Pennell Institute - Whirlpool Yearbook (Gray, ME)

Page 11 text:

THE WHIRLPOOL Then she saw a brave leap at him From the shelter of a pine tree, Saw him raise his heavy war-club, Then she saw her lover falling, Sinking backward ’mong the bushes. Ah! the awful deed, it woke her! Was it but an idle vision? Yet it troubled and disturbed her, For she felt it was prophetic. Ou the cool gray rock she painted, Drew her true Algonquin’s likeness, Painted there her Indian lover, Painted him as she had seen him, With his many strings of wampuimn And his shining eagle feathers. It was lifelike when ’twas finished, Very best of all her pictures. Then she went back to the wigwam, Waited patiently for evening, Then to seek again the cHil-side There to wait her lover's coming. All the warriors of the village, Were bedecked with gaudy war-paints, Panting, eager for the war-trail. So the braves embarked for battle, And Waneta, always faithful, Sought her clits of many pictures, Heard the ripple of the paddles Die away and lapse in silence, Stood there, watching, watching, waiting With a sinking heart her lover. Then she sought her lover's picture, Gazing at it in the moonlight, Dropped upon the ground beside it, Fell asleep there in the silence. In her dreams she saw Sebago, Deep and lovely Lake Sebago, Saw the blue-green rippling water, Sparkling, shining in the moonlight. Far away on Lake Sebago, Sailing down a path of moonlight Like a long and graceful shadow Came a white canoe and slender.

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TILE WITRLPOOL Wampum strings, her lover's totem. Now she wished to paint her pictures Where the rock was smoothest, sheerest, Rising out of Lake Sebago Straight and steep as falls a raindrop. Growing on the rocky terrace, Clinging to its smooth gray edges, Drooped a mass of strong wild grapevines. Touching the vine, she was thinking Wondering if the vine would hold her, Trustingly she stepped upon it, Clinging to its strongest branches. Painted she her lover's wigwam, Then beside the lonely dwelling Painted many other pictures, Now at last all was completed, All was ready for her sweetheart. Now she stood upon the terrace, Gazing at her work completed, Then she went back to the village. There the warriors were preparing For the war with the Algonquins, All their war-gear had been mustered, Mustered ready for departing. And Waneta could not stop them Though she pleaded with her father. But the haughty Indian chieftain Would not listen to his daughter. Passed Waneta to the clif-side And sat down upon the ledges. All was still about the forests And the lake was at its calmest. Soon she shumbered in the quiet, Dropped asleep in the pale moonlight. In the land of dreams she wandered Far away across Sebago, In that other land and country. Now she heard the din of battle. Saw the awfulness of fighting. Then she saw her true young lover, All resplendent in his war-gear, Round his neck were strings of wampum: On his head were eagle feathers.

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10 THE WHIRLPOOL As the lovely craft drew nearer, In the stern she saw her lover, In his hands a silver paddle, Rising, falling in the moonlight, Dripping with the sparkling water Of the moonpatlh’s molten silver. Now she saw her lover clearer, Coming nearer, beckoning to her; And she rose and went to meet him. Meanwhile “mongst the fierce Algonquins, Tribesmen of the Wabanaki, Fighting bravely to the finish, Fighting hard to kill the leader, Bravest of Algonquin warriors. Ah! at last a brave has seen hin, Standing in a place of vantage In the woods of the Algonqnins, And the brave who thus had seen him Crept up to him, slowly, surely, Catlike were his stealthy movements; Very, very careful was he, For he knew that fame would greet him Tf he killed that famous warrior, And he knew that the Algonquins Would lose heart and fail without him. So he crept up nearer, nearer, Till at last he stood close by him, Like a wildcat leaped and struck him, Saw him fall among the bushes, Then he rushed to tell his chieftain Of the life that he had ended, Of the foeman'’s wily warrior, Best of all Algonquin warriors. Thus they killed Waneta’s lover And subdued the fierce Algonquins. Then returned across Sebago From their victory triumphant. Now the chief, Madockawando, Would return and tell his daughter Of the battle and the vict’ry. When they neared the sandy lake-shore, He beheld upon the cliff-side Many strange and darksome objects,