Not far the golden orb of light Had sped, on his aerial flight, Nor gained he yet the central sky, Ere—bent on mystic rite and high— I sought a lone, embower’d place, And just within the wood’s embrace, But not excluding partial sight Of winding shore, and waters bright, There had I rais’d my humble stone Of sacrifice;—that duty done, Would have return’d, when object new, Half veiled in mist, arrests my view;— In human form it seem’d bedight, Of giant limb and giant might— Onward it came, along the strand, With thoughtful pace and outstretch’d hand, As if in act to speak, or press, But changing, still grew less and less, Till burst of sunbeam, quick and bright, Displayed a stature human quite, And as he came more near to me, Behold, a noble Hillabee! A youth of pensive mien, and tall, Whom in thy thoughts thou may’st recall. He stopt;—and drawing from his breast A knife-sheath, oft its surface prest With fervent lip—and it seem’d fair, With inwrought quill, and stained hair— Then look’d he up to heaven, with eyes That sought the pity of the skies, And once again that pledge he prest, Then drew the blade—and in his breast Had plung’d it deep, but from my stand I sprang, and foil’d his lifted hand. Pale and aghast awhile he stood, Then flung that weapon in the flood, And, with embraces warm and rife, Thank’d and re-thank’d me for his life. EDNEE. Didst thou not ask, what fate severe Had driv’n the hapless wand’rer here? What cruel ills his life had prest, Or woes were rankling in his breast? MONGAZID. Speech had we some; but ever shy And cautious, seemed he, in reply: He spoke of wandering and of loss, In war and peace, by wile and cross; Of hopes still false, and objects e’er Upon the grasp, yet never near; With much of wild and frantic lore, That spoke a bosom pain’d and sore, But ever indistinct, and still He thank’d me for my friendly will. EDNEE. [aside] Strange! tale most strange! ah, could it be! But he is dead!—a Hillabee! ALHALLA. Saw’st thou no mark upon his breast, To note the chieftainship? or crest? MONGAZID. Mark saw I none, and ill could test What neither word nor sign exprest; More if ye would of purpose ask, Himself shall spare my tongue the task. [_Enter an Indian, clad in the Southern costume._]