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YONNONDIO, 
 
 I 
 
 WARRIORS OF THE GENESEE: 
 
 TALE OF THE SEVENTEENTH CENTURY. 
 
 WM. H. C. HOSMER. 
 
 ' 
 
 " From valley broad and mountain's brow 
 Gone are the Aganuschion now." 
 
 NEW- YORK : 
 
 WILEY & PUTNAM. 
 
 ROCHESTER : 
 D. M. DEWEY, 2 ARCADE HALL. 
 
 1844, 
 
 T 
 

 Entered, according to Act of Congress, in the year 1844, 
 
 By WM. H. C. HOSMEB, 
 
 In the Clerk's Office of the District Court for the Northern District of 
 New-York. 
 
 D. HOYT, Printer, 
 No. G State-street, Rochester. 
 
SONNET DEDICATORY. 
 
 Thou hast been, sire, my guardian and my guide, 
 And therefore it is meet that unto thee 
 The few stray leaves should dedicated be 
 
 Which I commit to Fortune's changeful tide : 
 
 Thy voice aroused me from desponding mood, 
 When pale with letter'd toil, as trumpet blast, 
 
 Heard in the watch of midnight, sendeth blood. 
 
 Through veins of startled warrior warm and fast. 
 In Europe's worn-out world I have not sought 
 
 Heroic theme, but in my native vale, 
 Moved by the red man's legendary tale, 
 
 Perchance from Nature's altar-flame have caught 
 One kindling spark and, Father, if my strain 
 Win word of praise from thee, I have not sung in vain. 
 
 948001 
 

PREFACE. 
 
 A friend, on hearing that " Yonnondio" was in press, 
 remarked that it would appear at an unpropitious hour. 
 
 The clamor of contending parties in a great political 
 contest, I am aware, is well calculated to drown the 
 low undertone of a poet's lute ; but the same cause, by 
 distracting the attention of criticism, may render the 
 voice of censure less harsh and loud. 
 
 The Poem is descriptive of events that transpired, 
 in the valley of the Genesee, during the summer and 
 autumn of 1687 of the memorable attempt of the 
 Marquis De Nonville, under pretext of preventing an 
 interruption of the French trade, to plant the standard 
 of Louis XIV. in the beautiful country of the Senecas. 
 
 Impartial history has convicted the Marquis of an 
 open infraction of the treaty made at Whitehall, in the 
 previous year, between Great Britain and France, by 
 which it was settled that the Indian trade in America 
 should remain free to both crowns. 
 
 The Five Nations were in alliance with the former. 
 
 and English parties were cut off on the Lakes, their 
 A2 
 
VI. PREFACE. 
 
 effects seized, and their persons imprisoned, previous 
 to any hostile demonstration on the part of the Senecas. 
 * I shall not apologize to my readers for clothing a 
 stable frame-work of fact with the shifting drapery of 
 fancy it is the bard's prerogative by immemorial 
 usage; nor will I advert to hero and heroines, sum- 
 moned from " Dream Land" further than to say that 
 in Blanche I have endeavored to portray a true-hearted 
 woman strong and faithful in her love, and sustained 
 in the hour of trial by a firm reliance on Heaven. 
 
 D'Lisle, I will admit, is not a fair representative of 
 that famous Order who pioneered the way on this con- 
 tinent, for the march of civilization. Many of Loyola's 
 followers were the messengers of peace and good 
 will to man, though their subtle and dissembling 
 policy was ever to make political proselytes through 
 the agency of religion. 
 
 In conclusion, let me add, that I have essayed to 
 throw the mantle of Romance over the pleasant scenes 
 of my boyhood ; and if my failure has been signal, the 
 most censorious must admit that the design is worthy 
 of commendation. 
 
 AVON, Aug. 24, 1844. 
 
w 
 
 
 PROEM. 
 
 Realm of the Senecas ! no more 
 
 In shadow lies the Pleasant Vale ; 
 G-one are the Chiefs who ruled of yore, 
 
 Like chaff before the rushing gale. 
 Their rivers run with narrowed bounds, 
 Cleared are their broad, old hunting grounds, 
 And on their ancient battle fields 
 The greensward to the ploughman yields ; 
 Like mocking echoes of the hill 
 Their fame resounded and grew still, 
 And on green ridge and level plain 
 Their hearths will never smoke again. 
 When fade away the summer flowers, 
 And come the bright autumnal hours, 
 The ripened grain above their graves 
 Nods to the wind in golden waves. 
 Fled are their pomp and power like dreams, 
 By scribe unmarked, by bard unsung ; 
 But mountains, lakes and rolling streams 
 
s , PROEM. 
 
 Recall their wild rich forest tongue, 
 And names of melody they bear, 
 Sweeter than flute-notes on the air. 
 
 Oblivion swallows, one by one, 
 Old legends by the sire to son 
 
 Around the crackling camp-fire told 
 Their oaks have fallen, trunk and bough, 
 And hut and hall of council now 
 
 Are changed to ashes cold. 
 Toiled have I many a weary day 
 To gather their traditions grey, 
 And rescue from effacing time 
 A few brave deeds and traits sublime. 
 Now listen, for the tale I tell 
 Perchance may be remembered well, 
 Though coarsely framed my sylvan lyre, 
 Harsh its wild tone, untuned its wire ! 
 
 

 YONNONDIO. 
 
 CANTO FIRST. 
 
 THE CAMP. 
 
 Lovely is Summer in old Mother Land, 
 
 Lighting up garden, park and pasture green ; 
 Wrecks of monastic pomp, and castle grand, 
 
 Forever hallowed features of the scene ! 
 But lovelier look the nymph puts on, I ween, 
 
 Amid lone forests of the "Western World, 
 Though brown of visage and untamed of mien 
 
 Moss-fringed her robe her ringlets all uncurled 
 With dew in leafy halls, at noontide hour impearled. 
 
 Oak groves of merry England are renowned 
 In rustic legend and in polished lay ; 
 
 Mort on the horn her early monarchs wound, 
 While bled the stag, beneath their branches gray, 
 
 And still their iron trunks defy decay 
 But rugged woods of our Hesperian clime 
 
10 YONNONDIO. 
 
 Have wider empire : clothed in dark array 
 
 That graced their arches at the birth of Time, 
 When new-born spheres, with song, began their march 
 sublime. 
 
 Through pines that crowned the wooded steep. 
 
 Winds, freshened by the lake were sighing, 
 
 And in his basin, broad and deep, 
 
 Irondequoit was darkly lying. 
 
 A deeper, more luxuriant green, 
 
 In grassy spire and wood-plant seen ; 
 
 A clearer tinkle in the rill, 
 
 And light more lustrous on the hill, 
 
 A richer fragrance in the breeze, 
 
 And wilder, sweeter melodies, 
 
 Told that serene and happy May 
 
 To summer had resigned her sway ; 
 
 That arching sky had caught its hue 
 
 From June's clear orb of radiant blue. 
 
 n. 
 
 Earth was in gala dress arrayed, 
 
 And blushed with flowers the forest mould, 
 While stately tulip trees displayed 
 
 Their honied cups of glistening gold ; 
 
THE CAMP. 11 
 
 Rich robe was over maple flung ; 
 On chestnut golden tassel hung ; 
 Light airs a slumberous tune evoked 
 From leaves that trembling poplar cloaked, 
 And oaks a thicker foliage bore, 
 To canopy the forest floor ; 
 Where open space on hill side lay, 
 Exposed to ripening warmth of day, 
 The sod, with strawberries bestrown, 
 Was tinted like the ruby-stone. 
 
 in. 
 
 Far up the reedy bay were seen 
 
 Bright upland swells with vales between, 
 
 Through which ran brooks of crystal sheen ; 
 
 The lily-stem its silver cup 
 
 Above the water lifted up, 
 
 And throwing on deep pool a shade, 
 
 Waved the long flag its emerald blade ; 
 
 To crumbling marge, with eager cries, 
 
 The heron bore his dripping prize, 
 
 And down the rough uneven bank 
 
 The snorting wild deer came and drank ; 
 
 Amid the reeds that fringed the shore 
 
 The water-rat and otter swam, 
 
 And fearlessly the beaver bore 
 
 His tooth -hewn timber to the dam. 
 
 Wild was the scene ! his ragged cone, 
 
12 YONNONDJO. 
 
 Old mossy hemlock reared on high, 
 
 The forest eagle's lofty throne 
 
 When tired of circling in the sky. 
 
 The mock-bird, perched on bending spray, 
 
 Woke his sweet, imitative lay ; 
 
 With arching neck and air of pride, 
 
 The white swan floated on the tide; 
 
 And gabbling in sequestered cove, 
 
 The black duck oiled her breast, and dove. 
 
 IV. 
 
 East of Irondequoit the scene 
 
 Was rich in robes of living green, 
 
 But ruder charm romantic gaze 
 
 Found on the Western shore to praise ; 
 
 For the huge monarchs of the wood 
 
 In straggling groups disparted stood, 
 
 As if they did not wish to break 
 
 The broad blue prospect of the Lake, 
 
 Their playmate when the rugged earth 
 
 Gave stem and leaf a hardy birth ; 
 
 Whose bath of cool, refreshing spray 
 
 Had wet them many a summer day ; 
 
 Whose surge kept time upon the shore 
 
 When night-blast woke their branches hoar, 
 
 In concert with the hollow roar. 
 
 On naked point of table-land 
 
 That, beetling o'er the polished strana, 
 
THE CAMP. 13 
 
 Commanded view of wave and wood 
 Two natives of the region stood ; 
 And crouching fondly at their feet 
 Graunt wolf dogs panted with the heat. 
 
 v. 
 
 Knives in their braided girdles hung, 
 To which the purple stain yet clung, 
 And pouches grim with dangling claws, 
 Bead-broidered tail and grinning jaws. 
 Rude jewels in the shape of globes, 
 And rings depended from their ears, 
 Slit lengthwise to the pliant lobes ; 
 And twinkled like resplendent tears 
 That morning finds upon the leaf, 
 Drops from the urn of joy, not grief. 
 Thongs to the graceful limbs made fast, 
 
 The scarlet leggin laced with quills, 
 By bird and bristling hedge-hog cast, 
 
 And edged with long and gaudy frills. 
 Adorned with feathers brightly dyed, 
 
 And ornaments of bone and shell ; 
 Trim hunting frock of smoke-tann'd hide 
 
 Their manly forms befitted well. 
 Light hoofs of deer on sinew strung 
 
 Were closely to the ancle bound, 
 And when the foot was lifted, rung 
 With a low, strange and rattling sound ; 
 
14 YONNONDIO. 
 
 Their rounded heads were shorn and bare. 
 Save cherished tufts of streaming hair, 
 Left for the grasp of mortal foe, 
 If destiny should aid his blow- 
 When meet wild warriors of the wood 
 To quench Hate's ghastly torch in blood. 
 Bard would have said with kindling brain, 
 Could he have gazed upon the twain, 
 " Behold, reposing from the chase, 
 The guardian spirits of the place, 
 And study for inspired hour 
 When bosom thrills with sense of power;" 
 
 Would sculptor in their forms have found, 
 Full of wild energy and grace, 
 And the marked features of their race 
 
 By Nature's brush embrowned. 
 
 VI. 
 
 Tone, dignity of step and mien, 
 
 Apart from flaunting pomp of dress, 
 In courtly hall and forest green, 
 
 Denote high birth and kingliness : 
 Brow, lip and haughty glance betray 
 A personage of kingly sway, 
 Though no dread symbol of command 
 Is flashing in the jewelled hand ; 
 And persons of monarchal mould 
 Were those dark hunters of the wold j 
 
THE CAMP. 15 
 
 And likeness to each other bore 
 
 Observable to careless eye, 
 Not only in the garb they wore, 
 
 But bearing resolute and high. 
 
 VII. 
 
 The senior of the two was tall, 
 
 But in his frame symmetrical, 
 
 And chronicled were former wars 
 
 On brow and breast in "glorious scars." 
 
 Though seventy vanished years to white 
 
 Had scalp lock changed once black as night, 
 
 Still could his eye direct the shaft, 
 
 His hand the whirling hatchet guide, 
 Or knife-blade redden to the haft, 
 
 When close encounter prowess tried. 
 Hours lapsed away, and neither broke 
 The silence of the place, or spoke, 
 But stood in attitude to hear 
 Sounds only caught by tutored, ear, 
 While looked they forth with searching glance 
 On Cadaracqui's calm expanse, 
 For floating on his bosom blue 
 Large objects slowly loomed to view. 
 
 VIII. 
 
 At last the younger woodman cried, 
 For weapon feeling at his side, 
 

 16 YONNONDIO. 
 
 4 
 
 " Look, Father ! gleaming in the sun, 
 
 Are pointed spear, long knife and gun, 
 
 While hither, on the swelling waves, 
 
 Float Yonnondio's hostile braves!" 
 
 " Yes, boy ! those war-canoes are mann'd 
 
 By foemen to our native land ; 
 
 They hope to wrap our huts in flame, 
 
 And blot from memory our name ; 
 
 My people unprepared assail, 
 
 Change the light laugh to dying wail, 
 
 And flowers tread down that fragrance shed 
 
 On grave-mounds of our honored dead. 
 
 I fear them not ! three moons ago 
 
 My warriors laid their bravest low, 
 
 And gory scalps, on homeward track, 
 
 To shrivel in the smoke bore back. 
 
 Look, look ! a viler race is near 
 
 The coward Hurons guide them here, 
 
 And fondly hope, in lucky hour. 
 
 To crush the Aganuschion power : 
 
 But will they find a dreaming foe 1 
 
 No, thanks to Ou-we-nee-you,* no! 
 
 When hunters for the panther search 
 
 They never find their game asleep, 
 But watchful on his lofty perch, 
 
 And crouching for the deadly leap. 
 
 * Great Spirit. 
 
THE CAMP. 17 
 
 . 
 IX. 
 
 . 
 
 Their dangerous post those warriors kept, 
 Until they heard the plash of oar, 
 While heavily the blade was swept, 
 Affrighting- wild fowl on the shore ; 
 Then the loud, startling war-whoop raised, 
 One moment on the pageant gazed, 
 And sought, with footstep quick and light, 
 Screen in thick wilderness from sight. 
 
 x. 
 
 The proud flotilla in the bay 
 Cast anchor near the close of day, 
 Scaring the wild- wolf, grim and gaunt, 
 From old, hereditary haunt, 
 And startling in his mossy lair, 
 With iron clang of arms, the bear. 
 The sun descending, bathed in light, 
 Steep, naked bluff and pine-capped height, 
 And varied tints of lustrous glow 
 Flung on the lucent waves below, 
 That kissed, by gentle south wind fann'd, 
 With murmur soft the glittering strand. 
 
 XI. 
 
 It would have been a thrilling sight 
 Troops to have seen in trappings bright 
 
18 YONNONDIO. 
 
 Whose guns had poured the leaden rain 
 
 On storied fields across the main, 
 
 And heard the trumpet's martial call 
 
 Sound triumph-note for brave old Gaul, 
 
 By hundreds landed on a shore 
 
 Where sabre never rang before 
 
 By leaders who had freely bled 
 
 In wars of mighty Louis, led 
 
 Chiefs who on Steenkirk's plain had fought, 
 
 And battle's heart at Landen sought. 
 
 XII. 
 
 De Nonville with an eye of skill 
 Took measurement of slope and hill, 
 And tents were pitched, by his command, 
 On swells of undulating land, 
 Well guarded on the weaker flanks, 
 By water and opposing banks ; 
 While open front, or esplanade, 
 Was wisely left for prompt parade, 
 If chance the tocsin of alarm 
 Should call upon the host "to arm!" 
 The pickets, helmeted and mailed, 
 For nightly vigil were detailed ; 
 The sentinel was shown the bounds, 
 Wherein to pace his lonely rounds, 
 And in advance, the tried vidette, 
 To guard each pass to camp, was set. 
 
THE CAMP. 19 
 
 XIII. 
 
 Their savage allies plumed for strife, 
 And armed with hatchet, club and knife, 
 In dusky groups, beneath the shade, 
 Their sylvan lodge and watch-fire made, 
 Or ranged the copse with ready bow, 
 To spy out trace of lurking foe ; 
 For the fierce Huron of Lorette, 
 
 And stern Algonquin of the north, 
 Whose soil the Seneca had wet 
 
 With blood and tears, were going forth 
 To crush the conqueror, and leave 
 No mourner for the slain to grieve, 
 If vengeance could the task achieve. 
 
 XIV. 
 
 Nose, ear and neck, with jewels hung, 
 And wild words of their forest tongue ; 
 Rude quivers on the shoulder borne, 
 From spotted fawn and wild-cat torn ; 
 The gleaming cincture round the waist, 
 Prized ornament of savage taste ; 
 Paint on their scowling faces spread, 
 In horrid streaks of black and red 
 Their bucklers of defensive form, 
 Frail guardians in the battle storm, 
 
20 YONNONDIO. 
 
 Bore strange unlikeness to the dress, 
 
 Bright armor, martial haughtiness, 
 
 And discipline of soldiers, famed 
 
 Whenever " warrior" is named : 
 
 Whose charge had strewn the earth with dead 
 
 While Luxemburgh and Vauban led, 
 
 Or in the combat, man to man, 
 
 Had seen with hardihood unshrinking 
 
 The plume of Conde in the van, 
 
 Where Death his reddest draught was drinking. 
 
 xv. 
 
 Tribes, who with Yonnondio came 
 Hereditary wrongs to right, 
 Abandoning pursuit of game 
 For issues of the doubtful fight, 
 Were under conduct of D'Lisle, 
 A man of energy and wile ; 
 And priest of that strange order known 
 From clime to clime, and zone to zone 
 Whose pilgrims in the world of thought 
 The secret springs of knowledge sought, 
 And deemed it feminine to dwell, 
 Monastic drones, in convent cell : 
 Whose members, by ambition fired, 
 Forged fetters of religious thrall, 
 And tyranny o'er minds acquired 
 In savage hut and lordly hall : 
 
THE CAMP. 21 
 
 Braved, to extend their mystic league, 
 Dark peril, hunger and fatigue, 
 Upraised the rod of mystic sway 
 In distant Ind and Paragua, 
 Sought with the vesper hymn and psalm 
 Saint Lawrence and his isles of balm 
 Made voluble the wooing air, 
 Round holy Horicon with prayer, 
 Nor scrupled with the cross and sword, 
 To head a wild, barbaric horde. 
 
 XVI. 
 
 D'Lisle made use of subtle arts 
 To graft his creed on savage hearts, 
 And won, by gift and gilded bribe, 
 Esteem of many a forest tribe. 
 Like them, he painted face and lip, 
 
 And rpbed his limbs in skin of beast, 
 And sate, in joyous fellowship, 
 
 AVith quivered warriors at the feast ; 
 Dark, floating Rumor linked his name, 
 Among his countrymen, with shame 
 Some even whispered that he fled 
 In terror from his native clime, 
 And bore a keen stiletto, red 
 From point to hilt with crime ; 
 And many hinted that his soul 
 Was far too proud for priestly stole, 
 
22 YONNONDIO. 
 
 And that his broad and iron hand 
 Could better clutch the heavy brand, 
 Than grasp with meek, uplifted eye, 
 The sacred vase or rosary. 
 
 XVII. 
 
 Night with her sombre shadows came, 
 
 And on the waters dark and still, 
 Was flung the ruddy light of flame, 
 
 By beacon kindled on the hill ; 
 The muffled owl, foreboding bird, 
 Complaining on her perch was heard ; 
 The wild beast caught the scent of men, 
 And hurried to his brambly den ; 
 The whippoorwill beguiled the hours 
 With tender lay in leafy bowers, 
 Rejoicing that the time of dews 
 Had blotted out the sunset hues, 
 While stars, in absence of the sun, 
 Shot forth in beauty, one by one, 
 And bathed in rich, romantic sheen, 
 The tops of pine and hemlock green, 
 And gave a soft, transparent glow, 
 To slumbering Ontario, 
 
 XVIII. 
 
 The sentry on his lonely post 
 Moved to and fro with iron tramp ; 
 
THE CAMP. 
 
 And the loud tumult of the host 
 Grew fainter in the guarded camp ; 
 The wearied conscript, young in years, 
 Torn from his native vale with tears 
 To mingle in the war-array, 
 From home and hearth-stone far away, 
 In dreams of his paternal cot 
 The miseries of life forgot : 
 Heard the glad vintagers again 
 Chant gaily some old peasant strain, 
 While gleaning clusters from the vine, 
 Or pressing out the crimson wine. 
 Once more, in visions of repose, 
 The distant village spire arose, 
 And on his ear with soothing, fell 
 The monotone of evening bell. 
 Again he tried his vaunted speed 
 With jocund brothers, on the mead, 
 And marked his sister, young and fair, 
 Plait garlands for her flowing hair - 
 Met that devoted maid once more, 
 
 Who wildly wept from him to sever, 
 And by the Star of Lovers swore 
 
 To prove unfaithful never. 
 Once more the smiling dreamer heard 
 That being breatKe familiar word, 
 Who watched his infancy, and made 
 
 A pillow of her breast for him ; 
 
24 YONNONDIO. 
 
 And thought her care would be repaid, 
 By fond caress and filial aid, 
 
 When her mild eye grew dim. 
 Beneath his own unclouded skies, 
 Scenes of historic glory spread, 
 And back came early memories 
 
 Like phantoms of the dead 
 The huge chateau of other days, 
 Proud object of his childish gaze, 
 Uplifted as in former hours 
 Its moss-grown battlements and towers ; 
 And entering deserted halls 
 Through fissures in the leaning walls, 
 The wild winds sang in hollow tone 
 Of valor fled, and beauty gone. 
 
 XIX. 
 
 Extended, too, on couch of earth 
 
 The veteran of proven worth, 
 
 A fleeting visit paid in sleep 
 
 To kindred o'er the tossing deep. . 
 
 Nigh graves, wherein his fathers slept, 
 
 The Loire in silver windings swept, 
 
 And gladly he beheld once more 
 
 The hamlet where they dwelt of yore. 
 
 The blood ran quicker through his frame, 
 
 When loved ones shouted out his name, 
 
 And that poor wife, who pining long 
 
THE CAMP. 25 
 
 Breathed snatches oft of mournful song, 
 And nightly prayed, on bended knee, 
 That God would stretch protecting arm, 
 And guard by land, or whelming sea, 
 
 Her absent mate from harm 
 Right toward him came on flying feet, 
 Her wedded lord once more to greet, 
 While chubby lads, in gay attire, 
 Laughed welcome to their war-worn sire. 
 
 xx. 
 
 . 
 While thus the dreaming soldier lay, 
 
 Rude pillow of his knapsack making, 
 Regardless that the coming day 
 
 Might bring repose that knows no waking, 
 Paced hurriedly within his tent, 
 A chieftain of the armament, 
 Erect he moved, though on his head 
 The frost of sixty years was spread, 
 And well his martial dress became 
 The fine proportions of his frame. 
 His helm and corslet, soiled and worn, 
 The brunt of many frays had borne ; 
 And bjazing badge upon his breast, 
 His knighthood and his rank expressed. 
 No pleasant vision of delight 
 To lull his soul, was brought by night, 
 And slumber o'er him waved in vain 
 
26 TONNONDIO. 
 
 The wand of her quiescent reign. 
 
 His brow contracted to a frown, 
 
 Blanched cheek and gloomy eye cast down, 
 
 Unerringly bespoke a man 
 
 Whose thoughts in gloomy currents ran 
 
 Who vengefully had brooded long 
 
 O'er deep and unforgiven wrong, 
 
 With heart corroded to its core 
 
 By bitter memories of yore. 
 
 At last a sudden pause he made, 
 
 And hand upon his dagger laid ; 
 
 For indistinctly on his ear 
 
 Came the low sound of footstep near 
 
 Then from the hilt his hand withdrew, 
 
 As the dark form of one he knew 
 
 Strode through an opening in the tent ; 
 
 And on his visitant he bent 
 
 A searching, anxious glance, and cried 
 
 " What tidings, father, of my child ? 
 
 Speak, for my brain is waxing wild !" 
 
 " She lives /" the Jesuit replied. 
 
 " And her betrayer 1 ?" " Soon will feel 
 
 The temper of avenging steel." 
 
 " Where lurks the fiend of perjured soul, 
 
 Who came in human guise and stole 
 
 The young and last surviving flower 
 
 That grew in my domestic bower ? 
 
 Left on my honorable name 
 

 THE CAMP. 27 
 
 The mildew of eternal shame, 
 
 Then made my fond, old heart the tomb 
 
 Of bliss and expectation fair, 
 
 And peopled its sepulchral gloom 
 
 With tiger passions and despair." 
 
 XXI. 
 
 The maid and her seducer dwell 
 
 With that fierce tribe we wish to quell ; 
 
 I wrung the tidings from a foe 
 
 Caught near our lines an hour ago ; 
 
 For well I speak and understand 
 
 The dialect of this wild land, 
 
 And oft have borne the cross among 
 
 The natives of this valley bright, 
 
 And won by soft, persuasive tongue 
 
 Full many a tawny proselyte. 
 
 Though words of vengeance you may deem 
 
 Unsuited to my calling meek ; 
 
 That holy types but ill beseem 
 
 The glow of hatred on my cheek ; 
 
 You will not marvel when you hear 
 
 The tale I breathe into your ear, 
 
 That memories of hoarded wrong 
 
 Within my bosom also throng 
 
 Wrong that the blood of cursed DeGrai 
 
 Alone can heal or wash away. 
 
 The hunter following the stag, 
 
28 YONNONDIO. 
 
 May faint with weariness, and lag- 
 The dove in airy speed may balk 
 Her swooping enemy the hawk 
 The timid lamb may shelter find, 
 When the gaunt night-wolf howls behind- 
 The bandit may his cavern gain, 
 While baffled huntsmen search in vain ; 
 But never yet did foe escape, 
 W^hen foot of mine was on his track, 
 Though peril, in appalling shape, 
 Stood in the path to warn me back. 
 
 XXII. 
 
 I know your ancient castle well, 
 That overlooks the blue Moselle, 
 And envied, when a puny boy, 
 The wealth and titles of Le Troye; 
 For though my rude and peasant sires 
 
 Were humble servitors of thine, 
 Ambition never kindled fires 
 
 Within a prouder heart than mine. 
 Oft, oft in dreams of high renown, 
 
 While sitting by the rustic hearth, 
 My soul would for a season drown 
 
 Desponding thought of lowly birth, 
 But memory her eye would ope, 
 And crush the radiant flowers of Hope, 
 Convert my fabrics, frail and fair, 
 
THE CAMP. 29 
 
 To empty, unsubstantial air. 
 Long nights of toil, and weary days, 
 I strove to win scholastic bays, 
 A miner in the well of Truth, 
 Unmindful of the sports of youth ; 
 But lacking patronage and gold, 
 The fervor of my brain grew cold. 
 In after years when Gaul awoke, 
 
 And urged her nobles to the field, 
 A gleam upon the darkness broke, 
 
 And gory paths to fame revealed. 
 O'er musty books of ancient lore 
 My mounting spirit loved to pore 
 In monkish idleness no more : 
 I heard the warning bugle blow, 
 And saw the greeting winds untwine 
 The banner of your ancient line, 
 And liegemen to the muster go, 
 With pulses panting for the foe ; 
 Then buckling on a rusted blade, 
 Went, like my sires, your House to aid, 
 
 XXIII. 
 
 Sir Knight, at times bethink you not 
 Of that young soldier of your corps, 
 Who on the field of Cassel fought, 
 And through a storm of fire and shot 
 
 The tattered colors bore, 
 e2 
 
30 YONNONDIO. 
 
 Snatched by his daring from the plain 
 When the bold bannerman was slain ? 
 "Hah, by the saints, said old Le Troye, 
 " Your voice reminds me of that boy 
 "Is not your true address, Mordaunt?" 
 No ! but the stripling was my friend, 
 And found a dark, untimely end ; 
 Oft comes, my midnight couch to haunt, 
 His spectre colorless and gaunt, 
 And vengeance goads me like a spur, 
 To find and slay his murderer. 
 
 XXIV. 
 
 I well remember that you made 
 Mordaunt upon .the field your aid ; 
 And wondering that one so brave 
 
 Was in the vernal time of life, 
 Presented him your own good glaive, 
 
 Yet red and reeking with the strife. 
 When wearied, to your broad domain 
 Retainers were led back again, 
 Your daughter, full of grace and fair, 
 
 Came ambling on her palfrey fleet, 
 With diamonds flashing in her hair, 
 
 A father and his troop to greet : 
 And that she fixed admiring gaze 
 
 On the young hero by your side, 
 While prodigal of smiles and praise 
 
THE CAMP. 31 
 
 You told her of his valor tried 
 How in the melee of the fight 
 
 He wrested from a dead-man's hold 
 The gonfalon no longer bright, 
 
 And waved on high its ragged fold ; 
 I well remember that a shout 
 From bearded lips rang gaily out, 
 When lightly from her snowy neck 
 
 A chain of gleaming gold she took, 
 The chivalrous Mordaunt to deck, 
 
 And told him, with a downcast look, 
 To keep the bauble as a meed 
 From woman for heroic deed. 
 
 XXV. \ 
 
 You gave the favorite a place 
 
 In the proud Castle of your race, 
 
 And mortal cannot deem it strange 
 
 That one thus raised from low estate 
 Should undergo a sudden change 
 
 While mingling with the Great ; 
 Or marvel that the stripling grew 
 Elated and presumptuous too 
 Forgetful in his dream of fame, 
 That his was not a titled name, 
 And that his fathers, like mine own, 
 Were heirs to poverty alone. 
 The Lady Blanche, your peerless child, 
 
YONNONDIO. 
 
 Upon the beardless minion smiled, 
 And chose him from the waiting train, 
 To gallop at her bridle rein, 
 And be her page in bower and hall, 
 A post of honor craved by all. 
 
 XXVI. 
 
 She used, when pensive twilight brought 
 Sweet moments of romantic thought, 
 To hear him wake the warbling lute, 
 And to her mood the measure suit-~ 
 Unknowing that a word of praise, 
 When ended were his glowing lays, 
 In rich, impressive accent spoken, 
 Would nurse an overdaring dream, 
 And to the blinded minstrel seem 
 Of her regard a thrilling token. 
 Warmed by her smile, with vigorous start, 
 First love upgrew within his heart, 
 Like flower matured by tropic sun ; 
 And spurning bonds of weak control, 
 The crowning passion of his soul 
 Wild mastery of reason won ; 
 And in a luckless hour he made 
 Rash proffer of his heart and hand, 
 And only found, when prostrate laid, 
 That his high hopes were based on sand. 
 Your daughter heard the youth avow 
 

 THE CAMP. 33 
 
 His feelings with an angry brow, 
 And in a tone of blighting scorn, 
 Styled her adorer ' lowly born,' 
 And bade him stoop his towering head 
 To woo a bride in cottage bred, 
 But never, in enamored strain, 
 Address a noble maid again. 
 
 XXVII. 
 
 Changed was his bearing from that hour ; 
 
 He sought no more her chosen bower, 
 
 To cull some precious token flower. 
 
 One eve I met him on the road 
 
 Conducting to my rude abode, 
 
 And face again, so sad and pale, 
 
 I pray I never may behold, 
 
 While mournfully to me his tale 
 
 Of unrequited love he told. 
 
 His lute, to notes of joy once strung, 
 
 Became a cold, neglected thing, 
 
 And the dark, crawling spider hung 
 
 Her web-work on each rusted string 
 
 He heard delightedly no more 
 
 Her footstep on the marble floor; 
 
 But think not that he grew remiss 
 
 In formal homage due her rank, 
 
 Though his crushed soul rich draught of bliss 
 
 No longer in her presence drank ; 
 
 '*. 
 

 34 YONNONDIO. 
 
 Thenceforth her dark and lustrous eye 
 Could not dissolve his apathy 
 Thenceforth her voice, harp-like and clear, 
 Its sweetness wasted on his ear 
 To him she was a prize withdrawn, 
 No more to rouse to high endeavor 
 A morning star of beauty gone 
 From Love's delicious sky forever. 
 
 XXVIII. 
 
 Fresh in remembrance is the day, 
 When, clad in glittering garb, De Grai, 
 A young and reckless cavalier, 
 Came from the camp, invited guest, 
 Within your ancient hall to rest, 
 
 And share its hospitable cheer. 
 His figure was of perfect mould, 
 And with the nobler wealth of mind, 
 Uncounted heaps of yellow gold, 
 And broad, rich acres were combined. 
 In his gay look, observer caught 
 No outward sign of guilty thought, 
 Although the callous soul within 
 Was foul with darkest deeds of sin 
 His winning courtesy of air, 
 And eloquence, were suited well 
 The heart of woman to ensnare, 
 And kindle perilously there 
 

 THE CAMP. 35 
 
 The flame of love unquenchable ; 
 
 His ancestors held feudal sway 
 
 When France was in her younger day, 
 
 And last was he of his proud line ; 
 
 For on the hoof-beat battle plain 
 
 His sire, a bosom friend of thine, 
 
 While rushing to the charge, was slain. 
 
 Though young, with many a trusting maid, 
 
 The part of traitor he had played, 
 
 And deeply taught in arts to lure 
 
 From paths of innocence the PURE, 
 
 The wretch, insensible to shame, 
 
 Could well the hollow promise frame ; 
 
 While his poor victim could not brook 
 
 To harbor blighting thought, the while, 
 
 That his sincerity of look 
 
 Masked ruin, perjury and guile, 
 
 Your daughter was a gem too bright 
 
 To flash untarnished in his sight ; 
 
 A flower too innocent in dye 
 
 To lift its blushing charms on high, 
 
 Unnoted by his dooming eye. 
 
 'Oh, spare me the recital dread 
 
 ' Of \vhat ensued !' the Baron said ; 
 
 ' Oh, better had she kept aloof 
 
 From the foul fiend beneath my roof, 
 
 Or like some bird by serpent charmed, 
 
 That breaks the dreadful spell ere harmed, 
 
36 YONNONDIO. 
 
 In time to shun disgrace have fled 
 
 From the dark mesh the monster spread ; 
 
 But, ah, an unsuspecting heart 
 
 By craft is easily enchained, 
 
 And soon his deep seductive art 
 
 The pearl of her affections gained ! 
 
 At first I saw in young De Grai 
 
 A daughter's honorable choice, 
 And heard, with doubting and dismay, 
 
 The whisper of a friendly voice. 
 
 XXIX. 
 
 Rejoined the priest, in husky tone, 
 Whiter his cheek than pale tomb-stone 
 " Mordaunt that horrid warning spoke, 
 And tumult in your bosom woke ; 
 Then eager Blanche Le Troye to save 
 From doom more dreadful than the grave, 
 You drove the recreant from your door, 
 And with a look that menaced strife, 
 Forbade him cross its threshold more, 
 On peril of his limb and life ; 
 But could not make the doomed one think 
 That he had plotted her undoing, 
 And that she stood upon the brink 
 Of shameful, everlasting ruin : 
 Thrice blest are they who only shed 
 Tears for the unpolluted dead 
 
 
THE CAMP. 37 
 
 Who mark the rounded mould above 
 
 The children of their hope and love, 
 
 In contrast with that wretched sire 
 
 Whose sorrow is consuming fire, 
 
 Who mourns an erring daughter driven 
 
 From bliss on earth, from home in heaven ! 
 
