Chapter I: The Song of Lappilatwan, the Singer in the Dusk

_Piʿche Lappilatwan mechimiu-olamto
Wʾtagwsiu-ut msiu sipsis._[62]

Lappilatwan, fair tree-fungus,
From days of old,
The ever good-natured,
Of all the birds cousin.
Dwelt on the birch-tree;
All the birds of the forest,
Even the little insects,
Even the little worms,
Crawled up the great birch
To see their good friend.

Thus always at sunset
They heard him singing:
_Lappilatwan
Wappilatwan
Wechkutonébit_,
“Fair tree-fungus,
Fair tree-fungus,
Sits with mouth open,”
The signal song
Unto all wood birds,
Worms and insects,
To go to sleep;
So that all the birds,
Little worms, little insects,
When they heard
_Lappilatwan
Wappilatwan_
Knew he was silent
For all the night
There where he hung
In the cold birch tree,
Cold, rough and damp,
All night, all day!
All through the year.
But when the day dawns
His song rings again;
_Lappilatwan
Wechkutonébit_,
“Fair tree-fungus
Fair tree-fungus
Sits with mouth open.”
Then every bird
Every small insect,
All creeping things
Who heard his song,
Knew there was coming
A beautiful day:
“Let us arise!
The daylight is breaking!”
They rose at his call.

One bright fresh morning,
Lively Sexkâtû
The flying squirrel
Climbed the great birch-tree,
And there he found
Lappilatwan
From a branch hanging,
And he thus spoke;
“Tell me how long
Have you dwelt here?”
“I have lived in this tree
Since your great grandfather
_Kʾchî Kʾmûsums_
Was born on that cedar
From which you came
Early this morning.”

“But tell me truly,
Lappilatwan,
How long will you
Dwell in this birch-tree?”

“While the birch-tree
Sends forth its leaves,
While its trunk stands,
I will dwell in its branches.”
Sexkâtû the squirrel
Wanted that birch-tree
For his own home:
He would be nesting
In that same place.
Thus he then answered:
“You have been here
Long--and far _too_ long.
It is time for you
To yield to another:
Let me come here!”

Lappilatwan
Answered him quietly:
“_Noses_, ‘my grandchild:’
I cannot go hence.
If I should do so
Birds and the insects
Could not hear me call.
Could not hear my songs
From another tree;
You, who are so clever,
Far quicker than I am.
You can make your home
All over the forest.”

“You must go!” said Sexkâtû,
Then he gnawed at the branch;
There was the nest
Of the Hamw[´ĕ]sŭk,
Of the stinging wasps,
Who came swarming out
From their little wigwam;
More than a hundred,
Flew at Sexkâtû
Clung to his back
Madly they stung him,
Till stunned with their stinging
Saucy Sexkâtû
Fell to the ground.
Well nigh a-dyin,
With stings and with bruises.

Ere long the news spread,
Soon all the squirrels
Said: “_Sexkâtûwuk
Kʾputwusin_,”
“Let us take council.”
Red squirrels, gray squirrels,
Striped squirrels, flying ones,
Came running together,
Then they cried out:
“Lappilatwan
Must leave his tree,
And if it may be,
Be put to death!”

All in a band
They went to the birch-tree,
Then they observed that
In one way only
Could they approach
Lappilatwan.
Straight up the trunk
Not many together.

The news spread afar,
Soon there came flying
The wasps and the hornets,
The bees and the black flies,
The angry mosquitoes:
Even the midges,
The little Chessúyek
Came to the rescue
Of Lappilatwan.
The chief of the squirrels
Gave out the order:
“Let the battle begin!”
The squirrels rushed onward
They rushed to the birch-tree:
Yet only a few
At once together
Could climb up the trunk:
Musesaaqua, the horse-fly,
Was brave in that battle.
Mosquitoes and midges
Like gallant warriors
Rushed on the squirrels,
With their sharp spears.
Ere the first squirrel
Was half-way up the birch-tree,
He and his followers
Fell to the ground
Wounded and dying.

Lappilatwan
High up on the birch-tree
Saw the battle rage,
But was ever silent,
Silent till sunset;
Then his loud song
Rang through the forest:
“_Lappilatwan
Wechkûtonébit_.”
“Fair tree-fungus
Sits with mouth open.”

Soon as they heard it
All of the warriors,
Squirrels and insects
Valiant mosquitoes,
Humble hornets,
Bold bumble-bees,
Wild whizzing wasps,
Gallant merry midges
Went to their wigwams.
Lappilatwan
Had faith in his warriors:
Truly he trusted
That they could defend him.

When in the morning
They heard the signal,
The song of awaking,
Ring from the birch-tree,
The mighty armies
Again assembled;
The chiefs held council;
Thus spoke Sexkâtû
While all were silent:

“Listen, oh squirrels!
Last night in dreaming
This was revealed to me:
If in the battle
One of your warriors
Can touch for an instant
Lappilatwan
Ever so lightly,
Before he sings us
The summons to sleep,
Then we shall conquer;
Failing to touch him
Ere we hear ringing
‘_Lappilatwan
Wappilatwan_’
We are defeated.
Now you have heard me,
On to the birch-tree!”

The angry flies
Sharpen their spears;
Dip them in poison;
Loud was their buzz!

As they went to battle,
Terrible slaughter
Followed their onrush;
Desperate squirrels
Heedless of death
Clung to the birch-tree
Wingèd warriors
By many thousands
Swarmed on the foe;
Many a horse-fly
Beheld no more
His wife and children;
Many a hornet
Sat no more
By the fire of his wigwam;
The dying bumble-bee
Chanted his death song.

Dire was the slaughter,
Full thrice greater
Than on the first day;
Still they rushed onward,
Fiercer for battle,
Giving no heed
That the day was ending;
Never observing
The sun down-sinking,
When over the forest
Rang loud the summons:
“_Lappilatwan
Wappilatwan_.”

All was over.
High on the birch-tree
Untouched by a foeman--
Sat the watchman--
The flies were victorious!

This poem is like Homer’s Batrachomyomachia, the battle of the frogs and mice, as sung by some Icelandic bard. The humor is as Greek as the form is Norse. L.

FOOTNOTES:

[62] Long ago, Lappilatwan, always good-natured, was cousin of all the birds. These lines indicate the measure to which the whole was sung; _i.e._, they are a “staff-rhyme.”