eagles made their nests in oak trees on Spirit-island—­Wanagi-wita, just below the Falls till frightened away by the advent of white men.

[V] The Dakotas called Nicollet Island Wi-ta Waste—­the Beautiful Island.

[W] A part of one of the favorite songs of the French voyageurs.

[Illustration:  ARRIVAL OF DULUTH AT KATHAGA]

Like the red, dappled deer in the glade
          alarmed by the footsteps of hunters,
Discovered, disordered, dismayed,
          the nude nymphs fled forth from the waters,
And scampered away to the shade,
          and peered from the screen of the lindens.