 One night, tempestuous and wild, 
 
 In secret fled your hapless child, 
 
 And when the morrow came, you heard 
 
 From fond lip fall no greeting word : 
 
 Her form was missing in the hall, 
 
 Her palfrey absent from the stall 
 
 A glove upon the marble stair 
 
 Had fallen from her fingers fair, 
 
 And near the castle gate were found 
 
 Fresh hoof-marks on the sandy ground, 
 
 Disclosing palpably to sight 
 
 That Blanche was not alone in flight. 
 
 XXX. 
 
 Alarum notes from turret bell 
 Were wafted over lawn and dell, 
 And bold dependents of the soil, 
 Well trained to arm for sudden fray, 
 Threw by their implements of toil, 
 That martial summons to obey. 
 Still like a trumpet in mine ear, 
 
 D 
 
38 YONNONDIO. 
 
 Your cry of eager haste I hear 
 " Outspeed the beagle on the track, 
 " And dead, or living, bring her back ! 
 " But leave behind a mangled corse, 
 " The partner of her crime to horse f" 
 Then loud the clash of armor rang, 
 And horsemen on their coursers sprang, 
 And in pursuit, with dangling rein, 
 Swept like a blast across the plain. 
 Up hills precipitous and steep, 
 And over rivers dark and deep, 
 Through sombre wood and winding dell, 
 Plied were the scourge and rowel well. 
 
 XXXI. 
 
 In vain for many leagues they sped, 
 
 The fugitives were far ahead; 
 
 And long ere night the troop came home, 
 
 Faint and exhausted from the chase, 
 
 On jaded chargers, white with foam, 
 
 And lagging in their pace ; 
 
 But that poor youth did not return 
 
 Who bravely led them forth at morn ; 
 
 For written was his vow on high 
 
 To save an erring maid, or die. 
 
 On, on he urged his noble brute 
 
 When followers gave o'er pursuit : 
 
 Night, hunger and a pathway dim 
 
THE CAMP. 39 
 
 Were no impediments to him 
 His heart was proof to peril dire ; 
 What recked he of the set of sun ? 
 From Lust to glad a frantic sire, 
 
 An angel must be won ; 
 
 And nerved by thoughts like these, his steed 
 With spur he pushed to headlong speed. 
 Weeks flew, and in her lonely cot 
 A mother's heart grew sick and sore ; 
 In vain she mourned her bitter lot 
 Mordaunt, the valiant, came no more ; 
 But haply, ere his fall was known, 
 Hushed was her broken-hearted moan. 
 " If aught of him you know, relate ! 
 "Long have I sought to learn his fate" 
 Quoth old Le Troye in anxious tone. 
 
 XXXII. 
 
 _ 
 
 A few months after, I became 
 A convert to Loyola's creed, 
 And tired like him of phantom fame, 
 Kissed crucifix and counted bead, 
 The duties of my holy sphere 
 My steps conducted far and near. 
 One day, (the sun was nearly set,) 
 A peasant in Lorraine I met: 
 Clouds, black with storm, were in the sky 
 No cheering hostelry was nigh, 
 
 - 
 
40 YONNONDIO. 
 
 And fain, belated on rny way, 
 
 Was I beneath his roof to stay ; 
 
 For with a troubled look he told 
 
 Of traveller shot down for gold, 
 
 Of Danger lurking on the road, 
 
 And midnight murderer abroad. 
 
 " Not long ago," cried he, "my dream 
 
 " Was broken by a dismal scream, 
 
 " Preceded by a pistol shot ; 
 
 " And darting wildly from my cot, 
 
 " I heard, while flesh grew chill with fright, 
 
 " The clattering of hoofs in flight. 
 
 " Next morn, upon the beaten ground, 
 
 ' A stranger cold in death I found 
 
 " The ball, with fatal aiming sped, 
 
 " Had made deep lodgment in his head 
 
 " And his dark locks, all stiff with gore, 
 
 " The passing wind could lift no more. 
 
 " His brow was frowning, and a brand 
 
 " Clung to the unrelaxing hand, 
 
 " While reckless all of rider slain, 
 
 " A steed grazed near with broken rein, 
 
 " Black as the midnight's darkest dyes, 
 
 " Save a white star between his eyes, 
 
 " Who, when we strove to catch him, ran 
 
 " As if he spurned the rule of man. 
 
THE CAMP. 41 
 
 XXXIII. 
 
 " Without exhorting priest or pall, 
 
 " We gave the stranger burial ; 
 
 " And on the spot where he is laid 
 
 " A waving elm throws pleasant shade. 
 
 " His hat, pierced by the fatal ball, 
 
 " And vestments, hang on yonder wall, 
 
 " And from his rigid neck and cold, 
 
 " I took this costly chain of gold" 
 
 Before he told the story out, 
 
 My brain was free from darkening doubt ; 
 
 For, added to the chain and garb, 
 
 His faithful picture of the barb, 
 
 Mordaunt's unhappy exit left, 
 
 Of dread uncertainty bereft, 
 
 XXXTV. 
 
 His relics from their bloody shroud 
 For retribution called aloud, 
 And thinking of the friendly band 
 That erst our hearts in love allied, 
 Asunder by a ruthless hand 
 Divided at untimely tide, 
 I tasked my energies to trace 
 
 The reeking author of the crime, 
 Like bloodhound to his lurking place ; 
 
42 YONNONDIO. 
 
 And Havre sought, but not in time, 
 A bark to view in full career, 
 Bound to another hemisphere, 
 From kindred, home and country bear 
 De Grai and his companion fair. 
 
 XXXV. 
 
 Across a broad expanse of sea 
 The coward murderer may flee, 
 And finding covert, dark and rude, 
 May baffled justice long elude. 
 Aye ! even trust that lapse of days 
 Will dim remembrance of his guilt ; 
 That man again will kindly gaze, 
 Forgetful of the blood he spilt ; 
 But soon or late, the gory deed 
 Will awful punishment succeed ; 
 The dark assassin of Mordaunt 
 Feels safe within his greenwood haunt, 
 And little deems the coming day 
 Will guide avengers on their way. 
 The cheering thought sustains his soul, 
 A thousand leagues of water roll 
 
 Between me and the slain ; 
 And that old father, gray with years, 
 Who mourns a daughter lost, while tears 
 
 Bedew his cheek like rain, 
 Poor self-beguiler ! o'er his head 
 
THE CAMP. 43 
 
 The sable wing of Death is spread, 
 And Vengeance, with his dooming eye, 
 And sharp, unsparing blade, is nigh 
 Soon, soon from the gloom of its scabbard to dart 
 And drink the last drop of his recreant heart ! 
 
 XXXVI. 
 
 '* 
 
 Enough of prating! on the hill, 
 The tall old evergreens are still, 
 And the south wind no longer weaves 
 Gay roundelay amid the leaves, 
 Or flies the dreaming wave to curl, 
 By moonlight changed to liquid pearl 
 No rustling whisper, from the reeds 
 That fringe yon marshy bay, proceeds, 
 And in primeval groves around 
 There is a transient death of sound. 
 The howling beast of prey hath made 
 His meal of carnage in the shade, 
 And sought long since his dark retreat, 
 Crackling the brush beneath his feet. 
 I, too, must find a rugged bed, 
 For the mid hour of night hath fled 
 Throughout my frame I slowly feel 
 A|drowsy, numbing torpor steal, 
 And as we march by morning light, 
 Our limbs require repose GOOD NIGHT ! 
 
 END OP CANTO FIRST. 
 
YONNONDIO. 
 
 CANTO SECOND. 
 
 THE COTTAGE. 
 
 If hallowed by Love's presence bright, a home 
 Far in the wild is more to be desired 
 
 Than gorgeous chambers of a royal dome, 
 Where restless hearts, by envy ever fired, 
 
 Throb in proud breast, where joyance hath expired ; 
 
 Mine be the hut, if there Affection dwells, 
 
 Though meanly be its occupants attired ; 
 
 For the blind Deity hath wondrous spells 
 That fill with golden light Earth's worst receptacles. 
 
 The rosy pencillings of Dawn 
 On a pleasant sky were clearly drawn, 
 And changed the clouds of) the Orient grew 
 From dull gray tint to a golden hue. 
 The distant top of the wooded height 
 Was edged with a rim of tender light, 
 
I 
 
 46 YONNONDIO. 
 
 And thicket, fountain, rock and tree 
 
 From cloudless sun a radiance drank, 
 
 While washed the rapid Genesee, 
 
 With reddened wave, the crumbling bank. 
 
 The clasping vine on the river shore, 
 
 Twined round the ponderous sycamore ; 
 
 And near, in strange confusion piled, 
 
 Lay fallen giants of the wild, 
 
 Decaying marks of ages flown, 
 
 By the fierce tornado overblown ; 
 
 On the grassy brink thick willows grew, 
 
 And gloom on the passing current threw, 
 
 While pensile boughs hung down to lave 
 
 Their pale green leaves in the gurgling wave; 
 
 On the long unbroken ridge above, 
 
 The walnut, oak and maple spread 
 
 Their knotted, barky arms, and wove 
 
 A dark pavilion overhead : 
 
 Beyond, encircled by the grove, 
 
 A glade lay basking in the light, 
 
 Like an emerald gem in the locks of night, 
 
 And the fresh and unpolluted earth 
 
 To flowers of an hundred hues gave birth. 
 
 Such haunt the dreaming bards of old 
 
 Chose for the fay his court to hold, 
 
 From din of crowded mart afar, 
 
 When the moon was in her diamond car ; 
 
 And a being of celestial mien 
 
THE COTTAGE. 47 
 
 Was moving on its carpet green, 
 Bright as the Fabled Fairy -queen : 
 But her cheek with sorrowing was pale, 
 Nor could the breath of morning dry, 
 Or the vivid beam of day exhale 
 The tear-drop in her dark blue eye. 
 
 n. 
 
 A zone of brilliant damask graced 
 Her delicate and rounded waist, 
 Confining, in its clasping fold, 
 Her bodice by a brooch of gold. 
 The comb amid her auburn curls 
 Was beautiful with studding pearls, 
 And the costly texture of her dress 
 Was passing strange in a wilderness. 
 The proud bird of the cliff had shed, 
 To grace the bonnet on her head, 
 
 The richest plumage of its wings ; 
 And, magnet of admiring eyes, 
 She would have borne the dazzling prize 
 Of beauty, in the hall of kings. 
 
 in. 
 
 Contrasting with her paler charms, 
 White neck, fair cheek and snowy arms, 
 An Indian maiden by her side 
 Moved with an air of native pride, 
 

 48 YONNONDIO. 
 
 Clad in rich robe of otter-hide. 
 
 Her features were of swarthy dye, 
 
 But darker was her tameless eye, 
 
 And wavy tresses, thick and black, 
 
 Hung unrestrained adown her back, 
 
 The fawn had yielded up its skin 
 
 To form her velvet moccasin ; 
 
 The bird of fire and noisy jay, 
 
 To fringe her dress, their feathers gay ; 
 
 And her cheek was bright with lively stains, 
 
 Redder than blood in her branching veins. 
 
 Large beads were pendant from her ear, 
 
 Strung on the pliant thew of deer ; 
 
 And on her bosom brightly shone 
 
 An amulet of mystic stone 
 
 The gift of venerated seer, 
 
 To guard her form in the darkest hour, 
 
 From spirits fraught with evil power, 
 
 Who ride on the pinions of the breeze 
 
 To breed the tempest, blight the flower, 
 
 And taint frail mortals with disease. 
 
 IV. 
 
 " Cease, daughter of the Rising Sun ! 
 Lamenting for thy little one ! 
 The Land of fadeless verdure now 
 Is gladdened by his sunny brow ; 
 Beyond the gulph of death, he smiles, 
 
THE COTTAGE. 49 
 
 " Inhabitant of Happy Isles ; 
 
 " But, vanishing like April snow, 
 
 "A few more years will come and go, 
 
 "And mother and her babe again 
 
 " Will meet where ties break not in twain." 
 
 While in her glance soft pity shone, 
 
 Thus in wild, sweet, condoling tone, 
 
 The maid of deep black eye and hair 
 
 Addrest the lady, sad and fair, 
 
 Who answered " Yester-eve the spot 
 
 " Grim wood- wolves had molested not, 
 
 " But dread the change since y ester-eve 
 
 " Can I do otherwise than grieve 1 ?" 
 
 Then, to another Continent, 
 
 In thought the pale, young mourner went, 
 
 Till rose, before her mental sight, 
 
 Home's ancient hall, and landscape bright; 
 
 While strains, consorting with her wo, 
 
 Gushed from her lips in warbling low. 
 
 v* 
 
 SONG. 
 1. 
 
 There is a lordly castle 
 
 A vine-clad hill that crowns ; 
 All darkly its stern battlement 
 
 Upon the valley frowns ! 
 
 E 
 
50 YONNONDIO. 
 
 And from its ancient window, 
 My father, old and gray, 
 
 Perchance, in grief and loneliness, 
 Is looking forth to-day. 
 
 In vain close watch he keepeth ; 
 
 For on her native shore, 
 The foot of one he loveth 
 
 Will lightly tread no more. 
 The cup that he is drinking, 
 
 Is drugged with shame and tears ; 
 And who will cheer the winter 
 
 Of his declining years ? 
 
 3. 
 
 The grave hath won my mother, 
 
 In strife my brothers fell, 
 And when the old man dieth, 
 
 No child will ring his knell. 
 Oh, would that I had never 
 
 Heard Love's beguiling lay, 
 And fled with kirn in darkness 
 
 ' Who stole my heart away/ 
 
 4. 
 
 There is a lordly castle 
 
 That stands beyond the sea; 
 
THE COTTAGE. 51 
 
 And in the dreams of midnight 
 
 Its towers appear to me : 
 The cold and lonely chambers 
 
 Seem peopled by the dead, 
 And there my father boweth 
 
 In grief his aged head. 
 
 VI. 
 
 Why wandered, in so wild a place, 
 Descendant of a Christian race, 
 From home of childhood, far away, 
 Beyond the deep, and its tossing spray 1 
 Ask Love, wild lord, to whose control 
 Woman resigns her trusting soul ; 
 Who tempts her, by his wizard-spell, 
 Against a parent to rebel, 
 And hall of princely pomp exchange 
 Within a land of bloom and sun, 
 For wilderness, remote and strange, 
 Protected by her chosen one, 
 And in its trackless bosom share 
 His cup of comfort or despair. 
 
 VII. 
 
 On the dark borders of the wood 
 A lodge of rude construction stood, 
 And, upward from its hearth, the smoke 
 Rose, in blue wreaths, above the oak. 
 
YONNONDIO. 
 
 The wild hop to its hanging eaves 
 
 Clung with its prickly wealth of leaves ; 
 
 And poles, set firmly in the ground, 
 
 With upright forks before the door, 
 
 The weight of unhewn rafters bore ; 
 
 And honey-suckles twined around 
 
 The sylvan framework, rough and low, 
 
 Forming a verdant portico. 
 
 Rare, blooming shrubs of forest land, 
 
 Transplanted by a tasteful hand, 
 
 On the smooth lawn in front were growing, 
 
 Profusely round an odor throwing. 
 
 The waving sumach, pride of bowers, 
 
 And dogwood, white with snowy flowers 
 
 Witch-hazle, spruce and sassafras 
 
 Flung shadows on the velvet grass. 
 
 A welling fount of water clear 
 
 In rocky basin bubbled near, 
 
 And air was vocal with the notes 
 
 Of rustling leaves and warbling throats. 
 
 The partridge beat his drum, and quail 
 
 Rose in dense conveys from the swale ; 
 
 And, adding romance to the scene, 
 
 The shambling elk shrill whistle gave, 
 
 While breaking through the thicket green 
 
 To plunge his muzzle in the wave. 
 
 The squirrel, from his snug retreat, 
 
 Came chattering on nimble feet ; 
 
THE COTTAGE. 53 
 
 In quest of sweets, the house-wife bee 
 Left her populous home in the hollow tree, 
 And morn of summer never smiled 
 On brighter Eden in the wild. 
 
 VIII. 
 
 J9< 
 The lady, sorrowful and pale, 
 
 Attended by the forest maid, 
 Followed a narrow, beaten trail, 
 
 Till reached the cot embowered in shade. 
 Its creaking door was open thrown, 
 When her foot drew near the threshold-stone ; 
 And forth a gallant hunter came, 
 Accoutred for the chase of game. 
 The pride of birth was in his bearing ; 
 His look denoted noble daring, 
 And workmanship of foreign land 
 Was the long carbine in his hand. 
 A gay, green mantle, fringed with pelt, 
 Was lightly round his person flung, 
 And, from an ornamented belt, 
 His silver-mounted dagger hung ; 
 His lip, sharp-cut and well-defined, 
 Betokened a decisive mind ; 
 He bore, in haughty manhood's flower, 
 Bold heart in hate or friendship warm, 
 And elements of grace and power 
 Commingled in his stately form. 
 E2 
 
54 YONNONDIO. 
 
 Browned by pursuits of war and chase 
 
 Were the lower features of his face ; 
 
 But closely curled, his dark brown hair 
 
 Lay shadowing a forehead fair. 
 
 His full, gray eye that mildly gleamed, 
 
 The brow's expression stern redeemed ; 
 
 Yet something told that wakened ire, 
 
 From its dark depths, would call up fire. 
 
 His mellow voice, not over-loud, 
 
 Accorded with a form so proud, 
 
 While? questioned he his beauteous bride, 
 
 In tone to deep concern allied 
 
 " The cause of thy despondence tell ! 
 
 Hath aught our favorite befell, 
 
 My peerless Blanche V " Alas ! we found 
 
 The gift of Can-ne-hoot, the Chief," 
 
 Responded she in tones of grief, 
 
 " By wild-wolf mangled on the ground. 
 
 To lifeless limb and silken throat, 
 
 Clung dark red drops of clotted gore ; 
 
 My nimble fawn of dappled coat, 
 
 Will glad its mistress' gaze no more, 
 
 Or fly, on silver hoof of speed, 
 
 From her caressing hand to feed." 
 
 ' ' Hah ! the wan color of those cheeks 
 
 A deeper source of wo bespeaks, 
 
 Than loss of fondling in the shade, 
 
 By forest prowler victim made - T 
 
THE COTTAGE. 55 
 
 Why closely to thy bosom press 
 That blossom of the wilderness ?" 
 
 IX. 
 
 " This flower," replied his weeping spouse, 
 " Now dying- on my bosom, grew 
 
 Beneath those melancholy boughs, 
 More gloomy than sepulchral yew, 
 
 That bar the daylight out, and wave 
 
 Their leaves above our infant's grave. 
 
 Some fierce, disturbing beast of prey 
 
 Hath partly torn the mound away ; 
 
 The piping storm hath overthrown 
 
 The mossy, rude memorial-stone ; 
 
 And the brown, desecrating mole 
 
 In the loose soil hath dug his hole ; 
 
 While near, the terror-waking snake 
 
 Darts, coils and rattles in the brake. 
 
 I saw no pleasant sunlight fall 
 
 On the cold sod of burial, 
 
 And wept, as if my heart would break, 
 
 While strove kind Wun-nut-liay * in vain, 
 
 To smooth the broken sod again, 
 
 And ranged the wild for flowers to spread, 
 
 In dewy wreaths, above the dead ; 
 
 For well we know, though dark her skin, 
 
 A generous soul abides within/' 
 
 *The Beautiful. 
 
56 YONNONDIO. 
 
 X. 
 
 The hunter spoke not in reply, 
 
 But on his wVe gazed tenderly ; 
 
 And memories came back, unsealing 
 
 The bitter fount of mournful feeling, 
 
 While sob and trembling lip confessed 
 
 The father waking in his breast. 
 
 He thought of vaults across the brine, 
 
 That held the dead of his lofty line 
 
 Of hiding palls of gorgeous fold, 
 
 And coffins rich in plated gold ; 
 
 Then sighed to think his only child 
 
 Lay sepulchred in noteless mould, 
 
 Dim with the shadows 6f the wild, 
 
 And printed by the paw of beast 
 
 In quest of his grim, revolting feast. 
 
 He tried, but bootless was the task, 
 
 Drear Sorrow's outward sign to mask ; 
 
 For his manly heart within him melt, 
 
 Though armed with enduring strength, he felt. 
 
 He turned, at length, to find relief, 
 
 In woodland sports, from haunting grief, 
 
 When warning hand, by the Indian maid, 
 
 Was lightly on his shoulder laid, 
 
 While a warrior from the wood emerged, 
 
 On by some pressing errand urged, 
 
THE COTTAGE. 57 
 
 Who traced with swift, but noiseless tread, 
 A trail to his cottage-home that led. 
 
 XI. 
 
 "On-yit-ha* comes!" the maiden said; 
 " I know him by his bounding tread, 
 And figure like the cedar proud 
 
 That springs upon the mountain-head 
 His face, more dark than midnight-cloud 
 When the Great Spirit speaks aloud 
 
 His toughened battle-bow, 
 And arrows bound by fearful tether, 
 The skin of rattle-snake together, 
 
 Are signs of war and woe !" 
 
 XII. 
 
 " How fares my brother V J said De Grai, 
 When nearer the young chieftain drew ; 
 " Why, armed and belted for the fray, 
 Comes he with brow of sable hue 1" 
 Response the warrior of the shade, 
 With startling emphasis, thus made : 
 " White robbers from beyond the sea, 
 And tribesmen of Algonquin-stock, 
 Thick as the long grass on the lea, 
 And eager for the battle-shock, 
 Have boldly landed on our soil ; 
 But vain will prove their dreams of spoil ! 
 
 * Seneca for Night-Hawk. 
 
58 YONNONDIO. 
 
 Fierce, lurking messengers of wrath, 
 Dark, deadly serpents in their path, 
 
 'Mid leaves and brush will coil." 
 Lured by the chase from home away, 
 My sire and I paced yesterday 
 
 Blue Ca-da-rac-qui's strand, 
 And saw the foe in big canoes, 
 Near the dim hour of falling dews, 
 
 In fearful numbers land. 
 Homeward I hurried with the news, 
 And soon will wake the battle-yell ; 
 For borne hath been the signal-word, 
 By our fleetest runner, to tribes that dwell 
 
 Where the roar of the Upper Falls is heard. 
 All the fighting men of remote Gardow, 
 
 And braves from Ton-ne-wan-da's stream, 
 Round the council-fire are gathering now, 
 
 While scalp-locks wave, and weapons gleam ; 
 And thither, if the red man's friend, 
 Will On-yit-ha's adopted brother wend. 
 
 The mighty War-God of my race 
 Calls on his children the danger to face, 
 For thus to old seers spoke his terrible voice 
 " Expecting grim banquet, the ravens rejoice ; 
 Up, up with the hatchet, long rusting in clay, 
 And wash, in red waters, the rust-stain away !" 
 
THE COTTAGE. 59 
 
 XIII. 
 
 The lady heard the tidings dread, 
 
 With hand upon her forehead prest, 
 
 As if to lull its throb to rest ; 
 
 Then, in despairing accent, said 
 
 " Has Earth no place of bloom and light, 
 
 Where Peace may spread her wing of white 'I 
 
 No pleasant isle, amid the sea, 
 
 Where mortal finds not misery 1 
 
 I nursed a pleasant dream that here 
 
 Our lives away would gently glide, 
 Like summer currents, calm and clear, 
 That meet no rocks in their career, 
 
 While mingling in one peaceful tide- 
 That virgin-charms, unknown to France, 
 In this New World would woo the glance : 
 But vainly have we reared yon cot, 
 Environed by the mossy wild ; 
 For sorrow, in thy greenest spot, 
 Oh Earth, attends a thankless child ! 
 The little prattler, on whose face 
 A husband's image I could trace, 
 W^as early torn from my embrace ! 
 And now the men of blood are nigh, 
 With battle-smoke to hide the sky, 
 And drive us from our forest-home, 
 Like animals of chase to roam. 
 
60 YONNONDIO. 
 
 Ah ! since that dark and stormy night 
 
 Of hurried and clandestine flight, 
 
 When filial duty tried in vain 
 
 Lost sway from tyrant Love to gain 
 
 And, reckless of the dreadful ire, 
 
 And curse of imprecating sire, 
 
 I scourged my palfrey, fleet as wind, 
 
 And left ancestral towers behind, 
 
 No sunbeams on my path have shone 
 
 My heart my heart no quiet known ! 
 
 Though deep my guilt, and dark my lot, 
 
 Thy bride, De Grai, rebukes thee not ; 
 
 For on the suitor for his child, 
 
 A father fondly gazed, and smiled, 
 
 Till the black falsehood of my page 
 
 Changed his encouragement to rage. 
 
 I loved thee then, and love thee still, 
 
 Bright object of my girlish dream ! 
 
 For herbless waste, or land of ill, 
 
 Would Eden, thou beside me, seem." 
 
 XIV. 
 
 In tone of cheerfulness replied 
 The hunter to his weeping bride 
 " Let shadows from thy troubled heart, 
 Like mist before the morn depart ; 
 And trust in Him who reigns above, 
 Though now the sky is overcast, 
 
THE COTTAGE. 61 
 
 For green, unfading home of love, 
 And days of sunny calm at last. 
 Though soon will wake to fearful life 
 The rushing hurricane of strife, 
 And bathe in blood the sinless flowers 
 That bloom in these primeval bowers, 
 Mine arm, while weapon it can wield, 
 Will buckler prove to thee, and shield ; 
 And angels, if I fall, will bear 
 To Providence my dying prayer, 
 And He will guard his stricken child 
 Amid the perils of the wild. 
 
 xv. 
 
 " Thanks, dearest, for thy words of cheer ! 
 TKey fill with melody mine ear ; 
 And, hushing stormy doubt to rest, 
 Give birth to hope within my breast. 
 Oh God ! forgive a thing of dust, 
 Who, in a dark, desponding hour, 
 In Thee forgot to place her trust, 
 Unmindful of thy saving power. 
 Though black the welkin overhead, 
 Thine eye the light of joy can shed ; 
 Though whelming surges round me roll, 
 Thy whisper can becalm my soul, 
 And change the thunders of the sea 
 To low and lute-like melody." 
 
62 YONNONDIO. 
 
 XTI. 
 
 On the blue sky, with face upraised, 
 One moment brief, the lady gazed ; 
 No cloud was on her forehead fair, 
 Fled were the shadows of despair, 
 And her bland countenance, the while, 
 Was lighted by a holy smile ; 
 As if she read of sin effaced, 
 In bright, celestial letters traced, 
 And heard, though darkly-born of earth, 
 The melody of golden lyres, 
 While creatures of immortal birth 
 Woke sweetly the transporting wires. 
 On-yit-ha, though untamed and rude, 
 On the fair daughter of old France, 
 In hushed and graceful attitude, 
 Fixed his admiring glance ; 
 And Wun-nut-hay, his forest-dove, 
 Gazed on her with a look of love, 
 While the proud husband, to her side 
 Advancing with a rapid stride, 
 His arm affectionately threw 
 Around her neck of snowy hue. 
 
 XVII. 
 
 " Betake thee to thy favorite spot, 
 Yon vine-hung arbor near the cot, 
 Where, guarded from the summer heat, 
 
THE COTTAGE. 63 
 
 Is rudely framed a rustic seat, 
 And the wild cherry-tree in bloom 
 Gives out a delicate perfume : 
 There, blithely in the cooling shade, 
 A garland for thy temples braid, 
 Or watch the hum -bird while around 
 The rose he wheels with buzzing sound, 
 Or list while gentle Wun-nut-hay 
 Narrates some legend, strange and old, 
 To speed the weary hours away, 
 Of gifted seer and sachem bold. 
 Hence to the council-fire I go, 
 Where, planning ruin for the foe, 
 
 Old Can-ne-hoot and chiefs convene ; 
 My homeward whistle will be heard, 
 Ere twilight warns the roving bird 
 To mossy perch in forest green. 
 Why look around with timorous eye, 
 As if the day of doom was nigh, 
 
 The fierce invader close at hand 1 
 Between him and our cabin lie 
 
 Full many roods of forest-land : 
 And ere his banner courts the gale 
 That oversweeps this beauteous vale, 
 And the wood-warblers flee afar, 
 Scared by the thunder-tones of war, 
 I will provide a still retreat, 
 And thither, Blanche, conduct thy feet. 
 
64 YONNONDIO. 
 
 XVIII. 
 
 In haste the hunter breathed adieu ; 
 Then, guided by On-yit-ha, cross'd 
 The level glade, and passing through 
 The archway of the grove, to view 
 
 In leafy gloom was lost. 
 The forester his path pursued, 
 With look cast down in musing mood : 
 He paused not when his careless tread 
 Awoke the glittering copper-head ; 
 Nor did his deadly carbine ring 
 When bounded by the bleating doe, 
 And the wild crane, on heavy wing, 
 Rose from still pond, in dingle low. 
 Unnoted by his glance, the bear 
 Went growling to his distant lair : 
 Dark thoughts, a melancholy train, 
 And sting of self-reproach, we fain 
 Once felt, would never feel again, 
 Within his heart's most deep recess 
 Unsealed the spring of bitterness. 
 
 XIX. 
 
 "Alone the blame fall on my head!" 
 Communing with himself he said ; 
 " I lured her from a sunny clime, 
 Brig-ht with the wrecks of olden time, 
 
THE COTTAGE. 65 
 
 The luxuries of titled Pride, 
 
 And vineyards on each green hill-side; 
 
 Attendants waiting on her word, 
 
 Clad in the livery of their lord ; 
 
 Her favorite bower, and castled dome, 
 
 Amid the cultured fields of Gaul, 
 
 With me across the sea to roam, 
 
 And told her that a forest-home 
 
 Was brighter than a father's hall 
 
 That fruits would blush on every tree, 
 
 And air be fraught with melody 
 
 That life would prove one summer-morn 
 
 Fragrant with blossoms newly-born, 
 
 While Heaven would weave for us a charm 
 
 To banish ill and ward off harm. 
 
 Alas ! the love of womankind, 
 
 How deep, how lasting, but how blind ! 
 
 She laughed with joy, believing true 
 
 The portraiture of bliss I drew, 
 
 Foreseeing not a father wear 
 
 For her the crimson blush of shame ; 
 Affliction whitening his hair, 
 
 And scandal busy with her name 
 
 xx. 
 
 Thus communed with himself De Grai, 
 Proceeding on his woodland-way, 
 Until a loud, long, fearful cry 
 
 F2 
 
66 YONNONDIO. 
 
 Awoke him from his revery ; 
 
 And searchingly he fixed his glance 
 
 On the red warrior in advance, 
 
 Who stood, like form of sculptor rare, 
 
 With face directed toward the river, 
 And scalp-lock fluttering in the air, 
 
 And shaft drawn partly from the quiver. 
 Again that startling cry was heard, 
 Harsh as the croak of carrion-bird, 
 When prey, long watched, expires at last, 
 Alluring to a red repast ; 
 And far more dismal than the scream 
 Of the fierce panther in the night ; 
 When the bold hunter, from his dream 
 Amid the leaves, his sylvan bed, 
 Wakes with a shudder of affright, 
 And scans the broad boughs overhead, 
 Expecting momently to feel 
 The mangling tush, and claw of steel. 
 
 XXI. 
 
 ' Pale brother, haste !' On-yit-ha said, 
 And grasped convulsively his bow, 
 " Our runner, with impatient tread, 
 Brings tidings of the ruthless foe : 
 Haste ! for the soil beneath our feet, 
 Ere morrow ends, may blush with gore, 
 And bosoms that now warmly beat, 
 
THE COTTAGE. 67 
 
 Pierced by the victor, throb no more ; 
 
 That shout, still ringing in the dell, 
 
 Announces wo I know it well !" 
 
 De Grai pursued his tawny guide 
 
 With fleeter foot and longer stride ; 
 
 The swamp they threaded, and around 
 
 Impenetrable thickets wound, 
 
 Whose solemn depths of twilight-gloom 
 
 Day could not enter, and illume ; 
 
 Nor paused the savage scene to view, 
 
 WTiile the dread warning louder grew : 
 
 Then crossing streams, obscure with shade, 
 
 Haunts by the lonely heron made, 
 
 And where the wood-duck reared her brood 
 
 In deep, unbroken solitude, 
 
 Reached a broad opening in the wood. 
 
 XXII. 
 
 Fair was the scene ! before the gaze 
 Lay verdant fields of twinkling maize, 
 
 Bared to the full, bright blaze of day ; 
 And meads, to charm romantic eye, 
 Whereon the grass was thick and high, 
 
 Spread their green carpets far away. 
 Oft had the youthful Chevalier 
 Paused, in pursuit of antlered deer, 
 
 That fairy landscape to behold, 
 Charmed by the painted tribe of flowers, 
 
68 YONNONDIO. 
 
 Frail offspring of June's laughing showers, 
 
 And Nature's richest mould : 
 But heeding not its beauties now, 
 He hurried on with heated brow, 
 And sent, though on enchanted ground, 
 No glance of admiration round. 
 Tall orchards, near the river-shore, 
 The germs of bright abundance bore; 
 And, farther on, in clusters dark, 
 Stood many cone-like huts that sent, 
 From open roofs of cedarn bark, 
 Blue smoke-wreaths toward the firmament. 
 Though in the school of Vauban trained, 
 De Grai had often wielded lance, 
 And his fierce charger sternly reigned 
 On the red battle-field for France, 
 The scene before him in his soul 
 Roused a deep dread that mocked control. 
 
 XXIII. 
 
 A rugged structure, low and long, 
 Was circled by a savage throng, 
 
 Armed, decked and painted for the fight ; 
 While sachem, seer and chiefs of fame, 
 To light the fire of council, came 
 
 With brows more dark than night. 
 A thousand scalp-locks, trimmed with care, 
 Streamed like wild coursers' manes in air, 
 
THE COTTAGE. 69 
 
 When, riderless, they turn to fly : 
 Dark, glowing eyes destruction breathed, 
 And the long dagger was unsheathed, 
 
 The hatchet whirled on high : 
 The chich-hi-kon, full loudly blown, 
 Gave out lugubrious monotone, 
 And drum of hollow block of oak 
 And o'erdrawn hide of wild-deer jnade, 
 Rung to the war-club's measured stroke, 
 While the deep booming music woke 
 
 The sleeping echoes of the shade. 
 
 XXIV. 
 
 The weak and tottering old man, 
 
 Whose arm was shrunken with decay, 
 
 Roused by the tocsin of his clan, 
 
 Grasped the dread implement of fray ; 
 
 And sternly moved amid the crowd, 
 
 Forgetful that his form was bowed, 
 
 And that his palsied limbs would fail, 
 
 And falter on the battle-trail. 
 
 XXV. 
 
 The nimble stripling, who had thrown 
 The tomahawk in sport alone 
 From the light echo of whose tread 
 The timid mink would scarce have fled 
 Who hitherto, on his young cheek, 
 
70 YONNONDIO. 
 
 Had never worn war's clouded streak, 
 Whose puny shaft had only drawn 
 The blood of bird or bounding fawn, 
 Fired by the common danger, round 
 His slender waist the war-belt bound, 
 And, proudly for the conflict plumed, 
 The bearing of the brave assumed. 
 
