Happy hunter was the Panther.
From the woods he brought the pheasant,
Brought the red deer and the rabbit,
Brought the trout from Gitchee Gumee--
Brought the mallard from the marshes--
Royal feast for boy and mother:
Brought the hides of fox and beaver,
Brought the skins of mink and otter,
Lured the loon and took his blanket,
Took his blanket for the Raven.
Winter swiftly followed winter,
And again the tekenagun
Held a babe--a tawny daughter,
Held a dark-eyed, dimpled daughter;
And they called her Waub-omee-mee
Thus they named her--the White-Pigeon.
But as winter followed winter
Cold and sullen grew the Panther;
Sat and smoked his pipe in silence;
When he spoke he spoke in anger;
In the forest often tarried
Many days, and homeward turning,
Brought no game unto his wigwam;
Only brought his empty quiver,
Brought his dark and sullen visage.
Sad at heart and very lonely
Sat the Sea-Gull in the wigwam;
Sat and swung the tekenagun
Sat and sang to Waub-omee-mee:
Thus she sang to Waub-omee-mee,
Thus the lullaby she chanted:
Wa-wa, wa-wa, wa-we-yea;
Kah-ween, nee-zheka ke-diaus-ai,
Ke-gah nau-wai, ne-me-go s'ween,
Ne-baun, ne-baun, ne-daun-is ais,
Wa-wa, wa-wa, wa-we-yea;
Ne-baun, ne-baun, ne-daun-is-ais,
E-we wa-wa, wa-we-yea,
E-we wa-wa, wa-we-yea.
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