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 a
 
 THE SEVEN SAGAS
 
 THE SEVEN SAGAS 
 
 OF 
 
 PREHISTORIC MAN 
 
 BY 
 
 JAMES H. STODDART 
 
 AUTHOR OF "the VILLAGE LIFE" 
 
 Ho ntion 
 CHATTO AND WIXDUS, PICCADILLY 
 
 1884 
 
 [A'i rights reserved'^
 
 
 TO 
 
 MRS. JOHN CAMERON, 
 
 A SINCERE AND KIND 
 FRIEND, 
 
 I INSCRIBE THIS VOLUME. 
 
 J. H. S. 
 
 Rn^f?S>i
 
 PREFACE. 
 
 If round the hearths in Winter, 
 
 Or in Autumnal days, 
 In the leisure hours of toilers, 
 
 Should be read these rugged lays, 
 These tales of Races sunk away 
 
 In Time's unfathomed haze ; 
 May they please the gracious readers. 
 
 And the audience that hears ; 
 May they picture to the fancy 
 
 In far-receding years 
 The lives of grey forefathers — 
 
 Old forefathers of the Drift, 
 Old Cave men, and old huntsmen 
 
 ^^'ith spear and arrow swift ; 
 May they pass in open vision 
 
 As scenes that shift and shift 
 On the wide stage of human life ; 
 
 That who attends may know 
 From the first unto the latest day. 
 
 The stream of life doth flow — 
 That we are here because they lived 
 
 In ages long ago.
 
 CONTENTS. 
 
 PAGE 
 
 The Earliest Man ... ... ... ... i 
 
 The Cave Max ... ... ... ... 21 
 
 The Neolithic Farmer ... ... ... 47 
 
 The Early Man of Africa ... ... 67 
 
 The Aryan Migration ... ... ... ... 105 
 
 The Burning of the Crannog ... ... 139 
 
 The L.\st Sacrifice ... ... ... ... 159
 
 THE EARLIEST MAN.
 
 THE EARLIEST MAN. 
 
 A FLINT flake, rudely edged ; you might 
 
 Impatient pass it by, 
 And wonder why illustrious men 
 
 Should turn it curiously, 
 And gaze with reverence on it 
 
 As if its worth were high. 
 
 A common piece of flint it seems, 
 Torn from its parent bed, — 
 
 The mountain limestone — by a stream 
 That through the valley sped, 
 
 And swirled the fragment to the shore. 
 At a long level head. 
 
 That flint is the divinest stone 
 
 That human eyes may scan, 
 For on its edge is written deep 
 
 An Apocalypse of man. 
 In the remote millenniums, 
 
 Before our rivers ran 
 Their ancient courses, and before 
 
 Our present sea swept round
 
 THE EARLIEST MAN. 
 
 The green isle of the Celtic West ; 
 
 Before the ocean found 
 And formed the stormy channel 
 
 Between French and British ground, - 
 A man's hand held the flint flake, 
 
 And chipped it till a blade, 
 Keen as an edge of iron. 
 
 Killed, cut, and scraped and flayed ; 
 The noblest weapon of its day 
 
 By human fingers made. 
 
 Who taught him to observe the flint, 
 
 And mark the cleavings keen? 
 Who taught him that a cutting edge 
 
 The cleavings lay between ? 
 High Reason, lord of brutes, alone 
 
 Taught man in the remote 
 And long forgotten ages, 
 
 To shape his work by thought, 
 And to reason out a weapon 
 
 On a plan that brutes had not. 
 And to use it for a purpose 
 
 When he hunted or he fought. 
 
 Half-human sire of every race 
 
 In all the lands that be, 
 That oldest worker on the flints 
 
 Evades our scrutiny.
 
 THE EARLIEST MAN. 
 
 Whence came he, and from what emerged ? 
 What was his ancestry? 
 
 Dark as the realms of Yama 
 
 Our Aryan fathers feared, 
 Dark as the steaming globe was once, 
 
 Before the sun appeared, 
 And with its fervent light and heat 
 
 A brood of life upreared,— 
 Thus dark is the life vision, 
 
 That on this edge of flint 
 Reveals, and but reveals a man, 
 
 Who left his large imprint 
 Of life and reason on it. 
 
 But beyond no further glint. 
 
 We figure him a savage, 
 
 With hands to rudely shape 
 A weapon for his uses ; 
 
 Low-templed like the ape, 
 With large projecting eyebrows, 
 
 And jaws that widely gape, 
 With hairy hide, unclad, or clad 
 
 In winter with the skin 
 Of some fierce brute his cunning caught 
 
 By stealthy stalk or gin. 
 Or by a happy blow of club. 
 
 That to the brain broke in.
 
 THE EARLIEST MAN. 
 
 Ages before this flint was worked 
 
 His sires had led their Hves 
 In savage misery in the woods ; 
 
 And with their dusky wives 
 Reared dusky children ; but no trace 
 
 Of that dark age survives. 
 Yet they had found the secret 
 
 To kindle from the dead, 
 Dry, withered leaves and branches 
 
 A night-fire, shooting red 
 Within its smoke, and lighting round 
 
 The cave or forest bed. 
 
 And farther distant in the past, 
 
 Before the Drift man rose. 
 An ancient father wandered, 
 
 And battled with his foes. 
 And still before this ancient man 
 
 An older had his close 
 Of savage life, of fear and joy. 
 
 And backward we may wend, 
 By fancy only guided, 
 
 To some far distant end. 
 When with the Inarticulate 
 
 The sires of mankind blend.
 
 THE EARLIEST MAN. 
 
 But who can trace the long descent? 
 
 Who reckon up the sum 
 Of structure and of tendencies, 
 
 That from the creature dumb 
 And forest-roving might be built 
 
 The form from which should come 
 The speaking tribes of mankind, — 
 
 Drift fathers long ago. 
 Dim fathers ot the human time ? 
 
 There is no highest glow 
 Of most excelling genius 
 
 That to the world can show 
 A light behind the dark that veils 
 
 This Stone — the earhest spark 
 Of human effort in the world, 
 
 The first touch and the mark 
 Of mind above the brutish mind, 
 
 The first gleam from the dark 
 Of an intelligence above 
 
 All that had ever been 
 Since earth was earth, and creatures lived, 
 
 Since trees were high and green ; 
 Here first is a reflecting man. 
 
 Revealed upon the scene. 
 
 This old man lived by river banks 
 In the short winter days ;
 
 THE EARLIEST MAN. 
 
 Secure in deep-worn caves he slept, 
 
 And by his wood-fire's blaze, 
 Ate, drank, and danced until the rage 
 
 Of hunger, many ways 
 Sent him forth roaming with his wives ; 
 
 A hunter, cunning, bold. 
 And in the summer time he made 
 
 His home within the wold, 
 Beneath a great-limbed leafy tree ; 
 
 At sundown he would fold 
 His family, and till the dawn 
 
 Keep living the red flame, 
 That warmed his young and scared away 
 
 The things of evil fame. 
 And terrified the giant brutes 
 
 That round his lodging came. 
 
 Low, mean, and savage life was his, 
 
 A life of evil fare. 
 His food was always hard to find, 
 
 Though it was all his care. 
 And hunger often forced him 
 
 A cruel fate to dare. 
 If luck had sent him rowth of food. 
 
 He feasted all the day, 
 And slept and feasted till his stores 
 
 Had all been swept away,
 
 THE EARLIEST MAN. 
 
 And till the pangs of hunger came, 
 Brute satisfied he lay. 
 
 A wary, cunning soul was his ; 
 
 Though all but weaponless, 
 He toiled and planned, and snared and caught. 
 
 With knowledge and finesse. 
 He studied haunts and habitats. 
 
 And customs of the wild ; 
 The times of all the beasts he knew, 
 
 And all he had beguiled. 
 With quick wit he had watched them 
 
 Since he had been a child. 
 
 His ancestors had left him, 
 
 Besides his instincts strong. 
 Destructive, and lascivious, 
 
 A glint of right and wrong. 
 Of tribal justice and of laws; 
 
 He had his moral code. 
 And solemn forms of social life 
 
 With friends and foes abroad ; 
 He was human at the highest, 
 
 Though the brute within him glowed. 
 
 All this the flint flake teaches 
 To the instructed eye ;
 
 lo THE EARLIEST MAN. 
 
 And beside this rudest weapon 
 
 Many other relics lie 
 In the ancient Drift to teach us ; 
 
 And they speak with certainty 
 Of the age and its surroundings ; 
 
 Of the animals that shared 
 The forest with him and the cave ; 
 
 And the relics Time has spared, 
 People again this older world, 
 
 Sunk deep beneath the old ; 
 The aided vision through the dusk 
 
 May dimly still behold, 
 On the great plains, and swamps, and woods, 
 
 And on the ranges bold. 
 Upland and mountain, creatures strange ; 
 
 Though few of them remain, 
 Some changed in structure, many lost, 
 
 And some driven back again 
 To other wilds, in lordly pride 
 
 Predominant to reign. 
 
 Here with the early Drift man roamed 
 The Mammoth, lord of brutes 
 
 In bulk and strength ; his mighty tusks 
 Curved upward from their roots ; 
 
 He trampled through the forest depth, 
 And fed on the green shoots.
 
 THE EARLIEST MAN. ii 
 
 And in the deep broad rivers 
 
 The Sea Bull reared his head, 
 Snorting with pleasure as he rose 
 
 And on the green banks fed. 
 And the grisly bear in winter 
 
 In the caves hybernated. 
 
 At dusk the Sabre Tooth stole out 
 
 From cave or thorny brake — 
 Our tiger with a stronger jaw 
 
 And of a mightier make, 
 And fiercer temper ; when he snarled 
 
 His savage lips would peel 
 O'er flashing tusks, like the fell edge 
 
 Of swords of tempered steel ; 
 And when he roared, the forest shook 
 
 As from a thunder peal. 
 
 Huge shouldered, and low hipped, and high, 
 
 Above the grass he strode. 
 Light on his foot, and yet his paw 
 
 Fell like the bolt of God, 
 And tore down to the bones the brute 
 
 On which he laid his load. 
 The Mammoth shunned him, for his strength 
 
 Availed not in the fight
 
 12 THE EARLIEST MAN. 
 
 \\'hen rending paw and flashing teeth 
 And muscles twitching tight, 
 
 Opposed the sluggish monster, 
 Without vigour with his might. 
 
 Oft in his cave the Drift man heard 
 
 The forest glades resound 
 With the low growlings in his rage, — 
 
 Mouth sweeping on the ground, — 
 Of the Dread Cruelty that stalked 
 
 His blazing wood-fire round. 
 
 He heard him and revered him, 
 No brute more feared than he ; 
 
 But though the old man feared him, 
 He trapped him subtlely. 
 
 And stripped him of his tawny hide 
 With taunting words and glee. 
 
 And the Rhinoceros afar 
 
 In gloomy fens made lair. 
 The snub-nosed and the woolly-skinned, 
 
 Caught sometimes in the snare 
 Of the wily forest-hunter, 
 
 Who picked his great bones bare. 
 The mottled-skinned Hyaena yelped 
 
 In packs within the glade,
 
 THE EARLIEST MAN. 13 
 
 Following fast the Sabre Tooth 
 
 Upon his murderous raid ; 
 Or prowled around the camp-fire 
 
 The Drift man's wives had made. 
 
 Great herds of bison crossed the plains 
 
 And fed on springing grass, 
 They came in thousands leisurely, 
 
 Through the time-trodden pass ; 
 And he took toll of them at the fords, ' 
 
 As they struggled mass on mass. 
 
 The elk, with mighty antlers 
 
 Spread broad above his head, 
 And fierce kine, roaming through the wilds, 
 
 Not yet subdued and bred, 
 And the unmounted horse that fleet 
 
 Before pursuers fled, 
 Were all the huntsman's quarry ; 
 
 He cared not but to slay. 
 And stock his cave or forest hut 
 
 With fresh meat day by day. 
 
 His weapons : — heavy club of oak, 
 
 A scraping disc of flint, 
 A heavy axe by nature fomied — 
 
 A round quartz with the print
 
 14 THE EARLIEST MAN. 
 
 Of effort on its thinner end, 
 
 To give it cutting edge — 
 By the thick round he held it, 
 
 He knew not how to wedge 
 The stone into a handle; 
 
 And of other weapons none. 
 But from the wild beasts of the field 
 
 His food was daily won. 
 He sowed no seeds, and in his days 
 
 The forest fruits were few. 
 The oak tree yielded acorns, 
 
 And wild roots he could chew 
 He found among the grasses ; 
 
 And from the stream he drew 
 By wile and gin the scaly tribe ; 
 
 But from the rivers broad, 
 And from the wide shores of the sea, 
 
 He little sustenance owed; 
 The art of shaping out a boat 
 
 Had not yet been bestowed. 
 
 Shell-fish he found upon the shore, 
 And at the spawning time, 
 
 When shoals of salmon crowded round 
 The linns they strove to climb, 
 
 He caught and feasted on them ; 
 And the wreckage of the plains.
 
 THE EARLIEST MAN. 15 
 
 Of the forests and the mountains, 
 He tracked the lost remains. 
 
 He knew where fell the rutting buck ; 
 
 He found the crippled doe, 
 And he watched the calving kine, and stole 
 
 The young ones while they low, 
 In piteous plaint, upon their dams, 
 
 For ruth he did not know. 
 
 Single-handed all his woodcraft. 
 
 All his hunting, had been vain 
 And feeble, as against the brutes 
 
 That kept the mount and plain, 
 And were masters of the forest depths. 
 
 Before he dared to reign. 
 
 But kindred families had grown 
 
 Into a social band, 
 A little tribe and commune. 
 
 Who worked with common hand. 
 And hunted for each other's need, 
 
 Under the sole command 
 Of a brave crafty leader. 
 
 Experienced in the field. 
 His was the right to guide them. 
 
 When round the evening bield 
 A ravenous brute sent forth a voice 
 
 That through the forest pealed.
 
 1 6 THE EARLIEST MAN. 
 
 And when a hostile tribe burst in 
 
 Upon their hunting-ground, 
 His club was always first in hand, 
 
 And in the front was found; 
 His terror-dealing blows were first 
 
 To meet th' intruding race. 
 He ruled by strength and courage 
 
 And endurance in the chase; 
 And when at last by club, or stone, 
 
 Or age he lost his place, 
 The strongest man succeeded him. 
 
 And after him there rose. 
 Out of the many chieftains 
 
 Renowned for fighting foes. 
 Still wiser, fiercer, stronger men : 
 
 Men overruling those — 
 Great heroes and great hunters, 
 
 Who taught with higher skill, 
 The tribes to hunt with better craft, 
 
 With finer flints to kill; 
 
 Great men in prehistoric time. 
 
 In olden lands afar, 
 Old Nimrods, Cassars, Charlemagnes 
 
 In hunting and in war. 
 With names above all other names. 
 
 And glorious as the star
 
 THE EARLIEST MAN. 17 
 
 That led the Drift man to his wives. 
 
 But all forgotten they, 
 Although mayhap revered as gods, 
 
 To whom the Drift men may 
 Have paid their homage, if had dawned 
 
 A dim religious ray 
 Upon their brutish souls ; but now, 
 
 All dust they are, and gone, 
 And long before the memory 
 
 The modern race can o\\ti, 
 Aught but the recent heroes, 
 
 That recent myths have grown — 
 A narrow life of mankind — 
 
 These earlier lives were led. 
 Far in the past dim ages. 
 
 Uncounted of the dead. 
 
 Yet through the darkness, thick and deep. 
 
 Historic, there is shed, 
 On the back-gazing eye, a light. 
 
 Revealing many a gift 
 To mankind from those heroes, 
 
 Who in the ancient Drift 
 Had name and fame and genius, 
 
 Swept up into the lift. 
 
 And this the flint flake teaches, 
 Sole relic of a race
 
 THE EARLIEST MAN. 
 
 Dead, buried in alluvial depths, 
 
 Its far-off resting-place; 
 For not dubious or uncertain, 
 
 Man then lived with subtle brain ; 
 Lived and hunted, loved and hated. 
 
 And o'er the world's domain. 
 His lordship by his soul alone 
 
 Victorious did maintain. 
 
 He ranged from the great tablelands 
 
 Beyond the Caspian Sea ; 
 Far in the East and in the West 
 
 No break or stop had he. 
 Our world is new compared with his. 
 
 New islands and new shores, 
 New rivers and new seas are ours, 
 
 New beings, ampler stores 
 Of food for man and creature — 
 
 All things have been made new ; 
 A fresher and a lovelier world 
 
 Is now within our view. 
 
 And from this rudely fashioned flint. 
 So old ! in time has grown, 
 
 By slow endeavour of the race, 
 All weapons that we own — 
 
 All tools ; the great machinery 
 That links us zone with zone.
 
 THE EARLIEST MAN. 19 
 
 In this frayed chij) that bears the mark 
 
 Of a primeval hand, 
 The newer man, with eyes to see 
 
 And soul to understand, 
 May see and dimly reckon up 
 
 The stages sure and grand, 
 In the wide stretch of time between 
 
 The ancient hand and mind, 
 And the last touch of skill in work 
 
 The last thought has defined. 
 In the lustrous strength of reason. 
 
 By the genius of our kind. 
 
 For all our work, our highest soul, 
 
 Is present in the face 
 Of this old weapon, thrown aside 
 
 By a half-human race, 
 In darkest prehistoric time. 
 
 At its last resting-place.
 
 THE CAVE MAN.
 
 THE CAVE MAN. 
 
 Long reaches down the stream of time, 
 
 The Drift man disappears ; 
 How ? why ? or where ? is all unknown- 
 He had fulfilled his years. 
 And a new man succeeded him, 
 
 With arrows and with spears — 
 A savage man, a hunter, 
 
 Who knew not yet to till 
 The fertile breast of Mother Earth, 
 
 And from her increase fill 
 His ancient home with peaceful food; 
 
 Yet with increasing skill, 
 He better knew to chip the flint, 
 
 And fix it to a dart ; 
 He had discovered, or had brought 
 
 From some remoter part, 
 The bow and arrows, instrument 
 
 Of more destructive art. 
 
 Unseen he stood and drew his bow 
 And struck his quarry down,
 
 24 THE CAVE MAN. 
 
 And even monsters of the plain, 
 When many shafts had flown, 
 
 Fell before repeated blows 
 Of a foe that stood unknown. 
 