 XXVI. 
 
 Old spoils of victory, that long 
 
 Had hung upon the wigwam wall, 
 Forth by the tribe were brought with song, 
 
 Ancestral glory to recall, 
 And kindle in the son desire 
 To rival in renown his sire. 
 Scalps from the fallen rudely torn, 
 
 In smoke cured artfully, and dried, 
 By wrinkled hags about were borne 
 
 With gestures of ferocious pride. 
 From some, on crimson hoop extended, 
 The grisly hair of age depended, 
 And thick, coarse locks, unblanched by time, 
 Of manhood butchered ere his prime : 
 From others, in soft clusters, hung 
 The silken ringlets of the young, 
 And the long tress of golden grain 
 That told of Christian mother slain. 
 De G-rai a look of horror cast 
 
 
THE COTTAGE. 
 
 On these sad records of the past, 
 And felt a sense of terror tame 
 The beating pulses of his frame 
 An icy chill, one instant, stay 
 Life's crimson current on its way. 
 
 XXVII. 
 
 Dark arms were menacingly raised, 
 While on the hideous spoil he gazed : 
 Though Can-ne-hoot in peace had met 
 
 The stranger from his country driven 
 Had smoked with him the calumet, 
 
 And food and habitation given, 
 His garb and face revealed him one 
 Whose race were from the Rising Sun 
 A subject of the " Grand Monarque" 
 Whose disciplined and banded braves 
 Were piercing forests, deep and dark, 
 
 To awe their nation into slaves 
 Then quench in blood their cabin-fires, 
 And trample on the green old graves 
 
 Of patriarchal sires. 
 
 XXVIII. 
 
 Amid that raging crew alone, 
 
 111 would the son of France have fared ; 
 For daggers, wrought of flint and bone, 
 
 With- fell intent were round him bared, 
 
72 YONNONDIO. 
 
 And knives, that Christian blood had shed, 
 Described bright circles round his head : 
 But the fierce natives of the wood, 
 Though madly thirsting for his blood, 
 
 From murderous assault forebore, 
 Restrained by their young Sagamore, 
 Who forced, through groups of warriors tall, 
 A passage to the Council-Hall. 
 
 END OF CANTO SECOND. 
 
YONNONDIO. 
 
 CANTO THIRD. 
 
 THE WAR DANCE. 
 
 Wake, children of Genundewah ! the cry 
 Of fierce Invasion floats upon the gale ; 
 The spirits of the dead are rushing by, 
 
 And white-haired seers are prophesying bale : 
 The Dove of Peace hath left our lovely vale 
 Great Yonnondio leads the host of France, 
 And in the coming battle will prevail, 
 If we neglect to sharpen knife and lance, 
 And round the red post wheel, in war's terrific dance. 
 
 Swear that the foe's insulting foot shall not 
 On one green grave in triumph be impressed ; 
 For ever dear to brave men is the spot 
 
 Where the white bones of their forefathers rest, 
 The Land of Shadows, in the clear south-west, 
 Hath hunting grounds known only to the just, 
 
74 YONNONDIO. 
 
 And the red warrior of the dauntless breast : 
 Snatch, then, the buried tomahawk from dust, 
 And clothe its blade, once more, in battle's gory crust. 
 
 i. 
 
 De Grai, in Christian Court, had seen 
 Anointed Louis on his throne, 
 Clad in appareling whose sheen 
 The lustre of the stars outshone, 
 While the bold Barons of the land, 
 Below him stood, a knightly band, 
 With churchmen proud the crosier bearing, 
 And dark, monastic vesture wearing, 
 And less of awe, while liegemen knelt 
 In presence of their monarch, felt, 
 Than by old Can-ne-hoot, attired 
 In shaggy toga, was inspired, 
 While, proudly as became a king, 
 
 Presiding in monarchal state, 
 His glance surveyed the tawny ring 
 Of counsellors that round him sate. 
 
 n. 
 
 Stern Time, in robbing form and face 
 Of youthful symmetry and grace, 
 Could not subdue his pride, or dim 
 The hawk-like fierceness of his gaze j 
 And brawny chest and iron limb 
 
THE WAR DANCE. 75 
 
 Unwasted were by length of days : 
 His lofty forehead was a page 
 Rough with the wrinkling lines of age ; 
 His port majestical and proud, 
 His form commanding and unbowed, 
 Like some old oak, in ancient moss, 
 And rough, indented rind encased, 
 From whose gray trunk the vernal gloss 
 Had many a lustrum been effaced ; 
 Still lifting loftily his head, 
 Without one bough decayed or dead, 
 Though many a howling storm had tried 
 In dust to hurl his honors down 
 Asunder rend his arms of pride, 
 And scatter to the winds his crown. 
 
 m. 
 
 " The bear-skin for Od-deen-yo* spread," 
 With courteous mien the sachem said 
 " Though scion of a race I scorn, 
 And far beyond the Salt-Lake born ; 
 Though pale his face, like dogwood-flowers, 
 And garb and language unlike ours, 
 Fill with ke-nic-kee-nic the bowl ! 
 He is a Seneca in soul, 
 For sundering the filial band 
 That bound him to his native land, 
 
 * White Chief. 
 
76 YONNONDIO. 
 
 Here, where the herding red-deer roam, 
 With one fair flower he makes his home, 
 De Grai the seat assigned him took, 
 With hesitating step and look; 
 Far murmurs ran the circle round, 
 
 And many a warrior gaunt and grim, 
 His teeth, in half-hushed anger, ground, 
 
 And scowled with fiendish hate on him. 
 Some, from long pipes of purple stain 
 Significant of battle, smoked ; 
 And plumes that decked each stem of cane 
 Torn from the wild swan, owl and crane, 
 
 In slaughter had been soaked ; 
 And others from their girdles drew 
 Pipe-tomahawks of sanguine hue, 
 
 Adorned with shell and wampum-bead; 
 And fragrant clouds rose blue and wreathed, 
 While through the hollow haft they breathed 
 
 The vapors of the weed. 
 
 IV. 
 
 On bosoms bare the figures rude 
 Of wolf and eagle were tattoo 'd ; 
 And never knight of high descent 
 At joust or glittering tournament, 
 Or on the trampled battle-field, 
 
 While blood was emptied out like wine 
 Bore, on bright bannaret and shield, 
 
THE WAR DANCE. 77 
 
 The badge and motto of his line, 
 More proudly than each savage man 
 The wild escutcheon of his clan. 
 
 v. 
 
 Linked with armorial signs that blaze 
 On knightly armor of old days, 
 Are tales of high achievement done, 
 Great cities stormed, and conflicts won : 
 Hence scion of a line renowned 
 Feels eye dilate and pulses bound, 
 When he beholds, with burning glance, 
 His father's ancient cognizance : 
 The red man boasts no herald-roil, 
 But views, with equal pride of soul, 
 The painted symbol on his skin 
 Allied to memory of sires, 
 Famed for their prowess, while within 
 
 His bosom wakes heroic fires. 
 Like them he pants for stirring deeds; 
 In the swift chase the moose outspeeds ; 
 Directs with skill his birchen bark, 
 Though wave be loud and heaven be dark ; 
 And scorns to fly, though round him rise 
 A myriad of enemies : 
 He swears, like them, no fear to know 
 When stake-bound by exulting foe, 
 And though around his tortured frame 
 
78 YONNONDIO. 
 
 In crimson volume rolls the flame, 
 And his flesh shrivels like the grass 
 When death-fires o'er the prairie pass, 
 He breathes in that dread moment out, 
 With taunting tone, his battle-shout ; 
 Recounts, while glorying in pain, 
 The numbers he has scalped and slain, 
 And chaunts, with faint, expiring breath, 
 His stern, defying song of death. 
 
 VI. 
 
 Old Can-ne-hoot arose at last, 
 And back his shaggy mantle cast 
 In the red girdle, round his waist, 
 His fur tobacco-pouch replaced 
 On the grim throng a moment gazed ; 
 Then, while his tinkling bracelets rung, 
 His arm with grace unstudied raised, 
 And spoke thus in his woodland-tongue. 
 
 VII. 
 
 " Victors in many a forest fight, 
 The bird of peace has taken flight ! 
 The tree in which she framed her nest, 
 Smoothed the bright feathers on her breast, 
 And tuned her throat to notes so clear 
 That the keen hunter paused to hear, 
 Is robbed of its majestic bough, 
 
THE WAR DANCE. 79 
 
 Is shorn of its broad, leafy shield, 
 And from its trunk, dishonored now, 
 Profaning hands the bark have peeled, 
 And given to the naked wood 
 The deep, terrific stain of blood. 
 Oft, brothers, have the paths of war 
 From home and country led us far 
 The Twig-twee in his distant wild 
 Our vow of vengeance heard and smiled; 
 But vainly was his good bow strung, 
 While on the wind our war-cry rung 
 As well might osier frail essay, 
 The whirlwind on its march to stay, 
 As tribe, who quaffs Miami's wave, 
 Abide fierce onslaught of the brave. 
 Our hatchet smote him on the head ; 
 Wild wolves upon his flesh have fed ; 
 Red, crackling flames devoured his cot ; 
 Pappoose and squaw, we spared them not. 
 
 VIII. 
 
 "Our muffled tread at midnight deep, 
 The Huron heard not in his sleep 
 Still as the dew by evening wept, 
 We stole upon him while he slept ; 
 The knife, in darkness, pierced his side, 
 The gore upon his scalp is dried. 
 The prowling Eries of the Lake 
 Our chain of friendship dared to break ; 
 
80 YONNONDIO. 
 
 The waters moan upon the shore, 
 Their feet will print its sands no more. 
 As flame consumes the yellow leaves, 
 When the sad wind of autumn grieves, 
 Their warriors perished in the fire 
 Of our wild, unrelenting ire 
 We took no captives, and their race 
 Among the tribes, have now no place : 
 Well was the work of ruin done ! 
 Their bones bleach in the rain and sun ; 
 Hushed are the chase-grounds where they ranged; 
 To ashes cold their huts are changed ; 
 Their bows are broken, and the deer, 
 Unscared by shaft, is browsing near. 
 
 IX. 
 
 " Regardless^ of our ancient fame, 
 
 Our conquests, and our dreaded name, 
 
 Fierce Yonnondio and his band 
 
 Are thronging in our forest-land. 
 
 And ask ye why with banner spread 
 
 His force the Frank hath hither led 1 
 
 We scorched with fire the skulking hounds 
 
 Who dared to cross our hunting-grounds, 
 
 A trading, base, dishonest band, 
 
 Who, in exchange for pelts, had given 
 
 Guns, lead and black explosive sand, 
 
 To tribes our power had westward driven : 
 
THE WAR DANCE. 81 
 
 The wise no vain distinction know 
 Between sly fox who arms a foe, 
 And hands that boldly deal the blow. 
 
 x. 
 
 " Shall warriors who have tamed the pride 
 Of rival nations, far and wide, 
 
 At their own hearths be thus defied ? 
 Shall it be said the beast of prey 
 His den abandoned far away, 
 And, seeking out the hunter, found 
 His aim less true, less deep the wound 1 
 Shall it be told in other days, 
 The tomahawk we feared to raise, 
 While the green hillocks, where repose 
 The cherished dust of woodland-kings, 
 Insulted by the march of foes, 
 
 Gave back indignant echoings 1 
 Base is the bosom that will quake 
 With one degrading throb of fear, 
 When fame and country are at stake, 
 Though an armed troop of fiends are near ! 
 Oh ! never can such craven tread 
 The happy chase-grounds of the dead ; 
 Between him and that fount of bliss 
 Will yawn a deep and dread abyss ; 
 And doomed will be his troubled ghost 
 To range that land forever more, 
 
YONNONDIO. 
 
 Upon whose lone and barren coast 
 
 The black and bitter waters roar. 
 
 The clime of everlasting day, 
 
 Where groves, all red with fruitage, wave, 
 
 And beauty never fades away, 
 
 Is only trodden by the brave." 
 
 XI. 
 
 
 In answer to the bold harangue, 
 
 Each warrior from his bear-skin sprang, 
 
 And, ominous of coming strife, 
 
 Clashed tomahawk and scalping knife. 
 
 A signal by the chief was made 
 
 To close the Council, and obeyed : 
 
 His eloquence of look and word 
 
 Dark depths of every heart had stirred ; 
 
 And 'twas no time in dull debate 
 
 For other tongues of war to prate, 
 
 Warned by the loud foreboding cry 
 
 Of his fleet scout that foes were nigh. 
 
 With joy in his stern mien, he scann'd 
 
 The waving scalp-locks of his band ; 
 
 Heard, with pleased ear, their vengeful vows, 
 
 And marked with pride their frowning brows. 
 
 In single file he then arrayed 
 
 His quivered brethren of the shade, 
 
 And a slow dance, with measured tread, 
 
 Around the painted war-post led : 
 
THE WAR DANCE. 83 
 
 Well timing to the fall of feet, 
 The hollow-sounding drum was beat ; 
 Maize-kernels in dry gourd-shell swayed, 
 By hand of crone, dull rattling made, 
 And wildly rose the chaunted notes 
 Of battle from a thousand throats. 
 
 XII. 
 
 < 
 WAR SONG OF THE ON-GUI-HON-WL 
 
 1. 
 
 Red sons of the forest ! leave woman and hearth ; 
 Too long have our tomahawks slumbered in earth ; 
 Array 'd in the garb that your ancestors wore, 
 With arrows of death fill the quiver once more. 
 
 2. 
 
 Our seer has beheld, in the visions of night, 
 The chieftains of yore, and they whisper of fight ; 
 The song of the raven is sad in the wood, 
 Haste ! gorge, on the morrow, her younglings with 
 blood. 
 
 3 - 
 
 That man of our tribe who flees basely away, 
 When dirge for brave men is the clash of the fray, 
 Thenceforth, in the garb of a squaw, shall be drest 
 With our totem erased by the knife from his breast. 
 
84 YONNONDIO. 
 
 4. 
 
 Untrodden no more, let the wild-herbage grow 
 In yon leaf-shaded trial that conducts to the foe ; 
 But plain be the path by our war-parties worn, 
 While scalps, on red poles, by the bravest are borne. 
 
 5. 
 
 On-gui-hon-wi ! unite in one legion of dread, 
 Like the turbulent river by mountain streams fed ; 
 Then rushing, all painted and plumed for the fray, 
 Sweep the host of invasion, like drift-wood, away. 
 
 XIII. 
 
 
 Like cougar, mad with taste of blood, 
 
 A warrior darted from the throng, 
 While the dim arches of the wood 
 
 Rang with their gathering song 
 High overhead his hatchet raised, 
 While lightning from his eye-ball blazed, 
 Then buried in the solid oak 
 Its glittering blade with rending stroke. 
 Changed was the dance from measure slow 
 To frantic leap and deafening yell, 
 And on imaginary foe 
 An hundred weapons fell, 
 'Till, hacked and splintered to the ground, 
 In fragments lay the post around. 
 
THE WAR DANCE. 85 
 
 XIV. 
 
 Wild and more wild the tumult grew, 
 Amid the crazed, demoniac crew ; 
 Knives flashed, as man to man opposed ; 
 Dark forms in mimic combat closed ; 
 Upwhirled in clouds the summer dust ; 
 Quick blows were aimed, and furious thrust ; 
 With face convulsed the fallen gasped, 
 And murd'rous hands the scalp-lock grasped ; 
 Some from the swathing-board cut loose, 
 With seeming hate, the swart pappoose, 
 Then raised it, struggling, by the heel, 
 And pointed at its throat the steel ; 
 While others, on the trampled ground, 
 Limbs of the frantic mother bound, 
 And her shrill cry with laughter drowned. 
 Feigned was base flight and bold advance ; 
 Poised was the long, bone-headed lance ; 
 Stout arms the heavy war-club swayed ; 
 Elastic bows sharp twanging made ; 
 And mocked, with modulated tone, 
 Was victor-shout and dying groan. 
 
 xv. 
 
 A quavering whistle of the chief 
 Hushed suddenly the combat brief; 
 Succeeding to the sounds of fray, 
 
4 
 
 86 YONNONDIO. 
 
 Heard were the wind and leaves at play ; 
 
 Like graven figures of repose, 
 
 Stood friends and counterfeited foes, 
 
 Nor murmur breathed, or member stirred, 
 
 Awaiting but the signal-word. 
 
 Like stillness broods o'er grove and plain, 
 
 When by hath rolled the hurricane ; 
 
 Or on the bosom of the deep, 
 
 When bark hath found an ocean-sleep, 
 
 And shrieks, heard lately 'mid the roar 
 
 Of minute-guns, go up no more. 
 
 XVI. 
 
 
 Pleased was De Grai to mark the power 
 
 Of Can-ne-hoot in that dread hour; 
 The spell by which a breath subdued 
 The red man, in his wrathful mood, 
 And deference to rank, displayed 
 By those grim warriors of the shade, 
 In prompt compliance, tamed and still, 
 To one whose law was kingly will. 
 At length the sachem waved his hand, 
 And suddenly dispersed the band. 
 Repairing to his lodge, each brave 
 Fresh coat of paint his visage gave, 
 In the grim process trying well 
 His genius for the terrible ; 
 Inspected, with a careful glance, 
 
THE WAR DANCE. 87 
 
 Bow, arrows, knife and tapering lance- 
 Precaution that tried veteran takes, 
 Ere noiseless march on foe he makes. 
 
 xvn. 
 
 Approaching, grave of look, the place 
 
 Where stood De Grai with thoughtful face, 
 
 Him thus old Can-ne-hoot addrest : 
 
 " My totem gleams upon your breast, 
 
 But countrymen of thine are foes, 
 
 Who soon will hear our twanging bows : 
 
 Between these plains and their array, 
 
 Will lie an unobstructed way 
 
 That my adopted son may tread, 
 
 Without hair injured on his head." 
 
 " Thanks, father, thanks ! I duly prize 
 
 Thy noble offer ; but these eyes 
 
 May never^ I devoutly pray, 
 
 See sunlight of another day, 
 
 When comes the hour that we are found 
 
 Antagonists on conflict-ground! 
 
 I deem that wild ambition's lust 
 
 Impels great Yonnondio on, 
 
 To wage with thee a war unjust, 
 
 And never shall my sword be drawn, 
 
 Save on the side of truth and right ; 
 
 As neutral I will shun the fight." 
 
88 YONNONDIO. 
 
 XVIII. 
 
 " Enough ! ere shriek of death is heard, 
 
 Find refuge for thy singing bird ; 
 
 Then, far from battle's crushing stroke, 
 
 Sit on the mat of peace, and smoke : 
 
 In yon thick-walled and guarded hold, 
 
 Will crowd the helpless and the old, 
 
 And thither thy beloved one bear, 
 
 Ere fall of night's embrowning shades." 
 
 In view arose a gloomy square, 
 
 Hedged round with massy palisades, 
 
 By fallen trees, on every side, 
 
 Of ponderous trunk, well fortified, 
 
 Through which, though numerous and fierce, 
 
 Unscathed no charging band could pierce, 
 
 If missiles by the sheltered foe 
 
 Were boldly launched from gun and bow. 
 
 XIX. 
 
 " How can Od-deen-yo e'er repay 
 
 His generous father ?" cried De Grai ; 
 
 Ahungered and on weary feet 
 
 Came the pale wanderer and his spouse ; 
 
 You gave him venison to eat, 
 
 A cabin and a pleasant seat 
 
 Beneath the woodland boughs. 
 
 " Talk not of recompense," replied 
 
THE WAR DANCE. 89 
 
 The chief in tones of wounded pride : 
 " Scorned ever be that tribesman's name, 
 
 Unworthy of heroic sires, 
 Who basely would requital claim, 
 If pinched with want and weak of frame, 
 
 Sworn foeman food requires ; 
 Or roof above a hearth-stone warm, 
 To guard him from the pelting storm. 
 Who ever sought in peace my hut, 
 And found its door unkindly shut ? 
 Who ever, languishing in pain, 
 Asked Can-ne-hoot for help in vain ? 
 The wealth of that enchanted Isle 
 
 Chased vainly on the waters blue, 
 Though bending to his oar, the while, 
 
 The hunter speeds his bark canoe, 
 If piled before me in return 
 For friendly office, I would spurn /" 
 
 xx. 
 
 De G-rai rejoined not ; loud and high 
 Rose yell that ended colloquy j 
 Fixed, piercing glance the sachem turned 
 On point whence came that signal-call, 
 And lo ! his trusty scout discerned, 
 Staggering toward the Council-Hall ! 
 Dishevelled was his plumy crest ; 
 An arrow quivered in his breast \ 
 u2 
 
90 YONNONDIO. 
 
 Deeply-ensanguined was his skin 
 From naked waist to moccasin, 
 And feebly was his form upborne 
 By limbs relaxing, bruised and torn. 
 While reeling through the wondering crowd, 
 Gleamed his wild eye with triumph proud ; 
 For, baffling hounds, the worried bear, 
 Though sorely galled, had reached his lair. 
 With hand in his own life-blood drenched, 
 The chivalrous scalp-lock he clenched, 
 Denoting, by that gesture fierce, 
 That vainly did the arrow pierce, 
 Long as that martial lock of hair 
 Streamed like a flag in troubled air, 
 Preserved, mid danger, flight and strife, 
 From mangling edge of hostile knife. 
 
 XXI. 
 
 " What news 1 and why like hunted deer, 
 Though strong of arm and fleet of foot, 
 Pierced by the barb, comes Yuk-wi* here V 1 
 In calm, deep tone asked Can-ne-hoot. 
 " A bow-shot from the Hon-e-oye, 
 Armed and impatient to destroy, 
 Out-lying Hurons raised the yell : 
 Wounded, the fleetest of their race 
 I distanced in a weary chase, 
 
 * The Bear. 
 
THE WAR DANCE. 91 
 
 Through thicket, brake and fell. 
 An hundred rods or more beyond 
 The outlet of Au-tau-gua Pond, 
 Where, by dark stream, the trail is cross'd, 
 Glimpse of the skulking knaves I lost. 
 When air the swift bald eagle cleaves, 
 Lean, cawing crows behind he leaves 
 Round my remains the wolfish crew 
 Will never raise the death-halloo, 
 For thanks to Ou-we-nee-you still 
 
 My scalp is" 
 
 He could speak no more, 
 But trembled with a wintry chill, 
 And from his throat in crimson rill 
 
 Gushed forth the strangling gore : 
 He groped about, as if dun night 
 Had suddenly excluded light ; 
 For weapon in his beaded belt 
 Instinctively the fingers felt, 
 As if the warrior wished to try, 
 With rending death, the mastery ; 
 Then, gasping, fell upon the sod, 
 A reddened corse a lifeless clod. 
 
 XXII. 
 
 Sped from the throng, to wail his fate, 
 His young, untimely-widowed mate ; 
 Tore her long hair of raven gloss, 
 
92 YONNONDIO. 
 
 At thought of her distracting loss ; 
 Then flung herself upon the dead, 
 With piercing shriek and arms outspread. 
 Nor moved, nor saddened, nor amazed, 
 Upon that scene the sachem gazed : 
 Deep calm upon his brow reposed, 
 Commanding will emotion curbed, 
 And not one outward sign disclosed 
 That inly was the soul disturbed. 
 De Grai the luckless scout had heard, 
 With heart by drear foreboding stirred, 
 For near his cot, embowered in green, 
 Last was the prowling Huron seen. 
 Unmindful of deportment grave, 
 That well becomes an Indian brave, 
 Though babes and women load the gale 
 With the wild notes of wo and wail, 
 On-yit-ha stood with flashing eye, 
 And muttered in an angry voice, 
 Assured that danger hovered nigh 
 The dusky maiden of his choice : 
 Then, holding with his sire discourse, 
 Besought him quickly to detail 
 A score of bowmen from his force ; 
 Northward to scour the river-vale, 
 Then safely to the fortress guide 
 Od-deen-yo's fair, endangered bride. 
 Permission prompt the sachem gave ; 
 
THE WAR DANCE. 93 
 
 And, guarded by an escort brave, 
 Led by the Night-Hawk of his clan, 
 De Grai, through swamp and bosky dell, 
 Pursued a path that parallel 
 With the dark river ran. 
 
 XXIII. 
 
 While on, the scouting party fared, 
 
 Old Can-ne-hoot for march prepared, 
 
 With the main body of his braves, 
 
 To guard his nation's hallowed graves. 
 
 " Loved grove, in which our dead are laid, 
 
 Where droop long boughs their beds to shade, 
 
 Will be our place of ambuscade ; 
 
 And those degenerate hounds 
 May Ut-co bear to realms of night, 
 Who will not like their fathers fight 
 For home and hunting-lands in sight 
 
 Of those green, mossy mounds !" 
 Thus speaking, by a low, shrill whoop, 
 The chief in single file his troop 
 
 Formed, eager for the fray : 
 A swamp, of depth unsunn'd and dread, 
 In rear of his rude castle spread ; 
 And thither the red monarch led, 
 With rapid, light and stag-like tread, 
 
 His picturesque array. 
 
 END OP CANTO THIRD. 
 

YONNONDIO. 
 
 CANTO FOURTH. 
 
 THE BOWER. 
 
 Danger's black cloud comes rolling from the north, 
 
 And gleams of lightning round its edges play ; 
 But tameless sons of Liberty go forth, 
 
 In thicket seldom visited by day, 
 To meet the vaunting spoilers on their way : 
 Back, Yonnondio ! ere your knightly crest 
 Is shorn of half its glory in the fray : [wrest 
 
 The lords, from whom your monarch fain would 
 
 With iron hand a realm, are Romans of the West. 
 
 ft 
 
 Their march no glad spectator cheered ; 
 No helmet shone, no war-horse reared, 
 Nor martial instrument was heard, 
 Nor banner by the breeze was stirred : 
 
96 YONNONDIO. 
 
 Their feet so lightly touched the ground 
 That not an echo woke to sound ; 
 And, glittering not with vain display, 
 They moved like shadows on their way, 
 Or misty shapes that fleetly glide 
 When winds disturb the mountain-side. 
 Sad non-combatants, left behind, 
 Gazed while a trace could be defined 
 Of that long line of warriors grim, 
 Erect of port, and lithe of limb ; 
 And when they vanished through 
 The dusky portals of the wood, 
 In groups the young and helpless stood 
 Some form beloved to view. 
 
 n. 
 
 The devious way on which they marched, 
 By braided boughs was overarched ; 
 And, right and left, spread far away 
 Fens, only lit by fire-fly's ray, 
 Dark with a tangled growth of vine, 
 Black ash, huge water-oak and pine, 
 Mixed with red cedar, mossed and old, 
 Set firmly in the watery mould. 
 Here, covered with a slime of green, 
 Stagnant and turbid pools were seen 
 Edged round with wild, aquatic weeds, 
 Long-bladed flag and clustering reeds, 
 
THE BOWER. 97 
 
 Pond-lilies, oily-leaved and pale, 
 
 Red willow and the alder frail : 
 
 There, skeletons of groves gone by, 
 
 Sad objects to poetic eye ! 
 
 Like monarchs by the battle-blast 
 
 Assailed and overthrown at last, 
 
 Wasted and torn in bough and stem, 
 
 And robbed of leaf-wrought diadem, 
 
 Lay rotting in their barky mail, 
 
 Indifferent to sun and gale. 
 
 Deep hollows in the miry clay, 
 
 Marked where their roots once spread away, 
 
 Now mixed with many a rugged mound 
 
 Formed when their fastenings were unbound, 
 
 Or wrenched, like gossamer, in twain, 
 
 By the wild, rushing hurricane. 
 
 in. 
 
 A stranger, though in woodcraft taught, 
 
 Would find that skill availed him nought 
 
 In that dark thicket, if astray 
 
 By hunted quarry lured away, 
 
 Though well each haunt and covert lone 
 
 To the brown forest-child was known. 
 
 Extending to its far-off bound, 
 
 A war-path, through the centre, wound, 
 
 So blind that practiced eye in vain, 
 
 For mark to guide the foot, would strain. 
 
98 YONNONDIO. 
 
 Now, all impression of the route, 
 In gurgling runnel, was washed out : 
 Anon, where deeper grew the shade 
 By intertwisted branches made, 
 Its crooked, winding course from sight 
 Was curtained by primeval night. 
 
 IV. 
 
 When the dark chieftain and his band, 
 Emerging from the swampy land, 
 Reached the dim borders of the grove 
 That glooms around the " Haunted Cove," 
 The tempered glow of weary day, 
 Proclaiming t]ie approach of night, 
 To gold transmuted leaf and spray 
 On upland-swell and wooded height ; 
 And, calmly in the western sky, 
 Resplendent emblems of repose ! 
 Grouped clouds more delicate of dye 
 Than tintings of the half-blown rose. 
 A moment, in the mellow light, 
 Shone beaded belt and hatchet bright ; 
 A moment, from the yellow beam, 
 Ring, band and bracelet caught a gleam ; 
 Then the dark wood of boughs inweaved, 
 Within its depths the troop received. 
 
THE BOWER. 99 
 
 * 
 
 V. 
 
 Beneath tall beeches, gray with eld, 
 Their labyrinthine course they held, 
 While well the hindmost of the line 
 From view concealed betraying sign ; 
 Sending keen glances in the rear, 
 Lifting bowed herb and grassy spear, 
 Or doubling, when the oozy ground 
 Yielded beneath the lightest foot, 
 Like hunted foxes when the hound 
 And hunter are in hot pursuit. 
 The red-breast, perched in arbor green, 
 Sad minstrel of the quiet scene 
 While hymning, for the dying sun, 
 Strains like a broken-hearted one, 
 Raised not her mottled wing to fly 
 As swept those silent warriors by. 
 The wood-cock, in his moist retreat, 
 Heard not the falling of their feet ; 
 On his dark roost the gray owl slept ; 
 Time with his drum the partridge kept, 
 Nor left the deer his watering-place, 
 So hushed, so noiseless was their pace. 
 Soon, partly veiled by bank and tree, 
 They scanned the rolling Genesee, 
 Catching, within his channeled bed, 
 Deep blushes from the sunset red, 
 
100 YONNONDIO. 
 
 And, stealing onward, reached a bay 
 Where light pirogues of white-wood lay, 
 Fashioned and hollowed out alone 
 By eating fire and gouge of stone. 
 Impelled by dip of tapering oar, 
 Sharp prows receded from the shore, 
 And, darting through the flashing waves 
 Afloat with full five hundred braves, 
 Soon rocked beneath the willows dank 
 That fringed the green, opposing bank. 
 
 VI. 
 
 Their leader breathed a low command, 
 And, guarding against hostile eye, 
 Their war-canoes were drawn to land, 
 And hidden in a thicket nigh ; 
 Then, patiently, each warrior plumed, 
 With cautious tread, the march resumed. 
 
 Til. 
 
 Changed are the hills that overbrow 
 The vale in which those heroes trod, 
 And, rudely, hind and younker now 
 Look on their ashes, while the plough 
 
 Disturbs the burial-clod ; 
 
 And, where those knights of bow and quiver 
 Paddled across the Pleasant River, 
 Burning to check in bold advance 
 
THE BOWEtf. 
 
 The serried chivalry of France, 
 Over the deep and hurrying tide 
 Yon red bridge flings its arch of pride. 
 The forest, many-toned and wide, 
 Hath vanished from the river-side 
 Gone are green roof and leafy screen 
 Like vapor yester-morning seen ; 
 Fierce wasting flame and crashing steel 
 Rang, long ago, its funeral-peal. 
 Where browsed the elk in other days, 
 Fat herds in thymy meadows graze ; 
 Wliere the fanged cougar, hating day, 
 Crouched by the deer-lick for his prey, 
 Heard is the tinkling bell of flocks, 
 And Ceres binds her wheaten shocks, 
 
 YIII. 
 
 From waves, once clear as mountain rill, 
 Where pike and bass the red man speared, 
 And home his bark by torchlight steered, 
 The finny tribe have disappeared, 
 
 Scared by the clacking mill ; 
 And, proudly, on the ruined homes 
 Of perished tribes, stand lordly domes : 
 But why the light and shade contrast 
 Of present hour, and clouded past, 
 While notes of war are on the gale, 
 And the plot thickens of my tale 1 
 i2 
 

 102 YONNONDIO. 
 
 IX. 
 
 The fires of day were fading fast 
 
 A deeper shade the forest cast, 
 
 While, through the hallowed place of graves. 
 
 Moved a long line of belted braves. 
 
 The hand of reverence and love 
 
 Had broken the green cope above, 
 
 For the red forest tribes believe, 
 
 When comes the radiant sunset-time, 
 The hillocks of the dead receive 
 
 Bright visits from the Better Clime. 
 Round each old tomb the paling rude, 
 From year to year, had been renewed, 
 And Indian girls had trained the vine, 
 Amid the pointed stakes, to twine, 
 And decked each space inclosed with flowers 
 Culled from the fairest woodland bowers. 
 Pale, velvet mosses over-crept 
 Tombs in which maid and mother slept, 
 And fragile infancy reposed, 
 A wilding flower untimely closed. 
 
 x. 
 
 There, mindless of the coming years, 
 Lay old and venerated seers, 
 Carved amulets of mystic sway 
 Commingling with their wasted clay. 
 
THE BOWER. 103 
 
 On the shagg'd fells of wolf and bear, 
 The mighty hunter mouldered there, 
 His favorite hound of courage tried, 
 And weapons buried by his side. 
 There, in his mantle richly-furred, 
 The lord of nations lay interr'd, 
 Forgetful of his ancient reign, 
 Couched on proud trophies of the slain; 
 His name a rousing watchword still, 
 Weak arm to nerve, faint heart to thrill ; 
 And there, his silver voice untuned, 
 Forever glazed his falcon eye, 
 The Cicero of wilds unpruned 
 
 Lay crumbling silently, 
 Lost on the wind, like chaunt of birds, 
 His passionate and burning words. 
 
 XI. 
 
 Magnificently robed and crowned 
 
 Old oaken monarchs stood around, 
 
 And through their boughs, thick-leaved and wide, 
 
 The low wind, like a mourner, sighed. 
 
 Their gray and patriarchal boles 
 
 Consorted well with funeral-knolls 
 
 Where slept, in gloom that knows no morn, 
 
 The tameless and the forest-born. 
 
104 YONNONDIO. 
 
 XII. 
 
 Proud piles and monuments of stone, 
 
 Reared in remembrance of the dead, 
 Befit the sepulchres alone 
 
 Of creatures in the city bred j 
 But when the Child of Nature dies, 
 
 Deep in the howling woodland waste, 
 The virgin-soil, in which he lies, 
 
 By other land-mark should be graced : 
 Let bark inclose his cold remains; 
 
 By thunder let his knell be rung ; 
 By warbling birds and pattering rains, 
 And the low zephyr that complains, 
 
 His soft melodious dirge be sung, 
 With trees about, unshorn and tall, 
 flu columns of memorial. 
 
 XIII. 
 
