XVIII.

So for a while they two in quietude,

With hopes auspicious, urged their task along, — Lighter of heart; though Williams still would brood, And inly marvel, o'er the missing throng

Of friendly Indians, issuing from the wood

To greet him with "What-Cheer" in voices strong; And oft would wonder if perchance a vain Illusion had beguiled his troubled brain.

XIX.

But omens dark and dire appeared at last :
The grim Pawaw had seen the mansion rise,
Had from Mooshausick's highlands often cast
On the advancing work his watchful eyes;
And often, wafted on the passing blast,

Our Sire had heard that wizard's warning cries: Yet hoped that, baffled and chastised, his pride, And courage too, had with his serpent died.

XX.

Vain hope! The close had scarce been made secure,
Ere Seekonk's western marge was blazing bright,
And decked with horns, and furs, and paints impure,
The prophet with a comrade danced all night
Around the flame, and howling, did adjure
His manittoo that most abhorred the light
To give him aid, and, by or force or fraud,
His hated neighbor drive once more abroad.

XXI.

War! war! he threatened :--and when morning came,

Though quenched the fire,—upon the margin he,

All trim for strife, bent his gigantic frame

O'er Seekonk's severing flow, and toward the lea

Shook his ensanguined barb and smote the stream,
And muttered curses numbering three times three;
Then bent his bow, and sent across the flood
Darts armed with serpents' fangs and red with blood.

XXII.

And brandishing his blade, he jeering said,

That vengeance gave it eyes and appetite,
It soon would eat, but eat in silence dread;
That if the red men all were turning white,
He'd seek the white men that were turning red;
The path was open, and his foot was light;
The Shawmut* hunters would with greedy ear
Hear in what covert couched their stricken deer.

XXIII.

Then, with a hideous yell that rent the skies,

He sternly turned and tow'rd Mooshausick flew. Waban who watched the scene with blazing eyes,

Swift answer gave in shouts of valor true.

From threats like these our Sire might harm surmise,
But that he deemed the wily wizard knew

How heavy was Miantinomi's spear,

And, if 'twere needful, might be made to fear.

XXIV.

But, after this portentous morn, scarce sun
Looked on that glade, but brought them fresh alarms;
If Waban delved the shores or walked thereon,

Missiles around him flew from hidden arms;

His snares were plundered ere the morning shone,

Clubs smeared with blood and threatening deadly harms

Lay in his path, and voices strangely broke
From viewless forms on shrub, or tree, or rock.

*The Indian name for Boston.

XXV.

Oft from the vacant air came bitter jeer

In gibberish strange, and oft from under ground A hellish mockery smote the hunter's ear,

And he would start; but if he glanced around
And Williams saw, he banished every fear;

For well he knew his Sachem could confound
Such diabolic phantoms, he who slew,
In Potowomet's glade, the serpent manittoo.

XXVI.

Then taking courage he would seek the brake,
Cull the straight haft, and arm it with the bone
Or tooth of beaver, and the plumage take

From Neyhom wild to wing and guide it on
Straight to its mark, or with nice handling make
Of sinewy deer the bowstring tough, or hone
His glittering scalping-knife, and grimly feel
How sharp its point, how keen its edge of steel.

XXVII.

At length, no longer heedful of disguise,

Upon the opposing bank the wizard stood, With meet compeer- both armed; their battle cries And challenge fired brave Waban's martial blood; Scorning all counsel, to the marge he flies,

And shoots his arrows o'er the severing flood;

To taunts and jeers his bow alone replies,
And soon their hostile missiles span the skies.

XXVIII.

From tree to tree the champions fly and fight,
Driving or driven from the sheltering screen,
Each change, each movement, yielding to the sight
Their swarthy members through the foliage green;

Whereat their arrows follow, flight on flight,

With hideous yells at every pause between ; Now down the stream now at the tumbling falls, The petty battle raves, and wrath to vengeance calls.

XXIX.

Hour after hour thus raged the doubtful fight,
Until the combatants their shafts had spent ;
Then to the river's marge in peaceful plight,
Bearing the pipe with fumes all redolent,
The fraudful wizard came, as to invite

Across the stream to cheer quite innocent
And friendly league a neighbor and a friend;
"Come, let the pipe," he said, "the battle end.

XXX.

"Waban is brave, and Tatoban is brave; Hereafter let us live as neighbors kind,

And let thy arrows sleep; no more shall rave

This knife and hatchet; Tatoban was blind! "Go!" Waban cried, "thou and thy dastard slave! Go trap the Neyhom, or the foolish hind;

But thinkest thou into thy open snare,
To lure the cunning fox, and slay him there?"

XXXI.

Thus closed the strife that day; another came,
And all was peace; another sun and still
Another rose and set, and still the same

Unbroken peace— no threatening sign of ill:
Quite undisturbed red Waban trapped his game
Or delved the shore-no foe appeared; until
Our Sire believed that he might safely bless
His weary hours with earth's best happiness.

XXXII.

Waban, his only counsellor and friend,
Warrior and subject in this lone domain,
Did now the summons of his chief attend,

And, questioned by him, straightway answered plain. "Waban," said Williams, "do our battles end? Is the war over - have we peace again?

No more on yonder bank the prophet stands
And wings his darts or whirls his blazing brands."

XXXIII.

Waban replied, "Did ever noon-day light

On midnight break? Did ever tempest shed, Just as it gathered, radiance mild and bright? Heard not my Sachem what the prophet said, That if the red men were all turning white,

He'd seek such white men as were turning red?
Perchance he goes, and Waban has a fear
That to his cunning speech they'll lend an ear."

XXXIV.

"Waban, fear not; my pale-faced brethren are

All Christians, or at least would such be thought; And dost thou think that Beelzebub, how fair

Soe'er his speech may be, could move them aught
Against their brother? It is better far,

If it be true such vengeance he have sought,
Than that he lurk among the bushes here,
To fill our days with care and nights with fear.

XXXV.

"But, Waban, I have now a task for thee;

Think not of him; but let thy mind be here. Whilst snows o'erspread the earth and ice the sea, I parted from my wife and children dear;