Then the long, far-reaching bottoms Rank with withered blue-joint grass, With its broken stems entangled In a matted jungle mass; Then across the higher prairie, Searching out a shorter way, To the creek that joined the river Where Mac crossed and got away; Then the twinge of bitter sorrow As he neared his journey's end, And beheld the fringe of timber On the banks of Old Man's bend, Where no living sign or token Broke the gloom that brooded there, Save a solitary buzzard Floating idly in the air. 22 From these high and broken hilltops He could trace the river's flow, And the creek's untamed meandering, With its looplike bend below, Seeming in the light of evening Like a giant serpent there, Which had coiled about its victim, And lay resting in its lair. Breaking through the tangled brushwood As the night was coming on, Creeping down the steep embankment Where the muddy waters run, Billy crossed within the timber Where the shroud of deeper gloom, And its chilling breath of darkness Marked the hidden prairie tomb. 23 As the soul in deep communion, Seeks some isolated bower Where the body's sordid cravings Yield beneath the spirit's power, So the searcher, bowed in reverence, Left untouched his evening fare As he listened to the voices Of the shadows gathering there. Here no lighted torch or camp fire With its weak and fitful ray, Could illume the mystic journey Of prayer's consecrated way. Here the silence brought its message Of forebodings, vague and deep, In its visions to the dreamer, Through the mystery of sleep. 24 In his dreams he saw a monarch Decked in sumptuous array, Seated on a throne of glory, Bearing royal title, Day. Then some mighty power transcendent, Thrust him from his gorgeous throne, Turning all the realm to darkness, And the world was left alone. As the shades of gloom were spreading, By strange flashing threads of light He beheld in dim-drawn outline, On the background of the night, Phantom horse and girlish rider, Speeding on in reckless race, Till she turned directly toward him And he saw her fearless face. 25 Then, behold! the King returning With a pageantry so bright, That the shadow-clad usurpers Fled in ignominious fright. As he saw the hosts approaching Through a cloud of battle smoke, Charging wildly down upon him, He, in sudden fear, awoke. As he looked, the blackened heavens Splashed with demon-tinted blood From the hue of burning prairie Throbbed above the fiery flood. Leaping o'er the rounded bluff-tops, Down the valley's long incline, He could see the lurid column Spread its blazing battle line. 26