 Nigh ashes of the lost and loved, 
 Old Can-ne-hoot and party moved 
 
 With lingering gait and slow ; 
 And deemed, in every rustling oak, 
 That voices of the mighty spoke 
 
 Of fleet, approaching foe : 
 Imploring them, in hollow tones, 
 From outrage to defend their bones j 
 Commanding them to keep unstained 
 
THE BOWER. 105 
 
 The glory by their fathers gained; 
 And, deeply, in remembrance bear 
 That, after death, the brave repair 
 
 To happy homes and hunting grounds, 
 While cowards haunt, beyond the tomb, 
 A realm of black, unending gloom 
 
 Where bitter fruit abounds. 
 Oh, well did time and place conspire 
 
 To light proud souls in wild-wood bred 
 With sparks of pure, heroic fire 
 
 Fann'd from pale ashes of the dead ; 
 And bring before the mental sight 
 Departed chiefs, once famed in fight, 
 With war clubs, thickly notched, that told 
 How mighty were the men of old ! 
 
 XIV. 
 
 Northward the forest grew more blind, 
 And range of keenest glance confined : 
 Above, nor strip of welkin blue, 
 Nor opening in the leafy screen, 
 For twilight ray to glimmer through, 
 
 And cheer the hideous gloom, were seen, 
 The matted underwood below 
 Seemed haunt, alone, of reptile foe, 
 And briar-rose and bramble tall 
 Threw up a vegetable wall. 
 
106 TTONNONDIO. 
 
 XV. 
 
 Long, sylvan colonnades around, 
 Ranged dimly on the forest-floor, 
 By capitals of umbrage crowned, 
 
 A mighty canopy upbore; 
 And vines, that arched from tree to tree, 
 Increased the dread obscurity. 
 There often, in the mid-day light, 
 Would hoot the feathered anchorite, 
 And the dull bat, his neighbor meet, 
 Air with thin, volant membrane beat : 
 There, though effulgent morning reigned, 
 The little Katy-did complained, 
 And the lone muk-a-wiss was heard, 
 That solemn and prophetic bird, 
 Outpouring a melodious hymn 
 Beneath the shade of leaf and limb. 
 
 XVI. 
 
 It was a place by nature formed 
 For the brown Indian to abide, 
 
 With heart by love of country warmed, 
 The billows of the battle-tide ; 
 
 And there, beneath a dun arcade, 
 
 Halt by the Senecas was made. 
 
 Picked men were sent to watch the course, 
 
 And movements of the hostile force ; 
 
THE BOWER, 107 
 
 And by their chieftain charged to wile, 
 From glade and thinly wooded plain, 
 Both fiery Frank and Huron vile, 
 And with them artfully, the while, 
 A rapid, running fight maintain, 
 Till their close ranks, too late to pause, 
 And their lost vantage ground regain, 
 
 Were trapp'd in grim Destruction's jaws ! 
 
 XVII. 
 
 Posts, by the leader, were assigned 
 
 To the main body left behind : 
 
 Their practiced ears the signal caught, 
 
 And gliding, noiseless as the snake, 
 Each savage form a cover sought 
 
 In brambly copse and tufted brake, 
 Save the hawk-eyed and nimble spy r 
 W^io, stationed in a tree-top high 
 
 That towered above the grove profound, 
 Was charged to mock the wolf's long howl 
 If aught, like foe, was seen to prowl 
 
 Their hiding place around. 
 
 XVIII. 
 
 The muster at war's savage call 
 Of Senecas in Council Hall ; 
 Dismaying scene, and martial rite 
 Mingled with voices of affright ; 
 
108 YONtfONDlO. 
 
 Mad circling dance, mid shriek and yell, 
 As if Arch Fiend was working spell ; 
 Mock strife in which fierce howls of rage 
 Were loud as roar when hosts engage ; 
 The march, in long and ordered line, 
 Of warriors watching leader's sign ; 
 And craft wherewith, in thicket dread, 
 Snare for invading feet is spread 
 Too long, from Blanche and Wun-nut-hay, 
 Have errant Bard detained away. 
 
 XIX. 
 
 Romantic was the leafy bower, 
 
 Impervious to sun and shower, 
 
 By the young exile for his bride 
 
 Wove deftly near his cabin-side. 
 
 The roving linnet, for a perch 
 
 Screened from the noontide glare, in search, 
 
 Or butterfly, on gaudy wing, 
 
 Fatigued with restless wandering, 
 
 Above could not an entrance find, 
 
 So closely were the branches twined. 
 
 Detached by winds, that murmured through 
 
 The lattice-work impearled with dew, 
 
 Fell blossoms, whiter far than snow, 
 
 On the green, mossy floor below, 
 
 From thorn and wild plum, for the feet 
 
 Of the sweet minstrel carpet meet, 
 
THE BOWER. 109 
 
 Whose voice, attuned to mournful key, 
 Filled the bright haunt with melody. 
 
 xx. 
 
 HYMN. 
 1. 
 
 Father ! with pale hands uplifted, 
 
 Hear thy wandering child implore 
 That the cloud of wo be rifted, 
 
 And the light poured in once more ! 
 On Life's rose the wasting canker 
 
 Early hath impressed its mark ; 
 Where, oh where can safely anchor 
 
 Sorrow's frail and shattered bark? 
 
 2. 
 
 Once, around my pillow brightly, 
 
 From thy throne fell radiant gleams 
 Now, dim shapes of evil nightly 
 
 Fill with misery my dreams. 
 While I start and tremble, fearing 
 
 That Hope's star will never dawn, 
 In mine ear a voice of cheering 
 
 Whispers ' bear and struggle on /' 
 
 3. 
 
 "Child! though dark affliction ever 
 Wakes a serpent in thy breast, 
 
110 YONNONDIO. 
 
 And thy foot, aweary, never 
 Finds on earth a home of rest, 
 
 Robed in loveliness supernal, 
 Filled with joy's undying song, 
 
 Mansions, many and eternal, 
 
 To thy Father's house belong !" 
 
 XXI. 
 
 No melancholy voice, or sound, 
 Breathing of anguish and despair, 
 
 From sunny forest-aisles around, 
 On passing wind, was wafted there. 
 
 The cascade, darting down the hill, 
 
 And prattle of the vagrant rill ; 
 
 Exhilarating chaunt of bird, 
 
 And squirrel's gleesome bark were heard, 
 
 While vocal leaf and waving spray 
 
 Joined in a summer roundelay. 
 
 XXII. 
 
 The clear, bright azure of the sky, 
 
 Dappled with cloudy bars of white 
 Groves tossing their green plumes on high, 
 And flowers of deep, but varied dye, 
 
 Unfolding in the golden light, 
 And luring, from their waxen cells, 
 Bees to their nectar'd cups and bells, 
 Were breathing ministers of gladness, 
 
THE BOWER. Ill 
 
 Rebuking discontent and sadness : 
 But mindless of sweet sights and sounds 
 Refreshing balm of bud and flower, 
 Sate Blanche within the leafy bounds 
 
 Of her romantic bower, 
 And by her sde the forest maid 
 Enjoyed the cool and grateful shade. 
 
 XXIII. 
 
 " While the Great Spirit, from above, 
 Looks down upon the world in love, 
 And golden skies o'er all things bend, 
 Why, daughter of the distant land !" 
 Said Wun-nut-hay, her dusky friend, 
 " Press on thy brow that lily -hand ? 
 Why is thy heart the home of sighs, 
 Of briny drops thy mournful eyes ? 
 List! while heroic tale of old, 
 To wean thee from sad thought, is told !" 
 
 XXIV. 
 
 ON-NO-LEE. 
 
 [A LEGEND OP THE CANADICE.] 
 
 A beautiful lake is the Canadice, 
 
 And wild fowl dream on its breast unscared ; 
 Thy golden brooch, of costly price, 
 
 Is dim with its radiant wave compared. 
 
112 YONNONDIO. 
 
 Edged by a broad and silvery belt 
 
 Of pebbles bright, and glittering sand, 
 The waters into music melt 
 
 When breaking on the strand; 
 And its glimmering sheet of azure lies 
 
 Unvexed by loud and warring blast, 
 For green old hills, that round it rise, 
 Fence this fair mirror of the skies 
 
 From storms that journey past. 
 
 XXV. 
 
 A beautiful lake is the Canadice, 
 
 And warblings from its bosom clear 
 Go up by moonlight, and entice. 
 
 The hunter to pause and hear. 
 Oh ! mournful are the tones and low, 
 Like the mystic voice of the whip-po-wil, 
 When evening winds through the forest blow. 
 
 And other birds are still. 
 Ear never heard a sadder strain, 
 
 In the time of frost and falling leaves, 
 When brown and naked woods complain, 
 And the brook, late fed by summer rain, 
 
 For perished verdure grieves. 
 
 XXVI. 
 
 A beautiful lake is the Canadice, 
 
 And tribesmen dwelt on its banks of yore, 
 
THE BOWER. 113 
 
 But an hundred years have vanished thrice 
 
 Since hearth-stones smoked upon the shore : 
 The Munsee dreamed not of a foe ; 
 
 Unstrung were the warrior's arm and brow ; 
 And, couched on skins, he little thought 
 
 The fall of his nation was at hand. : 
 His ear no rattle of serpent caught, 
 No gliding ghost a warning brought 
 
 While came the Mengwe band. 
 Too late too late to fight or fly 
 
 Was rang the knell of his ancient power ; 
 His lip pealed forth no rallying cry, 
 From slumber he only woke to die 
 
 At the solemn midnight hour. 
 In gore his household-gods were drenched, 
 His altar-fires in gore were quenched ; 
 The wail of babe in blood was choked, 
 In blood his burial-place was soaked, 
 And, lighting up the midnight-heaven, 
 To flame were the huts of his people given. 
 
 XXVII. 
 
 Though tall oaks fell in their kingly pride, 
 The conqueror saved a trembling leaf; 
 
 Of that little clan all darkly dyed 
 
 Save On-no-lee, the cherished bride 
 Of their brave but luckless chief. 
 
 Morn dawned upon a frightful scene 
 
 K2 
 
114 YONNONDIO. 
 
 The Canadice in sunshine lay ; 
 But blood was on its margin green 
 
 A tribe was swept away. 
 On the blackened site of a town destroyed, 
 The raven a goodly meal enjoyed, 
 And the wolf called forth her whelps, to share 
 That banquet red, from her gloomy lair. 
 
 XXVIII. 
 
 Morn dawned and on their homeward track 
 The Mengwe, flushed with conquest, sped, 
 And, a far-famed leader, Mic-ki-nac, 
 
 That band of spoilers led. 
 To the red belt, his waist around, 
 The hapless On-no-lee was bound ; 
 Spared from the death-doom of her race, 
 The pomp of his return to grace, 
 And live the slave of one who bore 
 The scalp of her fallen Sagamore. 
 
 XXIX. 
 
 At noon, to snatch a light repast, 
 The party halted in the shade ; 
 But On-no-lee broke not her fast, 
 And in the dust, with loathing cast, 
 
 The food before her laid. 
 Oh ! woman wronged, within her soul 
 Feels fire flash up that mocks control, 
 
THE BOWER. 115 
 
 When the ruthless fiend, to whom she owes 
 The fearful sum of her blasting woes, 
 Is yielded up her prey by Fate, 
 And the dagger is nigh to second hate ! 
 
 XXX. 
 
 Mic-ki-nac sat on a fallen tree, 
 
 And of savory no-ke-Jiike partook, 
 And by his side was On-no-lee, 
 
 Survivor of the butchery, 
 Who eyed his knife with an eager look. 
 Round the haft her fingers lightly wreathed, , 
 The glittering weapon she unsheathed 
 One well-aimed blow, and she was free ! 
 Another, and the purple tide 
 Gushed from her savage captor's side 
 Who leaped like a wounded stag, and died, 
 
 XXXI. 
 
 Thunder, without a cloud in sight, 
 
 Or whisper of warning on the gale, 
 Could not have roused more wild affright, 
 Amid his braves, than deed of might 
 
 Wrought by a hand so frail ! 
 Ere they recovered from the shock 
 
 Fled On-no-lee like hunted deer ; 
 Glen, stream and interposing rock 
 
 Barred not her swift career : 
 
116 YONNONDIO. 
 
 A vigor never felt before, 
 
 The form of the fugitive upbore, 
 
 And to her active foot gave wing, 
 
 Though fleet were the blood-hounds following. 
 
 XXXII. 
 
 In vain the foremost runner strained, 
 
 And arrows launched from his twanging bow, 
 For On-no-lee, exulting, gained 
 
 A cliff, beyond the reach of foe, 
 That beetled over the lake below. 
 Last of her race, with desperate eye 
 
 On the ruined home of her tribe she gazed ; 
 Waved her avenging arm on high, 
 Taunted her baffled enemy, 
 
 And a ringing scream of triumph raised 
 "Base, worrying curs! go back, go back, 
 
 My scalp is saved from Mengwe smoke ! 
 Go hence, and look for Mic-ki-nac 
 The famished crow, and the raven black 
 
 A dirge above him croak!" 
 Regardless of the whizzing storm 
 Of missiles raining round her form, 
 Imploring eye she then upcast, 
 And a low, mournful death-hymn sang : 
 On hill and forest looked her last, 
 Once glance upon the water cast, 
 
 And from that high rock sprang. 
 
THE BOWER. 117 
 
 XXXIII. 
 
 Away three hundred years have flown 
 
 Since the Munsee found a watery grave; 
 But when old Night is on her throne, 
 And stars troop forth her sway to own, 
 
 Rise warblings from the wave : 
 And a shadowy face of mournful mien, 
 
 With locks all draggled by the surge, 
 Belated wanderers have seen 
 
 From the glittering lake emerge 
 One moment float in moonlight fair, 
 Then mix with the waters, or vanish in air." 
 
 XXXIV. 
 
 Ere Blanche could Wun-nut-hay reward 
 With one approving smile or word, 
 
 A muffled tread upon the sward, 
 
 And sound of parting boughs she heard : 
 
 Upspringing, with a joyous cry, 
 
 She deemed her gallant husband nigh ; 
 
 An instant more, and in her mien 
 
 Fear's paralyzing power was seen ; 
 
 All color vanished from her cheek, 
 
 Her lips were locked, and could not speak ; 
 
 Back was her head in horror thrown 
 
 Her form all motionless like stone : 
 
 Whence came the spell that bound her frame, 
 
118 ^ YONNONDIO. 
 
 And hushed, half-breathed, a loved one's name 1 
 What saw she ] 
 
 Through the flowery wall 
 Of her vine-woven forest hall, 
 A dark, vindictive visage peered, 
 With paint, denoting war, besmeared. 
 Not well could eloquence have framed 
 The language by that look proclaimed : 
 It told of prize, long sought, at last 
 In hard, unyielding clutches fast 
 Of pleasure such as panthers feel, 
 Though longing for a bloody meal, 
 
 When hunted down their prey ; 
 For glared keen eye-balls with a joy 
 That would caress, and then destroy 
 
 Though hunger chid delay. 
 
 XXXV. 
 
 A something, in that hideous face, 
 Could Blanche of one remembered trace ; 
 For the clear outlines, full and bold, 
 Less of the red, than white man told ; 
 And its fixed look of glad surprise, 
 Despite of barbarous disguise, 
 Announced that she was known full well, 
 Plainly as word could syllable. 
 
THE BOWER. 119 
 
 XXXVI. 
 
 As howls the wood-wolf to his pack 
 When some fair doe rewards his search, 
 And the far hills give answer back, 
 Scaring the wild-bird from her perch 
 So did that man of evil eye 
 Out-pour one long, loud signal-cry, 
 To which the groves replied in tone 
 As fierce and startling as his own. 
 Roused was the lady by the sound, 
 And Wun-nut-hay looked wildly round 
 For outlet of escape in vain : 
 Dark forms, in Huron garb bedight, 
 Like serpents glided into sight, 
 
 And bound with thongs the twain. 
 The party, with their scowling chief, 
 Held hurried conference and brief 
 
 In harsh and guttural tone ; 
 Then left the violated bower 
 Like men, in dread of hostile power, 
 
 Who trust to speed alone. 
 
 END OP CANTO FOURTH. 
 

YONNONDIO. 
 
 CANTO FIFTH. 
 
 THE RESCUE. 
 
 Mourn for the lovely cabin-home that smiled 
 On the dim borders of the forest old ! 
 
 Changed to a scene of desolation wild, 
 Its arbor, walls and portico, behold ! 
 
 Though faint the maak of footprints on the mould, 
 Fearless and fleet avenger will pursue 
 
 While shadowy Night comes down on wave and 
 wold : 
 
 For captive made, by fell, marauding crew, 
 Is one more dear than life his partner fond and true ! 
 
 Eastward the spoilers held their way, 
 And when the forest-edge was won, 
 Shone on green leaf and waving spray, 
 
122 YONNONDIO. 
 
 A glare more lurid than the ray 
 
 Of red, descending sun. 
 Poor Blanche threw back one parting gaze, 
 Her cottage-home was in a blaze ; 
 Thick smoke hung round it like a pall, 
 Fire darted out from roof and wall ; 
 Black cinders on her arbor fell, 
 Fierce flames rang out a crackling knell ; 
 Vines, trained above the porch to meet, 
 Were fast consuming in the heat; 
 And clustering rose-trees, taught to shade^ 
 
 The windows by her fingers fair, 
 With wooing winds no longer played 
 In green and crimson robe array'd, 
 By the hot breath of ruin made 
 
 Black, verdureless and bare : 
 And birds that she had lured away 
 From lone, deep haunts in forest gray, 
 To hop unscared around her door 
 
 From that ill-fated dwelling fled, 
 As if they knew the hand that fed 
 
 Could fling them crumbs no more. 
 
 n. 
 
 Soon was the burning wreck from view 
 Veiled by dark, interposing trees ; 
 But well, too well the lady knew 
 By voices on the passing breeze 
 
THE RESCUE. 123 
 
 A sullen crash a muffled din 
 That the loved roof was tumbling in, 
 Burying, in its timeless fall, 
 Full many a sad memorial, 
 And token dear of other hours 
 When fell her fairy foot on flowers. 
 
 in. 
 
 Fiends who had fired that sylvan cot, 
 Letters and books regarded not, 
 But rudely bore alone from thence, 
 Toys that they deemed of consequence : 
 While the prized wardrobe of her child, 
 Whose lonely grave was in the wild 
 Home missives, from the camp in haste, 
 By her old, warlike father traced, 
 Before his heart became a waste ; 
 And, lastly, than all cherished things 
 More precious in her wanderings, 
 The Bible by a mother given 
 When Earth about to quit for Heaven, 
 Dissolved in flame, while wanton gale 
 Scattered abroad their ashes pale. 
 
 IV, 
 
 When captives and marauding band 
 Reached a tall ridge of wooded land 
 That, eastward, walled the pleasant vale, 
 

 124 YONNONDIO. 
 
 Day into glimmering twilight died, 
 And murmurs from the river-side 
 
 Came softened on the gale j 
 And Blanche from that commanding height 
 (Above the tree-tops, far beneath) 
 Saw vapor rise, more black than night, 
 From her lost dwelling's blackened site, 
 
 In many a mournful wreath. 
 
 v. 
 
 Onward their course the party urged, 
 
 Until they reached a babbling brook, 
 Then from the beaten trail diverged, 
 And their way, in shadow merged, 
 
 More slowly southward took : 
 Now on gnarled oak, by hatchet blazed, 
 The keen eye of some savage gazed ; 
 Anon the rearmost warrior paused 
 
 When heard was some unusual sound 
 By distant scream of panther caused, 
 
 Or dry branch falling to the ground. 
 The moon in her pale march was far, 
 And twinkled many a watching star 
 When a deep dell was gained where sped 
 Co-ne-sus o'er his pebbly bed 
 Bright outlet of that pearl of Lakes 
 From which a tuneful name it takes, 
 
THE RESCUE. 125 
 
 Rushing to lose its silvery gleam 
 In the dark River's turbid stream ! 
 
 VI. 
 
 To halt, their leader gave command, 
 And parleyed with his scowling band, 
 As if in doubt to steer his course 
 Down the swift tide, or toward its source ; 
 But an old brave of haughty port, 
 And glittering eye, debate cut short, 
 And pointing to the water, flecked 
 With quivering spots of lunar light, 
 Said in the Huron dialect 
 
 " Wolves will throng forth to night ! 
 Watch-fires are lit their way to teach 
 By upland-swell and river-beach j 
 Their tell-tale runner that we chased, 
 Howls in their den, and we must haste !" 
 On the creek's bottom then he strode, 
 Before his chief, to show the way, 
 Each bearing in his arms a load 
 
 Sad Blanche and Wun-nut-hay 
 While figures gaunt brought up the rear 
 With watchful eye and open ear. 
 
 VII. 
 
 Above, the overhanging banks 
 Were lined by trees in broken ranks, 
 
 L2 
 
126 YONNONDIO. 
 
 And moonlight, falling gently down, 
 
 Set with rich pearls each emerald crown. 
 
 There towered, majestical and old, 
 
 The dark-leaved hemlock from the mould, 
 
 The spruce, unstirr'd by breath of air, 
 
 Shaped like a parasol, was there, 
 
 And the huge pine full proudly bore 
 
 His honors like a regal thing, 
 
 His trunk with mossy velvet hoar, 
 
 Fit ermine for so wild a king. 
 
 VIII. 
 
 A hill once strongly fortified, 
 Down sloping to the water-side, 
 
 Captor and captive hurried by : 
 Stockade and trench still crowned the place, 
 Memorials of a vanished race 
 
 Whose green, old graves were nigh. 
 A clearing of uneven ground 
 Once spread the ruined fortress round, 
 But mid huge stumps, decayed and black, 
 
 Young oaks were springing green and high, 
 And fast the grove was winning back 
 
 Its old supremacy : 
 It was a scene of mingling hues, 
 And not unmeet for BRYANT'S muse, 
 That whispered of the dead and gone, 
 Lovely, though sad to look upon 
 
THE RESCUE. 127 
 
 Telling that in the forest's heart, 
 
 Like his frail brother of the mart, 
 
 Untutored man a structure rears 
 
 To long outlast his wasting form, 
 
 To stand when r'ound his grave the storm 
 
 Hath howled uncounted years. 
 
 IX. 
 
 Pursuing, in its channel wide, 
 The silvery windings of the tide, 
 The party fared a mile or more, 
 Then forward hurried on the shore. 
 " If foemen follow, they will find 
 A watery trail both cold and blind, 
 Though keen as vultures on the scent !" 
 Muttered the leader to his crew, 
 
 And his breath more freely drew, 
 Like one relieved from sense of fear, 
 Deeming black danger, lately near, 
 
 No longer imminent. 
 "Where had that voice the lady heard 1 
 A tumult in her heart was stirr'd, 
 
 Recalling scenes beyond the main ; 
 Though harsh the tone as raven's croak, 
 An echo of the past it woke 
 
 In her distracted brain. 
 
. 
 
 128 YONNONDIO. 
 
 X. 
 
 Long ere the mid hour of the night, 
 Crossed the dark robbers in their flight 
 The grassy carpet of a glade, 
 From which, through bowers of glossy green, 
 Bright glimpses of the Lake were seen 
 
 On which wan moonlight played. 
 Plunging in thickets, soon they hied 
 Without one friendly star to guide, 
 So dark the cover overhead 
 Of long-armed butternut, inweaved 
 With oak and chestnut thickly-leaved, 
 
 And evergreen outspread. 
 Eastward the lake of silver breast, 
 Beneath a cloudless sky at rest, 
 
 A gun-shot from their wood-path lay ; 
 But, on its beach of whitened sand, 
 Dreaded a march that crafty band 
 
 Lest footprint might betray. 
 
 XI. 
 
 Emerged, at last, each cautious brave 
 From sylvan labirynth of gloom, 
 
 And low winds, freshened by the wave, 
 Stirred blanket-fold and eagle-plume : 
 
 Again the moonshine brightly fell 
 
THE RESCUE. 129 
 
 On rounded brooch and bead of shell, 
 On spoiler and his pinioned prey, 
 From friends, a weary march, away. 
 
 XII. 
 
 Descending from the higher ground, 
 Through matted underwood they wound, 
 And on a tongue of land arrived, 
 
 Outstretching far into the mere, 
 An emerald set in crystal clear, 
 Dotted with oaks whose upright forms 
 Stern warfare with the wrestling storms 
 
 Of ages had survived. 
 A clump, more ancient than the others 
 A group of iron-hearted brothers, 
 Towered with their trunks of rugged shape 
 Near the curved margin of the cape : 
 And underneath their branches gray, 
 To halt until the dawn of day, 
 
 Encamped that predatory horde : 
 Short was their meal their only cheer, 
 Parched maize, and smoke-dried flesh of deer 
 
 Mossed earth their banquet-board. 
 With flint and steel though well supplied, 
 Red camp-fire they enkindled not, 
 Through fear some treach'rous brand might guide 
 
 Fierce, wandering Maquas to the spot. 
 
130 
 
 YONNONDIO. 
 
 Thirsting for blood, and armed to slay, 
 While, bound in slumber's thrall, they lay. 
 
 XIII. 
 
 When broken was their lengthened fast, 
 The pipe around the circle passed ; 
 Then, wearied by a march of toil, 
 
 And glad their toughened limbs to rest, 
 All couched them down upon the soil, 
 
 As if it was their mother's breast, 
 Save watchman gaunt who vigil kept 
 While others in their blankets slept, 
 And two, upon a fallen tree, 
 Seated in earnest colloquy : 
 One that dark man of evil mien 
 Who first spied Blanche in arbor green, 
 And Huron who, through forest dim, 
 In swift retreat had guided him. 
 
 XIT. 
 
 " My brother now his eye may close, 
 Safe from assault of roving foes ; 
 Brown, burrowing moles have keener sight, 
 And water leaves no trace of flight" 
 Growled the old chief " Enough for them 
 Like leaves to die on girdled stem ; 
 For them enough in their despair 
 To strike the painted battle-post, 
 

 THE RESCUE. 131 
 
 While rush, to smoke them in their lair, 
 
 Great Yonnondio and his host ! 
 Through brambly wold and swampy ground 
 
 It ill becomes a brave to dodge, 
 Like hunted fox before the hound, 
 
 To place yon White-Rose in thy lodge, 
 Winning himself, a stripling's prize, 
 Her sister-flower of darker dyes ! 
 What will my taunting tribesmen say 
 If I am absent from the fray, 
 Counting, in scorn before my face, 
 The scalp-locks of a vanquished race ? 
 On this gray head will rest disgrace 
 Hushed will my voice in council be, 
 Clouded my name eternally ; 
 Speak, brother, speak !" 
 
 "A Huron thou!" 
 (Exclaimed his comrade in reply, 
 While gathered gloom upon his brow,) 
 " And ask acquittal from a vow 
 Pledged to another solemnly'? 
 In other mould I deemed thee cast 
 One proving faithful to the last ; 
 Thy brother, to his promise true, 
 Thee and thy warriors will requite 
 With blankets of a gaudy hue, 
 And ornaments of silver bright, 
 Richer than mighty Sagamore 
 
132 YONNONDIO. 
 
 In hall of council ever wore 
 
 If guarded on his dangerous trail : 
 
 Ere rise and set four fleeting suns, 
 
 Our camping ground will be the vale 
 
 Through which the Wy-a-lu-sing runs ; 
 
 There waits the friendly Nanticoke 
 
 His calumet with us to smoke, 
 
 And mats provide of texture fine 
 
 On which our tired limbs may recline." 
 
 xv. 
 
 *" ^ 
 
 " Hah ! doubting still what course to take, 
 
 Thy word redeem, or compact break ] 
 
 For answering with stab and yell 
 
 The challenge of the sentinel 
 
 Who from foul shame an Indian spared, 
 
 Mad with deep draughts of liquid fire, 
 
 When whip was raised, and back was bared, 
 
 By calming Yonnondio's ire ? 
 
 Who bears the name that Frenchmen bore 
 
 Rememberest thou ?" " No more, no more ! 
 
 When dusky night is at an end 
 
 The Black Fox journeys with his friend !" 
 
 Then, on the ground with green-sward floored, 
 
 Their ancient amity restored, 
 
 Stretched their tired limbs, that miscreant pair, 
 
 'Till day-break gleamed to slumber there. 
 
THE RESCUE. 133 
 
 XVI. 
 
 Apart a temporary tent 
 
 Of poles, crotched stakes and branches bent, 
 
 Loosely with strips of bark o'er-laid, 
 
 For the tired captives had been made ; 
 
 And a grim savage, keeping guard, 
 
 Its low and narrow entrance barred, 
 
 Droning, to keep himself awake, 
 
 Rude fragments of some forest tune, 
 
 Or looking forth upon the Lake 
 
 When shrieked the solitary loon 
 
 Amid tall flags and clustering reeds 
 
 A warning that the Indian heeds 
 
 Taught truly by tradition old 
 
 That storm was in that cry foretold. 
 
 XVII. 
 
 The wind-swept waters on the shore 
 Broke with a low, dull, muttering roar 
 Reflecting back a lurid glare 
 "When lightning lanced the darkened air. 
 The moon was muffled in a cloud, 
 Its leafy top the forest bowed, 
 And, far within its solemn bounds, 
 Woke dismal moans and creaking sounds. 
 
 M 
 
134 YONNONDIO, 
 
 XVIII. 
 
 What shielded Blanche, through trial sore, 
 And hardships never known before, 
 From perishing like lily frail 
 When outraged by the tyrant-gale *? 
 Reared in a palace o'er the sea, 
 And daughter of a noble race, 
 Slight as the blue anemone 
 Was her light form of Phidian grace ; 
 And yet, dark ills that well might test 
 The temper of the sternest breast, 
 To danger used to toil inured, 
 This high-born woman had endured. 
 Who was that man of evil eye 
 Whose voice roused buried memory 1 
 Whence came he with that felon-tread ? 
 Can shrouded corse forsake its bed 1 
 Where was her home her husband, where 
 Such questions must have nursed despair. 
 
 XIX. 
 
 Oh ! what a medicine for one, 
 
 Whose heart, though rudely torn, aches on, 
 
 Is dull, oblivious repose 
 
 A brief unconsciousness of woes ; 
 
 The dreary luxury of forgetting 
 
 That perils are our path besetting : 
 
THE RESCUE. 135 
 
 And Blanche in sleep forgot awhile 
 Dark foe with heart of guilt and guile ; 
 Her forest-home made desolate, 
 Her infant's grave, and absent mate 
 Who came not when she shrieked for aid, 
 When ruffian-hand was on her laid : 
 Rude was the couch on which she lay, 
 Of gathered moss and leaves composed, 
 And by her side was Wun-nut-hay 
 With brain at work, and eye unclosed. 
 
 Accustomed, when a little child, 
 To wander with her roving race, 
 Through the dim alleys of the wild, 
 From stream to stream, and place to place ; 
 And, by her forest training, taught 
 Tasks to perform with peril fraught ; 
 The reptile in her path to slay ; 
 By precipice to track her way ; 
 The rushing hurricane to shun 
 When its black banner veiled the sun ; 
 With steady hand her skiff .to steer, 
 Though the dark whirlpool eddied near ; 
 Or with a firm, unwavering stride 
 On slippery pole to cross the tide, 
 Still did that Indian maid possess 
 A power that conquered weariness. 
 
136 YONNONDIO. 
 
 XXI. 
 
 Lone musing on her captive state 
 
 Roused old, hereditary hate. 
 
 Her mind, with thoughts of freedom, teemed ; 
 
 By her, revenge was virtue deemed : 
 
 Though woman all, the blood of chiefs 
 
 Timed the proud throbbings of her heart, 
 
 And grief, beyond all other griefs, 
 
 From her own tribe it was to part, 
 
 And hear no more On-yit-ha's voice 
 
 Salute the maiden of his choice. 
 
 All swollen were her pinioned hands ; 
 
 Whose work was this who twined these bands * 
 
 And shall the daughter of the brave 
 
 Live in the Huron's lodge, a slave 1 
 
 Her fettered hands she tried to free ; 
 
 Why from the task desisted she 1 ? 
 
 XXII. 
 
 Love for the being by her side 
 Reclining like some faded flower, 
 On which the dew of even-tide 
 Exerted no reviving power. 
 And would she leave her pale-browed friend, 
 Too weak and travel-worn to fly, 
 Beneath misfortune's load to bend, 
 And quaff the cup of misery ? 
 
THE RESCUE. 137 
 
 Again she mused : a happy thought 
 Relieved her spirit over-wrought, 
 Lighting the chambers of her brain 
 Perchance On-yit-ha and De Grai, 
 To rescue them, were on the way, 
 
 With warriors in their train ; 
 But clouds were curtaining the moon 
 Dark, dark would be their pathway soon, 
 And guiding runner they would need 
 Through glen and copse the band to lead. 
 
 XXIII. 
 
 The Huron, charged night-watch to keep, 
 Betrayed by breathing, long and deep, 
 That his keen eye was sealed in sleep. 
 Again, to disengage her hands, 
 Essayed she from encircling bands; 
 And, after many a desperate strain, 
 Parted the leathern cord in twain. 
 Then, to unloose her feet, she tried 
 In vain ! they were too firmly tied : 
 Numbed was her deeply -furrowed wrist, 
 Her skill the knot could not untwist ; 
 She only tightened more the thong, 
 More painful made its pressure strong. 
 And must that young, heroic maid 
 Thus baffled in high purpose be ? 
 M2 
 
138 YONNONDIO. 
 
 The slumbering Huron wears a Blade, 
 And in its edge is liberty. 
 
 XXIV. 
 
 While crept she by approaches slow, 
 
 With noiseless caution, towards her foe, 
 
 No other light revealed his form 
 
 Than flashings of the coming storm, 
 
 And gleams of moonlight struggling through 
 
 Vapor, and clouds of ebon hue. 
 
 Softly her moving fingers felt 
 
 For sheath, depending from his belt, 
 
 And lightly, by her clasping hand, 
 
 The weapon's buckhorn-haft was spann'd ; 
 
 Then forth its bladed steel she drew 
 
 One stroke ! the tether fell in two ; 
 
 But, whispering in the Huron's ear, 
 
 Some demon must have hovered near ; 
 
 For, ere her feet the maiden gained, 
 
 An iron grasp her steps detained. 
 
 XXV. 
 
 An instant flashed the knife on high, 
 In the red lightning darting by ; 
 The next, within the sentry's breast, 
 A sheath, from point to hilt, it found 
 Heaved, with convulsive throe, his chest, 
 While crimson spouted from the wound : 
 
THE RESCUE. 139 
 
 His powerless hand relaxed its hold, 
 
 Thrilled to his heart a shudder cold ; 
 
 Frothy his quivering lips became ; 
 
 To earth sank heavily his frame ; 
 
 A filmy veil his eye closed o'er 
 
 One groan ! the strong man was no more, 
 
 XXVI, 
 
 Griping the bloody weapon fast, 
 
 Alive to every wandering sound, 
 
 A hurried glance the maiden cast 
 
 The shadowy encampment round. 
 
 Witless, dreamed on the robber-band, 
 
 Of brother slain by woman's hand ; 
 
 No warrior in his blanket stirr'd 
 
 Weaves, wrangling with the rocks, she heard ; 
 
 And sang the blast, old oaks amid, 
 
 Mournful at times, and wild by starts, 
 
 As if unhappy fiends lay hid 
 
 Within their knotty hearts : 
 Streaming in agitated air, 
 W^aved, in loose flakes, her unbound hair, 
 While lambent and electric light 
 By fits revealed the Lake to sight, 
 Giving the surge a fiery crest, 
 And chasing darkness from its breast. 
 
