It was not long, with eyes and heart of flame, Ere Henry to his loved Oneyda flew: “Bless thee, my guide!”—but backward, as he came, The chief his old bewildered head withdrew, And grasped his arm, and looked and looked him through. ’Twas strange—nor could the group a smile control— The long, the doubtful scrutiny to view:— At last delight o’er all his features stole, “It is—my own,” he cried, and clasped him to his soul. XIV. “Yes! thou recall’st my pride of years, for then The bowstring of my spirit was not slack, When, spite of woods, and floods, and ambushed men, I bore thee like the quiver on my back, Fleet as the whirlwind hurries on the rack; Nor foeman then, nor cougar’s[48] crouch I feared, For I was strong as mountain cataract: And dost thou not remember how we cheered, Upon the last hill top, when white men’s huts appeared? XV. “Then welcome be my death song, and my death! Since I have seen thee, and again embraced.” And longer had he spent his toil-worn breath; But with affectionate and eager haste, Was every arm outstretched around their guest, To welcome and to bless his aged head. Soon was the hospitable banquet placed; And Gertrude’s lovely hands a balsam shed On wounds with fevered joy that more profusely bled. XVI. “But this is not a time,”—he started up, And smote his breast with woe-denouncing hand— “This is no time to fill the joyous cup, The Mammoth comes,—the foe,—the Monster Brandt,[49] With all his howling desolating band;— These eyes have seen their blade and burning pine Awake at once, and silence half your land. Red is the cup they drink; but not with wine: Awake, and watch to-night, or see no morning shine! XVII. “Scorning to wield the hatchet for his bribe, ’Gainst Brandt himself I went to battle forth:[50] Accursed Brandt! he left of all my tribe Nor man, nor child, nor thing of living birth: No! not the dog, that watched my household hearth, Escaped that night of blood, upon our plains! All perished!—I alone am left on earth! To whom nor relative nor blood remains, No!—not a kindred drop that runs in human veins![50] XVIII. “But go!—and rouse your warriors;—for, if right These old bewildered eyes could guess, by signs Of striped and starrèd banners, on yon height Of eastern cedars, o’er the creek of pines— Some fort embattled by your country shines: Deep roars the innavigable gulf below Its squarèd rock, and palisaded lines. Go! seek the light its warlike beacons show; Whilst I in ambush wait for vengeance, and the foe!” XIX.