 This ancient man had nimble hands, 
 
 As many a relic shows. 
 His tools and arms of flint and bone, 
 
 To hunt, or to oppose 
 His savage neighbours, were devised 
 
 With a true glimpse of taste. 
 He wuth an artist's eye and skill, 
 
 Selecting from the waste 
 Of bone, and horn, and mighty tusk, 
 
 That round his Cave were placed, 
 Shaped out bold weapon handles, 
 
 And on their smoothness traced, 
 In flowing lines, artistic thoughts ; — 
 
 The young deer, fighting strong 
 And overmastering the buck. 
 
 That had for seasons long, 
 Taken his choice of nimble does, 
 
 And stalked with pride among. 
 
 And the Mammoth, standing deep in grass, 
 
 With meditative eye, 
 Or charging wildly open-mouthed, 
 
 And trumping trunk on high,
 
 THE CAVE MAN. 25 
 
 His gleaming tusks revealing 
 A foe was lurking nigh. 
 
 The horse, he pictured pleasantly, 
 And archer keen at hand, 
 
 Fitting his arrow to the string, 
 Prepared to launch the wand, 
 
 Flint-pointed, at the noble brute 
 Men did not yet command. 
 
 And pictures of the seal he scraped 
 
 With his flint-burin, clear 
 Upon the polished bone, his prey. 
 
 In the long winters drear ; 
 He speared him at the river mouth, 
 
 Or by the white seas near. 
 
 We see him at his Cave home. 
 
 And round about it spread 
 The refuse of his housekeeping, 
 
 The brown skulls of his dead; 
 We watch him by the night fire, 
 
 With wives and children there ; 
 His sons, their wives, and grandsons, 
 
 All working in the glare 
 Of the pine-light shooting upward 
 
 Into the evening air ;
 
 THE CAVE MAN. 
 
 And their shadows gUmmer backward 
 In the forest by their side. 
 
 Some are scraping with the iiint flakes 
 The Mammoth's hairy hide; 
 
 Some are forming a new weapon 
 That another tribe has tried ; 
 
 And others cut young branches 
 
 Until they deftly grow, 
 By labour of the workmen's hand, 
 
 Into a shapely bow. 
 And maidens point the arrow-heads, 
 
 Before them in a row. 
 With jagged flints and points of bone ; 
 
 And little children ply 
 The light flints on the whetstone, 
 
 Or mischievously try 
 To pick the meat from off the fire 
 
 When the elders are not nigh. 
 
 In the fire-glow sits the artist, 
 With bone blade on his knee, 
 
 Tracing with his pen of flint, 
 In flowing lines and free, 
 
 The last achievement of the tribe, 
 Won by its energy. 
 
 The feast is shared around the fire ; 
 Then another fire is lit.
 
 THE CAVE MAN. 27 
 
 Some paces nearer to the stream, 
 
 Around the inner, sit — 
 The older men and women, — 
 
 To give the dancers space 
 For the solemn dance to welcome 
 
 The coming to the place 
 Of the great herds of bison, 
 
 The vast migrating race, 
 Following the green pastures, 
 
 And the instincts of their kind ; 
 And the welcome dance has lasted 
 
 Since time was out of mind. 
 And eagerly the dancers flit 
 
 Between the glowing fires, 
 Young men, and wives, and maidens. 
 
 Full of life and young desires, 
 Till passion, roused and heated. 
 
 In violence expires. 
 
 But as the dance grew wilder, 
 
 A grow^l, and then a roar. 
 Above the din and river rush, 
 
 Were heard ; and long before 
 The terror-stricken kinsmen 
 
 Could fly, the shock was o'er. 
 
 A Sabre Tooth sprang light above 
 The outer fire, and caught
 
 2S THE CAVE MAN. 
 
 Even as he fell a hunter brave, 
 
 And with his fierce onslaus;ht 
 Slew him and bore him swift away ; 
 
 And cat-like he withdrew, 
 With easy tread, beyond the light, 
 
 Careless, as if he knew 
 That none would dare to follow him, 
 
 And in revenge pursue. 
 
 The monster took the artist. 
 
 The best man of the clan ; 
 And a loud wail arose around. 
 
 From woman and from man ; 
 And fast into the Cave the braves, 
 
 With furious outcries, ran. 
 
 They seized their weapons and rushed out. 
 
 The old men bearing light. 
 They followed hard the bloody spoor 
 
 Till the great brute came in sight ; 
 Beyond the woodland on the plain 
 
 His ravenous appetite 
 He crouching glutted ; but the shouts 
 
 Amazed him at his prey, 
 And raising up his gory jaws, 
 
 And fixing, glowing, grey, 
 His hell eyes on the Cave folks, 
 , He bounded forth away.
 
 THE CAVE MAN. 29 
 
 And, terror-struck, they saw him pass, 
 
 The mightiest of the field. 
 The iron-limbed and engine-jawed, 
 
 That to no brute would yield; 
 For the greatest fell beneath his stroke, 
 
 The Cave bear and the bull. 
 And Man, when his hot belly's rage 
 
 The wild game could not cool ; 
 King of the forest and the plain. 
 
 None might dispute his rule. 
 
 Then home returned the Cave folk. 
 
 To women shedding tears, 
 To wildest strains of anguish. 
 
 With futile clash of spears. 
 The artist true had mourners 
 
 For many coming years ; 
 
 Not one of all the tribe but owned 
 
 Some relic of his art : 
 Some nice-shaped hammer handle, 
 
 Some horn, or pin, or dart. 
 With the graphic tracings on it. 
 
 He only could impart. 
 
 But chief of all the mourners 
 Was her who shared his bed.
 
 THE CAVE MAN. 
 
 In a deep nook within the Cave, — 
 
 The wife that he had led 
 A captive from a far-off tribe, 
 
 And by rude custom wed. 
 
 The fairest of the women, 
 
 And loved by him alone, 
 Clove to him as the sinew 
 
 Cleaves firmly to the bone ; 
 And children fair she bore to him ; 
 
 And now her lord was gone. 
 Grief silenced her the while the noise 
 
 Of ancient rites arose 
 Above her bowed head as she sat. 
 
 And heard their mournful close. 
 
 Then rose she from her place obscure, 
 
 Like a chief among his foes. 
 And by the fire-light raised her arm, 
 
 And to the old men said — 
 " My love is by the Sabre Tooth 
 
 Struck dead among the dead. 
 But I will wield his spear and be 
 
 In the tribe's place instead. 
 None other shall I take to me ; 
 
 For who of all the race 
 Of the Cave folks can be to me 
 
 Like him, of manliest face
 
 THE CAVE MAN. 31 
 
 And tenderest passion, urgent 
 
 With modesty and grace ? 
 Grant me his place within the tribe, 
 
 And ere to-morrow's sun 
 Has sunk behind the burning hills. 
 
 Revile me, if but one 
 Of all the kinsfolk has secured 
 
 More spoil than I have won." 
 
 Then strode she to the fire-glow. 
 
 That o'er the old chiefs spread ; 
 Clean-limbed she was, and litheliness 
 
 From ankle up to head. 
 Revealed its flowing curves and bends ; 
 
 And the young men looked afraid — 
 She looked so strong and daring, 
 
 And they knew she would not wed. 
 
 Then rose the father of the tribe, 
 
 Grey-haired and feeble-eyed, 
 For many a toil he had endured, 
 
 And many a battle tried, 
 And home from many a savage hunt 
 
 Had come unsatisfied. 
 Long tracks of plain and forest, 
 
 In youth he traversed o'er, 
 When from his father's tribe he fled, 
 
 Pursued and punished sore,
 
 THE CAVE MAN. 
 
 With nothing but his bow and spear, 
 And the wide world all before. 
 
 None matched him as a hunter, 
 
 His arrow fled like light. 
 And struck with quivering motion 
 
 Where'er he fixed his sight ; 
 His spear sped when he threw it, 
 
 And swerved not in its might. 
 And soon his prowess won him 
 
 The fairest of the maids 
 Of all the tribes that lived within 
 
 The far-extending glades ; 
 And home he brought her to the Cave, 
 
 The centre of his raids. 
 
 There reared he sons and daughters, 
 
 And from their loins arose 
 A tribe of fame in hunting. 
 
 Of terror to its foes. 
 The father's skill, the mother's grace, 
 
 The children fair disclose — 
 The choicest tribe, none equalled it 
 
 In all the regions round ; 
 Its bows were of the toughest. 
 
 Its arrows most renowned. 
 
 Arose the father, and he took 
 The widow by the hand :
 
 THE CAVE MAN. 33 
 
 "Your claim," he said, "my daughter, 
 
 We hardly understand ; 
 But I am old and I have seen, 
 
 "When I had firm command 
 Of tribes combined in former days, 
 
 Ere yet my strength had failed, 
 Strange things to happen, — I have seen, 
 
 Where strength has not availed, 
 The cunning of the woman win ; 
 
 And where the warrior quailed. 
 The warrior's wife and daughter 
 
 Strike victory home ! 
 
 In olden days, 
 
 When with me was my bride. 
 How I remember ! fondly she 
 
 Stood firmly by my side, 
 And followed with unerring stroke, 
 
 The stroke that I had tried. 
 My daughter, thou shalt surely go 
 
 At rising of the sun. 
 Put on thy husband's glossy skins; 
 
 And when the day is done, 
 Come to me with the trophies 
 
 These lovely arms have won." 
 
 So spake he; and the kinsfolk 
 Who listened by the fire, 
 
 D
 
 34 THE CAVE MAN. 
 
 Arose and shouted every one 
 
 As 'twere their heart's desire ; 
 For well they knew the noble dame 
 
 To great deeds would aspire. 
 
 The Cave slept as the widowed one 
 
 Her husband's weapons laid 
 Before the hearth fire, and rejoiced 
 
 The while, as she surveyed 
 Their strength, their polish, and their edge ; 
 
 And to herself she said — 
 " None better are there in the land, 
 
 And if my hand be true, 
 As erst it was in other days, 
 
 Before my lord I knew, 
 I surely to the chief shall bring 
 
 More than his common due." 
 
 She laid the weapons by her side, 
 
 And by her children dreamed. 
 Short was her dream, for dawn appeared. 
 
 And ere in thought she seemed 
 To stretch her limbs, a cry arose ; 
 
 The eager huntsmen screamed — 
 " Awake ! awake ! the sun is up. 
 
 And at the fords appear 
 The mighty herds, their hoofy tramp 
 
 The listener may hear;
 
 THE CAVE MAN. 35 
 
 They cross in thousands leisurely, 
 And wander far and near." 
 
 The weaponed men all issued forth, 
 
 The matron followed fast, 
 And through the woodlands to the fords 
 
 In ordered march they passed ; 
 Each slung his bow and gripped his spear 
 
 All ready for a cast. 
 
 Down to the river, broad and wide, 
 
 They travelled till they spied. 
 On mount, on plain, in open glade. 
 
 The bison's matted hide ; 
 Thousands on thousands ranged they 
 
 In great troops, side by side. 
 They all turned to the river. 
 
 And drank deep as they crossed. 
 The tribe moved forward, and each brave 
 
 Found a convenient post, 
 By sedgy bank or bushy knoll 
 
 Or trunk a storm had tossed ; 
 Each shook his arrows from his belt, 
 
 And laid his long bow down. 
 And as the great brutes waded. 
 
 Each face showed, fell and brown, 
 Above its covert, and a spear 
 
 From each right hand was thrown.
 
 J 
 
 5 THE CAVE MAN. 
 
 Many were pierced and felt the sting 
 
 Of the keen jagged blade ; 
 The herds tramped on their sullen pace, 
 
 Great herds, slow undismayed. 
 They fill the ford and trample down 
 
 The wounded as they wade ; 
 
 Then as the throng grew denser, 
 
 A shower of arrows flew. 
 Shower upon shower they fell, and filled 
 
 The herds with terror new. 
 And in a wild stampede, the bulls 
 
 Pressed the wide water through. 
 And snorting, rushed into the woods ; 
 
 Followed, with tail on high, 
 The timorous females and their calves, 
 
 With many a bleeding thigh ; 
 For the aim was at the youngest, 
 
 The readiest to die. 
 
 Out in the forest stood the dame — 
 So wished she to be placed — 
 
 Near to the ancient pitfall, 
 
 Dug for the wild beasts chased; 
 
 It lay with the great ford in line, 
 And many a horn had graced
 
 THE CAVE MAN. 37 
 
 Its sunken depth, of deer and bull, 
 
 Of elk, and tusky boar; 
 And the huge Mammoth there was snared, 
 
 Although its walls he tore 
 With his curved tusks of ivory, 
 
 And through his trunk sonore, 
 Piped to his fellows ; yet he fell 
 
 Prey to the Cave man's skill. 
 Club, spear, and arrow did, at last, 
 
 The work of death fulfil ; 
 And many feasts were made of him 
 
 With joyance round the pit. 
 And fires were lighted by its side, 
 
 That red the dancers lit, 
 Illumining the banquets 
 
 Won by the Cave man's wit. 
 
 Near stood the matron, with a spear — 
 
 The best of all the clan— 
 Behind a pine tree, watching fast 
 
 The bison as they ran ; 
 And as a great bull passed her, 
 
 Her spear was in his neck, 
 And from the wound the flowing blood 
 
 His dew-lap did bedeck. 
 He paused, and shuddered as he stood ; 
 
 She with an arrow quick.
 
 38 THE CAVE MAN. 
 
 Struck deep into his flank ; he reared 
 Then rushed, and stumbUng fell 
 
 Into the snare prepared for him ; 
 And many, she knew well. 
 
 Would follow blindly after 
 The lord that bore the bell. 
 
 And joy was hers, the trap was full. 
 
 Yet on the wild herd rushed ; 
 They trampled down the feeble brutes, 
 
 And by her covert brushed. 
 Till, far upon the distant plain. 
 
 Their thundering hoofs were hushed. 
 
 Twice only had she struck, and still 
 
 Had weapons lying near. 
 Before she turned to join her folks, 
 
 She poised another spear. 
 And waited for another bull. 
 
 To end his fierce career. 
 
 Nor waited long; with dripping hide, 
 
 A sullen bull passed by, 
 A patriarch of the herd he seemed, 
 
 Big in the neck and thigh. 
 With easy pace he walked, but watched, 
 
 With a black glowing eye,
 
 THE CAVE MAN. 39 
 
 From side to side ; and as she rose 
 And launched with all her might 
 
 The tight spear from her shoulder, 
 His dark eye caught her sight ; 
 
 And down his huge head lowered, 
 And his tail rose to its height. 
 
 The spear had only grazed the neck 
 
 Beneath the matted mane, 
 It sped beyond the savage bull. 
 
 And fastened in the plain. 
 He snorting, pawing on the ground, 
 
 Charged ; and she flew amain, 
 But grasped her bow and arrows, 
 
 And fleet of foot she sped. 
 Not to the ford where succour was. 
 
 But through the woodland glade : 
 She hoped in the thick underwood 
 
 His charge would be misled. 
 
 But the bison followed on her flight 
 
 With instinct keen and true. 
 And every turn and tack she made 
 
 In his great rage he knew ; 
 He tore through brake and thorny bush. 
 
 With deep revenge in view. 
 
 She slid behind a mighty pine, 
 And fitting to her bow
 
 40 THE CAVE MAN. 
 
 A choice flint arrow, drew it hard. 
 
 It smote his shoulder low; 
 And though the blood around the wound 
 
 Did in red volume flow, 
 He felt it as a thorny scratch 
 
 That tears his hairy hide 
 When through the wood he rushes, 
 
 With a fell foe by his side — 
 A keen-toothed enemy that springs 
 
 Where the field is clear and wide. 
 
 Again from the pine trunk she sped, 
 
 And fitting to the string, 
 Even as she fled, another shaft. 
 
 She wheeled as on the wing, 
 And struck him in the sinewy neck ; 
 
 And from the purple spring 
 The arrow tapped, the blood rushed out, 
 
 And loud the monster roared, 
 As for a moment on his knees 
 
 He fell, and she implored 
 Her husband's shade to aid her flight 
 
 To her kinsfolk at the ford. 
 
 A moment only, and he charged. 
 His huge front bended low; 
 
 The fire had kindled in his eyes, 
 And blood and foam did flow.
 
 THE CAVE MAN. 41 
 
 From mouth and nostrils breathing hard ; 
 
 She strung upon her bow 
 Her only flake, and with an aim 
 
 Unnerved she sought his eye ; 
 And as the dart sang from her hand 
 
 The maddened brute was nigh. 
 The aim was fair, for through the orb 
 
 It pierced, and slanted by ; 
 
 It missed the brain, but the sore wound, 
 Stopped short his charging pace; 
 
 He bellowed, as the blood ran down 
 His trembling nose and face ; 
 
 And the brown widow slipped away 
 To a safe hiding-place. 
 
 Home, laden with the hunter's spoil, 
 
 The tribe came to the cave. 
 And wives and mothers and old men, 
 
 And children of the brave. 
 Came forth to meet them joyously, 
 
 And honour to them gave. 
 
 But while the feast was spread, the chief 
 Looked round, and missed the fair 
 
 Brown huntress, who had tribal leave 
 The perilous task to share
 
 THE CAVE MAN. 
 
 Of hunting the wild bison 
 
 With her husband's bow and spear. 
 And he gloomed as he glanced round him, 
 
 And his voice was raised above 
 The emulous tones of warriors, 
 
 And the boisterous trills of love. 
 And the shouts of merry children, 
 
 Who played around the fire. 
 And fed its flames to roast the food 
 
 That roused their keen desire ; 
 
 But the voice of the old chieftain, 
 
 The high commanding sire. 
 Hushed all to silence as he spoke : 
 
 " My daughter, where is she ? 
 Where are the gifts she sought to lay 
 
 Before her father's knee? 
 Where, oh ye silent hunters, 
 
 Is the dame so fair to see ? " 
 
 Then rose the elder brother — 
 
 A counseller to the wise, 
 And regarding the grey sire, he spoke 
 
 Without a word of guise : 
 " The fairest of all hunters chose 
 
 To work her own devise. 
 She left us at the ford, to try 
 
 Her polished weapons keen
 
 THE CAVE MAN. 43 
 
 On the tired bison we had hurt, 
 
 Behind a woodland screen. 
 And well we know her aim was good, 
 
 For the pitfall we have seen, 
 'Twas filled with victory of her art ; 
 
 But alas ! although we sought 
 All round the spot, we found her not, 
 
 But a long trail we caught. 
 A mighty bull had followed her, 
 
 And fiercely with her fought, 
 For wounds were in his face and neck, 
 
 So bitter had she shot. 
 And w'e despatched the bellowing one, 
 
 Where his last wound was got ; 
 We sought her long within the wood. 
 