140 YONNONDIO. 
 
 XXVII. 
 
 Treading upon the grassy sod, 
 As if her foot with moss was shod, 
 Fled, on her errand, Wun-nut-hay ; 
 Nor paused to list, or look behind, 
 While groves of outline undefined 
 
 Before her darkly lay: 
 Boldly she plunged their depths within, 
 Though thorns pierced through her moccasin, 
 And the black clouds, unsealed at last, 
 Discharged their contents, thick and fast, 
 Drenching her locks and vesture slight, 
 And blinding with large drops her sight. 
 
 XXVIII. 
 
 The grisly wolf was on the tramp 
 
 To gain the cover of his lair ; 
 Fierce eyes glared on her from the swamp, 
 
 As if they asked her errand there. 
 The feathered hermit of the dell 
 Flew hooting to his oaken cell, 
 And grape-vines, tied in leafy coil 
 To gray-armed giants of the soil, 
 Swung like a vessel's loosened shrouds 
 Drifting beneath a bank of clouds. 
 From the pine's huge and quaking cone, 
 Came sobbing and unearthly tone, 
 
THE RESCUE. 141 
 
 While trunks decayed, of measure vast, 
 Fought for the last time with the blast, 
 And near her fell with crashing roar 
 That shook the cumbered forest-floor : 
 
 XXIX. 
 
 But hurried on the forest-child, 
 Though night and tempest in the wild 
 Engendered sights and sounds of fear ; 
 And not one star of friendly ray 
 Her dismal and her dangerous way 
 
 Looked softly forth to cheer. 
 Passing through brake and watery fen, 9 
 Unharmed she reached the woody glen, 
 Through which the swift Conesus winds, 
 And the blue lake an outlet finds. 
 
 XXX. 
 
 Weary with flight, her agile form 
 Against a hemlock-stem she leaned, 
 
 From the rude buffet of the storm 
 By overhanging foliage screened : 
 
 She tarried there till ceased the rain, 
 
 Till moonshine silvered Night again, 
 
 And the hoarse clarion of the gale 
 
 Changed its high note to dying wail ; 
 
 Then, freshened by a little rest, 
 
 Adventuring forth upon her quest, 
 
142 YONNONDIO. 
 
 Along the creek's green marge she sped ; 
 And water-drops the grove shook down, 
 When air-gusts waved the branches brown, 
 
 On her unsheltered head. 
 A wary glance around she threw 
 When loomed the ruined Fort to view j 
 Taught, by the legends of her race, 
 That haunted was the quiet place 
 By vapory phantoms of the dead, 
 Earth echoless beneath their tread, 
 Stalking, with fixed and freezing gaze, 
 'Mid mouldering wrecks of other days. 
 
 
 XXXI. 
 
 When nigh the scene where, full of wile, 
 The Huron band held parle awhile, 
 And their trail enj^ed in the tide, 
 A sound, like mimicked bleat of deer, 
 Came wafted to her practiced ear 
 
 From the glen's northern side. 
 The valley, from its depths of shade, 
 Prompt answer to the signal made : 
 Brush cracked beneath the tread of feet ; 
 And a dark group of belted men, 
 Led by a chieftain tall and fleet, 
 
 Gathered within the glen. 
 
THE RESCUE. 143 
 
 XXXII. 
 
 There was an open glade of green 
 The northern bank and wave between, 
 And, in its moonlit centre, stood 
 These martial rangers of the wood, 
 Impatient, while compelPd to halt, 
 Like hounds, in chase of game, at fault : 
 One form the maiden would have known 
 Disguised in raiment not his own ; 
 But the long plume of raven hue, 
 And wampum-sash, full well she knew. 
 
 XXXIII. 
 
 Emerging from the thicket dim, 
 New vigor braced her failing limb, 
 And scarce her foot the herbage brushed, 
 While to On-yit-ha's arms she rushed. 
 Her sudden presence wonder woke, 
 And from the band an outcry broke 
 Half doubting evidence of sight; 
 Deeming that phantom of the night 
 Alone would be abroad, to scour 
 So wild a dell, at such an hour : 
 But who is he, of manly frame, 
 W^n visage, and dishevel'd hair, 
 Whose trembling, whitened lips exclaim. 
 
144 YONNONDIO. 
 
 " Where is my Blanche ? oh ! tell me, where ?" 
 
 One who would fain throw life away, 
 
 The houseless, wretched, wronged De Grai ; 
 
 But hope on his bruised heart shed rays 
 
 Like moonlight glimmering through the haze ; 
 
 And his cheek lost its ghastly shade, 
 
 When told her tale that Indian-maid ; 
 
 Recounting, with a graphic power, 
 
 The capture in his lady's bower, 
 
 Sad conflagration of the cot, 
 
 War paint, and costume of the foe 
 
 Their swift departure from the spot, 
 
 Dreading the twang of hostile bow. 
 
 XXXIV. 
 
 She well portrayed the course they took 
 Through dark morass, up channelled brook, 
 Until they reached their camping-ground 
 Lone lake in front the Woods around: 
 Their caution in not kindling fires, 
 Fearful they might prove funeral-pyres ; 
 Then drawing forth, yet red with strife, 
 From underneath her robe, a knife, 
 Narrated she, in modest phrase, 
 The daring nature of the deed 
 By which her prisoned limbs she freed 
 The waking sentry's iron grasp, 
 His instant fall, and dying gasp, 
 While stern lips murmured praise. 
 
THE RESCUE. 145 
 
 XXXV. 
 
 " On ! we will end the bloody task 
 
 A woman hath so well begun ; 
 Nor shall this brood of adders bask 
 
 Unharmed beneath to-morrow's sun : 
 The Night Hawk will not fold his wings 
 Until he robs them of their stings, 
 And the pale chief, from o'er the main, 
 Looks on his stolen one again, 
 And listens, while she fills his ear 
 With music that he loves to hear." 
 By hand on weapon fiercely laid, 
 And frowning brow, and flashing eye, 
 Each warrior to his leader made 
 A meaning, though a mute reply* 
 Bounding with long and measured lope. 
 Under the green woods' leafy cope, 
 On-yit-ha urged his warriors on : 
 De Grai moved swiftly by his side, 
 And near was Wun-nut-hay, their guide, 
 
 Tripping like startled fawn. 
 
 XXXVI. 
 
 How sweetly fell the wan moonlight 
 Upon the Huron camp that night, 
 When the wild storm, its fury spent, 
 Undarkened left the firmament ! 
 
 
146 YONNONDIO. 
 
 How pleasantly the moonbeam shone 
 When died away the thunder-groan, 
 And waves, in wrath that lately heaved, 
 A glory from its light received ; 
 While forest on the shore, and hill, 
 Were imaged in the water still, 
 And vine and flower, that grew about, 
 Gemmed by the rain, gave fragrance out ! 
 
 XXXVII. 
 
 Made restless by his dampened bed, 
 A waking warrior raised his head ; 
 Then, rising slowly to his feet, 
 Looked on the Lake's unruffled sheet ; 
 Bright dimple on earth's chequered face, 
 A radiant ^pearl in emerald vase, 
 And mirror meet for Naiad fair 
 To look on when she plaits her hair ! 
 It lay a type of holy rest, 
 And primal freshness wrapped its breast ; 
 Its surface, smooth as polished steel, 
 Ploughed never by the wandering keel, 
 Wind, water-fowl and falling shower 
 Its playmates since creation's hour. 
 
 XXXVIII. 
 
 a 
 
 So picturesque, so calm a view, 
 Beneath June-skies of cloudless blue, 
 
THE RESCUE. 147 
 
 By tranquil charm might well have curbed 
 The tumult of a soul disturbed ; 
 And yet that lonely warrior stood, 
 With folded arms, in murky mood. 
 Nervous at times, and scared he seemed 
 As if of evil he had dreamed ; 
 In sleep some drear fore-warning heard, 
 Dark curse, or death-denouncing word ; 
 And ill his eye of savage glare 
 Comported with a scene so fair. 
 
 XXXIX. 
 
 He muttered low : " what leaden weight 
 
 Rests heavy on my heart of late 1 
 
 Have I not reason to rejoice 
 
 In spite of that strange, mocking voice 
 
 That whispered in mine ear of doom, 
 
 Winged death-shot, and dishonored tomb 1 
 
 Though black cloud lower, or day-beam shine, 
 
 The guerdon of revenge is mine ; 
 
 I loved her, aye ! adored her long, 
 
 Her name the burden of my song : 
 
 Though scornful the return I met, 
 
 Some old affection lingers yet, 
 
 A faded flower in desert sand, 
 
 Once a green isle of Fairy-Land. 
 
 Her frown chased sunshine from my day, 
 
 A rival bore the prize away ; 
 
148 YONNONDIO. 
 
 She spurned me with forbidding brow; 
 That proud one is my captive now !" 
 
 XL. 
 
 He mused awhile, and thus resumed ; 
 
 " Ha ! warned again that I am doomed, 
 
 That guilt hath fearful recompense 1 
 
 Off, juggling fiend ! false demon, hence 1 
 
 Though life be nearing fast the goal, 
 
 Vengeance shall first appease my soul. 
 
 Her beauty fires my brain no more, 
 
 Albeit 'twas otherwise of yore. 
 
 Up, from my heart's most secret cells, 
 
 A fount of bitter water wells ; 
 
 Hope light it not, with moonlight beam, 
 
 As naptha burns upon the stream ; 
 
 Its black and troubled current knows 
 
 No quiet ebb, but ever flows ; 
 
 In me the future wakes no fear 
 
 A Hell of pain I suffer here, 
 
 And, when my vengeance is complete, 
 
 I pray this pulse may cease to beat ! 
 
 XLI. 
 
 " Her sire, the Baron gray and old, 
 Will never more his child behold ; 
 And yet he was my patron erst, 
 Taught me the game of battle first, 
 
THE RESCUE. 149 
 
 For better trump and pawing barb, 
 
 Than crucifix and yriestly garb ! 
 
 He led me from a hovel dim, 
 
 The wine of joy to quaff with him ; 
 
 But ever, in his lordly hall, 
 
 Between us interposed a wall : 
 
 We never met on equal terms, 
 
 Though both were perishable worms ; 
 
 Bells rang gay peal when lie was born 
 
 In rags I first beheld the morn ; 
 
 Of down his cradle-couch was made 
 
 On straw my infant limbs were laid j 
 
 &ut I was proud nor could I brook, 
 
 At times, his frigid, stately look 
 
 That seemed to say ' forget not, boy, 
 
 The past in your intemperate joy !' 
 
 Fool ! did he deem me tutored hound 
 
 Who yields the quarry up, when found ] 
 
 A jackal who the lion guides 
 
 Where the sleek antelope abides, 
 
 Enjoying not the fruits of toil, 
 
 While power appropriates the spoil 1 
 
 From swooping hawk may tear away 
 
 The partridge, and its haunt regain ; 
 Fast hold have eagles on their prey 
 
 Their talons never clutch in vain." 
 
 N2 
 
150 YONNONDJO, 
 
 XLH. 
 
 The moon went down : while others slept, 
 That wretched man his station kept ; 
 Eastward his blood-shot eye he turned, 
 And sign of coming day discerned 
 Faint purple streaked night's azure arch ; 
 " Up, and away upon our march 
 We must be, ere the sun," he said, 
 " Or danger in our rear may tread !" 
 
 XLIII. 
 
 Low sounds crept on the dusky air, 
 
 Nor tread of wolf nor tramp of bear ; 
 
 There was a rustling 'mid the trees, 
 
 And yet there was no wandering breeze, 
 
 Noise as of leaf, or mouldering root 
 
 Yielding beneath a cautious foot. 
 
 Roused from his revery, he strove 
 
 To pierce the shadows of the grove ; 
 
 Once more a half-hushed trampling came, 
 
 A boding tremor shook his frame ; 
 
 " Am I deceived, or scan aright 1 ? 
 
 Dim figures meet my line of sight 
 
 Stand ! who goes there ?" he sharply cried 
 
 A carbine flashed a yell replied ! 
 
 Well done, bold cavalier of France, 
 
 Deadly thine aim, and keen thy glance ! 
 
 
THE RESCUE. 151 
 
 The wrongs of Blanche, in captive bands, 
 
 Claimed stern requital at thy hands ; 
 
 True was that bullet's airy track 
 
 The wounded warrior staggered back ; 
 
 To shout defiance he essayed, 
 
 But hoarse and hollow murmur made. 
 
 A voice, once heard where sabres crossed, 
 
 Its full, clear thunder-tone had lost ; 
 
 Numbed was an arm whose might alone, 
 
 Through serried ranks, red swath had mown, 
 
 While knightly forms shrank back dismayed 
 
 By flashes of his fatal blade. 
 
 XLIV. 
 
 From leafy couch his Hurons sprang, 
 As if each felt an adder's fang 
 Their weapons grasped in disarray, 
 
 While bounding from their cover rushed 
 Avengers, panting for the fray, 
 Like some mad whirlwind on its way 
 
 When oak is rent and rock is crushed. 
 
 XLV. 
 
 Fighting the battle of despair, 
 
 His tomahawk the Black Fox swung ; 
 
 And, quavering on the troubled air, 
 The war-whoop of On-yit-ha rung. 
 
 Savage the conflict was, though brief : 
 
152 YONNONDIO. 
 
 Covered with gore, the Huron Chief 
 Fought, with his back against an oak, 
 While hand could deal the hatchet-stroke. 
 "Well did that hoary brave maintain 
 
 Renown achieved in many a fight- 
 His fall, encircled by the slain, 
 To his thinned band was sign of flight. 
 
 XLVI. 
 
 They scattered, in bewildering fear, 
 
 As flee a broken herd of deer : 
 
 Foes that knew not the word ' forgive? 
 
 Followed each panting fugitive. 
 
 The narrow cape debarred retreat; 
 
 Some, near the shore, to earth were beat ; 
 
 Others swam out into the lake, 
 
 But Indian cunning marked their wake ; 
 
 Like otters plunged they down in vain ; 
 
 The bubbling surface caught a stain, 
 
 Unerring witness to the skill 
 
 Of marksmen trained such game to kill. 
 
 XLVII. 
 
 Through golden portals looked the SUN 
 On fragments of a battle won ; 
 Hushed was the frightful noise of route, 
 Wild death-scream, and triumphant shout : 
 Quiet and calm the forest lord 
 
THE RESCUE. 153 
 
 I 
 
 Lay on the dark, discolored sward, 
 Or rested in wet, reedy grave, 
 
 Frighting far off the screaming gull, 
 The gallant scalp-lock of the brave 
 
 Torn from each grim, denuded skull : 
 The blue-lipped wave stole up the beach, 
 Its red, polluted sand to bleach ; 
 Breathing a low and whispered moan, 
 A sad, mysterious undertone, 
 As if it bore a heart, and sighed 
 For those who in that strife had died. 
 
 XL VIII. 
 
 Thrice happy, re-united pair ! 
 
 Why paint the locked embrace of love ? 
 Enough that, from entangling snare, 
 
 Flew to her mate a sinless dove ; 
 While, by his own black net-work bound, 
 The wily fowler bit the ground. 
 
 END OF CANTO FIFTH. 
 

YONNONDIO. 
 
 CANTO SIXTH. 
 
 THE BATTLE. 
 
 Fair was the dawn of that eventful day, 
 
 By conflict ever memorable made, 
 Between trained troops, who owned the Bourbon's 
 sway, 
 
 And Nature's dauntless children of the shade 
 Near Avon's pleasant site : yon River strayed 
 Through a green, quiet landscape, and the light, 
 
 New-born and blushing, on the water played : 
 Nought token gave that scene so hushed and bright 
 Would soon ring far and wide, with the wild roar 
 of fight. 
 
 Alas ! man's heart, like the sequestered vale, 
 Peaceful at morn, that rahg ere noon with yell, 
 
 Loud gun-shot, charging cheer and dying wail, 
 Is often thrilling to its inmost cell 
 
 With happiness one hour before the bell 
 
 Of black misfortune tolls ; while Hope in tears 
 
156 YONNONDIO. 
 
 Breathes, on the troubled air, her sad farewell, 
 And hollow Friendship closely stops his ears 
 To sorrow's moan, and Hate his viper-crest uprears, 
 
 Hemmed in by trees of Titan height, 
 
 In waveless rest, Autaugua lay, 
 While wavering gleams of rosy light 
 
 Announced the birth of day : 
 Dawn flushed the mist that overspread 
 The waters in their reedy bed, 
 Graving each cloud-fold, thin and gray, 
 A radiant wing to flee away. 
 Along the low and marshy edge, 
 His neck outstretched above the sedge, 
 Wandered the shy and lonely crane, 
 Lord of a sombre, wet domain : 
 From muddy den, with flag-leaf lined, 
 The musk-rat stole, repast to find ; 
 Wild pigeons, early on the wing, 
 Woke overhead low thundering 
 Blue, rearward columns mounting high, 
 Scared by the gray hawk's greedy cry. 
 
 n. 
 
 Ruins of former forests round 
 Were heaped in spongy, mouldering piles 
 
THE BATTLE. 157 
 
 On which the snake his coil unwound, 
 Or charmed the bird by fatal wiles : 
 
 Flapping of water-fowl, the plunge 
 
 Of leaping bass and mascalunge ; 
 
 The blue kingfisher's eager scream, 
 
 Watching the wake of perch, or bream ; 
 
 White swan, with oary feet afloat, 
 
 Raising a full, clear trumpet-note, 
 
 Were sounds in keeping with a view 
 
 As yet unchanged by axe and fire, 
 
 That wore, when earth was fresh and new, 
 The same dark, picturesque attire. 
 
 in. 
 
 Away, an arrow's flight, the Pond, 
 Like subject dutiful and fond, 
 The deep and rushing River gave 
 A turbid, tributary wave. 
 Beyond the belt of wood that threw 
 On its dull sheet a darker hue, 
 Broad, level fields of tasseled corn 
 Lay lovely in the light of morn ; 
 But horse and foot were on the march, 
 Beneath the greenwood's leafy arch, 
 To rudely break, in bannered pride, 
 The quiet of that prospect wide. 
 
158 YONNONDIO. 
 
 IT. 
 
 Gaunt red men, in light hunting shirts, 
 
 Stained like the grass and leaves around them, 
 Crouched in the brambly forest-skirts, 
 
 As if a spell of witchcraft bound them. 
 The pheasant scratched, where sunshine warmed 
 A patch of forest earth, unharmed ; 
 The marmot, near his burrow deep, 
 Played on the sward with clumsy leap ; 
 Ungalled, by shaft from toughened bow, 
 Coursed on their runway buck and doe ; 
 And, by Autaugua's reedy shores, 
 
 A brotherhood of beavers wise 
 Protruded, from their hovel-doors, 
 
 Brown furry heads with staring eyes. 
 
 y. 
 
 For other game those hunters true 
 
 Withheld the shot and loud halloo ! 
 
 Abiding patiently the hour 
 
 When each might prove his skill and power ; 
 
 While keeping watch for nobler prey, 
 
 All dumb and motionless were they, 
 
 Like figures carved from granite gray. 
 
 Time, when an Indian warrior lies 
 
 In ambush, unregarded flies : 
 
 Though morning lark and whipporwil 
 
THE BATTLE. 159 
 
 Find him a voiceless watcher still, 
 Unwearied, in their sockets, roll 
 
 His black and ever-open orbs, 
 While the deep vortex of his soul 
 
 Alone one vengeful thought absorbs. 
 Though thirst oppress, and hunger gnaw, 
 
 Wo to the brave who quits his post ! 
 The rigid doom of forest law 
 Degrades him with the name of squaw, 
 
 And Heaven rejects his ghost. 
 
 VI. 
 
 While under cover, thick and green, 
 Those hidden spies kept look-out keen, 
 Their foemen, with extended flank, 
 Were marching on the river-bank. 
 The morning star had seen them rise, 
 By bugle warned, their tents to strike, 
 And form, alert for high emprise, 
 With arquebuse and bristling pike : 
 Their trained battalions, ere the rays 
 Of rising sun dispelled the haze 
 That wrapped the woodland, leaf and limb, 
 In winding sheet obscure and dim, 
 
 Forded the rapid Hon-e-oye : 
 Dark allies hovered in advance 
 To guard the regulars of France 
 
 From Seneca decoy. 
 
160 YONNONDIO. 
 
 There his swart tribe the Saukie led, 
 Proud of the hawk-plumes on his head ; 
 There stalked the Huron armed to slay, 
 
 And cross upon his bosom bore, 
 Taught by the Jesuit to pray 
 
 With hand imbrued in human gore ; 
 There was the Adumdack seen, 
 Like his own hills of iron mien ; 
 Half-naked, fierce and wampum-decked, 
 By marshal discipline unchecked, 
 The fleet Ottawa glided there, 
 Drest in the spoils of wolf and bear. 
 
 VII. 
 
 It must have been a gallant show, 
 When sunlight reached the valley low, 
 Made by those well-appointed troops : 
 Their glancing arms, half seen, half hid, 
 While moving, at quick time, amid 
 
 Tall trees in columned groups. 
 Borne in that host were banners old 
 By veterans "all seamed with scars," 
 With conquest written on each fold, 
 
 And marked by shot of former wars : 
 Whose wings at Steenkirk, on the blast, 
 Had flapped when blood ran warm and fast ; 
 Banners which haughtily had streamed 
 When Luxemburg in armor gleamed, 
 
THE BATTLE. 161 
 
 Leading, with trenchant sabre drawn, 
 The whirlwind of the battle on. 
 
 VIII. 
 
 Of proven valor was the chief, 
 
 And worthy of the laurel leaf, 
 
 Who led that chivalrous array ; 
 
 His steed, adorned with harness bright, 
 
 He managed like a youthful knight, 
 
 Although his head was gray. 
 Behind him pranced a mounted guard 
 Of men at arms, with visors barred 
 Beneath him, in command alone, 
 Rode a tall warrior by his side ; 
 And much of trouble had he known, 
 Unless soured look, and cheerless tone, 
 
 The heart within belied. 
 A few stray locks of glistening snow 
 
 Fell his bruised morion below, 
 But wintry age had left untamed 
 An eye, at times, that fiercely flamed ; 
 And though his leader on parade 
 Would nobler chevalier have made, 
 
 Still his broad chest and martial front, 
 
 Bronzed o'er by toil, and weather-stain, 
 
 Told plainly that it was his wont 
 
 To bide the roaring onset's brunt 
 
 Upon the battle-plain. 
 o2 
 
162 YONNONDIO. 
 
 XI. 
 
 " Twice, Baron, lias the tedious night 
 
 Been reddened by our watch-fires bright ; 
 
 Twice has the morning sunbeam found 
 
 Our force afoot on hostile ground, 
 
 And nothing in the shape of foe 
 
 Has brandished axe, or bended bow" 
 
 Murmured De Nonville, in disdain, 
 
 Stroking his courser's flowing mane. 
 
 " The rich, green forests of a land, 
 
 So beautiful on every hand, 
 
 Diversified by upland-swell, 
 
 Bright leaping rill, and flowery dell ; 
 
 Another race, methought, possessed 
 
 Than these dark Senecas, misnamed 
 
 The tawny Romans of the west!" 
 
 The stern, old warrior exclaimed. 
 
 x. 
 
 11 Curse that false Jesuit" rejoined 
 The fiery Marquis " who has coined 
 A lying tale for knightly ears 
 
 Of On-gui-hon-wi pride and power ! 
 Their hunting-grounds a Frank might scour, 
 And find no foe in wood or bower, 
 Though marked was every leaf and flower 
 
THE BATTLE. 163 
 
 With one good plump of spears." 
 " I marvel what detains De Lisle, 
 That man half-soldier, and half-priest ! 
 He comes not, and the sun, meanwhile, 
 
 Looks from his watch-tower in the east. 
 My orders were, ere break of day, 
 That back he should retrace his way, 
 And at head-quarters make report 
 Of trail the most direct, whereby 
 Our vanguard might surprise a Fort 
 
 The Big-Bend of yon river nigh. 
 
 XI. 
 
 "Attended, or alone to scout 
 Forth went he in our line of route 1" 
 " Through fear of ambuscade at hand, 
 With him he took, by my command, 
 The crafty Black Fox and his band" 
 Answered the Baron, while a cloud 
 Darkened the brow it overspread 
 In furrows by affliction ploughed, 
 And with a stifled groan he bowed, 
 
 In agonizing thought, his head. 
 Ah ! wildly were his heart-strings torn ! 
 Hope had he cherished on that morn 
 To look upon the lost restored 
 His fair-haired Blanche, the long-deplored ! 
 Last scion of an honored race, 
 
164 YONNONDIO. 
 
 And once more in her features trace 
 A transcript of that mother's face 
 Who died in giving 1 birth to her, 
 Whose dwelling was the sepulchre. 
 
 XII. 
 
 Promise the Jesuit had made, 
 With hand on cross devoutly laid, 
 To die, or with his child return 
 Ere morning dried Night's dewy urn : 
 That hour was passed : -why tarried he 1 
 Nought save low breeze, and rustling tree, 
 Dull, measured tramp of column long, 
 Loud oath, rude jest, and losel song, 
 Clangor of mail, and sabre's ring 
 Replied to his self-questioning. 
 
 XIII. 
 
 When the long line, from forest gray, 
 Debouched in glittering array, 
 And, with a lighter movement, trod 
 Green floors of fresh, unshadowed sod, 
 Stretching away to groves unhewn 
 Autaugua round, that dark Lagoon ! 
 Well might their general declare, 
 Eye never looked on vale more fair. 
 Wind wafted fragrance, and his steed 
 Sank, fetlock-deep, in beds of flowers ; 
 
THE BATTLE. 165 
 
 Brooks wimpled by, in playful speed, 
 And ancient pines beyond the mead, 
 Reared their dark, emerald towers. 
 
 XIY. 
 
 " By Jesuit though falsely told, 
 
 Broad valley ! that thy sons were bold, 
 
 A truth was uttered when he said 
 
 Thy breast an Eden lay outspread 
 
 That spoken word would ill express 
 
 Thy pure, primeval loveliness ! 
 
 Here, should the lilies o'er the brave 
 
 Float while yon river rolls a wave 
 
 Here, knees in homage should be bent 
 
 To Louis, the magnificent ! 
 
 In spite of armies hither led, 
 
 Bearing aloft the Cross of Red, 
 
 Though howled, like wolves upon the track, 
 
 The Five Leagued Nations at their back!" 
 
 Thus, curbing in his war-horse fleet, 
 
 While his heroic soul was tuned 
 To rapture by that vision sweet, 
 
 De Nonville with himself communed. 
 
 xv. 
 
 In forest warfare better taught, 
 A shaded trail his allies sought, 
 Where twilight held unquestioned reign, 
 
166 YONNONDIO. 
 
 Avoiding flat, and open plain. 
 Limber in motion as the snake, 
 
 Oft would some scout thick-top of tree 
 His screened observatory make, 
 
 And look forth, long and patiently. 
 No object round was too minute 
 For their keen, critical survey ; 
 Their organs, practiced and acute, 
 Marked grassy blade and waving spray ; 
 Each starry moss-tuft on the stone, 
 Each leaf about by air-gust blown. 
 Cautious their progress was, and slow, 
 Hunting for sign of hidden foe ; 
 Heeding the squirrel's frolic bark, 
 The wood- worm's tick, in crevice dark, 
 Or close to earth applying ear, 
 Better some far-off sound to hear. 
 
 Southward the gleaming ranks moved on 
 Across a flower-enamelled lawn, 
 Their weapons flashing in the light, 
 Dark Genesee upon their right, 
 Gliding along, with even flow, 
 To join the blue Ontario. 
 Distant a crow's flight, darkly towered, 
 Upon the left, a ridge of hills, 
 
THE BATTLE. 167 
 
 In waving groves of oak embowered, 
 
 And musical with birds and rills. 
 At times the soldier looked around, 
 Thinking he trod on pasture-ground, 
 Or clearing by the woodman made 
 Within a fresh, young land of shade : 
 No cottage-home met his regard, 
 Nor blackened stump, nor log-heap charred ; 
 There, never had the scythe been swung 
 There, sharpened axe had never rung, 
 Sleek heifer lowed, or milk-maid sung ! 
 A place of bloom and smiles it lay, 
 Nature's free gift to golden day. 
 
 XVII. 
 
 Facing the west each cohort wheeled 
 When near the borders of the pond, 
 While a dark wall of wood concealed 
 
 All objects that might lie beyond ; 
 Before them, in the sunshine's blaze, 
 Basked flaunting rows of glossy maize, 
 Bearing, upon their emerald spears, 
 A heavy load of infant ears ; 
 While podded bean, and melon vine, 
 Sated with draughts of dewy wine, 
 
 Clothed in gay garniture the mould ; 
 But wasting War turned not aside, 
 And through that rich plantation rolled 
 
168 YONNONDIO. 
 
 His stern and desolating tide 
 Germs of abundance blotting out, 
 And blasting greenness in his route. 
 
 XVIII. 
 
 When a dark, hollow way was gained, 
 
 Bed of a stream for ages drained, 
 
 De Nonville, riding in the van, 
 
 Made momentary halt to scan, 
 
 On an elm-trunk, of bark bereft, 
 
 The pictured outlines of a man 
 
 Transfixed by dart, by hatchet cleft. 
 
 " Ho ! Lamberville !" the Marquis cried, 
 
 Accosting an experienced guide 
 
 " The meaning of this daub explain, 
 
 For new and fresh appears the stain !" 
 
 XIX. 
 
 "Yon sketch conveys monition stern 
 That blood will flow, and powder burn, 
 Unless our trumpets sound return ; 
 Is warning to invader given, 
 
 That never will the native fierce 
 From his old hunting-ground be driven, 
 
 While arm can strike, and weapon pierce ! 
 His tribe have laid a deadly snare, 
 And near us lie in bushy lair ; 
 The red confederates of France, 
 
THE BATTLE. 169 
 
 That lately hovered in advance, 
 Are gliding swiftly back, in fear, 
 To gain a cover in our rear : 
 My counsel, governor, would be 
 
 From thicket-edge to keep away, 
 And, westward, near the Genesee, 
 
 Our line of march at once to lay !" 
 
 " The Senecas, by arts like these, 
 Blood in a Huron-heart may freeze ; 
 But warrior who has braved the fight 
 On fields where knight encountered knight, 
 Would ill his belt and spurs deserve, 
 One inch in his career to swerve, 
 Though every tree, in forest blind, 
 A savage hid its trunk behind." 
 
 XXI. 
 
 The headmost of the line at last 
 Autaugua's narrow outlet passed ; 
 But while they forced, in disarray, 
 Through hazel underbrush their way, 
 From earth grim, crouching figures rose, 
 Like mountain-cats prepared to spring, 
 
 Counting the number of their foes, 
 With shafts notched lightly on the string ; 
 
 They cowered for one brief moment there, 
 p 
 
170 YONNONDIO. 
 
 But, ere the next flew swiftly by, 
 Rang out upon the throbbing air, 
 
 Their wild and startling battle-cry : 
 Bard hath no power to picture well 
 The might of that demoniac yell ; t 
 Back, back recoiled the valiant then, 
 And felt the frozen hand of fear 
 Knock at their hearts, as if a den, 
 By lions watched, lay yawning near ! 
 Then whirling swiftly round and round, 
 
 While a winged storm of arrows flew, 
 A pathway red the hatchet found, 
 
 Barred morion and hanberk through. 
 
 XXII. 
 
 Distinguished by his snow-white crest, 
 De Nonville, calm and self-posse st, 
 Gave, amid uproar wild and high, 
 Command with martial brevity : 
 His presence discipline restored, 
 He formed the broken ranks again 
 Flashed, in the staggering van, his sword, 
 While reared his horse by missile gored, 
 And men at arms were round him slain. 
 " Dismount, dismount, Le Troye ! and break 
 Their cover with my Rangers through ; 
 Let the long rifle music make, 
 In answer to this yelping crew !" 
 
THE BATTLE. 171 
 
 XXIII. 
 
 From his war-saddle to the ground, 
 
 Leaped the gray veteran with a bound, 
 
 While rattled sharply on his mail, 
 
 Rough, flinty arrow-heads like hail, 
 
 And forward, with elastic tread, 
 
 Promptly the charging party led. 
 
 Bold was the rush, and sternly met 
 
 By natives never daunted yet ; 
 
 Loudly mad whoop and rifle-crack 
 
 By forest-arch were echoed back : 
 
 The ponderous war-club's weighty stroke, 
 
 Clubbed gun-stocks into pieces broke, 
 
 And, blunted in its swift career, 
 
 On breastplate rang the point of spear. 
 
 Frank, and the son of hunter-race, 
 
 Breast to breast, and face to face, 
 
 Grappled in desperate embrace ; 
 
 And fast the dinted forest-floor 
 
 Grew red and slippery with gore. 
 
 XXIV. 
 
 Awhile the Senecas maintained, 
 Combatting hand to hand, their ground ; 
 Then a reluctant flight they feigned 
 On a dim trail that southward wound. 
 Darting about, from tree to tree, 
 
172 YONNONDIO. 
 
 With panther-like agility, 
 Well-aimed discharges of their bows 
 Annoyed their hot pursuing foes, 
 Whose rapid volleys, in return, 
 Wounded alone the brush and fern. 
 
 XXV. 
 
 Soon did the scene of conflict change 
 From open-wood to deeper shade, 
 Where, piled up in confusion strange, 
 Lay mouldering elm and oak decayed ; 
 At once the hoary knight foresaw 
 That a dark plot had been designed, 
 By wily enemies, to draw 
 His corps into ambushment blind, 
 Where craft, not valor, would avail, 
 And fire-lock prove protection frail. 
 " Halt ! my brave comrades, one and all ; 
 De Nonville's bugles' sound recall !" 
 
 Shouted the Baron out, in vain : 
 Like blood-hounds who had tasted gore, 
 And bayed upon the track for more, 
 
 His men dashed on amain. 
 
 XXVI. 
 
 . 
 
 Obstructions thickened in their way, 
 
 And momently the light of day, 
 
 As they advanced, grew less and less, 
 
THE BATTLE. 173 
 
 Within that hideous wilderness : 
 Their progress difficult and slow 
 Was often made by quagmire low, 
 That weight of frog could scarcely bear, 
 Dotted with grass-tufts, coarse and spare, 
 Unstirr'd by breeze, an awning spread, 
 Dismal and shaggy overhead, 
 
 That woven seemed in midnight's loom ; 
 But floundered, on the Rangers rash, 
 Vexed and bewildered, while the flash 
 
 Of ringing rifles lit the gloom. 
 
 XXVII. 
 
 Fruitless their toil ! unharmed by lead, 
 Their taunting foes before them fled ; 
 And thrill of disappointment passed 
 Through many a rough and war-worn frame, 
 When gaunt, retiring forms at last, 
 Brown shadows closing round them fast, 
 Confused and indistinct became. 
 Tumultuous sounds of flight and chase 
 Ceased for a time in thicket wild, 
 As if the Spirit of the Place 
 Awed fiery Frank and forest-child. 
 
 XXVIII. 
 
