Many Many Moons/The Conjurer
THE CONJURER
To be chanted.
Come ye, spirits three!
Out of the East, out of the West, out of the North!
Rise ye, ma-ni-do, from your weég-a-wams
In the corners of the earth!
Blow, blow, blow thy raging tempests
Through the ranks of whining pine!
Come ye! Come ye to my chée-sah-kán
Riding on thy crazy-running winds.
Hear! Hear my potent chantings!
Bestow me the strength to work my conjurings!
Hi! Take ye my good medicine,
This precious skin of the jumping-rat
Killed in the hour when death,
When purple death walked into my lodge,—
And three moons, three moons dried
On the grave of my youngest son.
Hi! Hear me! Hear me, má-ni-dó!
Come ye, spirits three!
Out of the East, out of the West, out of the North!
Rise ye, ma-ni-do, from your weég-a-wams
In the corners of the earth!
Blow, blow, blow thy raging tempests
Through the ranks of whining pine!
Come ye! Come ye to my chée-sah-kán
Riding on thy crazy-running winds.
Hear! Hear my potent chantings!
Bestow me the strength to work my conjurings!
Hi! Take ye my good medicine,
This precious skin of the jumping-rat
Killed in the hour when death,
When purple death walked into my lodge,—
And three moons, three moons dried
On the grave of my youngest son.
Hi! Hear me! Hear me, má-ni-dó!
Come ye, spirits three!
Out of the East, out of the West, out of the North!
Hi! Blow, blow, blow thy whirling winds!
Sway my wigwam, sway it
With the breathings of the cyclone!
Hi! Bend its birchen poles
Like the reeds in yonder bay!
Hi! Clutch my teepee, bend it
'Till its peak shall scrape the ground!
Hear me! Hear me, ma-ni-do! . . .
·····
Brokenly, con-
versationally, in
an "aside" to
the audience.
How! How!
Behold! my friends, it bends
Like a lily in the storm!
·····
To be chanted.
Come ye, spirits three!
Out of the East, out of the West, out of the North!
On the wings of the wind send into my lodge
The lean spirit of a lean coyote—
Of the dying prairie wolf whose whimperings
We followed many sleeps across the desert.
Make him, má-ni-dó, fling up again
His last long mournful wailings
When thirst and hunger clutched
His withered aching throat—
That the old men of my tribe may hear
Again his ghostly callings as of old.
Hear me! Hear me, má-ni-dó! . . .
·····
Conversa-
tionally in an
"aside".
How! How!
Ho! There is a power
In my precious ratskin!
·····
To be chanted.
Come ye, spirits three!
Out of the East, out of the West, out of the North!
On the wings of the wind send into this lodge
The spirit of Sings-in-the-Hills
Who walked to his death in his birch canoe
Over the falls of the Cut-Foot Waters.
Blow his spirit into my lodge,
That his aged father who sits without
May hear his voice again.
Hear me! Hear me, má-ni-dó!
Make his ghost to talk from my lodge
That the people who watch my juggling
May know his voice again. . . .
·····
Conver-
sationally.
How! How!
Hear, my people?
My medicine-skin is strong with power!
·····
To be chanted.
Hear ye, spirits three!
Go ye back to thy weég-a-wams
In the corners of the earth!
Into the East, into the West, into the North!
Leash again the wolves of the wind. . . .
To thee, O Má-ni-dó of the East,
This handful of burning balsam
Which I fling on the dying wind;
To thee, O Má-ni-dó of the West,
This handful of yellow medicine,
Powder of precious clays;
To thee, O Má-ni-dó of the North,
This red-willow twig whereon I have rubbed
My potent medicine ratskin.
Go ye back, ye má-ni-dó,
To the corners of the earth!
Hah-eeee-yóoooooooooooo!
·····
Conver-
sationally.
How!
Enter ye the teepee, my friends!
Unbind ye the basswood cords from my body!
I am done!
How! How!
Out of the East, out of the West, out of the North!
Hi! Blow, blow, blow thy whirling winds!
Sway my wigwam, sway it
With the breathings of the cyclone!
Hi! Bend its birchen poles
Like the reeds in yonder bay!
Hi! Clutch my teepee, bend it
'Till its peak shall scrape the ground!
Hear me! Hear me, ma-ni-do! . . .
·····
Brokenly, con-
versationally, in
an "aside" to
the audience.
How! How!
Behold! my friends, it bends
Like a lily in the storm!
·····
To be chanted.
Come ye, spirits three!
Out of the East, out of the West, out of the North!
On the wings of the wind send into my lodge
The lean spirit of a lean coyote—
Of the dying prairie wolf whose whimperings
We followed many sleeps across the desert.
Make him, má-ni-dó, fling up again
His last long mournful wailings
When thirst and hunger clutched
His withered aching throat—
That the old men of my tribe may hear
Again his ghostly callings as of old.
Hear me! Hear me, má-ni-dó! . . .
·····
Conversa-
tionally in an
"aside".
How! How!
Ho! There is a power
In my precious ratskin!
·····
To be chanted.
Come ye, spirits three!
Out of the East, out of the West, out of the North!
On the wings of the wind send into this lodge
The spirit of Sings-in-the-Hills
Who walked to his death in his birch canoe
Over the falls of the Cut-Foot Waters.
Blow his spirit into my lodge,
That his aged father who sits without
May hear his voice again.
Hear me! Hear me, má-ni-dó!
Make his ghost to talk from my lodge
That the people who watch my juggling
May know his voice again. . . .
·····
Conver-
sationally.
How! How!
Hear, my people?
My medicine-skin is strong with power!
·····
To be chanted.
Hear ye, spirits three!
Go ye back to thy weég-a-wams
In the corners of the earth!
Into the East, into the West, into the North!
Leash again the wolves of the wind. . . .
To thee, O Má-ni-dó of the East,
This handful of burning balsam
Which I fling on the dying wind;
To thee, O Má-ni-dó of the West,
This handful of yellow medicine,
Powder of precious clays;
To thee, O Má-ni-dó of the North,
This red-willow twig whereon I have rubbed
My potent medicine ratskin.
Go ye back, ye má-ni-dó,
To the corners of the earth!
Hah-eeee-yóoooooooooooo!
·····
Conver-
sationally.
How!
Enter ye the teepee, my friends!
Unbind ye the basswood cords from my body!
I am done!
How! How!