IROQUOIS MYTHS AND LEGENDS l8l 



The night is not friendly ; 

 She closes her eyelids ; 

 The moon has forgot us, 

 We wait in the darkness ! 



There is a short pause, the chiefs take their rattles, and the in- 

 vitation song begins, the chanter singing alone, the chiefs softly 

 shaking their rattles in rhythm with his voice, and the members of 

 the clans in turn responding to the " invitations " by imitating the 

 call or cry of their animal totem. 



Preceding this song the cry of the whip-poor-will, the bird pro- 

 tector that guided the chief on his journey, is wondrously imitated 

 by the flute player. 



As literally as possible I translate : 



The invitation song 



Ha wa ga na hoe 



Ha wa gah nae 



Na ho oh ha na 



Ga na ho hi-e-e-e-e-eh ! 



So says the whip-poor-will 

 Follow me, follow me! 

 So says the chief to him, 

 Yes I will follow thee ! 



See the night darkening ; 

 The shadows are hiding, 

 No light to follow for, 

 So says the waterfall, 

 So sings the river voice ! 



Someone is nearing me, 

 Soft he comes creeping here, 

 Two eyes glare close to me, 

 Lighting the forest path — 

 Hear how his breath blows by ! 



Fol-low me, fol-low me, — 

 So sings the whip-poor-will ! 

 Yes I am following, — 

 So the chief answers him. 



Cries announce that the Wolf and his mate have entered the room. 



Here there is a rest interval; the lamp is lighted, the sweet 



strawberry water is passed, pipes are smoked and the conversation 