 When paused his party, breath to take, 
 After long chase through brush and brake, 
 
174 YONNONDIO. 
 
 Fatigue and wounds the bitter fruit 
 
 Of mad, disorderly pursuit, 
 
 Le Troye another trial made 
 
 To lead them back to open glade, 
 
 And felt, in labyrinthine shade, 
 
 Like mariner, his compass lost, 
 
 On unknown sea befogged and tost, 
 
 Far from safe port and friendly shore, 
 While evil bark that lured him thither,, 
 Gliding away he knew not whither x 
 
 Displayed black flag no more. 
 
 XXIX. 
 
 No well-worn wood-path was in sight 
 
 To guide his soldiery aright; 
 
 And sharply he rebuked his band 
 
 WTio followed up a wily foe 
 
 In disregard of loud command 
 
 No farther in advance to go, 
 
 " As well might hunter try to bring 
 
 Falcon at bay upon the wing, 
 
 As Christian troops, in forest haunt, 
 
 Wage warfare with the savage gaunt!" 
 
 He muttered, looking round to find 
 
 Outlet from swamp obscure and blind. 
 
THE BATTLE. 175 
 
 - 
 
 XXX, 
 
 Caparisoned, from head to heel, 
 In corslet, greaves and cap of steel 
 Encumbered by a gorgeous dress 
 That ill beseemed a wilderness, 
 Struggled the party to retrace 
 Their way from that benighted place 
 
 Chilled by the grove's eternal frown : 
 Their feet, encased in heavy boots, 
 Stumbled among ensnaring roots, 
 
 Or in the bog plunged down : 
 At random thus they fared, until 
 They reached a lazy, winding rill 
 Near its dull junction with a pool 
 Whose dark expanse lay hushed and cool, 
 When suddenly, with bended bows, 
 A cloud of savages arose, 
 Attacking them in rear and front, 
 Howling like wood-wolves when they hunt 
 Through wintry wastes, a grisly gang, 
 Bitten by hunger's pointed fang. 
 
 XXXI. 
 
 A hurtling stream of feathered darts 
 Riddled fair forms and gallant hearts ; 
 Well might the boldest feel dismay ! 
 Swept were the leading files away 
 
176 YONNONDIO. 
 
 Like the round prairie's herbage dry 
 
 Before a flame when winds are high ! 
 
 By menace and entreating word, 
 
 Above the roar of battle heard, 
 
 Rallied the knight his flying troops, 
 
 Broken in panic-stricken groups. 
 
 Though blanched his hair, from casque escaped, 
 
 And thinn'd by Time's unsparing shears, 
 
 His frame, for martial prowess shaped, 
 
 Retained the might of other years ; 
 
 His flashing eye and lifted arm, 
 
 In that dread crisis of alarm, 
 
 A knightly scorn of fear revealed 
 Worthy of Bayard when he met, 
 By overwhelming odds beset, 
 
 Death on his last red field. 
 
 XXXII. 
 
 He charged, to break the hostile ring 
 His serried ranks encompassing, 
 
 Thrice, with a cheer, in vain ; 
 Five hundred bows the shaft propelled, 
 Five hundred throats the war-cry yelled, 
 And, one by one, the knight beheld 
 
 His ill-starred Rangers slain. 
 
THE BATTLE. 177 
 
 XXXIII. 
 
 Warned by a runner of his band 
 That Yonnondio was at hand, 
 Speeding with Indian guides, to aid 
 His brethren trapped in ambuscade, 
 Old Can-ne-hoot, by loud halloo, 
 A knot of braves around him drew, 
 Resolved that tomahawk and knife 
 Should end at once the desperate strife ; 
 Prompt the dread movement to discern, 
 Exclaimed the Knight, in accent stern 
 " My lads, prepare their rush to meet, 
 And, mark ye, there is no retreat ! 
 Throw not an ounce of lead away 
 God and St. Dennis be our stay !" 
 
 XXXIV. 
 
 There was a momentary hush ; 
 Then, giving cry like unleashed hounds, 
 Dashed forward, with impetuous rush, 
 Wild warriors clearing brake and bush, 
 
 In quick, elastic bounds : 
 Guns, levelled with destructive aim, 
 Poured forth a crimson sheet of flame, 
 Ringing, in one explosion loud, 
 The knell of many a warrior proud ; 
 But staunch survivors faltered not, 
 
178 YONNONDIO. 
 
 While round them hissed the raking shot, 
 Old Can-ne-hoot, their forest-king, 
 Through sulphurous vapor following. 
 
 XXXV. 
 
 As avalanche, from mountain-head 
 Descending with resistless force, 
 Upwrenches from primeval bed 
 
 Huge blocks of granite in its course ; 
 As freshet, swollen in its flow 
 By heavy rain, dissolving snow, 
 Against a bridge of massive arch, 
 Too frail for its restrainless march, 
 Dashing in thunder and in spray, 
 Timber and buttress tears away, 
 Thus back that Indian onslaught bore 
 Crushed phalanx that could form no more. 
 Followed a diabolic yell 
 When foeman, brained by hatchet, fell ; 
 Though the poor, mangled wretch yet breathed, 
 Dark fingers, in his hair enwreathed, 
 Secured, by aid of teeth and knife, 
 Grim, reddened trophies of the strife. 
 
 XXXVI. 
 
 A gallant remnant of the Franks, 
 
 Though shattered and o'erthrown their ranks, 
 
 Fought, fearfully outnumbered, on, 
 
THE BATTLE. 179 
 
 And buffet dealt with arms of brawn 
 Encircled by a howling crew ; 
 His armor hacked, with blood-drops wet, 
 A leader's voice and presence yet 
 
 Cheered that devoted few. 
 Enraged to see his boldest braves 
 Recoil like spent and broken waves 
 Encountered by an iron strand, 
 Old Can-ne-hoot, his scalp-lock white 
 Dancing in air, upon the knight 
 
 Rushed, tomahawk in hand. 
 
 XXXVII. 
 
 Though partly parried was the blow, 
 Its force unhelmed his stalwart foe, 
 Whose eye flashed lightning, while his blade 
 Wounded with every pass it made. 
 Equal in years in height the same, 
 Both known by martial deed to fame, 
 Fought, with youth's ardor uncontroll'd, 
 Stroke answering stroke those warriors old. 
 Unblenching, though in copious tide 
 Oozed the dark gore from gashes wide, 
 The Sachem, naked to the waist, 
 His mail-sheathed adversary faced. 
 
180 YONNONDIO. 
 
 XXXVIII. 
 
 His glance more deadly and malign 
 Grew while he felt his strength decline 
 More proud a spirit in which burned 
 Impulse that fear and mercy spurned; 
 Regardless of unequal fight, 
 
 His long leg-knife he drew, 
 When the sharp weapon of the knight 
 Descending, clove the handle light 
 
 Of his war-axe in two. 
 Not fleeter pouncing eagle flies 
 To rob the fish-hawk of his prize ; 
 Shark, scenting a repast of blood, 
 Not swifter hurries through the flood, 
 Than, dodging death-blow, by the wrist 
 Seized he his dread antagonist, 
 Whose left arm free, a pistol press'd 
 Against the maddened Indian's breast: 
 A bright flash heralded the ball 
 One moment stood, erect and tall, 
 Old Can-ne-hoot the next, he fell, 
 His frowning brow still terrible ; 
 Low was a mighty Sachem brought 
 His last fight had a brave man fought ! 
 
 XXXIX. 
 
 Have ye not seen, on Western plain, 
 When leader, shagg'd and old, is slain, 
 
THE BATTLE. 181 
 
 With angry roaring on their foes, 
 Gallop a herd of buffaloes ; 
 Huge forms in front, unstaid by fear, 
 Pushed onward by the frantic rear j 
 Their eyes, while horns tossed high in air, 
 Glowing like coals through matted hair *? 
 Impelled by wrath more frightful far, 
 Waking the wildest howl of war 
 To higher pitch of frenzy fired, 
 When, grasping knife, their Chief expired, 
 Avenging sons of forest brown, 
 To earth, in one dread rush, bore down 
 Their foemen few and tired. 
 
 XL. 
 
 De Nonville, from a fearful doom, 
 Too late arrived his van to save ; 
 Strewed was a place of blood and gloom 
 With shattered gun and tarnished plume, 
 
 Cleft helm and broken glaive. 
 The natives raised retreat-halloo ! 
 When, sounding charge, his bugle blew, 
 Just finished their employment dread 
 Of scalping the disfigured dead. 
 Ah ! well might that revolting scene 
 Give paleness to his troubled mien f 
 Where were his gallant rifle-corps 
 Who mustered, full of life, at morn 1 
 Q 
 

 182 YONNONDIO. 
 
 High would their pulses beat no more 
 When banner waved and blade was drawn ! 
 All all had died save leader gray, 
 A pinioned captive borne away, 
 Reserved for torture at the stake 
 By tribesmen, filled with rage and grief, 
 That glad the wandering ghost would make 
 Of Can ne-hoot, their fallen Chief. 
 
 XLI. 
 
 Galled by the sting of wounded pride 
 By dark disaster mortified, 
 The baffled Marquis offered gold 
 For Iroquois scalps in vain ; 
 Cowed were his allies to behold, 
 Their couch the swamp's defiling mould, 
 Hacked forms of Frenchmen slain : 
 Boughs bending o'er them, sad of hue, 
 As if old elms around that grew 
 Dropped down a melancholy pall, 
 And mourned, though mute, their timeless fall. 
 
 END OP CANTO SIXTH. 
 

 1 
 
 rr JONNONDIO. 
 
 CANTO SEVENTH. 
 
 THE REVELATION. 
 
 They bound him to the fatal stake, and high 
 
 Destruction's fagots round the warrior piled : 
 There was unwonted moisture in his eye, 
 
 For prayed he, in that moment, for his child ; 
 A torch was thrown, by hand with blood denied, 
 On the dark death-pyre : whence, oh whence the 
 
 shriek 
 
 That, rising shrill above the tumult wild, 
 Tinged with a wanner shade the victim's cheek, 
 While parted his blanched lips in vain essay to speak ! 
 
 Retreating from the fatal spot 
 Where Valor died but yielded not, 
 Thickly the Senecas o'erspread, 
 
184 YONNONDIO. 
 
 With hiding brush and leaves, their dead : 
 For sorrowing would warrior go, 
 Dishonored by the knife of foe, 
 To lands the setting sun below. 
 When reached the river's willowed side 
 Pirogues they launched upon the tide, 
 And, landing on the western shore, 
 A moment looked the landscape o'er. 
 The matted forest-depths were mute ; 
 Heard was no larum on the gale, 
 Announcing Frank in close pursuit, 
 Or hated Huron on the trail. 
 Checked by the Romans of the West, 
 Invader paused, with drooping crest, 
 To scoop for brethren where they fell 
 In earth a rude receptacle : 
 Knowing that scream of carrion-bird 
 Another day would there be heard, 
 While snarling monster of the wold 
 Snuffed tainted air, and pawed the mould. 
 
 n. 
 
 Thou phantom, Military Fame ! 
 How long will Genius laud thy name, 
 And curtain features from the sight 
 More foul than those Khorassen's seer 
 Hid behind veil of silver bright, 
 Tempting his victim to draw near ! 
 
THE REVELATION. 185 
 
 How long will thy misleading lamp, 
 Through regions wrapped in smoke and fire, 
 To slaughter's cavern, red and damp, 
 Guide beardless boy and gray -haired sire ] 
 Up, fearless battlers for the right, 
 And flood old groaning earth with light! 
 Bid nations ponder well and pause 
 When blade corrupt ambition draws 
 Oh ! teach the world that conquest wears 
 A darker brand than felon bears ; 
 Prolific fount, from earliest time, 
 Of murder, orphanage and crime ! 
 
 HI. 
 
 Obtained, at last, returning band 
 
 A view of fortress, rudely plann'd, 
 
 Fenced by huge palisadoes round, 
 
 And wanting bastion, trench and mound. 
 
 Its anxious inmates, wild of face, 
 
 Rushed in a body from the place, 
 
 While rose, from forest edge, a cry, 
 
 Now plaintive, low now shrill and high 
 
 Each repetition of the call 
 
 Announcing an invader's fall. 
 
 News thus, to children of the shade, 
 
 By marked, expressive sound conveyed, 
 
 Telling of victory achieved, 
 
 All, with a frantic joy, received ; 
 Q2 
 
186 YONNONDIO. 
 
 And hurried on to meet, the while, 
 Plumed martial forms in Indian file, 
 Advancing : slow and dignified 
 Their march across the clearing wide. 
 
 IT. 
 
 Red pole in front a savage bore, 
 
 On which hung scalps begrimmed with gore ; 
 
 Behind him came the captive knight, 
 
 Wounded, and stripped of armor bright 
 
 His figure of heroic mould 
 
 Fixing regard of young and old, 
 
 Who augured, from his dauntless air, 
 
 That torture he would bravely bear, 
 
 And, as beseemed a warrior, die 
 
 Giving no groan of agony, 
 
 v. 
 
 Changed was wild ecstacy to grief, 
 
 When, looking vainly for their chief, 
 
 Ran glances of the troubled throng, 
 
 From man to man, the line alpng. 
 
 A melancholy wail and low 
 
 Told of a leader's overthrow ; 
 
 To hollow dirge notes for the dead 
 
 The long procession timed its tread, 
 
 For lord had Can-ne-wa-gus lost, 
 
 And mourning tribe, from child to seer, 
 
THE REVELATION. 187 
 
 Deemed triumph bought at fearful cost 
 Marred by the fall of one so dear. 
 
 VI. 
 
 Passed was the middle hour of day, 
 Down poured the sun a milder ray, 
 When elders of the tribe convened, 
 
 To fix the doom of captive brave, 
 Beneath old oaks whose umbrage screened 
 
 Partly from sight the council grave. 
 From long-stemmed pipes rose fragrant fumes, 
 And curled around their eagle plumes ; 
 Awhile impressive silence reigned, 
 And sitting posture each maintained. 
 Men of inferior renown 
 Formed outer ring of faces brown, 
 And near, life giving to the scene, 
 Dark beldame of malignant mien, 
 And stripling, armed with tiny bow, 
 On noiseless feet moved to and fro, 
 A better view of Frank to gain 
 Who mighty Can-ne-hoot had slain. 
 
 VII. 
 
 At length a man of many snows, 
 A forest patriarch, arose ; 
 Bright medal on his bosom shone, 
 And richly broidered was his zone ; 
 
188 YONNONDIO. 
 
 Closely he drew his robe of skin 
 Around a shrunken frame and thin, 
 Then thus harangued his brethren sage 
 In the cracked, trembling tones of age. 
 " Heirs of a country, green and wide, 
 O'erran and conquered by your sires, 
 In vain hath Yonnondio tried 
 To quench, in war's ensanguined tide, 
 
 One of the Five Great Fires ! 
 Its smoke-clouds rising, thick and high, 
 Have filled with tears his blinded eye ; 
 Its angry blaze his hand hath burned 
 
 The hatchets of my tribe are red 
 But home the chief hath not returned 
 Who Yonnondio's fury spurned, 
 
 And forth the brave to battle led," 
 
 VIII. 
 
 " At morn, upon the dew- webbed glade, 
 His moccason no impress made ; 
 Swifter than eagles were his feet 
 Who could in craft with him compete ? 
 His voice was deeper in its tone 
 Than trumpet by the storm-king blown, 
 And his dread arm no second blow 
 In battle gave opposing foe. 
 By lightning of the Pale -Face slain, 
 Alone let not the Mighty stray, 
 
THE REVELATION. 189 
 
 Across a wide and dreary plain, 
 
 Toward the Green Isles of endless day. 
 
 I hear his whisper on the gale 
 
 He calls upon yon captive pale 
 The briars from his path to clear : 
 
 Men of Ge-nun-de-wah, awake ! 
 
 And high, around the blackened stake, 
 The funeral-pile uprear !" 
 
 IX. 
 
 To interjections of assent 
 Gave his dark auditory vent 
 
 While the time-honored prophet spoke ; 
 And when, with flashing eye, they heard 
 Die on the breeze his closing word, 
 
 The ring its order broke : 
 A tribe's united lips poured out 
 One frightful and revengeful shout 
 Hags laughed, and clapped their skinny hands 
 Till rattled loud their bracelet-bands ; 
 In side-long dance like demons yelled, 
 Startling and mystic orgies held, 
 And sentenced prisoner abused, 
 To every term of insult used. 
 
 x. 
 
 They told him that his nation base 
 Were whiter far of heart than face 
 
190 YONNOND10. 
 
 That petticoat, not, warrior's crest 
 
 And costume, would beseem him best, 
 
 And squaw, that gave him birth, did style 
 
 The mother of a coward vile. 
 
 Mid taunting screams of fierce delight, 
 
 Tribesmen for cruelty renowned, 
 
 And decked with spoils of recent fight, 
 
 To painted post the Christian knight 
 
 With toughened ligature then bound. 
 
 Tormentors drew his foot upon 
 
 The fatal bear-skin moccason; 
 
 And flaming torch placed o'er his head, 
 
 An emblem sure of fiery doom, 
 
 On his white hair a radiance shed, 
 
 And lit the wild-wood's leafy gloom. 
 
 XI. 
 
 No vain appeal for life he made 
 
 From arm of flesh hoped not for aid ; 
 
 A glance, that seemed to say * adieu /' 
 
 On sublunary things he threw, 
 
 And strove, with mind composed, to meet 
 
 A fate with agony replete. 
 
 He longed, in that dark trial-hour, 
 
 On Blanche, his erring child, to gaze 
 
 Ere while his fondly cherished flower, 
 
 And light of his declining days ; 
 
 He yearned upon her head to pour 
 

 THE REVELATION. 191 
 
 A father's benison once more, 
 
 And hear his name pronounced in tone, 
 
 Gentle and low Tier mother's own. 
 
 XII. 
 
 Pine splinters, resinous and dry, 
 
 Light brush, and sere leaves of the wild, 
 
 A death-pyre forming loose and high, 
 
 Round the brave veteran were piled, 
 
 And redly shone a crackling brand, 
 
 To light it, in the Prophet's hand ; 
 
 But, ere the smoking fuel blazed, 
 
 Heard was the marked, peculiar cry 
 
 By Indian warrior ever raised 
 
 When camp-ground of his nation nigh. 
 
 Arrested by that signal loud 
 
 Was torture's work ; and on the crowd 
 
 A momentary silence fell ; 
 
 Then rose a shrill, responsive yell 
 
 As all imperfectly descried, 
 
 Through net-work of the leaves, at last, 
 
 De Grai and his recovered bride, 
 
 Young Wun-nut-hay, the greenwood's pride, 
 
 And cinctured forms, with faces dyed 
 
 In battle-paint, approaching fast. 
 
192 YONNONDIO. 
 
 XIII. 
 
 The motley multitude beheld 
 Another spectacle disclosed, 
 When towering oaks, all gray with eld, 
 Their trunks no longer interposed. 
 Four Senecas on hurdle bore 
 A pale-browed warrior wounded sore ; 
 Though moss the wattled osiers lined 
 On which his helpless limbs reclined, 
 And moved, without rude jar, along, 
 His bearers, firm of tread and strong, 
 To stifle broken moan of pain 
 He tasked his ebbing strength in vain : 
 And though a day in flowery June 
 Not long had passed its fervid noon, 
 Shook the poor wretch, as if witta cold, 
 And hollow cheek and glassy eye 
 Impressively beholder told 
 That his last hour was speeding by. 
 
 XIV. 
 
 Air rang with shouts when nearer drew, 
 In ordered line, the comers new ; 
 And when low boughs concealed no more 
 Bound victim by his funeral-pyre, 
 There came a sudden paleness o'er 
 The cheek of Blanche and her old sire 
 

 THE REVELATION. 193 
 
 Glared wildly on encircling foes, 
 
 Like one just woke from horrid dream, 
 
 And, clear above the din, arose 
 
 His frantic daughter's frightful scream. 
 
 xv. 
 
 " Give way, incarnate fiends, give way !" 
 Shouted impetuous De Grai 
 Wrath glittered in his proud dark eye, 
 His unsheathed dagger flashed on high, 
 And parted while he dashed along, 
 As keel divides rough waves, the throng. 
 On burning brand he fearless trode, 
 Through kindling fagots opened road, 
 And, though black clouds of heated smoke 
 Their blinding folds around him twined, 
 He cut, with quick, indignant stroke, 
 Bands that the fainting knight confined. 
 
 XVI. 
 
 "Ho! Senecas ! and will ye see, 
 Unmoved, the foe yon captive free 1 
 Down with the white intruder, down ! 
 And scalp hack piece-meal from his crown !" 
 Aroused by taunt of wrinkled seer, 
 And grasping bow, war-axe and spear, 
 At once fierce forms begirt De Grai, 
 Bearing from stake Le Troye away ;- 
 
194 YONNONDIO. 
 
 As booming waters of the deep 
 
 Round some lone sea-rock darkly sweep 
 
 When evil powers the storm unchain, 
 
 And skill of mariner is vain. 
 
 Already leaving bloody trace, 
 
 Long, whistling shaft had grazed his face, 
 
 And flying hatchet from his head, 
 
 A glossy lock of brown had shred, 
 
 When cleared On-yit-ha, with a bound, 
 
 The living wall that hemmed him round, 
 
 And made, attention to command, 
 
 A haughty toss of lifted hand ; 
 
 Then to full height his form updrew, 
 
 And thus rebuked the savage crew. 
 
 XVII. 
 
 "Rash, shameless men ! would ye o'erthrow 
 
 Laws honored by the great of yore 1 
 
 Drop tomahawk, unstring the bow, 
 
 And to its sheath the knife restore ! 
 
 My brother, whom ye fain would slay, 
 
 Though wearing still the pallid shade 
 
 By fathers caught from ocean's spray, 
 
 Is clansman by adoption made. 
 
 Long in our vale he hath encamped ; 
 
 My totem on his breast is stamped, 
 
 And Can-ne-hoot on him conferred 
 
 A name that rings like battle-word !" 
 
THE REVELATION. 195 
 
 Allusion to their fallen chief, 
 
 From dusky throng called groan of grief, 
 
 And wond'ring orator inquired 
 
 Why thus they mourned 1 then mischief fired 
 
 The wily Prophet's serpent eye, 
 
 And moved his lips in prompt reply. 
 
 XVIII. 
 
 " His face great Ou-we-nee-you veils 
 Behind a black and lowering cloud ; 
 
 For Can-ne-hoot a nation wails 
 
 The monarch-pine in dust is bowed : 
 
 Protecting roof his branches cast, 
 
 Above our heads, when roared the blast ; 
 
 Through rolling years his aged form 
 
 Defied red bolt of growling storm ; 
 
 Mad whirlwinds wrestled with his trunk, 
 
 And from the dread encounter shrunk ; 
 
 But never more to glad our eyes, 
 
 Above the forest-tops, will rise 
 
 His brow, undimmed by winter's blight, 
 
 His crown rejoicing in the light/' 
 
 XIX. 
 
 " Why tell On-yit-ha of the fame 
 That lustre gives paternal name ? 
 No eulogist red warrior needs 
 From Erie to the Salt Lake known 
 
196 YONNONDIO. 
 
 The tale of whose heroic deeds 
 Swift courier-winds abroad have blown. 
 In battle with yon pale-face fell 
 The ruler that we loved so well : 
 He slumbers with his broken bow, 
 Rude covering- of leaves below, 
 Pierced by the lightning of the foe. 
 
 xx. 
 
 " By young and old he was revered, 
 Proud far-off tribes his anger feared ; 
 Death in a hundred wars he faced, 
 His lodge a thousand trophies graced. 
 On the green prairies of the west, 
 And where, through wilderness remote, 
 Missouri rolls with turbid breast, 
 Pawnee and Omahaw he smote. 
 At their own hearths his arrow shot 
 The Chictaghic and Wyandot : 
 He woke, on banks of southern stream, 
 Catawba from his midnight dream, 
 And victor paced the lonely shore 
 On which, in foam dissolving, breaks 
 Forever, with a solemn roar, 
 The dark blue SIRE of mighty Lakes." 
 
THE REVELATION. 197 
 
 XXI. 
 
 Emotion of revenge and grief 
 A passing moment shook the chief, 
 And covered with a cloud his face, 
 Then gave to nobler feelings place. 
 " The task is difficult, old SEER, 
 
 Deep groans of anguish to repress 
 While rings announcement in mine ear 
 
 That I am fatherless 
 That he, the mighty one, is slain, 
 On whom the Five Great Tribes in vain, 
 When boughs, wrenched off by whirlwinds, fall 
 From tree of peace, henceforth will call. 
 The proudest seat, at council fire, 
 Is vacant made by death of sire ; 
 And loud will be the voice of wail 
 For Eagle of this river- vale 
 In the bright fulness of renown, 
 And fighting for our homes, struck down : 
 But in our sorrow feel we not 
 
 That his must be a happy lot ; 
 
 For spirits of the just and brave 
 
 Pass, when the war of life is done, 
 
 To a green land, that knows no grave, 
 
 Outspread below the setting sun." 
 
 Bfi 
 
198 YONNONDIO. 
 
 XXII. 
 
 " In fair encounter with his foe, 
 
 Eye meeting eye, and foot to foot, 
 Yon wounded chief, with locks of snow, 
 
 Shot down the mighty Can-ne-hoot ; 
 And, like proud ancestors of old, 
 Heroes in reverence I hold 
 Regardless of their race and name r 
 Enough that they are heirs of fame 
 Who scorn dishonorable deed, 
 And born their fellow-men to lead ! 
 Yon Pale-Face, who my father slew, 
 Hath proved himself a warrior true ; 
 And time the law hath hallowed made 
 That gives red native of the shade, 
 When death hath sadly thinn'd the band, 
 A right war-captive to demand, 
 Be his complexion pale or red, 
 To fill void places of the dead !" 
 
 XXIII. 
 
 " Though colored by the foam-flecked wave, 
 
 Od-deen-yo is my brother brave : 
 
 Regard from Can-ne-hoot he won 
 
 Who called him his adopted son ; 
 
 Proud eagle feathers form his crest, 
 
 And gleams the turtle on his breast, 
 
THE REVELATION. 199 
 
 Tokens by which our laws alone 
 The grade of chieftainship make known. 
 Therefore to him the right belongs 
 To free yon captive from his thongs, 
 And wash the death-paint from his cheek 
 Ye, who that right dare question, speak "/ 
 
 XXIV. 
 
 On-yit-ha's tone was stern and high 
 He paused in vain to hear reply ; 
 By vengeful thought no longer fired, 
 The dark encircling throng retired ; 
 Vanished all outward sign of strife, 
 Replaced in leathern sheath was knife ; 
 Aside the knotty war-club flung, 
 Keen hatchet lowered, and bow unstrung. 
 
 XXV. 
 
 Meanwhile, by friendly arm upborne, 
 His vesture blackened, scorched and torn, 
 From swoon the rescued Baron woke ; 
 A moment on De Grai he gazed, 
 Repulsively his arm then raised, 
 
 And fiercely thus outbroke. 
 " Hence ! fell betrayer of my child, 
 Oh, once the pure and undefiled ! 
 Hence ! rather than owe life to thee, 
 Thou monster of iniquity 
 
200 YONNONDIO. 
 
 In fair exterior disguised! 
 
 Tortures more dreadful I would bear 
 
 Than fiend, in region of despair, 
 
 For Wo hath yet devised : 
 And added, while he back recoiled 
 As if his person had been soiled 
 By some contagious thing and foul 
 " On thee may black misfortune scowl ! 
 A father's curse be on thy head 
 To blast" ere further word he said, 
 Smote on his ear a piteous cry, 
 Rustled the leaf-clad thicket nigh, 
 And wildly toward the stern old man, 
 With outstretched arms, a lady ran, 
 And, falling at his feet, thus sued 
 In penitential attitude, 
 
 XXVI. 
 
 " Father ! thine erring Blanche forgive, 
 Oh, breathe the word that bids her live ! 
 Her heart, wild home of sin and fear, 
 Would break thy malison to hear : 
 From thee she hath been absent long, 
 And thou hast suffered grievous wrong; 
 111 was repaid thy watchful love ; 
 Forgetful of a God above, 
 She left thee, lured by lover's call, 
 Gray haired, and lonely in thy hall : 
 
THE REVELATION. 201 
 
 That God hath visited with pain 
 Her throbbing pulse, and fevered brain ; 
 A babe from her embraces torn, 
 Whose lonely grave, in woods unshorn, 
 Is black with shade both night and morn. 
 How changed the face, to thee upcast, 
 Since looked on by a father last ! 
 The rose that gave it bloom hath fled, 
 The joy that made it bright is dead." 
 
 XXVII. 
 
 Awhile, in breast of haughty sire, 
 Love waged tumultuous war with ire : 
 The former triumphed and he raised 
 From earth the supplicant, and gazed 
 Intently on her bloodless face ; 
 Then while the tears fell fast and warm, 
 Strained to his heart her drooping form 
 
 In passionate embrace. 
 Though dawned and fled had many a day, 
 And thinner grown his locks of gray, 
 Since Blanche his castle-hold forsook 
 Without one parting word or look, 
 By him forgotten in that hour 
 Was her neglected lute and bower, 
 Filial ingratitude the chief 
 Ingredient in his cup of grief; 
 
202 YONNONDIO. 
 
 His lonely home, unlighted hearth, 
 
 And hopes, frail blossoms, crushed to earth. 
 
 XXVIII. 
 
 The being circled by his arms, 
 Though dimmed by agony were charms 
 Once lauded by the courtly throng 
 Which bard had made his theme of song, 
 Was lovely still : and one recalled 
 By frozen bonds of death enthralled ; 
 For in the blue of her soft eye 
 Gleamed the rich light of days gone by, 
 And seemed her glossy, chestnut hair, 
 The same her mother used to wear 
 When the proud nobles of the land 
 Were rival-suitors for her hand. 
 
 xxtx. 
 
 "Cling closely to this bosom old, 
 
 Fair image of the lost and dear ! 
 I cannot deem thy mother cold, 
 
 And in her shroud, while thou art ne ar. 
 My prayer the Holy One hath heard, 
 
 And hither hath the wanderer sped 
 As speedeth to her nest the bird 
 
 When day -light leaves the mountain-head. 
 Although a blighted name is thine, 
 And stained the honor of my line, 
 
THE REVELATION. 203 
 
 By day and night, on land and sea, 
 
 My dreams and thoughts have been of thee." 
 
 XXX. 
 
 " Oh I I have borne what few can bear, 
 And in my heart the bitter springs 
 
 Of grief been opened, while despair 
 
 Swept with rude hand the quivering strings ; 
 
 But on my wretchedness a ray 
 
 Of comfort hath been shed to day, 
 
 For I have looked upon my child, 
 
 Poor, houseless wanderer of the wild, 
 
 And heard her thrilling voice outpour 
 
 Its clear, melodious tone once more ! 
 
 And can it be that flower so fair 
 
 Hath breathed contaminated air 
 
 That worms within its heart lie coiled, 
 
 And every fragrant leaf unsoiled 1 
 
 That never will the minstrel-strain, 
 
 Cheer my ancestral home again 
 
 That soon its hospitable hearth 
 
 Will colder be than burial earth, 
 
 While creatures haunt the ruin gray 
 
 Fostered by silence and decay 1 
 
 The Demon lies, my daughter dear ! 
 
 WTio whispers ever in mine ear 
 
 That paramour of wretch thou art 
 
 All red of hand and black of heart ! 
 
204 YONNONDIO. 
 
 The treach'rous murderer who gave 
 To MORDAUNT an untimely grave !" 
 
 XXXI. 
 
 " By whom" a feeble voice exclaimed 
 
 " Am I, poor dying sinner, named V 
 
 The Baron turned abruptly round, 
 
 His eye directed by the sound, 
 
 And underneath an aged tree, 
 
 While summer-winds shook fitfully 
 
 The leaves upon its hoary bough, 
 
 De Lisle, the Jesuit, descried 
 
 Through grim disguise of paint that dyed 
 
 Contorted face, and troubled brow. 
 
 XXXII. 
 
 On bed of shaggy fells he lay, 
 And, bending o'er him, Wun-nut-hay 
 A gourd-shell to his lips applied, 
 Filled from the streamlet's lapsing tide. 
 In haste a deep, reviving draught, 
 To cool his burning thirst, he quaffed ; 
 Then, while his glance new lustre caught, 
 Impatiently Le Troye besought 
 By word and gesture to draw near ; 
 As if the wretch, ere tongue grew cold, 
 At length dark secret would unfold 
 Cherished for many a year. 
 
THE REVELATION. 205 
 
 XXXIII. 
 
 Approaching, as the priest desired, 
 
 The Baron of his state inquired ; 
 
 Gazed, with commiserating glance, 
 
 Upon his changing countenance, 
 
 While, wet by drops from wound undressed, 
 
 Red grew the robe that wrapped his breast. 
 
 " A few more pangs will rend this form, 
 
 And closed will be a day of storm 
 
 A few more groans these lips forsake, 
 
 And life's frail, golden chalice break*" 
 
 XXXIV. 
 
 " When torn by lead, or biting steel, 
 The lacerated flesh may heal ; 
 But drug and rare balsamic weed 
 Were never known to work a cure 
 In bosoms guilty and impure, 
 With ulcers filled that inly bleed j 
 The fatal bullet of De G-rai, 
 Lodged in my trunk, gives little pain 
 Compared with fires that night and day 
 Feed slowly on my shattered brain. 
 If I could weep repentant tears, 
 Methinks my pulse would calmer grow, 
 And taunting demon, in mine ears, 
 Would cease the trump of doom to blow : 
 
206 YONNONDIO. 
 
 But sooner would joy's roseate hue 
 Flush the cold features of a corse, 
 Than one reviving drop bedew 
 These withered cheeks and, aye, remorse 
 Wakes memory of evil deeds, 
 Waving the black flag of despair, 
 And, kissing cross and counting beads, 
 I murmur forth unanswered prayer. 
 
 XXXV. 
 
 Accusing conscience in my heart 
 Plunged deeply an envenomed dart, 
 When, breathing wo in every word, 
 Thy voice, addressing Blanche, I heard : 
 And, while around me dimly thronged 
 The phantoms of the buried past, 
 I prayed that those whom I had wronged 
 Forgiving glance on me would cast 
 Before my tortured soul took flight j 
 And listen, while the word was spoken, 
 Fraught with a power to reunite 
 The ties of love by slander broken." 
 
 XXXVI. 
 
 " No brother of the craft am I, 
 Who shrive the guilty ere they die : 
 In penance-cell I never stood, 
 And warrior's helm, not monkish hood, 
 
THE REVELATION. 207 
 
 Comports with my profession best. 
 But why disquieted in mind ? 
 A holy man should be resigned 
 When passing to the Land of Rest : 
 Where the tree falleth, let it lie ! 
 Nor doth it matter, when we die, 
 What hands the turf above us heap ; 
 And, Priest ! as calm will be thy sleep 
 Beneath the sunless forest mould, 
 As in dark crypt of convent old." 
 
 XXXVII. 
 
 " Why should remembrance overpower 
 Thy spirit in its parting hour ? 
 What secret dread can breast of thine 
 Within its hidden depths enshrine t 
 Thy name, De Lisle, both far and near, 
 Is to thy wandering Order dear ; 
 For banner of the Cross by thee 
 Displayed hath been on land and sea, 
 And rugged ways thy feet have trod, 
 Ambassador to man from God," 
 
 XXXVIII. 
 
