Appendix IV: a visit to Hiawatha's peopleThe following narrative of the reception given to the Longfellow family by the Ojibway Indians was prepared by Miss Alice M. Longfellow for the Riverside Literature Series, and is used by permission. When the idea of writing an Indian poem began first to take form in Mr. Longfellow's mind, he followed the adventures of Manabozho (a mythical character, whose exploits figure largely in all Ojibway legends) and gave his name to the poem; but feeling the need of some expression of the finer and nobler side of the Indian nature, he blended the supernatural deeds of the crafty sprite with the wise, noble spirit of the Iroquois national hero, and formed the character of Hiawatha.  Early in the last century the scattered bands of the Ojibways who had their home near Lake Superior and Lake Huron, with their principal village at Garden River in Algoma, not far from Sault Ste. Marie, were ruled over by Chief Shingwauk, a ruler of force and character. He held the remnants of the tribe together, cherished their national pride, and laid great stress on the importance of preserving the national legendary history. He imbued his son Bukwujjinini with the same feeling, and carefully instructed him in all the legendary lore of his people. Bukwujjinini became thus well versed in these legends, and it was from him that Mr. Schoolcraft, who had married an Indian woman, received them, turning them into English and printing them in his great work on the Indians. The old chief was a fine specimen of the aboriginal red man, dignified, wise, and thoughtful, and deeply beloved by his people. He selected his nephew, George Kabaoosa—or Daguagonay—as his successor in continuing the legendary history of his people, constantly repeating to him all he had heard from his father, and this Kabaoosa is now engaged in writing out all these legends to preserve them for posterity. In addition to his knowledge of these tales from his uncle's lips, Kabaoosa had heard the poem of ‘Hiawatha’ read by his Sunday-school teacher in his youth. In the winter of 1900 a band of Ojibway Indians was formed to illustrate Indian life at the Sportsmen's Show in Boston. Among them was the old chief  Bukwujjinini, and one of the inducements he had to take the journey was the hope of visiting the home of the writer who had cared enough for the legends of his people to turn them into poetry. But this could not be, for the old man, who was over ninety, fell ill, and died on the very day the Indians were to set forth, and they took their journey without their father, and with genuine sorrow in their hearts. For some time the Canadian gentleman who arranged the expedition had been cherishing the idea of training the Indians to perform scenes from ‘Hiawatha’ in the forest on the shores of the ‘big sea water.’ Kabaoosa readily fell in with this scheme, and after the visit of the Indians to Mr. Longfellow's home in Cambridge the plan rapidly matured, and a formal invitation was sent to Mr. Longfellow's family to be present at the representation as guests of the Indians. The invitation was written on birch bark, in Ojibway, and was as follows—
 The invitation was cordially accepted, and in August the party of guests, twelve in all, left the train at Desbarats on the north shore of Lake Huron; there they were met by the Indians in full costume, and in sailboat and canoes they set forth for the little rocky island, which had been prepared for them. There was a square stone lodge on the highest part of the island, most picturesquely finished inside and out, with the flag of England floating above it. Surrounding this were several tepees of tanned hide and stained canvas, and nearer the shore two little groups of tents, where two Indian families lived, who cooked and served, sailed the boats, entertained their guests with songs, dancing, and story-telling, doing all with a quiet dignity, ease of manner, and genuine kindliness that removed every difficulty. The play of ‘Hiawatha’ was performed on a rocky, thickly wooded point about two miles away. Near the shore a platform was built around a tall pine-tree, and grouped around this were tepees and wigwams forming the Indian village. Behind this the ground sloped gradually upward, forming a natural amphitheatre. As a prelude to the play a large pile of brushwood was lighted.
And the smoke rose slowly, slowly,Down the hillsides rushed the braves in war-paint and feathers,—
As a signal to the Nations.
Wildly glaring at each other,Then appeared old Nokomis leading by the hand the youthful Hiawatha, and taught him how to shoot the bow and arrow, while the warriors stood around watching and applauding when he hit the mark. The third scene was the journey of Hiawatha in his manhood after his battle with Mudjekeewis, a picturesque figure striding through the woods flecked with sunshine and shadow.
In their hearts the feuds of ages. 
Then upon the ground the warriors
Threw their weapons and their war-gear,
Leaped into the rushing river,
Washed the war-paint from their faces,
And in silence all the warriors
Broke the red stone of the quarry,
Smoothed and formed it into Peace-Pipes.
Only once his pace he slackened,The wigwam of the ancient arrow-maker was placed far from the rest in the shade of the trees, to give an idea of distance. The arrow-maker himself, a very old man, sat by the entrance, cutting arrowheads; his daughter, a modest Indian maiden, stood beside him with downcast eyes, while the stranger paused to talk with her father. This scene was followed by the return of Hiawatha to the land of the Dakotahs. Again the old man sat in the doorway, and by him was Minnehaha, ‘plaiting mats of flags and rushes.’
Paused to purchase heads of arrows
Of the ancient arrow-maker.
Then uprose the Laughing Water,She stood modestly on one side while Hiawatha urged his suit, and then putting her hand in his, she followed him home through the forest. Then came the wedding dances, full of life and spirit, the figures moving always round and round in a circle, with a swaying motion, the feet scarcely lifted from the ground. Under the pine-tree, tall and erect, with head and eyes uplifted, stood the musician, chanting his songs with a strange rhythmical cadence, and accompanying them on the flat Indian drum. The old Nokomis in one corner guarded with a war-club a group of maidens who were dancing all the while, and the braves circling round slyly stole one maiden after another, until Nokomis was left alone. Then followed the caribou dance, the dancers with arms uplifted like horns, knocking and striking one another; the bear dance, with its clumsy, heavy motion; and the snake dance, where the dancers wound and twisted in and out, round and round; and always the singer continued his rhythmic chant. Last came the gambling dance, the favorite with the actors. A mat of rushes was placed on the ground, and on each side kneeled the contestants. At the back stood the old singer, drumming and chanting advice to the players. On each side were grouped the women watching the game, their bodies swaying in time to the music, while the players grew more and more excited, arms, heads, bodies all moving  in perfect rhythm, calling out and shouting as one by one pouches, knives, belts, etc., were passed to the winning side. One side hid a small metal counter under one of two moccasins, while the other side tried to find it. This game was interrupted by a sudden shout, and across the water was seen approaching a canoe, and seated in it the missionary, ‘the black robe chief, the prophet.’ On the shore he was graciously received by Hiawatha, and led to a wigwam for refreshment and repose. Then he addressed the attentive tribes in Ojibway,—
Laid aside her mat unfinished, 
Brought forth food, and set before them,
Gave them drink in bowls of bass wood.