 And yet we found her not." 
 
 Then the grey chieftain answered, 
 
 " To-morrow all shall go 
 Into the wood w'ith war-gear, 
 
 And beat it to and fro ; 
 And I myself shall lead you, 
 
 For all woodcraft I know." 
 
 Well pleased the brethren murmured. 
 
 And then began the feast. 
 The feast of tired and hungry men, 
 
 The keen meal of the beast ;
 
 44 THE CAVE MAN. 
 
 With ravenous teeth they tore the flesh 
 
 And with swift strokes released 
 The marrow from the larger bones, 
 
 Or sucked it from the core. 
 And when the ravenous meal was done, 
 
 When the Cave men, stretched before 
 The ruddy fires, relaxed their limbs 
 
 And turned them o'er and o'er; 
 And when the women, placed apart 
 
 And following their lords. 
 Regaled themselves with daintier bits 
 
 Their wiliness affords ; 
 And ere deep sleep around the fires 
 
 Had banished all discords, — 
 
 Lo ! running wildly to the camp 
 
 The huntress widow came. 
 She leaped the limits of the fire, 
 
 Her furs touched not the flame. 
 And down she fell exhausted. 
 
 The all-victorious dame. 
 
 And death was in her cheek and eye, 
 The sweet blood, red and warm. 
 
 Ran through her breasts ; an alien spear 
 Had done her mortal harm. 
 
 It touched her heart just as she caught 
 The fireglow and the charm
 
 THE CAVE MAN. 45 
 
 Of kindred and of children dear. 
 
 Hard had she been beset, 
 In the lone forest, by a chief 
 
 That wandering she met. 
 He strove to take her to his home 
 
 By capture, and beget 
 Brave sons and daughters by her; 
 
 For well the chieftain knew 
 No fairer daughter of the Caves 
 
 Than the dame he did pursue, 
 Or braver with the bow and spear. 
 
 Was known afar, or nigh. 
 But she disdained him, and she fled. 
 
 Her bow borne up on high, 
 Eager to find a shelter 
 
 And escape the enemy. 
 
 But the wide-breasted chieftain 
 
 Followed her footsteps fast ; 
 And as the glimmer of the fire 
 
 Strook to him as he passed 
 Her covert, and even as she rose. 
 
 With a last spurt, to meet 
 The protection of her kinsfolk, 
 
 And rest to wearied feet, 
 The chief sent forth a hissing spear; 
 
 He did not think to slay —
 
 46 THE CAVE MAN. 
 
 He only deemed the weapon 
 Her fleet feet would delay ; 
 
 That wounded lightly he would bear 
 A new wife safe away. 
 
 But she escaped him, and she fell 
 Among her kinsfolk dear, 
 
 Beyond the camp fire, groaning deep ; 
 Her heart's blood round the spear, 
 
 In throbbing gushes, red and strong, 
 Then faint, as death drew near. 
 
 They watched her closing gasps of life 
 The old chief weeping lay 
 
 Beside his fairest daughter, 
 And when she passed away 
 
 His stiffened limbs were by her 
 At the opening of the day.
 
 THE NEOLITHIC FARMER.
 
 THE NEOLITHIC FARMER. 
 
 Long before England ruled the waves, 
 
 Long ere the Saxon race 
 Knew British ports, and long before 
 
 The Celt had found his place 
 In the forests and the mountains, 
 
 And the vales the streams embrace, 
 An older folk for centuries 
 
 Uncounted had been here, 
 And had vanished darkly ere the light 
 
 Of history makes clear 
 The tale of modern races 
 
 That emerge and disappear 
 In the written books of authors, —   
 
 These folks had come and gone 
 When the mystic alphabetic art 
 
 Was utterly unknown. 
 They have only left their traces 
 
 In mounds of earth and stone, 
 In graves and mines of limestone 
 
 Where the precious flint was sought,
 
 50 THE NEOLITHIC FARMER. 
 
 And cleaved with skill and polished, 
 And into weapons wrought. 
 
 But of their kin and genesis, 
 
 The whole world knows not aught. 
 
 ^C)' 
 
 Yet the dark past may rise again 
 
 Before the vision keen, 
 And our old island's features 
 
 In ancient times be seen, 
 And this dim farmer-hunter 
 
 May rise upon the scene. 
 
 See, from this hill the wide expanse 
 
 Of forest, upland, dale, 
 Of bleakest moorland and of bog. 
 
 With lake and river vale, 
 Where the beaver builds his homestead, 
 
 And the wild beasts come at night, 
 To refresh them after slaughter, 
 
 Or to whet them before fight ; 
 And starting wild into the woods. 
 
 When the hunter comes in sight. 
 
 We look, and see blue wreaths of smoke 
 
 Ascend between the trees. 
 Thin curling, above tree-tops — 
 
 From human hearths are these ; 
 We may wander through the forest 
 
 And find the homes with ease.
 
 THE NEOLITHIC FARMER. 51 
 
 Green paths are here, the paths of men, 
 
 And while we thread them through, 
 Beneath the boughs of oak and fir 
 
 The clearing comes in view — 
 A wide space in the forest depths 
 
 Home-made by capture true; 
 Won from the wilds by fire and axe. 
 
 And here round huts are raised 
 In a circle by the hearth fires. 
 
 Where peat and pine-wood blazed ; 
 For the sky is darkening o'er the wold. 
 
 And the fire is warm and kind. 
 Around are women kneading 
 
 Oaten cakes, and others grind 
 The corn ears through the hollow quern, 
 
 And matrons spin the wool. 
 With spindle and with distaff 
 
 Filling the ancient spool. 
 
 And not far beyond the homestead, 
 
 Built of stakes and interlaced 
 With branches of the forest trees, 
 
 A great stockade is placed — 
 A camp of shelter and defence 
 
 When foes had to be faced ; 
 For here in times of war the herds 
 
 Of cattle and of goat.
 
 THE NEOLITHIC FARMER. 
 
 Of sheep, of horses, and of hogs, 
 
 By savage dogs were brought, 
 And the household all assembled, 
 
 And for its treasures fought. 
 
 But now the flocks are ranging safe 
 
 Beneath the forest boughs, 
 Small short-horned oxen, thin-legged sheep 
 
 With straight horns on their brows. 
 And goats half wild, and hog-maned horse,- 
 
 And swine, lean, gaunt, and small. 
 The youths and old men watch the herds 
 
 With fierce dogs at their call. 
 They have spears with polished flint heads. 
 
 And fine ground axes all. 
 Fixed in their belts of glossy fur 
 
 That bind their bear-skin coats. 
 And on their feet mocassins gay, 
 
 By hemp-string held in knots ; 
 
 And their unkempt locks are mounted 
 
 With caps of beaver skin. 
 Of stature tall, and sallow-hued, 
 
 And foreheads fair and thin, 
 With sensual lips, projecting jaws. 
 
 And beardless heavy chin, 
 Are these, the hunters, and betimes 
 
 First farmers of the soil.
 
 THE NEOLITHIC FARMER. 53 
 
 Their wives dig round the homestead, 
 
 And sow with patient toil, 
 And raise their meagre crops of corn, 
 
 And flax, for dressing fine. 
 In linen vests, the chiefs and dames, 
 
 And priests when they divine, 
 And when, with fat anointed, 
 
 They among the people shine 
 On feasting and rejoicing tides, 
 
 Or at solemn funeral rites, 
 When some time-honoured warrior 
 
 Falls in the last of fights, 
 And is placed within his barrow, 
 
 With his war-gear lying near. 
 The dead hound crouching at his feet, 
 
 As waiting on his spear ; 
 The dead chief in his gallant robes 
 
 And ornaments most dear. 
 
 He gone into the future life 
 
 His soul had seen afar 
 In dreams and visions of the night 
 
 When all things silent are, 
 And the soul has revelations, 
 
 No ignorance can bar. 
 
 Day closes on the homestead ; 
 All the stock is safely led
 
 54 THE NEOLITHIC FARMER. 
 
 From the pastures of the forest 
 
 To the fold of the stockade ; 
 And around the central hearth lire 
 
 Have assembled man and maid, 
 All the kinsfolk of the commune. 
 
 Old chieftains and their wives, 
 Their sons and grandsons round them, 
 
 And their brethren, many lives. 
 
 And while the great fire rises 
 To the softly fanning breeze 
 
 That comes with gentle pressure 
 Through lanes of forest trees, 
 
 Each one finds his taskwork. 
 And each one works to please. 
 
 Youths polish the hard flint, or fit 
 The lance head to the wood, 
 
 Or shape the bow, or grease the cord. 
 To make it strong and good, 
 
 Or grind the stone axe till its edge. 
 Frayed, and chipped, and rude, 
 
 Grows keen as beaver's cutting tooth. 
 
 And women tend the fire, 
 And knead and heat the wheaten cakes. 
 And old men never tire,
 
 THE NEOLITHIC FARMER. 55 
 
 While scraping skins with flint flakes, 
 
 In telhng tales of yore, 
 When they were young and hunted 
 
 The urus and the boar. 
 The grisly bear and hungry wolf, 
 
 The elk, and many more — 
 The great game of the hunting field 
 
 That still were roaming free. 
 
 But ah ! the old men sighed, " They pay 
 
 No longer hunters' fee. 
 For our young men are but laggards, 
 
 Wanting strength and subtlety." 
 Then the youths all jeered in laughter, 
 
 And the maidens caught the jeer, 
 And archly held up to the chief 
 
 Brave haunches of reindeer, 
 And hams of bear and bison, 
 
 And the red heart of the steer. 
 
 Then they feasted well contented, 
 
 And the old folks went to rest ; 
 But the young men and their sisters, 
 
 With old lilt and old jest. 
 Prolonged the night, until the moon, 
 
 Full-orbed, rose high and blest, 
 And through the forest's glossy leaves 
 
 Its solemn influence shed.
 
 56 THE NEOLITHIC FARMER. 
 
 Then all arose and hailed the light, 
 And softly bowed the head, 
 
 And kissed, with reverential awe, 
 Their fingers for the dead. 
 
 At last stood forth the homestead's son 
 
 In panoply complete. 
 His finest tunic he had donned, 
 
 Mocassins graced his feet ; 
 And his head-gear was embellished 
 
 With shells and feathers fair. 
 And underneath, his hair was moist 
 
 With unctuous fat of bear. 
 Around his neck a string of teeth- — 
 
 Teeth keen and white and rare, 
 And all of his own capture — 
 
 Hung glittering to his breast. 
 In finest linen robed ; and round 
 
 His skin coat, smoothly dressed, 
 His ornamented belt enclosed 
 
 A jade axe of the best.   
 
 A famous treasure of the tribe, 
 It came from Eastern lands, 
 
 The birthplace of the race, and passed 
 Through many noble hands; 
 
 It had been lost and conquered 
 From long forgotten bands.
 
 THE NEOLITHIC FARMER. 57 
 
 There was Fetish in tlie weapon — 
 
 A strong protecting power — 
 In battle, or in enterprise, 
 
 When came the evil hour. 
 And the possessor held it 
 
 With honour and applause, 
 But he only bore its virtue 
 
 Upon sufficient cause : 
 When some high deed had to be done 
 
 Or his kin enforced the laws. 
 
 The cheeks of the brave youth are touched 
 
 With bright vermilion dyes ; 
 Thick lines of red are scored around 
 
 His sloe-black piercing eyes ; 
 And on his brow blue dotted lines, 
 
 Worked through the skin, comprise 
 In many graceful windings 
 
 The totem of his race, 
 A wild swan with its snaky neck 
 
 Arched in unconscious grace, 
 With its white wings half unfolded. 
 
 As if winging from its place. 
 
 The youth addressed the men and maids 
 
 Who jested round the fire. 
 " You know," he said, " the time must come 
 
 Of a young chiefs desire.
 
 58 THE NEOLITHIC FARMER. 
 
 When he must win a wife, and bring 
 
 Her home unto his sire 
 To be a daughter of the tribe. 
 
 My years are now fulfilled ; 
 Wars have I seen, and proved not slow 
 
 When blood had to be spilled ; 
 And in the hunt, I was not last 
 
 When greatest prey was killed. 
 Nor are my trophies few or vain, 
 
 But such as need not shame 
 The daughter of a warrior 
 
 And chief of ancient name. 
 And riches I can add to hers, 
 
 And raise her father's fame." 
 
 His brethren heard, his purpose knew, 
 And all rose, well prepared 
 
 To follow to the homestead 
 The lovely maiden shared ; 
 
 But his blushing sister whispered 
 That a few spears should be spared. 
 
 She had come into the circle. 
 And the ruddy light displayed 
 
 Her agile form, in richest dress 
 Becomingly arrayed. 
 
 Her brother gazed, and smiled, and said, 
 " Then trap for trap is laid,"
 
 THE NEOLITHIC FARMER. 59 
 
 And a few spears stood behind her. 
 
 Then one brought from his store 
 A grimly sculptured mantle pin, 
 
 From white tusk of the boar ; 
 Another threw a jtring of shells 
 
 Her braided tresses o'er. 
 All with a gift surrounded her ; 
 
 And the young chieftain pressed 
 Upon his heart his sister-twin, 
 
 And tenderly caressed 
 Her trembling form, and prayed that she 
 
 Might be for ever blessed. 
 
 Then issued forth tfie ruler's son, 
 
 His warriors by his side. 
 And the thick forest paths pursued 
 
 With a lover's bounding stride ; 
 He knew his safe task was to take 
 
 An unreluctant bride. 
 His heart was glad, his look was bright ; 
 
 His sister in his ear 
 Had whispered that her capture 
 
 Would be by friendly spear — 
 The brother of the maiden 
 
 He had chosen for his dear. 
 
 High moon above the forest screen 
 Shed through its radiant light,
 
 6o THE NEOLITHIC FARMER. 
 
 And dappled all the grassy paths 
 
 With pictures dark and bright. 
 And in the open glades it showed 
 
 The red deer rise in flight, 
 As they heard the hunter's footfall. 
 
 But the wary brothafs passed ; 
 For though a proud head might have dropped 
 
 Beneath a well-poised cast, 
 The polished flint was saved until 
 
 A nobler quarry rose, 
 Whose slaughter would enhance the deed 
 
 Of capture at its close. 
 
 Then as they marched they reached the bank 
 
 Of a far winding stream ; 
 And skirting it, they reached a pool 
 
 Unfathomed, with the beam 
 Of summer night upon its breast. 
 
 And as they saw its gleam. 
 The warriors hid and stirred not, 
 
 But waited on the prey — 
 Some elk, or brawny urus. 
 
 Or brown bear on his way 
 To meet his matron and her cubs. 
 
 And lo ! their luck was good ; 
 A mighty fur beneath the moon 
 Stepped wary from the wood,
 
 THE NEOLITHIC FARMER. 6i 
 
 And closely passed the covert 
 Where the silent brothers stood. 
 
 Upon his haunches dropped the bear 
 
 And slily looked abroad ; 
 He passed his fore paw o'er his nose, 
 
 And gently seemed to nod ; 
 But his keen eyes and twitching ears 
 
 His wary nature showed. 
 
 The young chief drew his right hand back 
 
 To all its length, and threw 
 A strong lance ; with unerring aim, 
 
 It to the shoulder flew, 
 And struck beneath it, going deep ; 
 
 And then an arrow true 
 Sank in the neck. And with a roar 
 
 Of rage and mortal pain. 
 The brown skin rose, and snapped the lance, 
 
 And rushed and reared in vain ; 
 But as his mad eyes saw his foe, 
 
 Up to his feet again 
 He started, and rushed open-mouthed. 
 
 The chieftain, swift of foot, 
 Fled, and returned and swiftly smote 
 
 Once more the wounded brute. 
 And his savage days were ended. 
 
 His savage throat was mute.
 
 62 THE NEOLITHIC FARMER. 
 
 The young chief drew his jade axe, 
 
 And drove it through the head. 
 The brothers with their hunting knives 
 
 The right incisions made, 
 And tore the thick-furred hide from off 
 
 The white flesh of the dead. 
 
 They cached the meat and bore the fur, 
 
 As fitting morning gift 
 For the daughter of the homestead, 
 
 To whom, with hearts uphft. 
 They now pressed through the pathway 
 
 With footsteps Ught and swift. 
 
 They reached the clearing in the wood, 
 
 And for a moment stayed ; 
 They braced their belts and shook their spears. 
 
 And the young bridegroom prayed 
 And fingered o'er the keen edge 
 
 Of the old axe of jade. 
 
 Thrice barking hoarsely like the wolf — 
 
 The totem of the clan 
 Of the sweet bride — they heard returned 
 
 The notes of the wild swan; 
 Then through the clearing rushed they, 
 
 And a tumult great began.
 
 THE NEOLITHIC FARMER. 63 
 
 The half-tamed dogs gave tongue aloud, 
 
 And all the household woke ; 
 The ready youths had grasped their arms 
 
 Before their fathers spoke, 
 And the maidens tittered tenderly 
 
 As from the huts they broke. 
 
 They threw fresh fuel on the fires 
 
 To show the gay advance 
 Of the raiders in the clearance, 
 
 And they joined hands in a dance, 
 While the mimic fight around them, 
 
 With thrust of lance and lance, 
 And merry badinage went on. 
 
 But the chief was watching keen 
 For the fleet rush of his maiden — 
 
 She had not yet been seen. 
 
 His keen eye saw her passing 
 
 Through the wheat blade high and green 
 To the forest and the pathway : 
 
 Then his war-whoop sounded high. 
 His brethren pressed beside him, 
 
 And loud prolonged the cry. 
 And after the fair damsel 
 
 The loving one did fly. 
 In the ecstasy of capture ;
 
 64 THE NEOLITHIC FARMER. 
 
 But earnest was her flight. 
 The daughter of a chief must show 
 
 The coyness that is right 
 And by old usage measured. 
 
 So through the clear moonlight 
 She fled with speed, nor slackened 
 
 Till her lover, far ahead 
 Of the other laggard runners. 
 
 Touched her gently with his blade. 
 She stopped, and fell into his arms, 
 
 And on his bosom laid 
 Her panting breast, and wept, and cried, 
 
 " Thine am I ; I am won. 
 Thy captive sure, and I with thee 
 
 Till all our work is done 
 Will live with loved obedience 
 
 To our last setting sun." 
 
