Traditions of the North American Indians, Vol. 3 | Page 5

are the scalps on his pole[H]-- In my smoke are nine; I have fought with a Cherokee; I have stricken a warrior's blow, Where the waves of Ontario roll; I have borne my lance where he dare not go; I have looked on a stunted pine In the realms of endless frost, And the path of the Knisteneau And the Abenaki crost. While the Red Oak planted the land, It was mine to lead the band."
Then fiercely answer'd the rival Brave, And bitter strife arose; Loud and angry words, Noisy boasts and taunts, Menaces and blows, These foolish men each other gave; And each like a panther pants For the blood of his brother chief; Each himself with his war-club girds, And forth he madly goes, His wrath and ire to wreak; But the warriors interpose. Thenceforth they met as two eagles meet, When food but for one lies dead at their feet, And neither dare be the thief: Each is prompt to show his ire; The eye of each is an eye of fire, And trembles each hand to give The last and fatal blow; And thus my brother may see them live With the feelings that wolf-dogs know.
And when each of these brave men Had built himself a lodge, And each had a bird in his nest, And each had a babe at his knee, Their hate had no abatement known, Still each was his brother's enemy. And thirsted for his blood. And when those babes had grown, The one to be a man In stature, years, and soul, With a warrior's eye and brow, And his poll a shaven poll[I], And his step as a wild colt's free, And his voice like the winter wind, Or the roaring of the sea; The other a maiden ripe, With a woman's tender heart, Full of soft and gentle wishes, Sighs by day and dreams by night, Their hostile fathers bade them roam Together no more o'er the rocky dell, And through the woody hollow, And by the river brink, And o'er the winter snows, Nor sit for hours by the summer rill, To watch the stag as he came to drink, And to see the beaver wallow, Nor when the waters froze, Have a pleasant sport to follow, O'er the smooth ice; they bade them shun, Each other as the stars the sun.
What did they then--this youth and maid? Did they their fathers mind?-- I will tell my brother.-- They met--in secret met'Twas not in the rocky dell, Nor in the woody hollow, Nor by the river brink, Nor o'er the winter snows, Nor by the summer rill, Watching the stag as he came to drink, And to see the beaver wallow, That these two lovers met, Nor when the waters froze, Giving good sport to follow: But, when the sky was mild, And the moon's pale light was veil'd, And hushed was every breeze, In prairie, village, and wild, And the bittern had stayed his toot, And the serpent had ceased his hiss, And the wolf forgot his howl, And the owl forbore his hoot, And the plaintive wekolis[J], And his neighbour, the frog, were mute-- Then would my brother have heard A plash like the dip of a water-fowl, In the lake with mist so white, And the smooth wave roll to the bank, And have seen the current stirr'd By something that seemed a White Canoe, Gliding past his troubled view.
And thus for moons they met By night on the tranquil lake, When darkness veils the earth; Nought care they for the wolf, That stirs the brake on the bank; Nought that the junipers shake With the weight of the nimble bear, Nor that bitterns start by tens, Nor to hear the cayman's plash, Nor the hoot of the owl in the boughs of the ash, Where he sat so calm and cool: And thus each night they met, And thus a summer pass'd.
Autumn came at length, With all its promised joys, Its host of glittering stars, Its fields of yellow corn, Its shrill and healthful winds, Its sports of field and flood. The buck in the grove was sleek and fat, The corn was ripe and tall; Grapes clustered thick on the vines; And the healing winds of the north Had left their cells to breathe On the fever'd cheeks of the Roanokes, And the skies were lit by brighter stars Than light them in the time of summer. Then said the father of the maid, "My daughter, hear-- A bird has whispered in my ear, That, often in the midnight hour, They who walk in the shades, The murky shades, dim, dark shades, Shades of the cypress, pine, and yew, That tower above the glassy lake, Will see glide past their troubled view Two