Day-yu-da-gont: a Poem/Day-yu-da-gont

by John Wentworth Sanborn

Layout 2

Day-yu-da-gont

Day-yu-da-gont

WILD weird tale I've heard the Indians tell,Of Day-yu-da-gont and her magic spell.

"Brilliant and sparkling" her name signifies—True index of her character and eyes.

As crystal water flashes forth the lightAs diamond stars illume the brow of Night:

So Day-yu-da-gont by her matchless grace,Shed lustrous glory on her dusky race.

An old man and his nephew dwelt together:And fished and hunted in all sorts of weather.

One morn their traps were full. The fish and gameThey marveled at! Some witch had made them tame.

Fat steak of bears, plump birds, rich furs and deer,In heaps before the wigwam, brought good cheer.

While resting from their toil, a sudden cry,As of a child in great distress hard by,

Astonished them! Against an old oak tree,They found, on searching, something strange to see—

A baby girl! with eyes as bright as stars,Enwrapped in curling bark, with twigs for bars!

She smiled, and moved the nephew's tender heart."I'll. care for you," he said, "and share a part

Of all my game with you, till you are grown."He'd not have promised this it he had known

His uncle's mind. He took the baby up,And hurried to the wigwam, helped her sup

From out his ladle: stirred the dying fire.In came the uncle.—All his slumburing ire

Awoke "My nephew, drive her out!" In vainThe nephew pleaded, "She will help us gain

An easier living; she will hoe the maize,Supply our fire"—"My nephew, if she stays

"I'll kill her! Get her out! tell her to go!"At daylight she had gone. In feathery snow

She left a woman's track. By night she'd blown.Like opening flower, to womanhood, and flown.

"Well, uncle, she has gone, and let her go!What bad luck she'd have made us we don't know."

She sang a song, and all the beasts and birdsWent after her, charmed by her magic words.

The whole creation flocked where'er she sang;With not a wild bird's note the forest rang.

No squirrel chattered: not a creature stayed:Untimely twilight fell with deep'ning shade.

With empty traps the two were left alone,For heartlessness to Day-yu-da-gont shown.

They starved and died, and wild birds picked their bones,And He-no^[1] strung a necklace of their groans.

"Now I'll become a babe again and cry,And capture me a husband by and by."

Thus Day-yu-da-gont mused. Against a treeShe leaned her cradle where no eye could see.

A trapper and his nephew in those partsThere chanced to live; on them she tried her arts.

Homeward at th' end of a laborious day,With bursting packs they slowly made their way.

While resting from their toil, a sudden cry,As of a child in great distress hard by,

Astonished them. Against a hemlock treeThey found, on searching, something strange to see—

A baby girl, with eyes as bright as stars,Enwrapped in curling bark with twigs for bars.

She smiled, and touched and melted both their hearts;This time successful with her magic arts.

The uncle whispered, "Nephew, we shall seeGood luck; we'll hunt and fish, and trap, and she

Will plant our maize, prepare our wood and meat,Our soup, parched corn, and all things good to eat.

We'll shelter her, and shield her from the storm,Wrap her in choicest furs to keep her warm."

So planned they, while the soup—a savory lot—The nephew ladled out, now steaming hot.

But first they fed the babe. The Indians' guestIs served alone, and then they feed the rest.

Next morning when the wigwam floor was swept,The nephew, eager, to the cradle crept,—

And lo! no babe! but full-grown woman there!Of fascinating grace, and queenly air.

"My nephew, she's your wife! thus Indians wed;I'm very glad she's come," the uncle said.

The nephew was delighted: so was she."In this arrangement we can all agree."

While both the men were looking to their traps,With white stone from her pack she gave sharp raps

On massive trees, and, with a magic sweep,Piled fire-wood up in one broad pond'rous heap!

The men returned, but every trap was lean.All day they hunted, but no game was seen.

They neared the wigwam. Day-yu da gont sang,And all the forest with the music rang.

The birds were moved; they chirped. The eagles screamed.With moles and squirrels swift the woodpile teem'd.

She louder sang, and sweeter than before:A whir of wings, and universal roar

Of beasts throughout the forest, hurrying near,Fell doubtfully upon the uncle's ear.

"Now shoot the game as far as you can see,"Said Day-yu-da-gont. "ere the beasts shall flee."

They plied their arrows thick and fast as hail.They chased the game through many a well-worn trail.

The crowded traps that met their wondering gaze.For Day-yu-da-gont filled their mouths with praise.

They had enough. At once she ceased her song.And into wild, dark solitudes, the throng

Of birds and beasts each took their several way.Thus Day-yu-da-gont gave reward that day.

For kindly treatment to a helpless child,Out in the forest desolate and wild.

As crystal water flashes back the light,As diamond stars illume the brow of Night.

So Day-yu-da-gont, by her matchless grace,Shed lustrous glory on her dusky race.

1. He-no was the Indian Spirit who handled the thunder-bolts and brought the storms.