 With arms entwined, they slowly walked. 
 
 And ere his warriors came 
 They reached the pool where he had stalked 
 
 And killed the lordly game ; 
 And at its margin waited they. 
 
 Their young souls both aflame. 
 
 And soon beside them rest the youths. 
 And pleasant homage pay.
 
 THE NEOLITHIC FARMER. 65 
 
 And lo ! even as the happy group, 
 
 In conversation gay, 
 Relieve fatigues of conquest, 
 
 They hear, not far away 
 In the lone forest, gladsome sounds; 
 
 And on the other side 
 Of the bright moon-lit pool they saw 
 
 Another captive bride — 
 The sister of the chieftain 
 
 And her captor in his pride, 
 With his warriors around him. 
 
 Then the forest rang around 
 With loudest shouts of welcome, 
 
 And soon the camping ground 
 With a brave fire was smoking, 
 
 And the bear's meat was found. 
 The brides together cooked it. 
 
 And before the feast was done, 
 With wild music and wild dancing. 
 
 Arose the early sun. 
 His beams fell through the forest boughs 
 
 And reddened every one. 
 
 Stood forth the maiden conquerors. 
 And grasped each other's hand. 
 
 And the brides embraced each other 
 Amid the joyous band. 
 
 F
 
 66 THE NEOLITHIC FARMER. 
 
 And with many songs and blessings, 
 In voices deep and shrill, 
 
 They parted by the river-side, 
 And the forest fair was still; 
 
 The chiefs went to their homesteads. 
 Love's ritual to fulfil.
 
 THE EARLY MAN OF AFRICA.
 
 THE EARL Y MAiV OF AFRICA. 
 
 The. Mother-Queen of nations 
 
 Sits shackled on the Nile ; 
 What boots it though a friendly face, 
 
 Wearing a friendly smile, 
 Has pressed the fetters o'er her hand 
 
 But for a little while ? 
 
 She is impassive. Ages long 
 
 Have passed since she alone 
 Reigned mighty mistress of the world 
 
 Upon its oldest throne, 
 And wielded a wide sceptre 
 
 O'er nations now unknown. 
 The days of history began 
 
 When her great time had gone. 
 
 Greek, Latin conquerors had spoiled 
 Her riches, and had drawn 
 
 Deep from her soul of wisdom 
 Before the Christian dawn.
 
 70 THE EARLY MAN OF AFRICA. 
 
 The Assyrian before them 
 
 Had smote, and left the trace 
 Of barbarous ruin in his path ; 
 
 But nothing could efface — 
 Not Macedonia's phalanx, 
 
 Nor the all-subduing pace 
 Of the Imperial legions — 
 
 The greatness and the grace 
 Of the Mother-Queen of nations : 
 
 And her immortal dower 
 Of science, art, and wisdom, . 
 
 The thrice-redeeming power 
 That lifted up the ancient world; 
 
 Till with a crash it fell. 
 And the new world half savage rose 
 
 Beyond her mystic spell. 
 For like her mummies Egypt lay. 
 
 Deep swathed, and hidden well 
 From the dull eyes of the nations : 
 
 Her wisdom all forgot; 
 The clash of swords, the chaunt of monks, 
 
 The shrieks of men who sought 
 The hell on earth of holiness. 
 
 Drowned every ancient thought. 
 
 And when they ceased, the Arab came, 
 And for his Allah bore
 
 THE EARLY MAN OF AFRICA. 71 
 
 His bitter sword and torch of fire ; 
 
 And Egypt smote once more. 
 Trampling her ancient glory, 
 
 Scorning her ancient lore, 
 The bigots of the Prophet 
 
 Splashed blood on every door, 
 And subjugated timid souls 
 
 Beneath Islamic sway. 
 Thus under Turk and Arab heels 
 
 The glorious old land lay. 
 And lies, although the foot of strength 
 
 Grows feeble with decay. 
 
 Sublime it lies, that ancient land, 
 
 Its ruins all around 
 Of megalithic structure, 
 
 With sacred symbols crowned. 
 Revealing a long earnest faith. 
 
 Far reaching and profound — 
 The high peak of the culture 
 
 The human race had won. 
 In ancient times, the while all tribes 
 
 Of lands beneath the sun, 
 Were savage and untutored. 
 
 And had not yet begun 
 To learn the arts of rising life, 
 
 Nor from the Seen to draw
 
 72 THE EARLY MAN OF AFRICA. 
 
 ( 
 
 True lessons subtle, simple, 
 And worship draped with awe, 
 
 Nor to seek in the reflecting soul, 
 Philosophy and law. 
 
 Egypt, dumb upon the Nile, 
 
 Unknowing and unknown 
 By the faiths that rose around her, 
 
 Sat on her ruined throne ; 
 The mistress of the secrets 
 
 Of rites were hers alone. 
 The outward husks were fondled, 
 
 By nations that had gi"own 
 In the spell of her enchantments, 
 
 Of her multi-pictured gods ; 
 But they reached not to the mysteries 
 
 Behind the ancient modes. 
 Nor caught the sacred meaning, 
 
 In the myths the meaning showed ; 
 
 For from the far-extending past 
 
 This ancient people drew. 
 By insight and reflecting soul, 
 
 From rude thoughts, thoughts that grew 
 To wondrous wisdom and forecast 
 
 Of worships, old and new. 
 Creed secrets of this ancient race 
 
 Still rise before our view;
 
 THE EARLY MAN OF AFRICA. 73 
 
 We know them, and we own them, 
 
 We feel them with the thrill 
 Of a conscious discovery, 
 
 As if no soul until 
 Our own had guessed their meaning ; 
 
 And faiths that know no past 
 Beyond their own foreshadowing, 
 
 In mysteries dim and vast 
 Out of the superhuman sphere. 
 
 Are high reflections cast 
 From Egypt's hallowed symbols, — 
 
 The evoluted strain, 
 Of mighty thoughts, that from the old 
 
 The new had in the grain, 
 And shape and fashion as it may, 
 
 It ever must retain, 
 In ever-blooming essence. 
 
 Thus on the flowing Nile, 
 For ages, with her brooding face 
 
 And tantalising smile, 
 The Mother-Queen sits lonely. 
 
 And hearing all the while 
 The hush of the great river. 
 
 And its annual overflow. 
 That hath never ceased in all the years 
 
 To all the seeds that grow
 
 74 THE EARLY MAN OF AFRICA. 
 
 To yield the fertilising force ; 
 And blessing men who sow 
 With certainty of increase. 
 
 Chief goddess it was deemed 
 Of all the rivers of the earth 
 
 That to the ocean streamed ; 
 And for its sources, noble souls 
 
 Have fought and toiled and dreamed, 
 And died afar in savage wilds 
 
 Ere yet upon them beamed 
 The mighty shed of country 
 
 Where the hidden fountain flows — 
 The secret that for ages long 
 
 Research could not disclose. 
 
 But the wide stream has glidden on, 
 
 In flood and in repose, 
 With procreative splendour, 
 
 And to an empire's seat 
 Has borne its waves of blessing 
 
 Under Osirian heat, 
 And bears them to the ruins 
 
 The spoilers made complete. 
 
 Whence came this ancient culture? 
 From what far distant clime? —
 
 THE EARLY MAN OF AFRICA. 75 
 
 From Ethiopia of the gods, 
 
 When gods were in their prime ? 
 
 Or from Afric's distant regions, 
 Untravelled to our time? 
 
 What tribe first issued conquering. 
 
 And after years of strife 
 Struck its deep roots of empire 
 
 Beside the stream of life? 
 
 WTio knows ? No sage instructs us, 
 
 No hieroglyphics tell, 
 Of the first streaks of the glory 
 
 That on the Delta fell, 
 When to the watered plain there came 
 
 A mighty race to dwell ; 
 And through forgotten centuries 
 
 Of fiercest warfare strove 
 To keep their fertile strip of soil. 
 
 The blooming field and grove, 
 From plundering tribes around them. 
 
 Till by their strength they grew 
 And became the cultured nation 
 
 That the oldest nations knew — 
 The sources of this primal race 
 
 Lie far beyond our view. 
 
 Not forbidden is a vision, 
 If the vision may be free,
 
 76 THE EARLY MAN OF AFRICA. 
 
 Of the virgin land's subduers 
 
 In the far antiquity, 
 If it shapes and bodies out in full 
 
 What earnest dreams may see. 
 
 A vision only ; let it come 
 
 From an unnumbered age, 
 And by the Nile's slow-rolling stream. 
 
 Through leagues of swamp and sedge. 
 In regions where the torrid sun 
 
 Bears down with sweltering rage 
 Upon the thirsty land ; or hides 
 
 Behind a clouded sky 
 While the warm rain pours ardently 
 
 Until its springs are dry. 
 And the soaked ground steams slowly 
 
 By the soil's heat on high, 
 
 t, Through weeks and months a steady stream, 
 
 Till the great affluents roar 
 In swollen floods, and in the Nile 
 
 Abundant volumes pour 
 Of turbid water, raising high 
 
 The river, till it flows 
 Majestic o'er its sedgy banks ; 
 
 And roused from long repose. 
 Sweeps swiftly onward all its length. 
 
 And gaining as it goes,
 
 THE EARLY MAN OF AFRICA. 77 
 
 From Abyssinian uplands, 
 
 O'erwhelms, before its close 
 In earth's mid-sea, by many mouths, 
 
 Eg}'ptian flats of sand, 
 And in its gradual fall lays down 
 
 Fat on the barren land. 
 
 Here in this sun-burnt, rainy clime, 
 
 The swollen river brings 
 New sustenance to every herb 
 
 That on its drainage springs, 
 And the reviving rains impart 
 
 Fresh vigour to all things. 
 
 The sun breaks from the clouds again. 
 
 And green and golden earch 
 Smiles in its tropic beauty. 
 
 The beauty of a birth 
 New from the womb of Nature. 
 
 The grass springs sweet and fresh. 
 And brings wild herds to pasture 
 
 To repair their famished flesh. 
 
 The starred camelopard lifts up 
 His long neck from the ground. 
 
 His mouth moist Avith the savoury crop, 
 As if he heard around
 
 78 THE EARLY MAN OF AFRICA. 
 
 In his high ears a distant growl 
 
 Or unaccustomed sound. 
 The hart-beeste, deer, and buffalo, 
 
 Swarm on the verdant sward ; 
 And the trumpet of the elephant 
 
 In the low swamp is heard. 
 Long after sundown as he sports ; 
 
 And rising on his guard, 
 The long snout of the crocodile, 
 
 With evil eyes, is seen 
 On the edges of the river ; 
 
 His teeth are white and clean, 
 His appetite is raging, 
 
 And his belly long and lean. 
 
 And the huge head of the hippo 
 Rises on the river's flowj 
 
 Great mouthed and ponderous of neck, 
 » He heeds and fears no foe ; 
 
 And he wallows, happy in the flood. 
 With instincts dull and low. 
 
 And the sweet springing of the grass 
 Brings other brutes beside, 
 
 Following the fattening prey ; 
 The lion ranging wide, 
 
 And stalking softly on a paw 
 That tears the hardest hide;
 
 THE EARLY MAN OF AFRICA. 79 
 
 He lurks near to the river 
 
 In a covert in the night, 
 He takes his ease of plunder, 
 
 And shuns the open fight. 
 Lord of all brutes, like other lords, 
 
 He is lazy in his might. 
 And only gathers up his strength 
 
 When forced by appetite. 
 
 And flesh-devourers follow him, 
 
 Of lesser bulk and power, 
 But with his stealthy tread of paw 
 
 And skill of place and hour, 
 With the same pain of hunger 
 
 And instinct to devour 
 The timorous grass-feeders. 
 
 And man too, follows fast, 
 Upon the sweet-fleshed wanderers. 
 
 And makes his long repast — 
 After keen toil of hunting, 
 
 With heavy spoil at last — 
 Upon the fat and tender limbs, 
 
 Cooked by the red firelight, 
 Beneath a widely branching tree 
 
 Towering into the night. 
 Where his grass hut of rest is raised, 
 
 His rest of calm delight, 
 And eager dalliance after chase.
 
 8o THE EARLY MAN OF AFRICA. 
 
 On such a scene we look, 
 Far in the by-gone ages, 
 
 As we see it in the book 
 Of some enduring traveller, 
 
 Who yesterday forsook 
 His home and kindred, high in hope 
 
 That lands unknown before, 
 By white feet never visited, 
 
 He should visit and explore; 
 For in these sunny regions 
 
 The change that passes o'er, 
 In centuries and millenniums, 
 
 The people and their ways 
 Is as the shadow, for they live 
 
 Lives of the ancient days; 
 And habits hoar with age survive 
 
 Without a touch of change. 
 No rudely civilising tread, 
 
 No progress, fast and strange, 
 Disturb the tribes of Africa, 
 
 In their secluded range. 
 
 A broken tribe has gathered 
 
 Beneath the village tree. 
 To mourn their loss of battle, 
 
 And the friends who could not flee
 
 THE EARLY MAN OF AFRICA. 8i 
 
 From the red hour of slaughter 
 And the powerful enemy. 
 
 O'er-mastered, they had scattered, 
 
 Before a strong assault, 
 But not before brave warriors 
 
 Had made their final halt, 
 Some dead in peace, and others bound 
 
 In slave thongs — hapless they ! 
 For never more should they return 
 
 To freedom's blessed day. 
 To wives and friends and offspring, 
 
 And the headman's easy sway. 
 
 Arose up sobs of agony, 
 
 As the chief arranged the clan, 
 And called out of his memory 
 
 Each warrior, man by man. 
 And pronounced his blessing on the dead. 
 
 And captives, stricken sore 
 With hurts from assegai and club ; 
 
 No women to bend o'er 
 Their wounded miseries, and soothe 
 
 Their pains, and with the lore 
 Of healing herbs to help them. 
 
 But the chief, as it became 
 A leader of his people, 
 And the bearer of a name
 
 82 THE EARLY MAN OF AFRICA. 
 
 In Other days was known afar, 
 
 With honour and with fame, 
 Cheered up his remnant warriors, 
 
 And the women by their side, 
 The waiHng wife of captive, 
 
 The widow, and the bride ; 
 With sympathy he cheered them, 
 
 And words of hopeful pride. 
 
 No common Afric headman 
 
 Was he ; but one of men 
 Seen rarely among nations. 
 
 One who comes, and not again 
 Till the times have ripened for him, 
 
 And fit work is for him then. 
 
 Of rounded front, and wistful eyes, 
 
 That shone as if they saw 
 Into the doubtful future, 
 
 Nor could the gaze withdraw, 
 As though the soul were wrapt away 
 
 In spheres of darkened awe. 
 Clear olive his complexion. 
 
 And from his great front fell 
 Thin locks of raven darkness ; 
 
 Smooth-cheeked and chinned ; the swell 
 And gentle fall of large fair lips 
 
 Persuasive speech foretell.
 
 THE EARL Y MAN OF AFRICA. 83 
 
 Head taller than his warriors, 
 And barely past his prime, 
 
 He stood before his broken tribe, 
 The Prophet of his time, 
 
 The Reformer of religion 
 In his age and in his clime. 
 
 The martyr's struggles he endured, 
 
 Since from his early youth. 
 Profoundly musing, he proclaimed 
 
 His new faith as the truth. 
 Of men here, and hereafter ; 
 
 And with the Prophet's sooth, 
 In fiery words of vengeance 
 
 He doomed the ancient creed 
 Of Fetishes innumerable 
 
 For every sordid need. 
 And as he prophesied he knew. 
 
 And counted without heed 
 Of his own life, the penalties, 
 
 The pains, and bitter war. 
 His new faith would awaken 
 
 His noble aims to mar. 
 
 And hardest fate of all he saw 
 His kinsmen move afar.
 
 84 THE EARLY MAN OF AFRICA. 
 
 And Anth them many warriors 
 Who erst beneath his sway 
 
 Followed him with loyalty 
 As in his father's day ; 
 
 But now in firm adhesion, 
 To the old ways went they. 
 
 High truth consoled him, and the hope 
 That truth would yet prevail 
 
 Among the dusky tribes of Nile, 
 And in its might assail 
 
 Their darkened souls and scatter wide 
 The errors of the vale. 
 
 But the prophet's doom awaited him — 
 
 The doom that since the race 
 Of human kind made worship 
 
 To thing, or form, or place. 
 Has befallen every prophet 
 
 Endowed with godly grace, 
 And who sets his face undaunted 
 
 Against deities debased 
 And the worship hard and brutal 
 
 That human reason crazed — 
 The fate of bitter hatred, 
 
 Of priests aroused, amazed. 
 
 So found this ancient leader ; 
 As his ardent genius rose
 
 THE EARLY MAN OF AFRICA. 85 
 
 With the impulse of true vision, 
 More hateful grew his foes, 
 
 Till round about his faithful tribe 
 Destruction seemed to close. 
 
 Despised, rejected, scouted, scorned, 
 
 His teaching fell within 
 The faithful few, that followed him 
 
 With soul and heart akin ; 
 They were children of his anguish, 
 
 Soul-born to him and dear. 
 And nurtured by him gently, 
 
 And now he felt the fear 
 Of the unsuccessful teacher. 
 
 With evil drawing near ; 
 For the enemy swarmed round him : 
 
 Then rose he, and with hand 
 Extended to his followers, 
 
 In jesture to command 
 Their keen attention, thus he spoke : 
 
 " My people, understand 
 How we are placed among our foes, 
 
 In this our fatherland. 
 No hope is there of conquest ; 
 
 We are broken, and before 
 To-morrow's glowing sun has set, 
 
 If fighting, we implore
 
 86 THE EARLY MAN OF AFRICA. 
 
 Our gods to aid us, we shall be 
 A little band no more. 
 
 But the gods who watch above us, 
 
 And all our counsels know. 
 Come to me in their radiance, 
 
 And a hopeful vision show ; 
 And they tell me of a future. 
 
 They can alone bestow. 
 
 We must rise and leave our dwelling-place, 
 And down the stream of Nile 
 
 Pursue, through many days and weeks, 
 Our weary way with wile, 
 
 So that our hateful enemies 
 We may by haste beguile. 
 
 A region distant and unknown 
 
 The gods for us hath set; 
 And we shall find it, though afar — 
 
 No people claim it yet. 
 And there our huts in peace shall rise, 
 
 And we shall there beget 
 A nation vanquishing and great; 
 
 And propagating pure 
 The revelation of our faith, 
 
 That ever must endure ; 
 And the dark children of our foes, 
 
 Our children shall allure
 
 THE EARLY MAN OF AFRICA. 87 
 
 To the high worship they have scorned. 
 