 The dying Jesuit replied 
 In accent unto scorn allied ; 
 " Beneath a friar's dusky stole 
 May lurk a stern, revengeful soul ; 
 
208 YONNONDIO. 
 
 And any hypocrite may make 
 Prayers, long and loud, at holy shrine, 
 Or, with meek, solemn look, partake 
 Of consecrated bread and wine. 
 Although my garb is coarse and plain, 
 And faded by the wind and rain, 
 A gallant livery I wore 
 When, inmate of thy castle hall, 
 I gaily paced its marble floor, 
 And gazed upon its pictured wall/* 
 
 XXXIX. 
 
 " Start not! I am no phantom dread, 
 Though long have I been mourned as dead 1 
 Not know me, Baron 1 who from dust 
 The banner of thy fathers raised, 
 Reckless of pike and sabre-thrust, 
 And battle-fires that round him blazed ] 
 " If told, De Lisle, by thee aright, 
 
 That gallant boy, so wise and brave 
 Beyond his years," rejoined the Knight 
 " Is lying in a bloody grave : 
 When Blanche with her betrayer fled, 
 A swift, pursuing band he led, 
 But came not back : " 
 
 "Foul lie," exclaimed 
 The dying Jesuit "I framed." 
 Mordaunt yet lives, but feebly thrill 
 
THE REVELATION. 209 
 
 His pulses that will soon be still, 
 And mist will cloud his eye ere day 
 Dies in the arms of evening gray." 
 
 XL. 
 
 " The peasant who, in thickest fight, 
 Snatched from the dust thy banner bright, 
 And, dashing blood-drops from his face, 
 Shouted the war-cry of thy race 
 The wretch, from straw-thatched hovel raised 
 To place in dome where grandeur blazed, 
 Who dared to sue, in height of pride, 
 A high-born maid to be his bride j 
 And, crossed in love, who darkly coined 
 A tale that three fond hearts disjoined, 
 And drove from France, far, far away, 
 Thy slandered daughter and De Grai, 
 Before thee lies /" The Baron took 
 A backward step, with startled look, 
 As if he deemed, all pale and gaunt, 
 The grave had yielded up Mordaunt 1 
 
 XLI. 
 
 Resumed the dying man : " Behold 
 This fine-wrought chain of yellow gold ! 
 The glittering thing thy daughter gave, 
 As guerdon meet to deck the brave, 
 
 When rode she forth, on palfrey fleet, 
 
 s2 
 
210 YONNONDIO. 
 
 A weary, war-worn sire to greet, 
 Returning from that field where brand 
 Flashed for the first time in my hand. 
 Oh, fatal gift to me it proved ! 
 The donor from that hour was loved 
 'Till came the well remembered, morn 
 When hope was crushed by cruel scorn, 
 And, blasted by her look of pride, 
 Within me better feelings died." 
 
 XLH. 
 
 " My soul the lair of hate became, 
 And when De Grai thy daughter won, 
 I breathed detraction on his name, 
 And the black web of falsehood spun. 
 Old man ! with him be reconciled 
 Chaste was his passion for thy child !'* 
 
 XLIII, 
 
 Gloom, on the visage of Le Troye, 
 
 Was lighted up with sudden joy 
 
 To hear, from guilt's half^palsied tongue* 
 
 Truths, by remorse the prompter wrung, 
 
 That chased, from fame of young De Grai, 
 
 Clouds of imputed crime away, 
 
 And made his heart with rapture thrill 
 
 To know that Blanche was stainless still. 
 
 Awhile, fixed posture he maintained, 
 
THE REVELATION. 211 
 
 And deep emotion speech restrained ; 
 Then called he, with impassioned air, 
 Upon the fond and faithful pair. 
 As happy father hails a son 
 Returning from a distant land, 
 And breathes a hurried benison, 
 While hand is interlocked in hand, 
 So greeting the young Chevalier, 
 Whose arm upheld his daughter dear, 
 Bright drops the gray-haired warrior shed,. 
 That had in bliss their fountain-head. 
 
 XLIV. 
 
 " Heir of that gallant friend" he cried . 
 " Who, shielding me in battle, died ! 
 Pure in my sight again thou art, 
 And doubly precious to a heart 
 Too long by tales estranged from thee 
 That linked thy name with infamy. 
 While quaffing death's embittered cup, 
 Yon penitent his crime confessed, 
 And, with a groan, surrendered up 
 Long cherished secrets of his breast : 
 The cord that knit our soul in twain, 
 Was riven by his plotting brain, 
 And charges by dark hint conveyed, 
 Between us wide disruption made ; 
 But sorrow's beating storm is o'er 
 
212 YONNONDIO. 
 
 Affection's band will break no more. 
 
 Though he this grievous wrong hath done, 
 
 Oh, be not wroth with him, my son ! 
 
 A pardoned foeman let him die, 
 
 For gleams contrition in his eye ; 
 
 And, withered and untimely old, 
 
 The lost Mordaunt in him behold. 
 
 XLV. 
 
 All turned their gaze upon the Priest 
 His pulse to throb that instant ceased ; 
 No groan, appalling to the ear, 
 Betokened that he died in fear ; 
 Or struggle, terrible to sight, 
 Marked the mysterious spirit's flight; 
 But faintly trembled, with a chill, 
 His wasted form then all was still. 
 Gone from his cheek was fever's glow. 
 And crucifix his right hand pressed 
 To lips through which, in languid flow, 
 Oozed blood bedabbling chin and breast : 
 That dull gray shade his face o'erspread 
 Which dims the features of the dead 
 Imparting to the stony mien 
 Look that is ne'er forgot, once seen. 
 His hair was touched with winter's rime, 
 Sad work of passion wild, not time ; 
 And thought, anticipating age, 
 
THE REVELATION. 213 
 
 Though brief his mortal pilgrimage, 
 His brow had furrowed o'er, and drawn 
 Deep lines upon his visage wan. 
 
 XL VI. 
 
 Thus, from its tenement of clay, 
 Passed soul of God-like gifts away, 
 Whose ill-directed aim and powers 
 Robbed life of sunshine, calm and flowers 
 Thus, ere the noon of manhood, died, 
 Blind slave of impulse, scorn and pride ! 
 A being of no common mould ; 
 He wandered from the way of right, 
 And sought polluted fires to light 
 Torch of ambition uncontrolFd. 
 
 XLVII. 
 
 He might have gained the lore of sage 
 Lived a proud land-mark of his age, 
 And name, on glory's record high, 
 Transmitted to posterity ; 
 But the dread Tempter he obeyed, 
 And shipwreck of his honor made. 
 Peace to his ashes ! long ago 
 His corse was laid the sod below, 
 And forms an undistinguished part 
 Of cold earth now his fiery heart. 
 Wild red men trenched for him a grave 
 
214 YONNONDIO. 
 
 Kissed by the Genesee's dark wave ; 
 But misty centuries have fled 
 Since hollowed was that narrow bed, 
 And hidden is the spot forever 
 By shifting channel of the river. 
 
 XLVIII. 
 
 L' ENVOY TO THE READER. 
 
 Young leaves the brow of summer crowned 
 When sire unsullied daughter found, 
 And blessing on De Grai, restored 
 To place in his regard, outpoured : 
 But faded drapery from the trees 
 Was shaken down by autumn-breeze, 
 When peal of bell and minstrel-strain, 
 
 And banner waving from the wall, 
 Told that the Baron trod again 
 
 The floor of his ancestral hall. 
 
 XL IX. 
 
 Through chambers, damp and long unused, 
 Bright fires once more a warmth diffused ; 
 The butler broached, with merry jest, 
 Old cask that held the cellar's best, 
 And vanished, from the banquet-room, 
 Spirits of loneliness and gloom. 
 From kennel darting with a bound, 
 
L. 
 
 Though blest the happy pair with all 
 
 That rank and riches could bestow, 
 
 In converse used they to recall 
 
 Long hours of exile and of wo : 
 
 And both in thought did often stray 
 
 Over the blue dividing main, 
 
 And tread, with fawn-eyed Wun-nut-hay, 
 
 The Genesee's green shore again ; 
 
 Or wigwam, in his valley bright, 
 
 Depicture to the mental sight 
 
 Where dwelt, their hearts with joy elate, 
 
 On-yit-ha and his dusky mate ; 
 
 The former proud of bright fusee, 
 
 Gift of Od-deen-yo o'er the sea, 
 
 With stock whereon, in bold relief, 
 
 
 THE REVELATION. 215 
 
 A welcome whined the aged hound ; 
 And tenants of the broad estate 
 Thronged gaily to the castle-gate, 
 And waved with shout their hats on high, 
 Greeting their lord right heartily ! 
 With cries of joy, domestics old 
 Flocked their young mistress to behold; 
 Her sorrows fled, her wanderings o'er, 
 Beneath the roof of home once more, 
 While towered a form of manly pride, 
 Her faithful lover, by her side. 
 
216 YONNONDIO. 
 
 Carved was the totem of the chief: 
 The latter decked with jewels rare, 
 Prized parting gifts of sister fair, 
 And chain, that once the Jesuit wore, 
 Wrought from the purest golden ore. 
 
 
 END OP CANTO SEVENTH. 
 
 
 
NOTES. 
 
 PROEM. 
 
 Their rivers run with narrowed bounds. 
 
 " That trees are great promoters of lakes and rivers, appears from a well 
 known fact in North America; for, since the woods and forests have been 
 grubbed and cleared, all bodies of water that were considerable a century 
 ago, will not now drive a common mill." Natural History of Selborne 
 Kalm's Travels in North America. 
 
 CANTO I. 
 
 Tyrondequait was darkly lying. STANZA i. 
 
 By some writers the word was written Tyrondequait, by others Ironde- 
 quat. Smith in his history of New-York, alludes to a public trading house 
 " at Irondequat in the Senecas' land." The name given on modern maps, to 
 this romantic bay, is 'Irondequoit.' 
 
 With arching neck and air of pride 
 The white swan floated on the tide. STANZA n. 
 
 The author's father, a pioneer of Western New-York, informed him, that 
 in the first settlement of the country he saw a flock of twenty swans 
 "spreading their snowy sails" in the Bay of Tyrondequait. Two or three 
 summers since, a brother of the author shot a swan, of large dimensions, 
 while flying over a Pond in the vicinity of Avon ; and more recently, one 
 was killed in Tyrondequait Bay, by a gentleman of Rochester. 
 
 Gaunt wolf-dogs panted with the heat. STANZA IV. 
 
 The Indians rear a breed of dogs crossed with the wolf and fox remar- 
 kable for their speed, sharp noses, and pointed, upright ears. 
 
 On Cadaracqui's calm expanse. STANZA vn. 
 
 Cadaracqui is the aboriginal name of Ontario. " The Senecas (whom the 
 French call Sonontouons) are situated between Lake Erie and Cadaracqui 
 Lake, near the great fall of lagara (sometimes called Oniagira, Ochniagara,) 
 by which all the Indians that live round Lake Erie, round the Lake of the 
 Huron-, round the Lake of the Illinois, or Michigan, and round the great 
 T 
 
218 NOTES. 
 
 Upper Lake, generally pass in their way to Canada." Smith's History of 
 New-York. 
 
 While hither, on the swelling waves, 
 Float Yonnondio's hostile braves. STANZA vnr. 
 
 Yonnondio was a title originally given by the Five Nations to M. de Mont- 
 magny, but became a style of address in thftir treaties, by which succeeding 
 Governor Generals of New France were designated. 
 
 The coward Hurons guide them here, 
 
 And fondly hope, in lucky hour, 
 
 To crush the Aganuschion power, 
 
 " The Five Nations were the Mohawks, the Oneidas, the Cayugas, the On- 
 ondagns and the Seuecas. The Virginian Indians gave them the name of 
 Massawomekes; the Dutch called them Maquas, or MakakuaA; and the 
 French, Iroquois. Their appellation at home was the Mingoes, and some- 
 times the Aganuschion, or United People." THATCHER. 
 
 "When the Dutch began the settlement of this country, all the Indians on 
 Long Island and the northern shore of the sound, on the banks of the Con- 
 necticut, Hudson, Delaware and Susquehanna rivers, were in subjection to 
 the Five Nations, and acknowledge it by the payment of tribute. The 
 French historians of Canada, both ancient and modern, agree that the more 
 northern Indians were driven before the superior martial prowess of the 
 confederates. Thft author of the book entitled, " Relation Je ce qui s'ert 
 passe do plus rcmarquahlc aux mission de peres, de lacumpagnie dc Jesus 
 en la nouvelle France," published with the privilege of the French King, at 
 Paris, in 1661, informs U9 that all the Northern Indians were harassed by 
 the Five Nations. " Partout, (says he, speaking in the name of the mission- 
 aries,) nous trouvons Iroquois, qui comme nu phantome importun, nons 
 pbsede en tons liens." Smith's History of New-York. 
 
 De NonviUe, with an eye of skill, 
 
 Took measurement of slope and hill. STANZA xn. 
 
 De la Barre was succeeded by the M ir<im> 1) \ynvule, Colonel of the 
 dragoons, who arrived with a reinforcement in 1685. In the preceding your 
 the French availed tln'in.-rl\i-s of a peace with the Five Nations, to build 
 fortifications on the northern waters, an-l extending their fur trade among 
 the northern and western Indians. They were opposed by the Iroquois. 
 The Senccas, who were the most numerous of the allied tribes, and nearest 
 the theatre of action, annoyed the French, by cutting off trading parties 
 laden with ammunition and arms for the tribes who hunted for them. 
 
 De la Barre collected at Cadaracqui Fort (now Kingston,) the -forces of 
 Canada, but sickness in his camp compelled him to abandon his military 
 operations against the Five Nations, and resort to negotiation. A trca^T 
 was held at Kaihohage, between Indian deputies, with Garangula at their 
 head, and Canadian Governor. It was on this occasion that the Onondaga 
 chief in a harangue that has been pronounced by the lamented Clinton 
 equal in oratorical merit to Logan's famous speech, exclaimed Yonnon- 
 dio! you must have believed when you left Quebec, that the sun nad burnt 
 
NOTES. 219 
 
 up all the forests which render our country inaccessible to the French, or 
 that the lakes had so far overflown the banks, that they had surrounded our 
 castles, and that it was impossible for us to get out of them. Yes, surely 
 you must have dreamed so, and the curiosity of seeing so great a wonder, 
 has brought you so far. Now you are undeceived. I and the warriors here 
 present, are come to assure you, that the Senecas, Cayugas, Onondagas, 
 Oueidas and Mohawks arc yet alive. I thank you in their name, for bring- 
 ing back into their country the calumet, which your predecessor received 
 from their hands. It was happy for you, that you left underground that 
 murdering hatchet so often dyed in the blood of the French. 
 
 " Hear, Yonnondio ! I do not sleep. I have my eyes open. The sun which 
 enljghtens me, discovers to me a great captain at the head of a company of 
 soldiers, who speaks as if he were dreaming. He says, that he only came 
 to the lake to smok on the great calumet with the Onondagas. But Garan- 
 gula says he sees the contrary ; that it was to knock them on the head, if 
 sickness had not weakened the arms of the French. I see Yonnondio raving 
 in the camp of sick menf whoso lives the Great Spirit has saved by inflic- 
 ting this sickneae on them. 
 
 Hear, Yonnondio! our women had taken their clubs, our children and 
 old men had carried their bows and arrows into the heart of your camp, if 
 our warriors had not disarmed them, and kept them back, when your mes- 
 senger came to our castles. It is done, and I have said it. 
 
 Hear, Yonnondio ! We plundered none of the French, but those that 
 carried guns, powder and balls to the Twightwiesand Chictaghicks, because 
 those arms might have cost us our lives. Herein we follow the example of 
 the Jesuits, who break all the kegs of rum brought to our castles, lest the 
 drunken Indians should knock them on the head. Our warriors have not 
 beaver enough to pay for all the arms they have taken, and our old men are 
 not afraid of the war. This belt preserves my words. We carried the 
 English into our Lakes to trade there with the Utawawas and Anatoyhies, 
 as the Adirondacks brought the French to our castles to carry on a trade 
 which the English say is theirs. We are born free. We neither depend 
 on Yonnondio or Corlear (name given to the Governors of New-York.) Wo 
 may go where we please, and carry with us whom we please, and buy and 
 sell what we please. If your allies be your slaves, use them as such, com- 
 mand them to receive no other but your people." When the words of 
 Garangula were interpreted to De La Barre, stung with shame and incensed 
 he left the council. Soon after, his troops disbanded and the haughty Iro- 
 quois exulted in this signal overthrow of the Governor's schemes. 
 
 The Marquis De Nonville, says Smith in his history, was a man of courage 
 and of an enterprising spirit, and not a little animated by the consideration 
 that he was sent over to repair the disgrace which his predecessor had 
 brought upon the French Colony. By Charlevoix he is thus eulogized 
 " Egalement estimable pour sa valeur, sa droiture and sa piete." La Hon- 
 tan censures his acts while administering the government of New France, 
 in violating the treaty at Whitehall, by invading the country of the Senecas, 
 and denying the British title to the command of the Lake. In the language 
 of Smith, " De Nonville, to prevent the interruption of the French trade 
 

 
 I 
 
 220 NOTES. 
 
 with the Twightwies, determined to carry the war into the country of the 
 Five Nations. To that end he collected, in 1687, two thousand troops and 
 six hundred Indians at Montreal, and issued orders to all the officers in the 
 more westerly country to meet him at Niagara, on an expedition against the 
 Senecas. *.***** 
 
 The Five Nations, in th mean time, were preparing to give the French 
 army a suitable reception. 
 
 The Marquis having embarked his whole army in canoes, set out from 
 the fort at Cadaracqui, on the 23d of June, one-half of them passing along 
 the north and the other on the south side of the Lake, and both arrived the 
 same time at Tyrondequait, and shortly after set out on their march to- 
 wards the chief village of the Senecas, at about seven leagues' distance. 
 The main body was composed of the regulars and militia, the front and rear 
 of the Indians and traders. The scouts advanced the second day of their 
 march, as far as the corn of the village, and within pistol shot of five hun- 
 dred Senecas who lay upon their bellies undiscovered. The French who 
 imagined the enemy were all fled, quickened their march to overtake the 
 women and old men. But no sooner had they reached the foot of a hill, 
 about a mile from the village, than the Senecas raised the war-shout, and 
 in the same instant charged upon the whole army, both in the front and 
 rear. Universal confusion ensued. The battalions divided, fired upon each 
 other and flew into the wood. 
 
 The Seneca* improved the disorder of the enemy, till they were over- 
 powered by the force of numbers and compelled to retreat. The Marquis 
 was so much dispirited that he could not be persuaded to pursue the enemy 
 that day ; which gave the Senecas an opportunity to burn their village and 
 get off. Traces of De Nonville's invasion are still visible upon the banks 
 of the Genrsec. Near the village of West Rush, Monroe County, the 
 traveler and tourist can still see the ruins of a fortified encampment. 
 Outlines of mortar bed, trench and mound are well defined. The author is 
 in possession of fragments of gun and blade, picked up on the old battle 
 field which lies at the foot of a hill on which the present village of Avon is 
 situated. 
 
 It is a favorite haunt and play-place of the school boy, who is lured thither 
 by the hope of finding flint or musket ball, hatchet or arrow-heads, disinter- 
 red by the plough, or washed to view by the drenching shower. 
 
 For the fierce Huron ofLorette, 
 
 And stern Algonquin of the north. STANZA Xin. 
 
 The Hurons of Lorette were likewise called Onatoghies. The Adiron- 
 dacks, or Algonquins drove the Iroquois from their hunting-grounds around 
 Montreal, to the borders of the Lakes. 
 
 The latter having conquered the Satanas, under wise and warlike sa- 
 chems adopted the plan of fighting their old enemies in small bands, instead 
 of trusting the issue of war to a general engagement. 
 
 In turn the Adirondacks were conquered, though aided by the French 
 arms, and the war-whoop of the Five Nations became the knell of surroun- 
 ding tribes. The Niperceneans were nearly exterminated, and a wretched 
 
NOTES. 221 
 
 remnant of them fled for safety to Hudson's Bay. "The borders of Outa- 
 was which were once thickly peopled, became almost deserted." West of 
 the Alleghanics tlioy carried their arms, and warred against most of the na- 
 tions of the south. Sec Herriot, Canada, Smith, Thatcher, &c. 
 
 _1 man of energy and wile, 
 And priest of t/iat strange order known 
 From clime to clime, and zone to zone, STANZA XV. 
 
 The immediate design of other religious societies was to separate their 
 members from the world ; that of the Jesuits, to render themselves masters 
 of it. They were exempt from the usual functions of other monks, and 
 were not required to spend their time in ceremonial offices and mummeries. 
 The meanest talents were in requisition, and according to their own expres- 
 sion " the Jesuits have missionaries for the villages and martyrs for the In- 
 dians." Thus a peculiar energy was infused into their operations; which 
 has been compared to a system of mechanism containing the greatest quality 
 of power distributed to the greatest possible advantage. " The Jesuits," it 
 was said with justice, "are a naked sword whose hilt is Rome." They 
 propagated a system of the most relaxed morality, which accommodated 
 itself to the passions of men, justified their vices, tolerated their imperfec- 
 tions. To persons of the stricter principles they studied to recommend 
 themselves by the purity of their lives. While looking with a lenient eye 
 on immoral practices, they were severe in exacting a strict orthodoxy in 
 opinions. " They are a set of people," said the Abbe Boileau, " who 
 lengthen the creed, and shorten the decalogue. One of their cardinal pre- 
 cepts was as follows: "Princes and distinguished persons must by all means 
 be so managed that their ears may be gained, which will secure their 
 hearts." They neither chaunted or prayed. "They cannot sing," said their 
 enemies " for birds of prey never do." D' Alembert, Mosheim, &c, 
 
 Upraised the rod of mystic sway 
 
 In distant Ind and Paragua. 
 
 "In the beginning of the 17th century they obtained from the court of 
 Madrid, the grant of the large and fertile Province of Paragua, which 
 stretches across the southern continent of America, from the mountains of 
 Potosi to the banks of the river La Plata ; and after every deduction which 
 can reasonably be made from their own accounts, enough will remain, to 
 excite astonishment and applause of mankind. By wise and humane policy 
 they attracted converts, till at last they formed a powerful and well orga- 
 nized state of 300,000 families. 
 
 Industry was universal, want was unknown. Even the elegant arts began 
 by degrees to appear, and full protection was provided against any inva- 
 sion. An army of 60,000 men was completely armed, and regularly disci- 
 plined, consisting of cavalry, infantry and artillery, and well provided with 
 magazines and munitions of war. It would be in vain to deny that mankind 
 derived advantages from the labors of the Jesuits. Their ardor in impro- 
 ving the healing art, their skill in the instruction of youth and love of an- 
 cient literature, contributed to the progress of polite learning. Even th 
 
 T2 
 
222 NOTES. 
 
 debased species of Christianity which they introduced, was superior to thr 
 bloody rites of the savage." Edinburg Encyclopedia, vol. xi, p. 170. 
 
 Like them he painted face and Up, 
 
 And robed his limbs in skin of beast. STANZA xvi. 
 
 The success of the Jesuits in making converts among the aboriginal pop- 
 ulation of this continent, was owing to a compliance, on their part, with 
 savage customs. France, in extending her empire ui America, was more 
 aided by Jesuitical intrigue than force of arm*. Notwithstanding the 
 friendly relations that existed brt\vr<>n tlio major portion of the Fire Nations 
 and the English, the crafty Jesuits made a diversion in favor of the crown 
 of France, by sending their emissaries among them. " Devida et impera,'" 
 was the French motto. 
 
 Father Joucaire was adopted by the Senecas, and was esteemed by tin 
 Onondagas. He lived among them after their manner, and spoke the Indian 
 language, as Charlevoix informs us, " avec la plus, sublime eloquence Iro- 
 quoise." 
 
 CANTO II. 
 
 .tin! on her bosom brightly shone 
 An amulet of mystic stone. STANZA in. 
 
 "Among a people in the infancy of reflection and improvement, the deities 
 themselves are not so much the objects of attention, as the great changes 
 and revolutions of nature, to which they are conceived to give rise. To 
 avert the calamities which threaten them, is, therefore, the chief concern 
 of the rude tribe's scattered over the American continent. 
 
 In order to effectuate this purpose, they have not recourse, as among na- 
 tions more civilized, to prayers and penance, offerings and victims ; but to 
 charms, amulets, and incantations, which are fancied to have the power of 
 saving them from all events of a disastrous nature." Edinburg Encyclo- 
 pedia, vol. 1, p. 597. 
 
 The shambling elk shrill whistle ^or r . STANZA vn. 
 Dr. Smith says, "the hunters assure us that the elk possesses the power, 
 by strictly closing the nostrils, of forcing the air through these apertures 
 (meaning a slit or depression below the inner angle of each eye Called by 
 French naturalists larmiers,") in such a manner as to make a noise which 
 may be heard at a great distance." This however, is inaccurate ; it is true 
 that the elk, when alarmed, or his attention is strongly excitad, makes a 
 whistling noisr at the moment these lachrymal appendages are opened, and 
 vibrates in a peculiar manner. But having dissected these appendages in 
 an elk, recently dead, we are perfectly assured that there* is no communi- 
 cation between the nostrils of the animal and these sacs." Godman's 
 Natural History, vol. ii, p. 2D8* 
 
 And arrotcs bound by fearful tether 
 The skin of rattlesnake together.^STnt\ XI. 
 
 Many tribes of the continent, particularly the New-England Indians, 
 were in the habit of sending messengers to kindred nations on the eve of 
 

 
 NOTES. 223 
 
 battle with a common enemy, bearing a sheaf of arrows bound together by 
 the skin of the rattlesnake. The rude symbol was an invitation to dig up 
 the hatchet. 
 
 Where the roar of the Upper Falls is heard. STANZA xn. 
 
 " At Portasrovillr, about fifteen miles from the angle at Caneadea, begin 
 the great Portage Falls in this fiver. From the Upper Falls to Mount 
 Morris andSquawkie Hill, a distance of sixteen miles, the river runs through 
 a chasm, the sides of which are the greater part of the distance formed by 
 solid and almost or quite perpendicular walls of rock, from two to four 
 hundred feet high. In some places, however, these walls diverge so far from 
 each other, as to allow spots of excellent alluvial flats to be formed on one 
 side of the river or the other, and in some places on both. 
 
 Immediately above the Upper Falls, there exists all the appearance of a 
 ridge of rock having once run across the river, in which case it would have 
 raised the water some two hundred feet above its present level} and of 
 course formed a lake from one to two miles wide, and extending back over 
 the Caneadea and other flats, to Belvidere, a distance of twenty-eight or 
 thirty miles; but if ever this was the case, the river has centuries ago cut 
 through this ridge and formed considerable rapids where it stood, above and 
 opposite Portageville. The river, after apparently cutting through this 
 ridge, precipitates itself into the chasm below, by a somewhat broken, al- 
 though what would be termed perpendicular fall of sixty feet. The stream 
 at this place is about twelve rods wide, after which it flows through a chasm 
 on a smooth rock bottom. Half a mile below the Upper Falls, the river 
 (where it is about fifteen rods wide) again precipitates itself, in an unbroken 
 sheet, one hundred and ten feet perpendicularly into a deeper channel, 
 forming the "Middle Falls." The magnificence and beauty of these falls is 
 not exceeded by anything in the state, except the cataract of Niagara. 
 
 On the west side of the river at the top of the falls, is a small flat piece of 
 land, or rather rock, which can be approached down a ravine from the west, 
 with any kind of carriage. The stream ptirsues its course in the same di- 
 rection, pent within its rock-bound and precipitous shores, about two miles, 
 where it takes its third and last leap in ths vicinity, of ninety-three feet, 
 into a still deeper chasm ; the greater body of water falling on the eastern 
 side, where a portion of it falls into a kind of hanging rock basin, about 
 one-third of the distance down, and then takes another leap. 
 
 This fall can be approached on the east side by pedestrians with perfect 
 safety. The river then pursues its north-eastern course through its deep 
 and narrow channel to Gardow Flats, about five miles from the lower falls. 
 The banks of the river, or rather the land bordering on the chasm, the 
 greater portion of this distance, is covered with elegant white and Norway 
 pine." Mix. 
 
 The mighty War- God of my race, 
 
 "Ilparoit, madame, que dans ces chansons on invoque le dieu de la 
 guerre, que les Hurons appellant Areskoui et les Iroquois Agreskoue. Je 
 ne sai pas quel nom on lui donne donne dans les langues Algonquines." 
 ''I/ Areskoni des Hurons et 1' Agreskoue des Iroquois est dans 1'opinion de 
 
224 NOTES. 
 
 ces pcuples le souverain etre el le Dieu de la Guerre." Charlevoix, iii. 207 
 344. 
 
 Old Can-ne-hoot and chiefs convene: STANZA xvn. 
 The name of the Indian hero, who figures in the author's poenfTbelongs to 
 the stirring history of the period, though poetical license has been taken 
 in ending his career with the battle; for he- \va- jire-ent :it a general coun- 
 cil of the confederates holden at Onomlagn, in January, 1690, as appears by 
 the following extract from Thatcher. " Cuii-ne-hout, tii hem, 
 
 next proceeded to give the council a p:irtieul:ir account of a treaty made 
 during the summer previous, between his owu tribe and the Wayuuhos." 
 
 Again that startling cry was heard. STANZA xx. 
 
 By mimicking the cry of beast or bird, known to frequent the place from 
 which the sound proceeds, an Indian scout communicates good or evil ti- 
 dings to his tribe ; when a party of warriors stop on their route to lie in 
 ambush for enemies they understand to be out against them, they range 
 themselves cautiously on both sides the expected path, frequently in a half 
 moon line, and as far apart as they can hear the travelling signal from each 
 other, which is either a low whistle, or cry of some wild creature of the 
 woods imitated with surprising accuracy. See Adair and Charlevoix. 
 
 Tall orchards near the river-shore, 
 Tie germs of bright abundance bore. STANZA xxn. 
 The remains of an extensive Indian orchard may still be seen on the wes- 
 tern bank of the Genesee. The wind-bowed and mossy trunks have a de- 
 solate appearance, as if they shared in the miseries of the race who planted 
 them. The early settlers of Avon, discovered peach-trees growing in the 
 forest on the site of an old cornfield of ihc Indians, the fruit of which was 
 of good flavor. 
 
 A rugged structure lotc and long. STANZA xxm. 
 
 A tow years since, the council house at Cannewaugus, was standing. 
 When la-t vi.-ited by the author, it was in a state of decay the roof, over- 
 laid with bark, was falling in, and the storm had partly beaten down the 
 walls. The building was low and about sixty feet in length. In the centre 
 of the roof, which was bark bent to a rounded form over the ridge pole, was 
 an open place for the escape of smoke when the elders of the tribe were 
 convened in grave deliberation. The confederation of the Iroquois, stretch- 
 ing from the Hudson to Lake Erie, was often compared by their orators to 
 a council house. In the speech of condolence, addressed by the Mohawk 
 chiefs to the inhabitants of Albany, after the destruction of Schenectady, 
 the perfidy of the French is thus portrayed. " Brethren, we do not think 
 that what the French have done can be called a victory : it is only a farther 
 proof of their cruel deceit : the Governor of Canada sent to Onoudaga, and 
 talks to us of peace with our whole house ; but war was in his heart, as you 
 now see by woful experience. He did the same, formerly at Cadaracqui, and 
 in the Seneca's country. This is the third time he has acted so deceitfully 
 
NOTES. 225 
 
 He has broken open our house at both ends; formerly in the Senecas' coun- 
 try, and now here. We hope, however, to be revenged of them." 
 
 The chichikon,full loudly blown, 
 
 Gave out lugubrious monotone. 
 
 The chichikon is formed of a thick cane upwards of two feet in length, 
 with eight or nine holes, and a mouth-piece not unlike that of a common 
 whistle. 
 
 From some, on crimson hoop extended. STANZA xxvr. 
 Scalps preserved as trophies of victory, were cured, hooped and painted 
 by the Indians with marks on the flesh side expressive of the age and sex 
 of the slain. Jn the letter of James Crawford to Col. Haldlman, Governor 
 of Canada, appended to Stone's Life of Brant, is a description of eight 
 packages of scalps taken by the Seneca Indians from the inhabitants of 
 New- York. To denote scalps taken from farmers killed in their houses, 
 the skin was painted brown and marked with a hoe a black circle signi- 
 fied that they were surprised in the night, and a black hatchet in the mid- 
 dle that they were killed with that weapon. The hair on the scalps of the 
 women was braided in the Indian fashion, to show that they were mothers. 
 The hoops were blue, skin yellow ground, with little red tadpoles, to rep- 
 resent, by way of triumph, the tears of grief occasioned to their relations. 
 Seventeen gray-haired scalps were stretched on black hoops of brown color, 
 with no mark but the short club or cassetete, to show they were knocked 
 down dead, or had their brains beaten out ! 
 
 For daggers wrought of flint and bone, 
 With fell intent were round him bared. STANZA xxvnr. 
 The ancient dagger of the Senecas was an implement, shaped, with great 
 labor, from bone and flint. The author is in possession of one made of 
 the latter material, tne blade of which, after swelling In ine middle, tapers 
 to a rugged point. Bone daggers have been found in Lima, Livingston 
 County, by citizens while working on the highway, shaped with elegance, 
 and elaborately polished. 
 
 CANTO III. 
 
 Wake, children of Ge-nun-de-wah ! 
 
 The tradition of the Seneca Indians, in regard to their birth, is that they 
 broke out of the earth from a large mountain at the head of Canandaigua 
 Lake, and that mountain they still venerate as the place of their birth ; 
 thence they derive their name, " Ge-nun-de-wah," or Great Hill, and are 
 called "The Great Hill People," which is the true definition of the word 
 Seneca. The great hill at the head of Canandaigua Lake from whence they 
 sprung, is called Ge-nun-de-wah, and has for a long time past been the 
 place where the Indians of that nation met in council, to hold great talks, 
 and to offer up prayers to the Great Spirit, on account of its having been 
 their birth-place ; and also in consequence of the destruction of a serpent 
 
NOTES. 
 
 at that place in ancient lime, in a most miraculous manner, which threat- 
 ened the whole of the Senecas, and barely spared enough to commence 
 replenishing the earth. The Indians say that the Fort on the Big Hill or 
 Ge-nun-de-wah, near the head of Canandaigua Lake, was surrounded by a 
 monstrous serpent, whose head and tail came together at the gate. A long 
 time it lay there, confounding the people with its breath. At length they 
 attempted to make their escape, some with their homminy-blocks, and oth- 
 ers with different implements of household furniture ; and in marching out 
 of the Fort, walked down the throat of the serpent. Two orphan children, 
 who had escaped this general destruction by being left some time before on 
 the outside of the Fort, were informed by an oracle, of the means by which 
 they could get rid of their formidable enemy ; which was, to take a small 
 bow and a poisoned arrow, made of a kind of willow, and wifc that shoot x 
 the serpent under its scales. This they did, and the arrow proved effectual ; 
 for on its penetrating the skin, the serpent became sick, and, extending 
 itself, rolled down the hill, destroying all the timber that was in its way. 
 At every motion a human head was discharged, and rolled down the hill 
 into the lake, where they lie at this day In a petrified state, having the hard- 
 ness and appearance of stones; and the pagan Indians of the Senecas be- 
 lieve that all the little snakes were made of the blood of the great serpent 
 after it rolled into the lake. To this day tho Indians visit that sacred place 
 to mourn the loss of their friends, and to celebrate some rites that are pe- 
 culiar to themselves. To the knowledge of white people there has been no 
 timber on the Great Hill since it was first discovered by them, though it lay 
 apparently in a state of nature for a great number of years, without culti- 
 vation. Stones in the shape of Indians' heads may be seen lying in the 
 lake in great plenty, which are said to be the same that were deposited 
 there at the death of the serpent." Life of Mary Jemison. 
 Some, from long pipe* of purple stain, 
 
 ill-tint of battle, smoked. STANZA in. 
 
