Sir John in friendly accents spoke, And ask’d their king to see; They pointed to a shelter’d lodge Beneath a giant tree; And when away where the old oak grew They moved with haughty strides, Sir John and his little band march’d up And follow’d their grim guides. And here a village rose in sight, Where the woods look’d dark and wild, But silence reign’d in every lodge, Nor saw they man or child. Then spoke Sir John to his guides again, And ask’d their chief to see. They answer’d not, but away to the woods They pointed silently; And into the woods with quicken’d step They silently withdrew, And in their village left Sir John Alone with his vessel’s crew. But soon from the forest came again Dark warriors with their bows, And painted men on every side From brake and bush arose; And a warlike throng came up the path, That led from the river shore, And, moving quick, with hideous shouts, Their sacred Okee bore-- Great Okee, whose mysterious power Is in the earth and air, In fire and flood and stormy winds, And worketh every where. Great Okee, dress’d in painted robes, And shining chains and beads, Who in the silent night performs Unutterable deeds, And safely through the darkest hour His faithful people leads-- Great Okee cometh in the van With war-plume on his head; His brow is striped with black and white, His cheeks are gory red; And to the pale mysterious throng They now are pressing near, But Okee cometh in the van, Why should his people fear? A sudden war-whoop, wild and fierce, Rings upward to the sky, And a hundred warriors draw their bows, And a hundred arrows fly. But answering muskets quick give back To the woods a roaring sound; Each bowman flies, and Okee falls Alone upon the ground. Sir John the painted idol took,{15} And bore it to the shore; And soon a suppliant priest came down Its ransom to implore. VII. The barge is on the tide again, And rapidly it flies, For long its coming has been watch’d By anxious waiting eyes; And now those eyes are brightening, And hearts are beating light, And hope’s dim fires are lit anew, For plenty greets their sight. VIII.