 And empire shall be theirs — 
 Our children's children — empire vast, 
 
 And with it, empire's cares, 
 And the large energetic strength 
 
 That plans, and does, and dares. 
 
 To this the vision calls us 
 
 By no uncertain call. 
 Our gods are with us, and they leave 
 
 Our kindred races, all ; 
 They go with us, and promise us 
 
 Great gain for losses small : 
 
 And in the land where we shall rest, 
 
 Still larger sights of truth, 
 To cherish in our secret souls. 
 
 And show them to our youth ; 
 Till even darkest mysteries 
 
 Glow with reflected light 
 From, the faces of the Highest Ones, 
 
 Who guard us day and night. 
 And will with shadowing wings surround 
 
 The progress of our flight. 
 
 Clear is the vision in my soul. 
 
 My followers, let us rise. 
 And to the dear protecting gods 
 
 Make early sacrifice ;
 
 88 THE EARLY MAN OF AFRICA. 
 
 Bathe and anoint yourselves, and arm 
 For this our great emprise." 
 
 The people as they listened felt 
 The chiefs words fall like rain 
 
 Upon the withered meadows, 
 Reviving them again ; 
 
 Fresh hopes rose up within them, 
 And joy succeeded pain. 
 
 They saw the vision in his eyes ; 
 
 They caught it in their hearts, 
 And every bosom burned to seek 
 
 Its glorious counterparts — 
 Its land of rest and victory, 
 
 Its long enduring days, 
 And revelations luminous 
 
 To the seer and sage's gaze, 
 And the wealth of fame and fortune 
 
 No mortal could appraise. 
 
 They shouted underneath the tree, 
 
 To mighty gods they swore 
 That through the hardest toil and strife, 
 
 Afflicted, beaten, sore, 
 They yet would follow while the chief 
 
 Led onward to explore
 
 THE EARLY MAN OF AFRICA. 89 
 
 The new land of the future, 
 With blessings at its shore. 
 
 So sunk to rest the people ; 
 
 And before the short-lived dawn 
 Reddened upon the huts, the chief 
 
 Arose, and, Nileward drawn 
 In anxious contemplation. 
 
 Maintained his great design. 
 For the vision still before him 
 
 Shone steady and divine ; 
 And he waited for no omen, 
 
 And no other heavenly sign. 
 
 As high priest of his people, 
 
 He passed the sacred knife 
 Across the chosen victim's throat 
 
 And gave the god of life — 
 Osiris the redeemer, 
 
 The conqueror in strife — 
 The gushing blood, and burnt the fat 
 
 That clings around the thighs, 
 A fragrant offering to the god, 
 
 Who bids the sun arise ; 
 And all the people gathered round 
 
 To see the sacrifice. 
 
 And then a pillar stone was borne. 
 And sunk deep in the soil ;
 
 90 THE EARLY MAN OF AFRICA. 
 
 And softly on its top he poured 
 
 The consecrated oil. 
 To Isis, Mother of the world, 
 
 The sacred stone was reared, 
 And the high priest proclaimed the spot 
 
 Ever to be revered. 
 Even as the place where paradise 
 
 Upon the sight appeared. 
 
 All fared then to the flowing Nile, 
 
 And drew down from its shore 
 Their slender boats, and filled them fast 
 
 With women sobbing sore. 
 And children with their wondering eyes, 
 
 That yet would wonder more 
 Before the land of rest was won. 
 
 And when the chief and queen 
 Stepped in their barge of state, and gave 
 
 A signal, that was seen 
 By all the warriors, every oar 
 
 Dipped in the water's sheen. 
 
 With the first movement of the boats, 
 The sun through vap'rous haze 
 
 Burst in exceeding splendour, 
 And shot his level rays, 
 
 Till, flooded with the molten light. 
 The river was a-blaze.
 
 THE EARLY MAN OF AFRICA. 91 
 
 And every soul was gladdened 
 
 At the omen ; and relieved 
 The rower dropped his heavy pull, 
 
 Arid every bosom heaved 
 A sigh, that swelled into a shout. 
 
 The chiefs eyes fill with light, 
 Shining through teardrops, gathered 
 
 During the gloom of night, 
 And high his solemn voice arose : 
 
 " We do depart in sight 
 Of Osiris all prevailing." 
 
 Then again the oars were plied, 
 And merrily sang the warriors, 
 
 As down the flowing tide 
 The light canoes swept onward 
 
 With the river swift and wide. 
 
 By sundown many leagues were won. 
 
 And full of hope they drew 
 Their craft into a wooded creek, 
 
 A grateful rest in view; 
 The fires were lit, and supper spread, 
 
 And garrulous all grew. 
 
 The first rest on a journey 
 Who does not celebrate?
 
 92 THE EARLY MAN OF AFRICA. 
 
 And though their hmbs were weary, 
 
 Their hearts were full and great ; 
 And far into the solemn night, 
 
 The husband and his mate, 
 Young men and maids and children, 
 
 In joyaunce danced around 
 The fire-lit trunks of ancient trees. 
 
 To the entrancing sound 
 Of their own melodious voices 
 
 On unfamiliar ground. 
 
 Then when the rest was over. 
 
 And the boats re-stored with meat, 
 By the huntsmen's skill provided. 
 
 Rowed on the exploring fleet ; 
 Still onward with the river, 
 
 With its calms and currents sweet. 
 So days, and weeks, and months were passed, 
 
 Nor met they any foe; 
 The gods had smoothed their journey 
 
 In the way that they should go. 
 
 But the river had its dangers, 
 
 That were only overborne 
 By long fatigue and courage 
 
 And patience, never worn 
 To impatience and disaster, 
 
 In the griefs of night and morn.
 
 THE EARLY MAN OF AFRICA. 93 
 
 A waterway had to be cut 
 
 Through miles of fertile weeds, 
 Netting with bush luxuriance 
 
 From bank to bank the reeds, 
 And sedges on the flattened shore, 
 
 Where fatal fever breeds. 
 
 Nor passed they scatheless through the swamps; 
 
 The children drooped or died; 
 And shivering mothers passed away; 
 
 And strong men, as they plied 
 Their cutting tools to clear the path, 
 
 Fell wearily aside, 
 O'ercome with lethargy and pain. 
 
 And when at last was seen 
 The unencumbered Nile flow free. 
 
 Through meadows large and green, 
 With far extending ranges 
 
 Of forests for their screen, 
 The toilers weened that there at last 
 
 Was reached the fertile land 
 For which the pilgrimage began. 
 
 And there the pilgrim band 
 Raised huts, and settled hopefully, 
 
 As if ever to remain. 
 
 But the foreseeing chief saw not 
 The land they should obtain,
 
 94 THE EARLY MAN OF AFRICA. 
 
 The region that in vision 
 Was mapped upon his brain. 
 
 But the warriors were weary, 
 And the people, travel-tired, 
 
 Found in the meads and hunting grounds 
 All that their hearts admired — 
 
 A land of wealth and fatness, 
 And much to be desired. 
 
 And there the tribes for years abode, 
 
 Increasing with the years. 
 Till hoary grew the prophet. 
 
 With age and hopes and fears; 
 For he knew the gods had ordered 
 
 A home of greater scope 
 For his people's rising energy. 
 
 And the empire of his hope ; 
 And he dreaded fate unhappy. 
 
 It was ever in his eye — 
 That when prosperous days were ended 
 
 There would come the battle-cry 
 Of savages unnumbered. 
 
 In the might of victory. 
 
 Yet while peace was on the commune 
 
 His soul, enlarging, sought 
 To teach his people all he knew, 
 
 Before the world of thought,
 
 THE EARLY MAN OF AFRICA. 95 
 
 Unfleshed and pure, enrobed his soul, 
 And dead, he was forgot. 
 
 Thus he taught them rules of conduct, 
 
 And laws to them declared, 
 Of worship to the mighty gods, 
 
 By all the people shared; 
 And truths of loftier wisdom 
 
 He taught to men prepared 
 By hidden lessons to receive 
 
 The patriarch's inner light, — 
 The light that he had gained from dreams, 
 
 And visions of the night. 
 And lonely contemplations. 
 
 In the forests out of si^ht. 
 
 '&* 
 
 So passed the years ; and lo ! at last 
 
 The chief's soothsaying came. 
 And round the wide encampment broke 
 
 The woe of blood and flame. 
 Wild Africans surrounded them, 
 
 Of evil name and fame ; 
 And famous battles there were fought, 
 
 Till victory was won 
 By the people of the prophet, 
 
 The children of the sun. 
 But many warriors were slain ; 
 
 And peace at last was bought
 
 96 THE EARLY MAN OF AFRICA. 
 
 With the exorbitance of cost 
 That wakened bitter thought; 
 
 And the forewarnings of the chief 
 Back to the tribe were brought. 
 
 The people clamoured to be led 
 
 Far from the fertile plain, 
 Where they had flourished mightily 
 
 And purposed to remain — 
 Where they had raised their altars 
 
 And sanctified their slain, 
 To the true land of promise ; 
 
 The chief rejoicing heard, 
 And called the tribe to muster 
 
 To hear his latest word ; 
 For a vision was upon him, 
 
 And his aged heart was stirred. 
 
 He addressed them : — " Sons and children, 
 
 I am weary, let us go; 
 And before the gods of silence. 
 
 The Enlighteners, bestow 
 Their holy seal upon my lips, 
 
 My parting vision know. 
 This land is not awarded us;- 
 
 We must rise and follow far 
 The windings of the river ; 
 
 Its children dear we are.
 
 THE EARLY MAN OF AFRICA. 97 
 
 We must feed out of its bosom, 
 
 We must settle where the shore 
 Lies green in its caresses, 
 
 And its breadth is studded o'er 
 With isles of cloudless beauty ; 
 
 There your gods shall evermore 
 Remain with you and guide you, 
 
 And greatness shall be yours. 
 And your children following after ; 
 
 All that the soul allures — 
 The soul, with wisdom girded — 
 
 Your destiny secures. 
 
 Fain would I see the landing, 
 
 Fain would I consecrate 
 Among my havened people, 
 
 By solemn rites of state, 
 Their first touch on the kingdom 
 
 Their wisdom shall create. 
 
 But otherwise the gods decree, 
 
 And ere you reach your home, 
 Death, and immortal life in death. 
 
 Beyond the arching dome 
 Of earth, in the untainted sphere, 
 
 Shall call me, as you see 
 The fulfilment of the promise. 
 
 And if your chief may be 
 
 H
 
 98 THE EARLY MAN OF AFRICA. 
 
 Loved and revered, bear to that land- 
 
 His visions eagerly 
 Revealed with ever growing strength — 
 
 His soulless corpse, and there 
 Entomb it on a hallowed spot, 
 
 With tribal rites and prayer; 
 So that still among his people 
 
 He may dead their greatness share, 
 And await the resurrection 
 
 At the final day of life. 
 But we tarry, sons and children; 
 
 Let us shun the savage knife. 
 And once more on the river 
 
 Pursue the end of strife." 
 
 His words were as the verdict 
 Of the gods supreme and wise ; 
 
 And the people with approving voice 
 And open, glittering eyes, 
 
 Bowed all before the prophet, 
 
 And acclaimed, with ardent cries, 
 
 The decision of their father ; 
 
 Then the village was despoiled 
 By the women and the children ; 
 
 Laboriously they toiled, 
 In bearing to the river banks 
 
 The treasures of the clan.
 
 THE EARLY MAN OF AFRICA. 99 
 
 And when at length the long canoes 
 
 Were freighted and began 
 The voyage slowly from the shore, 
 
 A red light fiercely ran 
 Along the huts and burnt them up ; 
 
 And desolation spread 
 Over all the grassy meadows, 
 
 And upon the forest shed 
 A glare of smoke and glory, 
 
 Till in ashes glowing red 
 The pleasant homes of many years 
 
 Lay in ruin dark and dead. 
 
 So on the stream they passed away, 
 
 The chosen folk, to find 
 The land of promise and of faith 
 
 The seer had in his mind ; 
 And on the Nile's enlarging stream 
 
 Long days of sunlight shined, 
 And many moons revealed their light 
 
 In crescent form and round, 
 In fullest splendour and delight, 
 
 Hailed with the happy sound 
 Of singing voices, while the boats 
 
 Drew lightsomely aground 
 To rest until the dawning day. 
 
 No enemy they found ;
 
 loo THE EARLY MAN OF AFRICA. 
 
 And the old chief revived, and felt 
 
 As if he should not die 
 Till the land of his fair visions 
 
 Rose bright upon his eye. 
 But, alas ! the gods had claimed him. 
 
 And his hallowed end was nigh. 
 
 They passed the raging cataracts 
 
 And settled on the stream 
 Of mighty Nile, withdrawing 
 
 Beneath the potent beam 
 Of the procreant god's down-pouring 
 
 That swells the soil to team 
 With a luxuriant promise 
 
 Of harvest. 
 
 But, behold, 
 They saw their passage blocked with boats, 
 
 And ready to enfold 
 Their laden fleet, and work it woe. 
 
 Then heaven-inspired, the chief 
 Rose stately, and commanded 
 
 A pause, observant, brief, 
 And to the strongest manned, he cried, 
 
 "Strike hard for our relief"
 
 THE EARLY MAN OF AFRICA. loi 
 
 On went the boats, and to the chain, 
 
 That hung frona both the banks. 
 The foremost warriors drove with force 
 
 And clove its battled ranks, 
 Hurling the spear and striking down 
 
 Wherever showed a face ; 
 And through the wide ensanguined cleft, 
 
 With oars of rapid pace, 
 The others followed, striking death 
 
 In their victorious race. 
 
 And all had passed with little loss, 
 And formed again with skill, 
 
 For well they knew the enemy, 
 Would work them bitter ill 
 
 If they should flee before them ; 
 But they dared to face him stilL 
 
 Then slowly wheeled the broken fleet. 
 
 And down upon them bore ; 
 A tall, dark chieftain led it on ; 
 
 His boat flew swift before 
 His followers ; and as it neared, 
 
 His quick eyes glancing o'er 
 The brave front of the victors, 
 
 Saw in the barge of state 
 The aged chief and prophet
 
 I02 THE EARL Y MAN OF AFRICA. 
 
 Rise valiant and great ; 
 And from his right hand launched he 
 
 A spear of evil fate, 
 For it pierced the vestured bosom 
 
 Of the prophet, and he fell, 
 Death-stricken 'mid his warriors ; 
 
 Then arose a savage yell, 
 And a rush as if to victory. 
 
 But, behold ! an awful spell 
 Arrested both opposing fleets. 
 
 Unsteady from the cast 
 Of the death-dealing spear, the chief 
 
 Swung from his footing fast. 
 And in the Nile's blue bosom. 
 
 He sank, doomed and aghast ; 
 
 For as he rose and spread his arms, 
 
 A monster's jaws upreared 
 Above the water by his side, 
 
 And cruelly they neared, 
 Till with a sudden snap they tore 
 
 His flesh, and disappeared. 
 
 The fight was done ; the fleets withdrew. 
 And down the ancient stream 
 
 The chosen people bore with grief 
 Their seer, till evening's beam
 
 THE EARLY MAN OF AFRICA. 103 
 
 Found them a landing, and they laid 
 
 His body, in the gleam 
 Of bright Egyptian stars, beneath 
 
 A date tree's fertile boughs ; 
 They dressed it, and embalmed it, 
 
 And they swore their sacred vows, 
 Above the grave in the new land, 
 
 Now found and ever won — 
 The teeming soil of Egypt — 
 
 Beneath unclouded sun.
 
 THE ARYAN MIGRATION.
 
 THE ARYAN MIGRATION. 
 
 The camp-fires had been lighted, 
 
 Along the river-side, 
 The horses had been hobbled, 
 
 And the oxen scattered wide, 
 To feed on the sweet grass and herbs 
 
 The meads and bluffs supplied. 
 
 The maids had drawn the udders 
 
 Of the patient, laden kine, 
 And the men had milked the glossy mares 
 
 With pressure quick and fine. 
 And had stored the precious liquid — 
 
 Their nectar, most divine. 
 
 The evening meal was ready 
 
 Round many smoking fires. 
 And the wanderers drew thither 
 
 To assuage their sharp desires — 
 The rising youths and maidens, 
 
 Lords, wives, and great grandsires.
 
 io8 THE ARYAN MIGRATION. 
 
 From the upland plains of Asia — 
 The great herd-breeding plains, 
 
 The homes of their forefathers, 
 Where rest their dear remains — 
 
 The travellers had wandered 
 To realms the Danaii drains, 
 
 For westward pressed they onward. 
 
 The roving spirit grew, 
 Even as they marched at easy pace, 
 
 With many a halt in view, 
 In fertile tracts and clearings, 
 
 In forests, old and new. 
 
 •S-^j 
 
 Long years before they left the home 
 That nursed their roaming race ; 
 
 None but the oldest patriarch 
 Could recollect the place : 
 
 But their home was in their worship 
 And their kindred in their face. 
 
 Their language and devotions 
 
 The Aryan true revealed. 
 Foremost of all the tribes of men, 
 
 In wisdom and in build; 
 None equalled these bright Easterlings 
 
 In courage on the field.
 
 THE ARYAN MIGRATION. 109 
 
 Unmatched their stately women 
 
 For beauty and for grace, 
 Clean-limbed and lofty-featured, 
 
 A sweet soul in their face; 
 It looked out of their hazel eyes, 
 
 And on their brows had place. 
 They were mothers of great nations 
 
 Still beneath the belt of Time, 
 Though they wandered unforgotten 
 
 Through many a changing clime ; 
 And history reveals them not 
 
 In primal prose and rhyme. 
 
 All had gathered round the camp-fires ; 
 
 But before the evening meal 
 They adore the fires that leap upright. 
 
 And in their flames conceal 
 The spirit of a mighty god : 
 
 To him they make appeal. 
 
 The melted butter on a stone 
 They pour, and as the flame 
 
 Mounts skyward to the starry night 
 Arose the loud acclaim 
 
 Of all the wanderers ; for the god 
 Was by his ancient name
 
 no THE ARYAN MIGRATION. 
 
 Saluted, and had answered them — 
 First in the clouded light, 
 
 Then in the pure and smokeless blaze 
 That leapt into the night. 
 
