In his face a stony firmness;

On his brow the sweat of anguish

Started, but it froze and fell not.

Into the vast and vacant forest

On his snowshoes strode he forward.

Scene shifts, showing Hiawatha in a dense forest, with trees covered with snow and ice, hunting food for Minnehaha, becoming discouraged, he sits down on a log or rock, ponders and talks to himself.

Hiawatha, despondently, ruminating,

Lo! how all things fade and perish!

From the memory of the old men

Pass away the great traditions,