The neyhom's mantle did his shoulders grace, XXII. Mute were the chiefs and seemed to meditate; And close behind him came his watchful guide. And did the earth beneath their numbers hide ; They sit, kneel, stand, or climb the forest boughs, Till all around the live enclosure grows. XXIII. When ceased the crowd to stir, and died their hum, Sire Williams rose; XXIV. a thousand staring eyes Were on him fixed; a thousand ears were spread To catch his words, whilst all around him lies That mass of life hushed in a calmness dread, Like that of dark Ontario, when the skies Are mustering their tempests overhead; And the round moon looks through the gathering storm And, glassed mid tempest shapes, beholds her form. * The neyhom, or wild turkey. See note. XXV. He paused a while; at last he thus began: ! Which flourished like their leaves, and past away; Why war ye, then, upon a life so brief! Why fill its little span with wretchedness and grief? XXVI. But they who seek the pure unmingled goods For this from persecution's brands I flew, And left my friends, my kindred, and my home, Through stormy skies and snowy wilds to roam. XXVII. "Some thoughts of mine, that the Great Spirit might Rule better His own kingdom than frail men, Awoke the anger of my brothers white, And sent me forth to seek some far-off glen, Where I, unharmed, my council fire might light, And share its freedom with my kindred, when Under the tree of peace, the red men should Smoke the white pipe in friendly neighborhood. XXVIII. On Seekonk's eastern marge I chose a glade, That all Coweset was in arms arrayed Against that chief, and, had the dance begun ; Then paused your brother for he would not bring His friends to sit beneath the hatchet's swing. XXIX. "Then did he take Haup's calumet to crave That peace between the hostile nations be; Not that the Wampanoag warriors brave Sought from the Narraganset storm to flee; But that no guilty stain, on Seekonk's wave, Rebuke the Pokanoket Chief or thee, The work, perchance, of darts from heedless bows, Confounding pale-faced friends with warring foes. XXX. "My motives these; now let the wise chief tell What wrongs he suffers; what redress he seeks. Do not his buried kindred slumber well? What murdered victim's ghost for vengeance shrieks Sends through the echoing woods the warrior's yell, And from its iron sleep the hatchet wakes? Or does some impious tongue his anger brave, By speaking names made sacred by the grave?" XXXI. Then passed a murmur through that concourse wide, And man on man cast the inquiring eye; At length the old chief laid his pipe aside, And, musing, sate, as pondering his reply; Then slowly rose, and drew the pluméd hide From his right shoulder, and, with stature high, Stretched forth his long bare arm and shriveled hand, And pointing round the sky-encircled land; XXXII. "As far," he said, and solemn was his tone, XXXIII. "Yes, ere he came, Pocasset's martial band Did at our bidding come to fight the foe, And the tall warriors of the Nipnet land Rushed with swift foot to bend our battle bow; And e'en the dog of Haup did cringing stand Beside our wigwam, and his tribute show. Then we were strong-we fought the Maquas fell, And laughed to hear the bordering Pequot's yell. XXXIV. 'But, Yengee, hear: The pale-faced strangers came ; Haup's dog forgot the Narraganset name, And ate the the offal cast from white men's doors, Moved at their heels, and after him he drew The strong Pocassets, and the Nipnets too. XXXV. "Then the fierce Pequots on our borders broke, We sent the belt to claim the accustomed aid; The rebel chiefs the angry hatchet shook -- They were the Yengee's men, not ours, they said; We stood alone; and, like a steadfast rock, Turned back the torrent to its fountain head, Which else had swept those sluggard tribes away, That by Awanux' wigwam slumbering lay. XXXVI. "These are our wrongs, and who can ever mend Against the common foe our warriors spend Their blood like rivers - - who can wake the slain ? the wounds for other men endured Heal up Give back the blood which has their rest secured?" XXXVII. The Sachem ceased, and mingled murmurs ran "He speaks a manittoo! Base Wampanoag! we'll devour that clan, And drive the Yengees back o'er ocean blue!" XXXVIII. "Brother," said Williams, "thou art old and wise, And know'st the pipe is better than the dart. The barb can drink the blood of enemies; But the pipe's conquest is the foeman's heart; It gives to us his strength and energies, And makes the Pequot from our path depart. This, to the good, gives triumph long and just — That, to the bad, a victory over dust. |