 And then the evening meal was shared 
 By all with great delight; 
 
 Rude meal of cakes and flesh and milk 
 
 The people satisfied ; 
 And from old skins the Koumiss 
 
 Was ardently untied — 
 Drunk deeply by the elders, 
 
 And cautiously supplied 
 To the middle-aged and younger. 
 
 New joys rise in their hearts, 
 And vigour to the weary limbs 
 
 The blessbd juice imparts; 
 
 And the long, warm day's journey, 
 
 With all its evil fare. 
 Is forgotten in the pleasure 
 
 Of the vanquisher of care. 
 The old men's tongues were loosened. 
 
 And their speech was large and fair ; 
 It drew the young men round them ; 
 
 And the women, fond to hear, 
 Sat around the tent doors listening, 
 
 With a smile and with a tear.
 
 THE ARYAN MIGRATION. m 
 
 For the talk Avas of the distant home, 
 So far away, and dear. 
 
 The tale was of their grandsires, 
 
 The grandsons of a Shah, 
 RenoAvned for power and riches, 
 
 Enforcement of wise law. 
 And holy reverence of the gods 
 
 Who rule us all in awe — 
 (Who from the heaven above us. 
 
 And from the heaven beneath, 
 Determine all our coming fates, 
 
 And wrap them in a sheathe 
 Of leaves, from the green Life Trees ; 
 
 Or gloomily enwreathe 
 Dark fate in leaves of winter - 
 
 That on the Death Trees grow) ; 
 How the young men with their father 
 
 Looked round the land ; and lo ! 
 They knew the gods ordained them 
 
 From the old home to go. 
 
 Their father and their kindred 
 
 Filled all the fertile plain, 
 The valleys, and the mountain slopes- 
 
 A spacious fair domain 
 And the herds of horse and cattle 
 
 Innumerable, retain
 
 1 1 2 THE ARYAN MIGRA TION. 
 
 The far-extending pastures. 
 
 But the younger sons had wed — 
 Already round their tent doors 
 
 Their healthy offspring spread ; 
 The land became too small for them 
 
 Though loved and cherished. 
 
 " My sons," the wise King counselled, 
 
 " You see we cannot thrive. 
 Unless the family yields to fate 
 
 Another swarming hive : 
 For your fast-growing girls and boys 
 
 Will husband and will wive ; 
 Herds they must rear, and feed them — 
 
 And where in all this land ? 
 But the world is wide for you and yours. 
 
 By the Father-God's command, 
 You may rise and take your portion 
 
 And keep it by your hand ; 
 
 And the favour of the gods will go 
 
 Along with you, and cheer 
 Your marches till you find a home, 
 
 Far, far away, or near 
 The ancient pastures of our race ; 
 
 There you will proudly rear 
 Great families of kinsfolk 
 
 My eyes shall never see ;
 
 THE ARYAN MIGRATION. n^ 
 
 But Varuna overlooks us all 
 
 And Indra sheds down free 
 His glowing procreative heat 
 
 Beneath earth's canopy. 
 Your cows shall yield their increase, 
 
 Your mares on other soil 
 Shall suckle healthy foals, and yield 
 
 The sweetener of toil ; 
 And the stubborn land shall be subdued 
 
 And give you com and oil. 
 
 But remember, oh ! my children, 
 
 The land from whence you sprung. 
 And the gods your fathers worshipped 
 
 Since the days the race was young. 
 And teach your children's children 
 
 The hymns that we have sung ; 
 Make them bow down at the dawning 
 
 When the Usherers of the day 
 Touch the mountain-tops with beauty, 
 
 Or through the forest stray ; 
 And teach them meek obeisance 
 
 When the Sun-god bursts away 
 From the foes that gather round him 
 
 And his glorious car of light ; 
 Let them pour the holy offering 
 
 At the coming of the night. 
 
 I
 
 114 THE ARYAN MIGRATION. 
 
 When the Sky-god wields his thunder 
 And disperses arrows bright, 
 
 Let them tremble and adore him, 
 And amid the Commune raise 
 
 An altar to appease him. 
 
 In the old unchanging ways, 
 
 At morning ere the day's darg 
 
 Is entered on, upraise 
 The song of the great Rishis', 
 
 And let all the women sing, 
 And the children, till to heaven 
 
 The mingled voices wing ; 
 Then shall the song all blessings 
 ^ On the long day's labour bring. 
 
 And remember, children of my loins, 
 
 To Agni ever pour 
 The sacred butter clarified — 
 
 To Agni, who of yore 
 Was the sole god to meet with us 
 
 And dwell at the tent door. 
 
 Morning and night remember him, 
 For by his grace we thrive, 
 
 And round his glowing hearth we feel 
 Old energies revive. 
 
 He is the father of our race. 
 And we could not survive
 
 THE ARYAN MIGRATION. 115 
 
 If he should leave us helpless. 
 
 And let not be forgot 
 The wisdom of our sages, 
 
 Their lives without a blot ; 
 
 And keep safe in your memories 
 
 The tales our fathers told 
 Of our far-roving ancestors, 
 
 And their adventures old 
 In desert and in forest wild, 
 
 Before there was a fold." 
 
 Thus the great father blessed us, 
 
 And bade us forthward find 
 Our future homesteads in a land 
 
 Befitting to our kind. 
 
 "May the All-Father shield you, 
 
 And give to you to bind," 
 He cried, " your coming enemies ; 
 
 And never may discord 
 Arise among your people. 
 
 And never may the sword 
 Be bared, but to avenge a wrong ; 
 
 And never may the cord 
 Be strung upon a bow ; or spear 
 
 Be lifted shoulder high,
 
 Ii6 THE ARYAN MIGRATION. 
 
 Except to cover brute or foe 
 
 That lurks your homestead nigh." 
 
 And while he blessed us, bitter tears 
 
 Ran down from every eye ; 
 For all our elder kinsmen 
 
 And their wives lamented sore, 
 While we, our lot bewailing, 
 
 Drove on our herds before. 
 Thus we parted from our people, 
 
 Never to see them more. 
 
 As the old leader ended 
 
 The sad departing tale. 
 All round the tents were heard the sobs 
 
 Of hearts that never fail 
 Of visions of the sunny land 
 
 In lands of snow and hail. 
 
 But from his seat uprose a youth, 
 
 The beard just on his chin, 
 And through his azure eyes the light 
 
 Showed the keen soul within. 
 He was born upon the weary march, 
 
 In line direct of kin 
 Of the great chief whose blessings fell 
 
 Upon his own grandsire.
 
 THE ARYAN MIGRATION. 117 
 
 He bent low to the elders, 
 
 And he threw upon the fire 
 The sacred seeds whose perfume 
 
 The heavenly Ones desire. 
 
 And as he rose two beaming eyes 
 Forth from the tent door's fold 
 
 Regarded him with raptured look 
 Through hair of glittering gold, 
 
 That overhung a swarthy brow 
 And face of noblest mould. 
 
 "My father chief," the young man said, 
 
 " The night is not far spent ; 
 And ere the queenly face divine 
 
 Shines do^\^l upon the tent, 
 Mayhap you will reveal to us ' 
 
 The toils you underwent 
 When on your westward journey. 
 
 Great leader of the brave, 
 You smote the tribes of aliens 
 
 With arrow and with glaive, 
 And kept your herds in safety 
 
 From wily thief and knave. 
 
 Pray tell us of the battles 
 
 You have fought while on the way. 
 Of the savage men you conquered. 
 
 And the savage beasts of prey;
 
 Ii8 THE ARYAN MIGRATION. 
 
 For the young men long to hear the deeds 
 Done in their grandsires' day." 
 
 He ceased ; and in the murmur 
 
 That rose from all around 
 The hearth-fires and the tent doors, 
 
 A sure accord was found. 
 The old man looked upon the youth, 
 
 And felt his heart rebound. 
 
 " My son," he said, " you task my strength, 
 
 Yet will I not deny 
 This pleasure to the youths who grow 
 
 Beneath my aged eye ; 
 And I trust to test their manhood 
 
 Some day before I die. 
 
 The fourth moon of our journey 
 
 We parted from the shore 
 Of the great Caspian waters. 
 
 And dead plains traversed o'er. 
 Fatiguing was the journey. 
 
 And our cattle suffered sore. 
 
 But as the fifth moon showed her edge 
 
 Behind us, we drew near 
 A forest belt, in whose dark paths 
 
 The pasturage did cheer
 
 THE ARYAN MIGRATION. 119 
 
 Our drooping herds, and yielded us 
 Fat limbs of boar and deer. 
 
 Through its deep glades we wandered, 
 
 Protected from the heat; 
 Our herds grew fat and frolicsome 
 
 On the green grass at their feet ; 
 And our young men and maidens. 
 
 Our wives, and children sweet, 
 Rejoiced in the long arches 
 
 Of woodland in their view. 
 And sported underneath the boughs 
 
 Of trees that shapely grew. 
 The days to us were gracious, 
 
 And not a care we knew. 
 
 The strong men of us hunted, 
 
 And every night brought home 
 Fat venison or noble skin. 
 
 Or the red bees' dripping comb. 
 That thickened sweet on rosy lips, 
 
 Sucking the sweet therefrom. 
 Nor wanted we adventures ; 
 
 For in our hunting raids. 
 Some monster wild and terrible 
 
 Would start out of the glades; 
 Nor sped the spears aimed at them, 
 
 Though sharp and biting blades.
 
 I20 THE ARYAN MIGRATION. 
 
 Once at a thicket full of thorns, 
 
 Our dogs were baying fierce, 
 And we, with bow and spear at hand, 
 
 Stood ardently to pierce 
 The boar when from the thicket 
 
 He rushed with bristling birse ; 
 
 When lo ! a bright-skinned tiger 
 Growled, as from out his lair 
 
 He sprang, and with his cruel paw 
 Struck on my shoulder — there ; 
 
 He bore me down upon the grass, 
 And tore my body bare. 
 
 Death hovered in my eyes ; and then 
 
 A true, brave brother's spear 
 Struck through the monster's glossy neck, 
 
 And through the muscles sheer. 
 Cut to the windpipe, and so fell 
 
 The striped one, lying near 
 Me, wounded and exhausted. 
 
 But soon my strength renewed. 
 And home we brought the tiger, 
 
 And by the hearth-fire viewed 
 His mighty head and cruel jaws, 
 
 And his fierce foot imbued 
 With blood of mine between the claws.
 
 THE ARYAN MIGRATION. 121 
 
 And then with knife we cut 
 Through the huge throat and yellow breast, 
 
 Straight to the open gut; 
 We tore the bright skin off him. — 
 
 It now Hes in my hut, 
 And round my old limbs when asleep 
 
 It wraps me, as the chill 
 Of winter whitens round the tent, 
 
 And kindly warms, until 
 The blessed Ushas drive the night 
 
 Beyond the western hill. 
 
 Thus fared we in the forest ; 
 
 And as our herds were driven 
 Through its long depths still onward, 
 
 Under intercepted heaven, 
 We reached a fertile open 
 
 The gods to us had given. 
 
 Wide it extended, and beyond 
 
 The eyes' unstinted sight 
 Were plains of ample verdure. 
 
 And there we settled right. 
 We pitched our tents, and fondly hoped 
 
 For ages to remain 
 In the great break of the forest-lands. 
 
 And undulating plain,
 
 122 THE ARYAN MIGRATION. 
 
 With a river wandering through it 
 
 In its journey to the main. 
 Our herds and flocks grew fast upon 
 
 The green and sweet champagne; 
 
 And many years of bhssful peace 
 
 In that dehghtful land 
 We passed, in hunting shaggy kine, 
 
 And taming to our hand 
 The brutes as beasts of burden ; 
 
 And in digging round the tent, 
 And sowing strange wild grasses, 
 
 Growing high, and gently bent 
 In the Autumn red, with golden ears; 
 
 Our fathers' gods had sent, 
 Unknown to us, our sweetest food. 
 
 But alas ! our happy life 
 Was interrupted in its flush, 
 
 For at last came evil strife : 
 The wild tribes gathered round us, 
 
 And opposed us knife to knife. 
 We feared them not. Their fiercest shafts 
 
 Were tipped with splintered stone; 
 Their spears that sang among us 
 
 Had points of polished bone. 
 And notched upon the edges 
 
 To hold where they had gone.
 
 THE ARYAN MIGRATION. 
 
 Our warriors, with brazen spears 
 And arrows glancing bright, 
 
 Killed as they struck with surer aim; 
 And from our bow-strings tight 
 
 The fatal shafts on every field 
 Sang out, and won the fight. 
 
 But numerous were our savage foes, 
 
 And when our fights were done 
 They darkly crept around our camp, 
 
 And long before the sun 
 Called us to prayer and sacrifice 
 
 Much cattle they had won. 
 They hid them in the desert depths, 
 
 And slew them one by one, 
 Feasting for days in plenteous ease ; 
 
 For nothing did they mind 
 So their imbruted natures 
 
 Were with flesh and marrow lined. 
 Thus we suffered, and they bolder grew 
 
 As we to peace inclined. 
 
 Sitting gravely round the camp-fire 
 
 We, on long debate, agreed 
 To fold our widespread tents again, 
 
 And westward still proceed;
 
 124 THE ARYAN MIGRATION. 
 
 The moon should see our rising, 
 And our march from off the mead. 
 
 Thus our evening fires untended, 
 Sunk to ashes white and dead, 
 
 And the tents dropped into slumber. 
 With many a dreaming bed, 
 
 When from the desert round us 
 Our dark-skinned foes were led. 
 
 They rushed with vigour on us, 
 
 With many a brutal cry ; 
 And though our valiant warriors 
 
 Slept with half-open eye, 
 The plundering race had won our tents 
 
 Before a spear was nigh. 
 Straight to my tent their chieftain 
 
 With savage warriors came ; 
 Before I reached my shining arms 
 
 He snatched away my dame. 
 In his fierce arms he bore her off, 
 
 To my enduring shame. 
 
 Soon gathering up my war-gear. 
 
 And shouting loud, I ran 
 Throughout the Commune, summoning 
 
 Each able, war-clad man ;
 
 THE ARYAN MIGRATION. 125 
 
 But woe was me, the force was small, 
 
 For barely could I scan 
 Four score of spears around me — 
 
 The foe had struck us fell. 
 But vengeance such as evil gods 
 
 Conceive in Yama's hell 
 Seized on me, as I ranged my men. 
 
 The while I to them tell 
 The outrage on my kingly tent, 
 
 And how the savage bore, 
 Even from my arms, my faithful wife. 
 
 Ere I could stand before 
 His gruesome presence and defend 
 
 Her sweet form, tightened sore 
 Around his dusky arms and held 
 
 By his vile fingers tight. 
 
 And then I found my kinsmen 
 
 Most eager for the fight; 
 They swore by Heaven's Father, 
 
 That ere the morning light. 
 And before the dawn had trembled 
 
 On the hill-tops, they would find 
 The ravager of homesteads, 
 
 And from his thrall unbind 
 A mother of the family, 
 
 And give, with bitter mind,
 
 126 THE ARYAN MIGRATION. 
 
 His household to the sword and fire, 
 Nor leave his flocks behind. 
 
 With hearts ablaze with vengeance, 
 
 Thus fiercely set we out, 
 And through the lonely desert 
 
 We sped, but oft in doubt 
 Of the path of the marauders. 
 
 But, as the yellow sprout 
 Of the horns of heaven's starry queen 
 
 Grew bright upon our path, 
 The wicked spoor was visible, 
 
 And doubt gave place to wrath. 
 
 We urged the fleet feet under us. 
 
 And in a fertile space 
 We saw the village of our foes. 
 
 And doomed it to disgrace. 
 The spoilers were before us, 
 
 All was silent round the place ; 
 
 We halted for a moment, 
 Then with the warrior's cry, 
 
 We burst upon the village. 
 
 Like red Indra from the sky — 
 
 I searching for the chieftain, 
 
 And the hut where he might lie.
 
 THE ARYAN MIGRATION. 127 
 
 Lo ! the village was deserted, 
 
 Not a warrior was near, 
 Not a woman, nor around the place 
 
 A head of horse or steer ; 
 They had tricked us in their cunning, 
 
 And in the desert drear, 
 Had hid themselves and all their spoil. 
 
 ' What fools we are,' I said. 
 As around me came my warriors. 
 
 ' Back from this bitter raid ; 
 Let us fall back, and at the dawn 
 
 Strike tents and march, dismayed, 
 From this dark evil wilderness ; 
 
 For never shall we ^ain 
 The princely mother, never take 
 
 Our vengeance for the slain ; 
 And never find a recompense 
 
 Long as we may remain 
 For our horses and our cattle.' 
 
 And they reluctant turned, 
 And onward through the desert, 
 
 Our swelling bosoms burned. 
 Glad were we once again to find 
 
 Our tents not overturned. 
 And all our families in peace.
 
 128 THE ARYAN MIGRATION. 
 
 So when the new light broke 
 We brought our herds together, 
 
 And gave warning to our folk, 
 And ere the glorious god had shown, 
 
 We mustered every flock. 
 And in marching gear were ready, 
 
 Seeking still to be enhomed. 
 But far though we have sought the boon 
 
 And far though we have roamed. 
 Has no dear spot been found for us. 
 
 We are Aryans marching on, 
 To the wild west yet before us, 
 
 Flesh of flesh and bone of bone, 
 All brethren seeking rest and ease, 
 
 And they shall come anon ; 
 For the father's blessing stays with us, 
 
 And the gods our fathers bent 
 With reverence and awe before 
 
 Still watch around our tent. 
 
 Thus with warrior hearts we started 
 
 That bitter morning, rent 
 By cries of wives and daughters. 
 
 Despairing cries of woe. 
 For the fair mother of the tribe 
 
 Was captive of the foe,
 
 THE ARYAN MIGRATION. 129 
 
 And my own eyes were filling full 
 From a sad heart's overflow." 
 
 He ceased, the old man, and retired; 
 
 And the silence of the night 
 Was broken softly by the voice 
 
 Of the brave youth of might, 
 The future leader of the tribe, 
 
 And master of the fight 
 When war is born of plunder. 
 
 And with his voice he rose, 
 And bent unto the elders. 
 
 While the ruddy fires disclose 
 The reddening flush upon his face, 
 
 And all his fair hair glows 
 In gleams of the red metal : 
 
 " Must we still westward go, 
 Are we still forced to wander 
 
 While toils upon us grow? 
 Our family is growing great — 
 
 Its increase who may know? 
 Or may we not on these great plains, 
 
 Through which this mighty stream 
 Of azure water slowly wends, 
 
 Secure the patriarch's dream — 
 A happy home to feed our herds — 
 
 And end our wandering ways ? 
 