 ' Th' % calumet and all its ornaments, when they treat of war, are painted 
 red. Tho size of tin- pipe and the degree of decoration correspond to the 
 importance of the occasion. " Indian Wars. When war is contemplated , 
 the tomahawk is also colored with red. 
 
 On bosoms bare the figure* rude 
 Of wolf and turtle were tattoo" d. STANZA iv. 
 
 Each Indian nation has a distinct ensign, generally consisting of some 
 beast, bird or fish ; and the pictures of these animals are pricked or pain- 
 ted on the arms or breast. The known mark of a tribe or chief on the per- 
 son of a captive, is a protection from danger at other hands. Brant, at the 
 destruction of Cherry Valley, saved a woman and her children by painting 
 his cognizance upon them. See Stone's Life of Brant. " Each of the Five 
 Nations is divided into three families of different ranks, bearing for their 
 arms, and being distinguished hy the names of the tortoise, the bear and 
 the wolf." SMITH. "Sometimes the design of a military expedition is 
 painted on the naked trunk of a tree. By a deer, a fox or some other em- 
 blems, we discover against what nation they are gone out" SMITH. 
 
NOTES. 227 
 
 He swears like them no fear to know 
 When stake-bound by exulting /oe.^BxANZA V. 
 
 " It is the first and the last study of the American Indians, to acquire the 
 faculty of suffering with an obstinate and heroic courage when their forti- 
 tude is put to the proof. They harden their fibres by repeated trials, and 
 accustom themselves to endure the most tormenting pain without a groan 
 or a tear. In the northern division of the Continent, a boy and a girl will 
 put a flaming coal between their naked arms, and vie with another in main- 
 taining it in its place. (CHARLEVOIX in. 307.) "Forbear," said an aged 
 chief of the Iroquois to the French Indians, " forbear these stabs of your 
 knife ; and rather let me die by fire, that those dogs, your allies, may learn, 
 by my example, to suffer like men." 
 
 His arm, with grace unstudied, raised. STANZA vi. 
 " Their speakers deliver themselves with surprising force, and great pro- 
 priety of gesture. The fierceness of their countenances, the flowing blan- 
 ket, elevated tone, naked arm and erect stature, with a half circle of audi- 
 tors seated on the ground, and in the open air, cannot but impress upon the 
 mind a lively idea of the ancient orators of Greece and Rome." SMITH. 
 
 The prowling Eries of the Lake. STANZA vir. 
 
 The career of victory which began with the fall of the Adirondack s, was 
 destined to be extended beyond all precedent in the history of the Indian 
 tribes. They (the Iroquois) exterminated the Eries or Erigas, once living 
 on the south side of the lake of their own name. They nearly destroyed 
 the powerful Anderstez, and the Chouanons or Showanons. They drove 
 back the Hurons and Ottawas among the Sioux of the Upper Mississippi, 
 where they separated themselves into bands, " proclaiming, wherever they 
 went, the terror of the Iroquois." HKRRICK. 
 
 And a slow dance, with measured tread, 
 Around the painted war-post led. STANZA xr. 
 
 " When war is the result of their deliberations, a chief marches round in 
 a circle, inviting those who are for war to join in the circuitous march, 
 while a war-song serves to rouse their patriotic zeal to the highest pitch, till 
 the whole assembly, kindling into the same ardor, becomes impatient to be 
 led against the enemy." The following list of the dances in use among the 
 North American Indians, has been given by Mr. Long : 
 
 1. The Calumet Dance. 6. The Dead Dance. 
 
 2. The War Dance, 7. The Prisoner's Dunee, 
 
 3. The Chief's Dance, 8. The Return Dance, 
 
 4. The Set out Dance, 9. The Spear Dance, 
 
 5. The Scalp Dance, 10. The Marriage Dance, 
 
 11. The Sacrifice Dance. 
 
 Of these, the war dance is the most remarkable, and is frequently com- 
 posed of several of the other dances. It is the exact image of an Indian 
 campaign. It represents the departure of their warriors, their arrival at the 
 confines of the hostile nation, their method of encampment, the attack, fho 
 
228 NOTES. 
 
 scalping of such as fall into their hands, the return of the victorious tribe, 
 and the tortures and heqpsm of the prisoners. In performing these parts, 
 the savages exhibit a wonderful dexterity ; and enter into them with such 
 enthusiasm, that European spectators have forgotten for a moment that it 
 was only a representation, and have shuddered at the imaginary scene. See 
 Lafitan, Charlevoix 5. 
 
 With our totem erased by the knife. STANZA xn. 
 
 For cowardice in battle, an Indian is condemned to lose his totem, a pun- 
 ishment more to be dreaded than a lingering torture at the stake, be depri- 
 ved of his name, and live a drudge in the lodge of some warrior, clad in the 
 petticoat of a squaw. 
 
 While scalps on red pole by the bravest are borne. 
 
 In returning from a successful expedition, the bravest warrior of the band 
 bears the scalps, stretched over hoops, and elevated upon a long red pole. 
 See Life of Mary Jamison, p. 39. 
 
 On-ffui-hon-wi unite in one legion of dread. 
 
 'And they were, indeed, at all times ready (the Iroquois) and wilting to 
 cherish the sentiment of exaltation whjch they felt : they called themselves 
 " On-qui-hori'tri," that is, men surpassing all others CLINTON. 
 
 In view arose a gloomy square. STANZA xviii. 
 
 " Whenever a considerable number of huts are collected, they have a 
 castle, as it is called, consisting of a square without bastions, surrounded 
 with palisadoes. They have no other fortification ; and this is only de- 
 signed as an asylum for their old men, their wives and children, while the 
 rest are gone out to war." Smith. 
 
 The wealth of that enchanted isle, 
 Chased rainly on the waters blue. STANZA xnt. 
 
 "They further say that these hunters had a view of the settlements of 
 this peculiar Indian race, whose women are incomparably beautiful, situa- 
 ted on the banks of an island, a terrestrial paradise, in a beautiful lake ; but 
 that in their endeavors to approach it, they were in perpetual labyrinths, 
 ami, like enchanled land, still as they imagined they had first gained it, it 
 se.-med i" lly b-'fure them, alternately appearing and disappearing.'" Bar- 
 . < Travels. 
 
 Long as that martial lock of hair 
 Streams like a flag in troubled air. STANZA XX. 
 
 The same chivalrous principle of action that prompts the civilized soldier 
 to preserve the colors of his regiment from the disgrace of capture, incites 
 direst warrior, though faint with a deaih-wound, to preserve his 
 scalp from drying in the lodge of an enemy. This trait of Indian character 
 is well illustrated by the personal combat, in Cooper's Prairie, between 
 Mahtoree and Hard Heart. The latter having received a mortal wound, 
 with a last effort plunges into the stream, hoping vainly that the tide would 
 rob his Pawnee foe of the trophy that he so much craved. 
 
NOTES. 229 
 
 May Utco bear to realms of night. STANZA xxm. 
 The author's mother, who speaks the Seneca fluently, informed him that 
 by using the term Utco, the Indian referred to the diabolical power from 
 which witches and wizards derive their spirit of mischief. This Great 
 Doer of Evil dwells in an abode of darkness, and controls a countless num- 
 ber of subordinate ministers of ill who must daily perform their allotted 
 tasks some sowing the seeds of disease and death, while others bring 
 blight to the corn-field, scare the deer, and derange the hunter's aim. 
 
 CANTO IV. 
 
 Romans of the West ! 
 
 The Iroquois bore this proud appellation, not only by conquest over other 
 tribes, but by encouraging the people of other nations to incorporate with 
 them ; " a Roman principle," says Thatcher, " recognized in the practice 
 as well as theory of these lords of the forest." 
 
 While well the hindmost of the line 
 From view concealed betraying sign. STANZA V. 
 
 The wonderful sagacity of the North American savage on a march, or 
 pursuit of foe through a forest, is too well known to require much com- 
 ment. On emergency, they put the hinder part of their snow shoes for- 
 ward, so that if their footsteps should happen to be observed by a vigilant 
 enemy, it might be supposed they had taken a contrary direction. " Some- 
 times they fix the broad hoofs of buffaloes or bears' paws upon their feet, to 
 deceive the foe ; and for miles together, they will make all the customary 
 windings of those animals in the woods. The warrior who brings up the 
 rear, lifts to a natural position the broad grass, and ' they march, one man 
 behind the other, treading carefully in each other's steps, so that their num- 
 ber may not be ascertained by the prints of their feet.' " HBCKEWELDER. 
 
 Where light pirogues of whitewood lay, 
 
 Fashioned and hollowed out alone 
 
 By eating fire and gouge of stone. 
 
 Their canoes were of two kinds : one was made of a large log excavated 
 the inside burned and wrought by a stone gouge, and the outside shaped by 
 their stone axe. The second kind was made of birchen bark. " The pi- 
 rogues or war canoes of the Indians are constructed by hollowing the 
 trunks of large trees with much labor and patience ; and, notwithstanding 
 their bulk and gravity, they are moved dexterously through the water. The 
 pirogue is often large enough to contain fifty persons ; and in most instan- 
 ces, the workmanship is so neat, and the ornaments so splendid, as to be 
 thought utterly beyond the execution of savages ignorant of the harder me- 
 tals. The trunk of a tree which they have cut down, and which they design 
 to form into a canoe, often begins to rot before their labor is at an end. 
 Their chisel was of stone, sharpened to an edge. Ignorant of iron, their 
 hatchets and axes were made of stone. Their use dictated a similar shape 
 U 
 
230 NOTES. 
 
 to ours. A young sapling was split near the ground, the head of the axe 
 thrust into it, and a handle formed with inconsiderable labor. See Gumilla, 
 Lafitan, Mceurs ii. 213, ajid Indian Wars. 
 
 His favorite hound, of courage tried. 
 And weapons buried by his side. STANZA x. 
 
 "They bury with the dead, food, bows and arrows, pipes and whatsoever 
 pleased them while living, or might be necessary in the country of souls. 
 They believe in the immortality of the soul, without the aid of metaphysics. 
 The Chicung, the shadow, that which survives the body, they grossly ima- 
 gine, will, at death, go into some unknown but curious place." Indian Wars. 
 They give the first place in the land of spirits to the courageous warrior 
 who has put to death the greatest number of his enemies, and to the hun. 
 ter who has distinguished himself the most in the exertions of the chase ; 
 and it is their practice to bury the hatchet and the bow of a leader in the 
 game grave with his body, that he may not be destitute of arms when he 
 enters upon the future world. They likewise deposit in his tomb the skins 
 and stuffs of which then- garments are made, corn, venison, drugs, utensils 
 and animals of different kinds, and whatever else they hold to be necessary 
 or convenient in their simple estimate of life." De La Potherie and Col- 
 den, Five Nations, i. 17. 
 
 "The Omaha Chief, Black-bird, after death, was placed erect on his war- 
 horae, and, followed by the braves he had often led to battle, conveyed to 
 his sepulchre on a high bluff overlooking the Missouri. The horse, alive, 
 was forced into the grave with his dead rider, and thus inhumed." Appen- 
 dix to the Gazetteer of Missouri. 
 
 Some tribes erect a scaffold, by planting four large stakes in the ground, 
 eight feet high, and five by three apart, across the tops of which are laid 
 poles, on which the bark coffin, enclosing the body, rests. A correspond- 
 ent of the New-Yorker thus alludes to a scaffold of this description. " A 
 few years since, a sarcophagus was erected on the west bank of Rock Ri- 
 ver, about two miles below the junction of the Pecatonic, wherein was laid 
 an Indian girl. It remained till about a year since, when decay and the 
 winds swept it away, and left nothing but the stakes on which it was reared, 
 which are yet standing." 
 
 With war-club thickly notched, that told 
 Hov> mighty were the men of old. STANZA xni. 
 
 The Indian warrior cuts scalp-notches upon the handle of his hatchet, 
 significant of the number of enemies that he has slain. " In order to com- 
 memorate great events and preserve the chronology of them, the war-chief 
 in each tribe keeps a war-post This post is a peeled stick of timber, ten 
 or twelve feet high, that is erected in the town. For a campaign, they make, 
 or rather the chief makes, a perpendicular red mark, about three inches 
 long and half an inch wide ; on the opposite side of this, for a scalp, they 
 make a red cross, thus t ; on another side, for a prisoner taken alive, they 
 make a red cross, in this manner, , with a head or dot j and by placing 
 uch significant hieroglyphics in so conspicuous a situation, they are ena- 
 
NOTES. 231 
 
 bled to ascertain, with great certainty, the time and circumstances of past 
 events. Hiokatoo had a war-post on which were recorded his military ex- 
 ploits, and other things that he thought worth preserving." Life of Mary 
 Jemison. 
 
 And the lone muckawiss was heard, 
 That solemn and prophetic bird. STANZA. XV. 
 
 The Indian name for the whippowil, says Carver, is "muckawiss." 
 "As soon as night comes on, these birds will place themselves on the fen- 
 ces, stumps or stones that lie near some house, and repeat their melan- 
 choly notes, without any variation, till midnight. The Indians and some of 
 the inhabitants of the back settlements think if this bird perches upon any 
 house, that it betokens some mishap to the inhabitants of it." CARVER. 
 
 The march in long and ordered line. STANZA xvni. 
 " They march in a line of individual warriors, and preserve a dead 
 silence." Some of the Indian nations resemble the Tartars in the con- 
 struction of their canoes, implements of war and the chase, with the well- 
 known habit of marching in Indian file." Priest's Amer. Antiq. 
 
 Mickinac sate on a fallen tree, 
 And of savory nokehike partook. STANZA xxx. 
 
 " We retain some Indian modes of cookery. Their green corn, when 
 either roasted or boiled, is excellent. Their hommony consists of corn 
 bruised and soaked or boiled. Their nokehike is parched corn pounded. 
 Suckatash, a mixture of green corn and beans, is become a very common 
 dish. Upaquontop is the head of a bass boiled, and the broth thickened 
 with hommony, which is one of their richest delicacies." Indian Wars. 
 
 Go home, and look for Mickinac ? STANZA XXXI. 
 
 "The first principle which is instilled into the breast of a savage, is re- 
 venge. Time cannot efface the remembrance of an injury ; it is cherished 
 and kept alive with the most studious care ; like the hereditary feuds of 
 Scottish clans, it even goes down from one generation to another, with all 
 its associated feelings, and with these feelings in all their exercise. The 
 blood of the offender can alone expiate the transgression. If the domain 
 appropriated to hunting be invaded, or if an individual of a tribe be cut off", 
 the desire of vengeance swells in every breast with instinctive emotion, and 
 instantly kindles into rage. It sparkles in every eye, and gives activity to 
 every limb. Months and years roll away, and the purpose of vengeance 
 continues deep in the heart, and it shows itself in tremendous execution 
 when it is least expected or feared. The Indian fights, not less to satiate his 
 revenge, than to conquer his enemies ; and that destructive passion is not 
 gratified till he has glutted himself with the blood of the hostile tribe, and 
 rejoiced in the extinction of its name. Even the women seem to be anima- 
 ted with this destructive and restless principle." Edinburg Encyclopedia, 
 vol. i. p. 591. 
 
 And a low, mournful death- hymn sang. 
 
232 NOTES. 
 
 CANTO V. 
 
 On the creek's bottom then he strode. STANZA VI. 
 
 When opportunity offers, on a retreat, the Indian warrior walks in the 
 bed of streams, for he well knows that a savage enemy npon his trail will 
 pursue the traces of man and beast, by observing with aculeness the dispo- 
 sition of the grass and leaves. " Some of the French missionaries have 
 supposed that the Indians are guided by instinct, and have pretended that 
 Lidian children can find their way through a forest as easily as a person 
 of mature years ; but this is a most absurd notion. It is unquestionably by 
 a close attention to the growth of the trees and position of the sun, that 
 they find their way. OnHhe northern side of a tree there is generally the 
 most moss ; and the bark on that side, in general, differs from that on the 
 opposite one. The branches toward the south are, for the most part, more 
 luxuriant than those on the other sides of trees ; and several other distinc- 
 tions subsist between the northern and southern sides, conspicuous to Indi- 
 ans, being taught from their infancy to attend to them, which a common 
 observer would, perhaps, never notice. Being accustomed from their in- 
 fancy, likewise, to pay great attention to the position of the sun, they learn 
 to make the most accurate allowance for its apparent motion from one part 
 of the heavens to another ; and in every hour of the day, they will point to 
 the part of the heavens where it is, although the sky be obscured by clouds 
 or mists." WBLD. 
 
 A hill once strongly fortified, 
 Down sloping to the toater-ftJe. -STANZA vm. 
 
 The hill referred to in the text, is situated on the banks of the Conesus 
 Creek, and is railed "Fort Hill" by the inhabitants. The first settlers of 
 the country say that it was an open place in the heart of the forest, with 
 trench, mound and gateway plainly visible. The sloping sides of the hill 
 are filled with human bones that lie white and undecayed in loose yellow 
 sand. Implements of quaint form, and ornaments in the shape of squares 
 and half moons, marked with hieroglyphics, also an urn -like vessel, were 
 found, after a severe tempest, in a deep hollow, made by the uprooting of an 
 oak. Skulls have been disinterred near by, of sufficient size to encase the 
 head of a full-grown man, and must have belonged to a race of larger pro- 
 portions even, than the gigantic Indians of Patagonia. In company with 
 his friend Mr. Harry Thomson, who takes a deep interest in the subject of 
 Indian antiquities, the author visited this site of an ancient fortification, after 
 the plough had passed over it, and succeeded in finding many curious 
 beads, some formed from the horns of deer, fragments of pottery and pipes, 
 on the bowls of which the heads of fox, frog and wolf were ingeniously 
 carved. 
 
 And on a tongue of land arrived, 
 Outstretching far into the mere, 
 An emerald set in crystal clear. STANZA xn. 
 
 There is a favorite place of resort for pic-nic parties, called Long Point, 
 that stretches out into the silvery Conesus, a few miles from Lakeville. 
 
NOTES. 233 
 
 It is covered with oaks of stately growth, and in their shade rustic benches 
 and tables have been erected for the accommodation of visiters. All lovers 
 of the romantic owe a debt of gratitude to the tasteful proprietor, the vene- 
 rable James \Vadsworth, Esquire, for preserving this natural park from the 
 desecrating axe. 
 
 Aboriginal remains, well worthy of minute examination, may be seen 
 near the lake beach. The face of the ground has evidently been altered 
 by the hand of art; and timber, in a remarkable state of preservation, has 
 been discovered, four or five feet below the surface, in places where the 
 loose soil of the bank has crumbled away. The blue hills in the distance, 
 partly clothed with the primitive forest the waters kissing the shore with 
 an undertone of melody the plunge of fish and flap of waterfowl the 
 pleasant murmur of the wind-swept trees mingling with the carol of sinless 
 birds, are ministers of repose and pleasure to a mind that has been woun- 
 ded by the "briers of this work-day world." It is a bright, sequestered 
 spot, and the fabling fancy of Greece peopled haunts less picturesque, with 
 Happy Spirits a green retreat where the retired poet could wear out life, 
 and which the wayfarer passes by with reluctance, thro ugh fear his eye will 
 never rest again on sight so beautiful. 
 
 Who from foul shame an Indian spared. STANZA XV. 
 The Indian never forgets the individual who befriends him. Gratitude is 
 as deeply rooted in bis breast, as the remembrance of a wrong. In the 
 language of Judge Story, " if he had the vices of savage life, he had the 
 virtues also. He was true to his country, his friends and his home. If he 
 forgave not injury, neither did he forget kindness. If his vengeance was 
 terrible, his fidelity and generosity were unconquerable also. His love, likt 
 his hate, stopped not on this side of the grave." 
 
 When shrieked the solitary Zoon.- STANZA xvi. 
 
 The loon, or great northern diver" L'imbrim ou grand plongeon de la 
 mer de nord de Buffon," is regarded, in some parts of the country, as a bird 
 of ill omen. The loon is said to be restless before a storm; and an experi- 
 enced master of a coasting vessel informs me, that he always knew when a 
 tempest was approaching, by the cry of this bird, which is very shrill, and 
 may be heard the distance of a mile or more. Wilson's Ornithology. 
 
 An instant flashed the knife on high. STANZA xxv. 
 
 Lest the reader might think probability violated by making Wun-nut-hay 
 the stern author of a bloody deed, the following extract from an article on 
 the North American Indians, to be found in vol. I. of the Edinburg Encyclo- 
 pedia, is introduced : 
 
 " The Algonquins being at war with thelroquois, a woman of the former 
 nation happened to be made prisoner, and was carried to one of the villa- 
 ges belonging to the latter. Here she was stripped naked ; and her hands 
 and feet were bound with ropes in one of their cabins. In this condition 
 he remained for ten days, the savages sleeping around her every night. 
 On the eleventh night, when they were asleep, she found means to disengage 
 
234 NOTES. 
 
 one of her bands ; and freeing herself from the ropes, she went immediately 
 to the door of the hut where she was lodged. Though she had now an op- 
 portunity of escaping unperceived, her revengeful temper could not let 
 slip so favorable an opportunity of killing one of her enemies. The attempt 
 wa manifestly at the hazard of her own life ; yet, seizing a hatchet, she 
 plunged it into the head of a savage who lay next her, and fled." 
 
 Weary with flight, her agile form 
 Against a hemlock stem she leaned. STANZA xxx. 
 
 When fatigued with the toils of the chase, or requiring rest on a perilous 
 march, the red man goes on his way refreshed after a brief sleep with his 
 back to a tree, in a leaning posture. " For several successive nights the 
 warrior did not sleep, only when he reclined, as usual, a little before day, 
 with his back to a tree." Adair's General Observations on the American 
 Indians. 
 
 By vapory phantoms of the dead. 
 
 The Indians religiously believe, that their old burial places and battle- 
 fields are visited nightly by the stalking ghosts of the dead ; also that the 
 footsteps of the murderer are dogged by the restless shadow of the slain. 
 " Friends," said the tall chief to his blood-stained tribesmen, " you have 
 killed an Indian in a time of peace, and made the wind hear his groans, and 
 the earth drink his blood. You are bad Indians ! Yes, you are very bad 
 Indians ; and what can you do ? If you go into the woods to live alone, the 
 ghost of John Jemison will follow you, crying, blood ! blood ! and will give 
 you no peace! If you go to the land of your nation, there the ghost will 
 attend you, and say to your relatives, See my murderers ! If you plant, it 
 will blast your corn ; if you hunt, it will scare your game ; and when you 
 arc asleep, its groans and the sight of an avenging tomahawk will awake 
 you I" On the banks of the bright trout stream that flows through the farm 
 of John McKay, Esquire, at Caledonia, was a "place of torture," called 
 " Gan-ee-a-di" in the Seneca dialect. The Indians have a tradition that 
 groans proceed from this memorable spot, at midnight, and that ghastly 
 shapes peering through the leaves, have often frightened the belated hunter. 
 
 I was informed by Captain Jones, that the wild glen at Fall Brook, near 
 Geneseo, has been the scene of a tragic story, and that the place is haun- 
 ted, after nightfall, by a frightful, headless spectre. The Indians believe 
 that it is a spot accursed ; but the tourist looks with delight upon a scene 
 where beauty contends for mastery with the sublime. 
 
 CANTO VI. 
 
 Stained like the brush and leaves around them. STANZA IV. 
 They paint their bodies of the same color with the leaves and brush, and 
 lie close to the ground all day." 
 
NOTES. 235 
 
 Like figures carved from granite gray. STANZA V. 
 The savage of America, when lying in ambush, endures the pangs of hun- 
 ger and thirst without complaint or motion. "His eyes like those of the 
 Argus, see every thing, his ears hear every sound, and all his senses em- 
 ployed show that his soul is as active as his body is passive." Indian 
 Wars. 
 
 Taught by the Jesuit to pray, 
 With hand imbrued in human gore. STANZA VI. 
 
 " The French priests boast indeed of their converts, but they have made 
 more proselytes to politics than religion." Smith's History of N. Y. p. 76. 
 " To their former motives were now added, not only a thirst for revenge, 
 but also an enthusiastic frenzy inspired from the Romish religion. The 
 French priests even went witli the savages, as greater barbarians, to say 
 mass amidst the holy work of massacre." Indian Wars. 
 
 Of proven valor was the chief. STANZA vm. 
 
 " The Marquis De Nonville was distinguished as a brave and active offi- 
 cer." Murray's British America, vol. i. p. 183, 
 
 Well might their general declare 
 Eye never looked on vale more fair.. STANZA xm. 
 
 The valley of the Genesee, though romantic and wild at and around the 
 Upper Falls, is more remarkable for the quiet beauty of its landscape than 
 for startling sublimity. " The alluvial flats through which the river mean- 
 ders, are from one to two miles in width, as level as a placid lake, and as 
 fertile, to say the least, as any land in this state. Thousands of acres of 
 these flats were cleared of their timber when Indian tradition, commences 
 their description. These flats are encompassed on each side by a rolling 
 country gradually rising as it recedes from the river, but. in no place so 
 abrupt as to merit the cognomen of a hill. This was the terrestrial para- 
 dise of the Senecas, and to this tract they gave the name of Gen-ish-a-u, 
 Chen-ne-se-co, Gen-ne-se-o or Gen-ne-see, as pronounced by the different 
 Indian Tribes, and being interpreted, all meaning substantially the samCj 
 to wit : shining, clear opening pleasant, clear opening elear valley, or 
 pleasant open valley." 
 
 Oft would some scout thick top of tree 
 His screened observatory make. STANZA XV. 
 
 "Their grand object, however, is to surprise a village, and, if possible, the 
 principal one belonging to the hated tribe. Thither all their steps tend, as 
 they steal like silent ghosts through the lonely forest. On approaching it, 
 they cast hasty glances from the tops of trees, or hillocks, and then retreat 
 into the thickest covert." MURRAY. 
 
 The pictured outlines of a man 
 
 Transfixed by dart, by hatchet cleft. STANZA xviil. 
 By a few rude images on the bark of trees, they communicate to others 
 whatsoever intelligence they deem important. "There are some Indian 
 
236 NOTES. 
 
 Gazettes. On a tree in Moultonboro' is carved a history of on of their 
 expeditions. The number of the killed and captivated were represented by 
 so many human figures. The stroke of a knife across the throat designated 
 the killed. Even the sexes had some intelligible mark of distinction. 
 
 They use many ingenious expedients to communicate their ideas to their 
 absent friends. By erecting a pole and marking its shadow on the sand, or 
 pointing it so as to cast no shadow, they are able to inform their followers, 
 at what time of the day they were in such a place, and by lopping down a 
 few bushes they clearly intimate which way they are gone." 
 
 " In Kcllyvale, is yet to be seen something like an attempt to painting. 
 The bark of a large tree is stripped off as high as a man can reach ; with a 
 Btainof a lively color, an Indian with a gun is painted, with his face towards 
 the north. Beside him, is a representation of a skeleton sketched with a con- 
 siderable degree of anatomical exactness. The whole is a kind of gazette, 
 in which the Indian informs his company which was to follow him, that one 
 of their number was dead, and that the survivor was proceeding with safety 
 on his way to Canada." Indian Wars. 
 
 The ponderous war-club's weighty stroke, 
 Clubbed gun-stocks into pieces broke. STANZA xxm. 
 Thir weapons of war are very few. Their war-club was formed out of 
 a root, or limb of a tree, made into a convenient shape, with a knot at one 
 end, of use in case of close engagement with an enemy. A stake hardened 
 in the fire at one end, was used as a sort of spontoon, useful in destroying an 
 enemy, or keeping him at a little distance. Their lance was pointed with 
 a flint or a bone. A war-club was sometimes used, with a blade like the 
 (pear of a lance inserted in the side near the upper end of it. Col. Stone, 
 in his life of Brant, alludes to one with marks on its handle denoting the 
 number of persons killed, and scalps taken by the means of it. 
 
 Warned by a runner of his band 
 That Yonnondio was at hand. STANZA xxxm. 
 
 "Their orator came forward and addressed the Governor General by the 
 title of Ononthio (or Yonnondio,) which, in their language, signifies great 
 mountain; and though it was in reference to his name of Montmagny, they 
 continued ever after to apply this term to the French viceroy. They often 
 added the respectful appellation of Father." Murray's British America, 
 vol. i. p. 166. 
 
 Dark fingers in his hair enicreathcd, 
 
 Secured by aid of teeth and knife, 
 
 Grim, reddened trophies of the strife. STANZA XXXV. 
 Placing a foot on the neck of his fallen enemy, and twisting a hand in the 
 hair, the warrior draws a long, sharp-pointed knife, specially formed 
 for this operation ; then cutting a circle around the crown of the head, by 
 a few skilful scoops, sometimes aided by the teeth, the hair and skin are de- 
 tached. See Charlevoix, Rogers' Concise Account and Adair. 
 
NOTES. 237 
 
 Reserved for torture at the stake, 
 
 By tribesmen filed with rage and grief, 
 That glad the wandering ghost would make 
 
 Of Can-ne-hoot their fallen chief. STANZA XL. 
 
 In the dreadful work of torture the women take the lead, and seem trans- 
 formed into raging furies. She, to glut whose vengeance the doom has been 
 specially pronounced, invokes the spirit of her husband, her brother, or 
 her son, who has fallen in battle, or died amid torture, bidding him come 
 now and be appeased. 
 
 CANTO VII. 
 
 Thickly the Senecas overspread, 
 
 With hiding brush and leaves, their dead. STANZA I. 
 It is a custom with Indian warriors to conceal their losses from the enemy. 
 They exert themselves to the utmost to prevent their slain from falling into 
 hostile hands. Even while the battle is raging, old Indian fighters have 
 seen 
 
 " Figures of men that crouch and creep unheard, 
 And bear away the dead." 
 
 While rose from forest edge a cry, 
 
 Now plaintive low now shrill and high, STANZA III. 
 
 At the close of the expedition, the warriors repair to their village, and, in 
 approaching, announce its results by various signals well understood among 
 their families. According to the most approved custom, the evil tidings are 
 first communicated. A herald advances before the troop, and for every 
 kinsman who has fallen, sounds the death-whoop, a shrill, lengthened note, 
 ending in an elevated key. 
 
 An interval is then allowed, during which the burst of grief excited by 
 their tidings, may be in some degree exhausted. Then rises the loud, qua- 
 vering sound of the war-whoop, whick by its successive repetitions ex- 
 pressed the number of captives brought home as the fruits of victory. 
 
 The barbarous joy thus kindled, banishes for the moment all trace of 
 lamentation. See Adair, Charlevoix. 
 
 "There was no prisoner put to the torture, or attired in the raven death- 
 cap on this occasion, but the prisoners were paraded, and the scalps borne 
 in the procession, as would have been the standard taken in civilized war- 
 fare in the celebration of a triumph. For every scalp and for every prisoner 
 taken, the scalp-yell, or as it is sometimes called the " death halloo," was 
 raised in all its mingled tones of triumph and terror." Stone's Life of 
 Brant. 
 
 The imitative powers of the red man almost exceed belief. On one occa- 
 sion, says Champlain, they constructed a wooden enclosure of a triangular 
 form, each side nearly a mile long, with a narrow opening at the point, into 
 which, by loud cries, and imitating the howling of wolves, they contrived to 
 drive all the deer in the vicinity. 
 
238 NOTES. 
 
 For lord had Can-ne-wau-gvs lost. STANZA V. 
 
 In the Seneca dialect, the word Cannewaugus means "stinking water." 
 It was the aboriginal name of the far-famed Avon Springs, the medical pro- 
 perties of which have been found unsurpassed in the cure of various diseases. 
 On the east side of the Genesee, near the old site of Cannewaugus, the plea- 
 sant village of West Avon crowns an elevated ridge of land, environed by 
 romantic scenery, and overlooking the river's green and quiet valley. 
 
 He calls upon yon captive pale, 
 The briers from his path to clear. STANZA vni. 
 
 The relatives of a fallen warrior often demand of their tribe the imme- 
 diate execution of a captive, to appease his troubled ghost, and clear away 
 the briers, for his safe passage to the hunting-grounds of the happy. 
 
 Tormentors drew his foot upon 
 
 The fatal bear-skin moccason, 
 
 And flaming torch placed o'er his head. STANZA X. 
 
 ' The captive is informed of his fate by being invested with moccasons 
 of black bear's skin, and having placed over his head a flaming torch, the 
 sure indications of his doom. 
 
 Before the fatal scene begins, however, he is allowed a short interval to 
 sing his death-song, which he performs in a triumphant tone. 
 
 He proclaims the joy with which he goes to the land of souls, where he 
 will meet his brave ancestors, who taught him the great lesson to fight and 
 the greater one to suffer. 
 
 He recounts his war-like exploits," particularly those performed against 
 the kindred of his tormentors; and if there was any one of them whom he 
 vanquished and caused to expire amid tortures, he loudly proclaims it. He 
 declares his inextinguishable desire to cut their flesh, and to drink their 
 blood to the last drop. The scene is considered, even when compared to 
 the field of battle, as the great theatre of Indian glory. When two pri- 
 soners were about to be tortured by the French at Quebec, a charitable 
 hand privately supplied a weapon with which one of them killed himself; 
 but the other derided his effeminacy, and proudly prepared himself for the 
 fiery trial." Murray's British America, vol. i. p. 120. 
 
 Though wearing still the pallid shade 
 By fathers caught from ocean's spray. STANZA XVII. 
 The red-man believes that the first parents of the pale race sprang from 
 the foam of the salt water. 
 
 And Can-ne-hoot on him conferred 
 A name that rings like battle-word. 
 
 They are exceedingly bigoted as to names. They give themselves those 
 which are very expressive, denoting some interesting object in nature, or 
 some historical event. They change their own names, as new events pre- 
 sent occasions. They are much pleased when the white people assign them 
 names ; and in return they select names for their white friends, which are 
 
NOTES. 239 
 
 strikingly significant of some prominent trait in their character, shewing 
 that they are critical observers of human nature. " The Indians wear, by 
 way of amulet or charm, the feathers of certain birds whose names they 
 bear, believing that they confer on the wearer all the virtues or excellencies 
 of those birds." 
 
 A right war-captive to demand. STANZA xxn. 
 
 The survivors of the slain, may demand revenge for their loss, or solicit 
 that the captives be spared to supply the vacancy. The stranger, being 
 received into one of the families as a husband, brother or son, is treated 
 with the utmost tenderness. Those who perhaps immediately before ex- 
 hausted their ingenuity in tormenting him, now nurse the wounds they have 
 made, and load him with caresses. 
 
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