 K
 
 I30 THE ARYAN MIGRATION. 
 
 Here may our aged grandsires 
 
 Fulfil their later days; 
 Here may young men and maidens 
 
 Their tents of love upraise." 
 
 And as he spoke sweet laughter 
 
 Rippled around the fire. 
 " Nay," said he, lowering his eye, 
 
 '"Tis not the sole desire 
 Of those who wish to leave the tent 
 
 To light their own hearth-fire ; 
 Though such should be an Aryan's wish, 
 
 What time his soul has skill, 
 To lead away a maiden. 
 
 Subdued unto his will, 
 And rear an Aryan family 
 
 And the high law fulfil. 
 
 I speak for a decision, 
 
 And let the Avise decide : 
 Here, will I stay, or I will go. 
 
 And take with me my bride. 
 These lands are rich and spacious : 
 
 Shall we wander, or abide?" 
 
 The youth sat down, and murmuring 
 Around the camp fires swelled,
 
 THE ARYAN MIGRATION. 131 
 
 For as he spoke, there gathered 
 
 All the encampment held ; 
 And against his eager argument, 
 
 No youthful heart rebelled. 
 
 But as the murmurs died away 
 
 Arose the Sire of Song. 
 The gifted and far-seeing, 
 
 He in his memory long 
 Had all traditions of the race ; 
 
 And in the right and wrong 
 Of quarrels and of questions 
 
 That vexed the Commune's heart, 
 His words were healing, solving. 
 
 For the wise gods took his part. 
 And all the brethren looked to him, 
 
 In the trouble and the smart 
 Of evil days and sad defeats. 
 
 He prophesied and sang 
 All along their many wanderings ; 
 
 And his songs at gloaming rang 
 Round the fires, when they were kindled, 
 
 And at dawning when the clang 
 Of milking-pails was heard 
 
 An old man, nearing now 
 Upon his fourthscore birthday. 
 Bald and furrowed on the brow ;
 
 112 THE ARYAN MIGRATION. 
 
 But his blue eyes had the fading light 
 
 Of that far-western shore, 
 Where twilight reigns, when death has come. 
 
 Where man is man no more, 
 And the dull silent life prevails 
 
 Of shadows flitting o'er 
 A dream of fields and forests. — 
 
 He arose, and raising high 
 His hand above the beaming • youth, 
 
 Experienced did reply. 
 " My son, you question fit and fair ; 
 
 Your purport I descry. 
 There are aged men amongst us, 
 
 There are fathers growing old, 
 Many young men and maidens 
 
 Are here within our fold; 
 And we have reached these grassy plains — 
 
 May we not rest in peace. 
 And keep the land by spear and sword, 
 
 The while our herds increase ? 
 
 But the gods have bade us wander. 
 
 And not yet may we cease. 
 The fate is on our children ; 
 
 But here the old may rest;
 
 THE ARYAN MIGRATION. 133 
 
 And as the father patriarch 
 
 Sent our fathers, rich and blessed, 
 Forth from the ancient pastures, 
 
 So may we, heart oppressed, 
 Send you, our kindred, onward, 
 
 And with your chosen wives. 
 And your share of kine and horses 
 
 To begin your separate Hves, 
 Still westward, till another land 
 
 With streams and pasture drives, 
 Even such as these, delight you; 
 
 There you may prosper well, 
 And perhaps before your fathers 
 
 In the silent meadows dwell, 
 You may to children's children 
 
 A departing tale foretell." 
 
 He ceased; and all the young folks heard 
 
 His words divinely weighed; 
 And though many souls were gladdened, 
 
 There were others much dismayed, 
 For the love of kindred bound them 
 
 And a sweeter feeling swayed. 
 
 To them the fair-haired Prince a word 
 Of counsel uttered then :
 
 134 THE ARYAN MIGRATION: 
 
 " We are no longer children 
 
 We are grown-up, bearded men ; 
 It befits us to obey the sooth 
 
 Within the prophet's ken. 
 What fear we ? As our fathers passed 
 
 Through dangers, so shall we. 
 And as they struck, so we shall strike 
 
 Whatever foe may be 
 In hated ambush on our path 
 
 Or in the open free. 
 
 And since the gods decree our course, 
 What Aryan shall refrain, , 
 
 From resolute obedience, 
 If in his soul remain 
 
 A spark of the ancestral light 
 
 That guides through shaw and plain ? 
 
 Up, then, my brothers, and prepare. 
 
 Choose ye your loving mates, 
 For ere the sky has three times ope'd 
 
 Her golden burning gates. 
 To the bright steeds of Indra 
 
 Our march shall have begun. 
 And I your leader, if so be 
 
 You choose me, who have won, 
 Though young, the praise of elders, 
 
 Will lead you with the sun."
 
 THE ARYAN MIGRATION. I35 
 
 Then even timorous souls grew large, 
 And round the fires applause 
 
 Rose to the constellations — 
 A chief espoused their cause, 
 
 And as their head would lead them 
 In the wisdom of their laws. 
 
 In the might of their old heroes. 
 
 And so the tents were closed, 
 The fires before them dwindled, 
 
 And the kinsfolk all reposed. 
 But, before he laid him down, the youth 
 
 Glanced round ; and half disclosed 
 By flickering fire-light, saw his love. 
 
 And she who sought his eye 
 Rushed eager to his side, and clove 
 
 To him with maiden cry. 
 
 Then softly walked they from the tent. 
 
 To the Danau, rolling nigh ; 
 There by the slowly winding stream 
 
 Their love vows were renewed. 
 She had heard unseen the high debate, 
 
 And in her heart subdued 
 All other feelings for her love ; 
 
 And he who gently sued
 
 136 THE ARYAN MIGRATION. 
 
 Her wifely presence with him 
 In the far, untrodden lands, 
 
 Found in her dear love clinging 
 And fervid grasp of hands. 
 
 The rain his soul had thirsted for, 
 To quench its burning sands. 
 
 And, as they talked, new life to both 
 
 Was opening in the wild ; 
 No longer seemed the jjarting day 
 
 A day to be exiled, 
 But rather the sweet birth of love 
 
 That parting reconciled — 
 He high in life ; she confident. 
 
 As in his face she smiled. 
 
 The parting morning came ; and all 
 The kinsfolk, roused from sleep, 
 
 Assembled round the father's tent, 
 The ancient forms to keep. 
 
 In reverent simplicity. 
 
 And sorrow, true and deep, 
 
 As from the family's bosom 
 The loved ones march away. 
 
 The sacred rites were soon performed. 
 And in their best array,
 
 THE ARYAN MIGRATION. 137 
 
 With wives and herds, with spear and shield, 
 
 In the foint dawTi of day. 
 The youthful band of Aryans 
 
 Moved slowly from their kin, 
 And westward took their journey, 
 
 New lands and homes to win.
 
 THE BURNING OF THE 
 CRANNOG.
 
 THE BURNING OF THE CRANNOG. 
 
 The morning breaks upon the lake, 
 And through the shivering leaves 
 
 Of the wild woodland, early light 
 Its placid breast receives. 
 
 It glinted on an island home, 
 And lighted up the eaves 
 
 In sheltered corner of the mere. 
 
 The isle was founded deep 
 On piles and crossbeams deftly stacked 
 
 And morticed, till the heap 
 In rounded form arose above 
 
 The water; and around 
 A high stockade was firmly fixed. 
 
 On the half-floating ground, 
 
 In its centre rose the homestead, 
 
 Built up of birchen logs, 
 And thatched with ferns and rushes 
 
 From the woodland and the bogs ;
 
 142 THE BURNING OF THE CRANNOG. 
 
 With cattle-sheds beside it, 
 
 A homestead all complete. 
 And surrounded by the water, 
 
 Safe it seemed to be, and meet 
 To cope with any enemy, 
 
 Though strong of arm and fleet; 
 
 For though a gangway fixed on piles 
 Reached to the nearest shore, 
 
 Down in the lake it was concealed 
 Sufficient, and no more. 
 
 To let the cattle wade to land, 
 And home when day was o'er. 
 
 A tree boat, hollowed out by fire 
 And bronze axe, floated near, 
 
 The paddles lying in its stern 
 To quickly oar and steer ; 
 
 It was the ready messenger 
 Of the farmer of the mere. 
 
 Day broke ; and summer warmth awoke 
 
 The homestead folk to thrift; 
 The old man, grey and bowed, to watch 
 
 His cattle, turned adrift 
 To find their pasture in the woods ; 
 
 But first he did uplift 
 His old hands to the sun and prayed. 
 
 The while the glittering rays
 
 THE BURNING OF THE CRANNOG. 14: 
 
 Shone on his furrowed face, and set 
 
 His white hair in a blaze. 
 That peace would be his children's lot, 
 
 And many prosperous days. 
 
 His strong sons sallied out and cast 
 
 A reverent glance on high, 
 Then blithely to the cattle-sheds 
 
 They, with a sister nigh — 
 A dark girl, light of foot, and shaped 
 
 With wondrous symmetry — 
 
 Passed on; she bearing in her arms 
 
 Her milk-bowls, to be filled 
 With white juice from the udders. 
 
 That at her pressure rilled 
 And foamed within the earthen bowls; 
 
 And the morning milking done, 
 The kine and sheep were driven forth. 
 
 Slow, blinking in the sun. 
 They marched through the rude gateway. 
 
 And the well-known gangway won ; 
 
 And small limbed swine and horses, 
 
 With shaggy coats, went out, 
 And made for the green forest, 
 
 With many a warning shout
 
 144 THE BURNING OF THE CRANNOG. 
 
 From the brothers, who with spear in hand 
 
 The strugghng herds controlled, 
 And drove them all in safety 
 
 To the pastures of the wold. 
 They landed lightly on the grass. 
 
 And to the homestead old, 
 They waved their arms and disappeared 
 
 Within the forest glade; 
 
 And father, mother, sister smiled. 
 
 And he the aged said, 
 For a fateful look was in his eye 
 
 As of a coming raid, 
 " May no foul enemy be near, 
 
 No red-haired, blue-eyed foe. 
 To steal our cattle, smite our sons. 
 
 With iron in the blow." 
 
 Mother and daughter proudly smiled ; 
 
 The men were strong of limb. 
 In war-gear clad, with spear and knife, 
 
 Hard fighting, fierce and grim. 
 When rage of battle seized them, 
 
 And the eye of fear was dim. 
 
 In hunter's skill and forest lore. 
 No better men could be ;
 
 THE BURNING OF THE CRANNOG. 145 
 
 They knew the wild boar's lair, and where 
 
 The wolf made quarters free ; 
 They smote the red deer in the glades, 
 
 And on the far off height 
 They tracked the reindeer by his spoor, 
 
 And smote him in their might. 
 And wild bulls, roaming in the fields. 
 
 Still fiercer in the fight, 
 They conquered with the edge of bronze, 
 
 Nor turned they from the fray. 
 By plundering tribes provoked, but stood 
 
 Through many a bloody day, 
 And never yet had met defeat, 
 
 Or the fell wounds that slay. 
 
 The sun shone dowm upon the lake 
 
 In prime of summer heat, 
 As from the stockade passed the girl. 
 
 And forthwith took her seat 
 In the tree boat that floated near ; 
 
 And handling firm and neat 
 Her double-bladed oar, she made 
 
 The light boat skim along, 
 Beguiling the fair voyage 
 
 With snatches of a song — 
 Old song of love and cruelty. 
 
 Of victory and wrong.
 
 146 THE BURNING OF THE C RAN NOG. 
 
 And fair and trig the maiden looked, 
 
 Her steady large brown eyes 
 Shone eager from her face, and showed 
 
 A soul without disguise. 
 Her glossy hair of darkest tint 
 
 Was coiled in braided ties, 
 And rose above her earringed ears ; 
 
 And round her neck was strung 
 Of vitreous beads a triple row, 
 
 That rainbow colours flung. 
 Her fur-trimmed mantle at her breast 
 
 Was fastened by a dart, 
 Of red wrought bronze, a token 
 
 From one who felt the smart 
 Of love within his bosom, 
 
 And showed it by his art. 
 And in her girdle was a knife. 
 
 Keen edged of ruddy hue. 
 And in her boat beside her lay 
 
 A spear with handle new. 
 
 She reached the shore, and beached her boat, 
 
 And, spear in hand, she passed. 
 With buskined feet into the wood, 
 
 And round about her cast 
 To find the fresh prints of the herds ; 
 
 And ranging long, at last
 
 THE BURNING OF THE CRANNOG. li,-] 
 
 She found them in a shallow glen ; 
 
 Through which a streamlet flowed ; 
 There the sweet grass and brackens grew, 
 
 And there the wild flowers blowed. 
 And when she called the cattle came, 
 
 And softly to her lowed. 
 
 She drove them to an open glade ; 
 
 And as they grazed around, 
 The fearless girl, with spear in hand, 
 
 Surveyed the neighbouring ground. 
 And while she walked, she heard the rush 
 
 An old familiar sound, 
 Among the brushwood of the boar ; 
 
 Then stood she, lance in hand. 
 Poised for a stroke if he should come, 
 
 And nobly did she stand. 
 Eyes eager, and unflinching nerves 
 
 In mouth, and hand, and foot. 
 Showed how she would encounter 
 
 The white-tusked, brawny brute. 
 
 He came with feebly snorting snout, 
 
 His strength struck at the root, 
 A spear had pierced him to the heart, 
 
 And from his side gushed red. 
 In spasms, his unholy blood. 
 
 And near her he lay dead.
 
 148 THE BURNING OF THE CRANNOG. 
 
 And after him a warrior came, 
 
 The hunter who had led 
 The long pursuit, and gave the wound 
 
 From which the tusker bled. 
 
 He stood, a youth with auburn hair, 
 
 Beside the eager maid ; 
 The boar was at her feet, and she 
 
 Upon his side had laid 
 Her brazen spear, but not to claim 
 
 The quarry- for she said, 
 ■'Thine is the conquest, mighty chief; 
 
 He fell beside me here, 
 The death-blow given by thine arm 
 
 And thy unvanquished spear. 
 So take him : he is thine ; for we 
 
 The forest laws revere." 
 
 But the brave youth made answer, 
 
 " Nay, maiden ; I shall draw 
 The boar down to the water-edge. 
 
 For thine he is by law, 
 If not of forest, yet of love — 
 
 Sweet daughter of the lake. 
 For thee I haunt the forest depths. 
 
 And only for thy sake ;
 
 THE BURNING OF THE CRANNOG. 149 
 
 My people are not thine, but them 
 
 I gladly would forsake 
 To live with thee and with thy folk, 
 
 And ever severed be 
 From all my kindred if I might 
 
 But live in love with thee. 
 Sweet meetings we have had — and I ? — 
 
 Am I not dear to thee 
 As thou to me? Alas ! our race 
 
 For ever is at war 
 With thy brave people ; ours has come 
 
 By conquest from afar, 
 And must prevail, for strength is ours 
 
 And Fate's ascending star." 
 
 Then as he ceased he clasped her round, 
 
 And down upon the grass 
 They sat and talked, nor noted they 
 
 How shortened hours may pass. 
 Until the kine, with udders swelled, 
 
 From deep chests bellowed near. 
 Then rose she, blushing, half in love 
 
 And half in guilty fear. 
 " Now I must go," she said, " and drive 
 
 My herds down to the mere — 
 The patient herds; for see you not 
 
 The sun draws to the sea,
 
 ISO THE BURNING OF THE CRANNOG. 
 
 And soon my brethren will return ; 
 Spoil laden may they be." 
 
 " Nay, maiden, I will speed thy way," 
 
 He said, and hastily 
 Swept round the herds and drove them on ; 
 
 Then on his shoulders wide, 
 He threw the tusker he had killed, 
 
 And strode on by her side ; 
 And through the woodland passed they 
 
 Like warrior groom and bride. 
 
 They reached the brook that tapped the lake. 
 
 When bitter battle-cries 
 Aroused and stopped them, and each looked 
 
 Into the other's eyes. 
 " My brothers ! " cried the maiden ; 
 
 " My kinsmen ! " cried the chief; 
 The boar fell from his shoulders 
 
 And he struck his hands in grief. 
 She raised her spear, and vehemently 
 
 Rushed forth to their relief. 
 
 "Stay!" cried he; "drive the cattle home — 
 
 The lake is near at hand; 
 And I will stop the battle. 
 
 Though I fight my own brave band.
 
 THE BURNING OF THE CRANNOG. 151 
 
 If warriors have not fallen 
 And blood be on no brand." 
 
 "Haste, then," she said, "and I will wait 
 
 With boat upon the strand." 
 And as she spoke he disappeared. 
 
 And she with spear in hand 
 Drove down the eager cattle 
 
 To the lake, and saw them land. 
 
 She drew the boat upon the mere, 
 
 And softly stepped within, 
 And sat with oar and spear in hand. 
 
 Her nervous nostrils thin 
 And eyes dilated, as if she 
 
 Felt battle through the skin. 
 Nor long she waited ; brethren three 
 
 Ran gasping to the boat, 
 With bloody weapons, and with blood, 
 
 In many a purple clot, 
 Upon their faces and their arms — 
 
 The battle had been hot. 
 
 Some quick strokes of the paddle took 
 
 The boat beyond pursuit 
 And her face turned to her brothers 
 
 As a soul with terror mute,
 
 152 THE BURNING OF THE CRANNOG. 
 
 And her eager looks were questions. 
 
 They sorrowful replied, 
 "Three of us in the forest lie, 
 
 With foemen's blood bedyed, 
 And we too should have fallen 
 
 In the battle by their side- — 
 For foes pressed hard upon us. 
 
 And outnumbered us by far — 
 Had not a chief ran in between 
 
 And claimed an end of war. 
 And bade us haste to meet thee 
 
 While he pursuit could bar." 
 
 But gleams of vengeance passed across 
 
 Their faces as they told 
 Of the great deeds of their brothers 
 
 Ere their hearts were stricken cold ; 
 For each his stalwart man had slain, 
 
 And one whose weapon old 
 Twice cut a life before it fell 
 
 Out of his nerveless hold. 
 And they too had repaid the blood 
 
 Drawn by the bitter sword. 
 By harder blows and fuller streams 
 
 That gashes wide afford ; 
 But hopeless was the contest 
 
 Against the stranger horde.
 
 THE BURNING OF THE CRANNOG. 15: 
 
 "What then," the maiden said, "is come 
 
 At last our hapless doom ; 
 Must we all perish innocent. 
 
 To give the new race room ? 
 The land is wide, and we might live 
 
 Together without hate ; 
 But their insatiate appetite 
 
 No conquest can abate. 
 And none but they must share the land 
 
 Our fathers strong and great 
 Won from the wild beasts of the field. 
 
 The forest, and the hill. 
 And you have slain their braves, and struck 
 
 Blows that do all but kill. 
 Oh ! do believe, my brethren dear, 
 
 They purpose further ill ; 
 
 Their cry for vengeance will not fail- - 
 
 Not even counsels fair, 
 Such as the noble chief will give, 
 
 Their purpose will defer. 
 They will attack our island home. 
 
 And slay us in their snare. 
 
 But we may fly and leave the lake 
 For life to all is sweet ;
 
 154 THE BURNING OF THE CRANNOG. 
 
 Thus the old sire and mother dear 
 Their days may fill complete ; 
 
 And we some other home may find, 
 Where foes we shall not meet." 
 
 Her pleading words fell on the ears 
 
 Of men of courage true. 
 They knew fate was against them, 
 
 That the bravest man who drew 
 His sword against a hundred 
 
 Would fall before a few. 
 Their lake-girt home was past defence 
 
 If the strong alien band 
 Its capture or destruction 
 
 Should of the chief demand. 
 The night fell softly as they moored 
 
 The boat upon the strand. 
 
 Then passed they to the hearth-fire, 
 And beside its flickering light 
 
 They solemnly assembled. 
 
 These young men red from fight ; 
 
 And their sister told the story 
 Of death-sorrow and of flight. 
 
 The bitter meal was over, 
 
 They were all prepared to fly,
 
 THE BURNING OF THE CRANNOG. 155 
 
 When burning arrows lighted up 
 
 The darkened lake and sky. 
 They lighted on the roof-tree, 
 
 And the flames ascended high, 
 And others followed fast, and showed 
 
 From Avhence their flight arose. 
 Their foes were on the lake, and manned 
 
 The waters to enclose 
 The crannog-dwellers and their home, 
 
 Their cattle and their gear ; 
 And nought remained but death by fire. 
 
 Or fierce point of the spear. 
 
 Then the heroic maiden spoke, 
 
 "Save you our parents dear. 
 Secure the boat, while from the sheds 
 
 The cattle I unbind, 
 And drive them down in mad stampede 
 
 Into the lake behind. 
 Follow them not, but watch our foes. 
 
 And if the gods are kind, 
 The herd may tempt them to pursuit, 
 
 And we may steal ashore. 
 And seek a place of shelter 
 
 Till the dread night is o'er ; 
 For back into our homestead 
 
 We shall return no more."
 
 156 THE BURNING OF THE CRANNOG. 
 
 Without reply she ran within 
 
 The red illumined sheds, 
 Released the brutes, and out they burst, 
 
 And rushed with lowered heads 
 At the stockade, and forced their way 
 
 Into the waters deep ; 
 And terror-stricken horses 
 
 Made many a fatal leap, 
 And followed through the gaps, the flock 
 
 Of singed and trembling sheep. 
 
 Now stole she back to reach the boat ; 
 
 She saw it by the light 
 Of her own burning home, the scene 
 
 Of an unequal fight, 
 For the aliens' spears surrounded it ; 
 
 It sunk into the night. 
 
 Alone upon the burning isle. 
 The maiden nerved her heart 
 
 For a short contest and the stroke 
 From arrow or from dart ; 
 
 Then to her loving kindred, 
 Dead, she would, dead, depart. 
 
 The fight was over, but the flames 
 Spread fast upon the isle ;
 
 THE BURNING OF THE CRANNOG. 157 
 
 The crannog of her fathers 
 
 Might be her funeral pile. 
 But the water lay around her, 
 
 Her foes she might beguile. 
 She could pace the hidden gangway, 
 
 Or if danger should be there, 
 She would swim and reach the woodland, 
 
 And if once beneath the care 
 Of the ghosts that haunt its shadows, 
 
 She was safe from evil fare. 
 
 But as the firm resolve had come 
 
 To strike out for the shore. 
 She heard the paddling of a boat, 
 
 And she trembled to the core. 
 Till a low sweet voice assured her. 
 
 He had come, the battle o'er. 
 To succour her in danger. 
 
 He had sought her in the strife. 
 The dire strife of her kindred. 
 
 Short and noble ; life for life, 
 They fell avenged upon his men 
 
 Opposing knife to knife. 
 
 Then in the boat he placed her. 
 And ere, the woodland's marge 
 
 He oared her to ; they sat and watched 
 The smoke and flame enlarge,
 
 158 THE BURNING OF THE CRANNOG. 
 
 Till they covered all the island. 
 
 And the homestead ever dear 
 Burnt down unto the water's edge 
 
 Did ever disappear ; 
 And the dark silence of the night 
 
 Closed round about the mere.
 
 THE LAST SACRIFICE.
 
 THE LAST SACRIFICE. 
 
 [The scene of this, the last of the Sagas, is laid at the site of 
 a cromlech well known to archseologists, and named the "Auld 
 Wives' Lifts," on Craigmaddie Moor, in Stirlingshire, N.B. 
 As described in the Saga, the cromlech is in the centre of 
 a natural hollow, and is formed of three large stones, two up- 
 right and one across the top, a large stone, weighing between 
 twenty and thirty tons. The upright stones taper from the 
 bottom, so that between the " coping stone " and the uprights 
 there is a space, through which one person may with some little 
 difficulty pass. It is still a superstition in the district that the 
 engaged pair who pass through and return will find good 
 luck to follow them in their married lives. The origin of the 
 name "The Auld Wives' Lifts" is unknown, though there are 
 numerous fanciful legends of an explanatory nature that have 
 been worked into local story and song. Within a mile or two 
 of the cromlech, the great battle of Mucotoc — modern Mugdock — 
 was fought in the seventh century, and, as described by Nennius, 
 must have been of a decisive character, as between diffei-ent 
 races of Celts. The curious reader will find Professor Rhys' 
 explanation of the battle in his admirable little book on " Celtic 
 Britain." Though not above ten miles from the great western 
 metropolis of Scotland, the district is to the present day a lonely 
 one, and its inhabitants still retain many old customs, and hold 
 to many old prejudices. Mugdock, it may be stated, is now only 
 known in Scotland from its great reservoir, constructed by the 
 Corporation of Glasgow for the purpose of storing the water 
 supply from Loch Katrine — a supply which accommodates about 
 a million of people.] 
 
 M
 
 1 62 THE LAST SACRIFICE. 
 
 Upon a dark and rainy night 
 
 I struck across the moor 
 With hurried steps, and stayed not till 
 
 Upon its topmost floor 
 Of velvet grass — a fairy ring — 
 
 A place I knew of yore, 
 I stopt to breathe, to strike a light 
 
 And kindle a cigar. 
 
 And there in patience I remained ; 
 
 For in the clouded lift 
 Slight streaks of brightness slowly broke 
 
 Into an azure rift, 
 And from th' engulphing clouds the moon 
 
 Drove to it round and sweet. 
 And on the dreariness of moor 
 
 That lay around my feet 
 Shone with a clear and gladsome gleam ; 
 
 It lighted far below 
 From where I paused a hollow ring, 
 
 Where treacherous marshes grow, 
 
 And in the hollow's centre high 
 
 An ancient altar shone — 
 Two upright rocks, and on the top 
 
 A massive round of stone. 
 Beneath the uprights one could pass 
 
 Beneath the coping block 3
 
 THE LAST SACRIFICE. 163 
 
 And country people yet will bow 
 
 Beneath the sacred rock, 
 For luck attends the youthful pair 
 
 Who pass and do not mock. 
 
 Dreams drew me to it, as above 
 
 The night was clearing fast. 
 And down into the marshy ring 
 
 With wary feet I passed; 
 And soon upon the altar stone 
 
 I clomb ; but first went through, 
 For luck and ancient custom's sake. 
 
 The sacred avenue. 
 
 I stood upon the ancient pile 
 
 And looked up to the sky, 
 Watching the water-laden clouds 
 
 In masses, drifting by, 
 The moon absorbed, then bursting forth 
 
 In rounded radiance bright, 
 And for a brief space making day 
 
 Of the uncertain night. 
 
 And, glancing round, it seemed to me 
 
 A crowd came into sight, — 
 Of men and women, boys and girls. 
 
 In ordered march they came
 
 1 64 THE LAST SACRIFICE. 
 
 Over the moor, and as they neared, 
 I thought I knew their aim — 
 
 Some sacred deed they meant to do, 
 Some rite of ancient name. 
 
 Then down a low edge of the ring 
 
 They silently deployed; 
 While watching from the vantage ground 
 
 The cromlech's height supplied, 
 And under fitful gleams of light, 
 
 Their forms I well descried. 
 
 Not of the living time were they : 
 
 A dead race seemed to rise 
 From the eternal past — the past 
 
 Unknown to histories, 
 Or only darkly known to those 
 
 Who ancient mounds explore. 
 And find forgotten ancestors, 
 
 Forgotten — and no more. 
 
 And here they came in scanty robes, 
 
 A small race, pale of skin, 
 With dark hued hair, and tattooed breast 
 
 To savages akin ; 
 And in their midst, a stately form. 
 
 That might be priest or king.
 
 THE LAST SACRIFICE. 165 
 
 He ranged them with a leader's skill 
 
 Within the sacred ring, 
 And raised aloft upon the night 
 
 A song for them to sing. 
 
 And by the princely chief, sustained 
 
 By maiden arms, I saw 
 A tall-grown girl, in bridal white, 
 
 And looked upon with awe 
 By elders of the tribe, for she 
 
 Seemed doomed by a dread law. 
 A fair face patiently composed, 
 
 And limbs of lithely grace, 
 Thick tresses on her shoulders fell 
 
 And wantoned on her face — 
 A fair face, lit with vivid eyes. 
 
 That glanced around the place. 
 
 The crowd had reached the holy spot, 
 
 And circling round it spread. 
 The noble leader took the maid 
 
 By the right hand, and led 
 Her to the hollow pass, and thus 
 
 Addressing her, he said : 
 "Go through, my daughter, and again 
 
 Come backward, and once more 
 Pass and repass, while all the folks 
 
 Your faithfulness adore."
 
 1 66 THE LAST SACRIFICE. 
 
 She gathered up her robes, and passed 
 
 Beneath the altar stone, 
 And underneath I heard her foot 
 
 Slip softly, as alone 
 She glided through and through, and wrought 
 
 The spell without a moan. 
 
 Then upward to the sky the priest 
 Stretched out his hand and cried, 
 
 "Protect us, O ye mighty Ones, 
 And be ye satisfied ; 
 
 A princely maid we offer ye ; 
 She cannot be denied." 
 
 From out his belt a whetted knife 
 
 He took, and placed it bare 
 With reverent hand upon the stone. 
 
 Its savage glitter there 
 Appalled me; at my foot it lay 
 
 With unremitting glare 
 In the clear moonlight ; for it seemed 
 
 That I should stand and see 
 The white breast of the maiden cut. 
 
 And her warm blood flow free. 
 To satiate the awful rage 
 
 Of a barbarous deity.
 
 THE LAST SACRIFICE. 16/ 
 
 The priest laid down the knife, and took 
 
 The damsel in his arms ; 
 He kissed her softly on the cheek, 
 
 Gazed chastely on her charms ; 
 And while the tears ran down his face. 
 
 He on the altar raised 
 Her trembling body, and anon 
 
 Turned to her folk, and praised 
 The willing sacrifice of youth. 
 
 And cried, "Be not amazed 
 That the great gods of heaven and earth 
 
 Should seek a victim rare, 
 The tenderest bud of innocence, 
 
 High-born and chaste and fair; 
 The noblest damsel of the tribe, 
 
 The holy virgin there." 
 
 He ceased, and at a signal came 
 
 Two aged chieftains near; 
 They bound the virgin's hands and feet, 
 
 With many a sigh and tear ; 
 But never from her white lips came 
 
 A sound that I could hear. 
 
 The priest climbed on the altar, 
 And decently composed
 
 i68 THE LAST SACRIFICE. 
 
 The fair form of the noble girl; 
 
 Then in his hand enclosed 
 The dreadful sacrificial knife, 
 
 And raising it on high, 
 To the full moon and stars divine. 
 
 That' glistened in the sky, 
 He called the people round him, 
 
 And the people made reply : 
 
 " Oh, men of vales and grassy hills. 
 
 We are encompassed round 
 With many foes; but here we meet 
 
 Upon this sacred ground ; 
 And by the holy altar, raised 
 
 By forefathers renowned. 
 This place, the ancient chosen spot 
 
 Where the divine ones rest, 
 And listen with a willing ear 
 
 To every request 
 That shapes itself within the tribe. 
 
 And grows within its breast. 
 
 Last of our country's faith are we, 
 
 And if I may divine 
 From pregnant sayings and forecasts 
 
 Of Seers of noblest line, 
 This maiden sacrifice shall be 
 
 An awful final sign.
 
 THE LAST SACRIFICE. 169 
 
 If her pure blood flows fast upon 
 
 This altar, so shall we 
 Shed blood, and be the conquerors 
 
 Between the sea and sea, 
 And our true faith in triumph win 
 
 Its ancient mastery." 
 
 Then stood he by the virgin's side — 
 
 He almost touched my feet — 
 He shook, and sobbed, and cried in pain, 
 
 " My daughter, pure and sweet, 
 Thy mother's likeness and her Hfe, 
 
 My soul white and complete. 
 Forgive thy father-priest, and say 
 
 You know what now we do 
 Is for the favour of the gods. 
 
 And their protection true, 
 And to avert our people's doom 
 
 From creeds and races new. 
 
 A moment's pain — thy self shall pass 
 
 To unexampled bliss. 
 And thy dear mother in her arms, 
 
 With many a tender kiss, 
 Shall welcome thee, and shield thee 
 
 From a dark time like this. 
 
 And shed soft tears of love for him 
 Who strikes the sacred blow,
 
 I70 THE LAST SACRIFICE. 
 
 Who feels as if thy blood were his, 
 
 As if the stroke should go 
 Straight to his heart, and not to thine, 
 
 That the red flood should flow 
 Upon the altar from his veins ; 
 
 For, loved one, he would fain 
 The gods would take his life for thine, 
 
 And let thee here remain 
 To wed a foeman, though he be 
 
 Chief of the alien race. 
 But the gods who nursed us long ago, 
 
 And gave us strength and grace. 
 Who gave us herds and hunting-ground 
 
 In this green valley's space, 
 Forbid it; and they claim thy life 
 
 A precious sacrifice. 
 But when the dreadful rite is done, 
 
 Death also in his eyes, 
 Shall after happy battle 
 
 Victorious arise ; 
 
 Yea, daughter, he shall come to thee. 
 
 And to thy mother dear. 
 His vexed and anxious soul released 
 
 By hard thrust of a spear; 
 And, mounting upwards, claim you both. 
 
 In the unblemished sphere.
 
 THE LAST SACRIFICE. 171 
 
 The gods so will it, for he knows 
 The fateful hour is near." 
 
 Then grasping with impassioned force 
 
 The virgin, standing tall 
 Upon the altar, he upraised 
 
 Her fair form, and o'er all 
 Her white face pressed his kisses, 
 
 And gently let her fall. 
 She murmured softly in his ear, 
 
 "So be it, at Their call." 
 
 Stood up the priest to all his height, 
 
 And to the people turned ; 
 " You know," he said, " how keen my soul 
 
 Has for this maiden yearned, 
 And that some other sacrifice 
 
 The gods would not have spurned, 
 I prayed to substitute ; but Fate 
 
 Is all, and over-lord, 
 And even the high gods must take 
 
 Its unrelenting word. 
 The doom must fall upon this breast, 
 
 The pure and the adored." 
 
 Then raising higher still his voice 
 In rugged tones and true,
 
 172 THE LAST SACRIFICE. 
 
 "Sing out," he cried, "ye people, 
 
 The song for ever new, 
 Though old as our religion, 
 
 That to the rite is due." 
 
 The people paused a moment. 
 And then their voices rose. 
 
 Slow, solemn, like the music 
 That through the valley flows 
 
 In summer midnights, when the shades 
 Do battle with their foes : 
 
 " God of the Light, to thee 
 
 Our deepest yearnings go. 
 Thou bringest us the Day, 
 
 And work and bliss and woe. 
 Thine eyes shine on us ever, 
 
 From dawning unto night ; 
 And strong in thee we hunt. 
 
 And strong in thee we fight. 
 
 And thou, the god of blood, 
 Who askest the sacrifice, 
 
 Strongest of all the gods. 
 The strong one, and the wise, 
 
 On thy high altar here. 
 And in the sacred sight
 
 THE LAST SACRIFICE. 173 
 
 Of the eternal vault 
 
 And its mysterious light, 
 
 We raise the song to thee, 
 
 And pray thee to be here, 
 While on the blessed stone 
 
 Is laid the victim dear. 
 The untouched blood of youth, 
 
 Accept, and as it flows 
 Redeem us, and protect us. 
 
 Oh, God, of war and woes ! " 
 
 Lo ! as the song sunk on the night. 
 
 Arose victorious cries, 
 And fast adown within the ring 
 
 A band of warriors hies, 
 And scatters with the sword the crowd 
 
 That waits on sacrifice. 
 
 Upon the altar leapt the chief, 
 
 And set the maiden free. 
 And but for his protecting arm 
 
 The rite of cruelty 
 Had been accomplished, and the knife 
 
 Had sped the prophecy. 
 
 But bravely died the priest ; the blade. 
 Hallowed by many a rite
 
 174 THE LAST SACRIFICE. 
 
 Of sacrificial virtue gleamed 
 The last time on the night — 
 
 It struck into his noble heart, 
 Deep buried out of sight. 
 
 Prone on the sacred stone he sank, 
 
 His dark blood rippled o'er 
 Its rugged surface, dabbling red 
 
 Behind me and before. 
 An awful victim, and the last. 
 
 He fell ; and rose no more 
 The race he led, the faith he held, 
 
 The gods he did adore. 
 
 THE END. 
 
 PRINTED BY WILLIAM CLOWES AND SONS, LIMITED, 
 LONDON AND BECCLES.
 
 [December, 1883. 
 
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