The bear’s dark fur loose o’er his shoulders cast, His hand did only at the breast confine, The wampum wreath, which round his forehead past, Did with the flame’s reflected brightness shine; The beaver’s girdle closely swathed his waist; It’s skirts hung low, all trimm’d with ’broidery fine; The well-formed ankles the close gaiters bound, With furs befringed, and starred with tinsel round. LX. Nature’s kind feelings did his visage grace; His gently arching brow was shorn all bare, And the slight smile now fading from his face, The aspect left of serious goodness there; Though bright his eyes beneath his forehead’s base, They rather seemed to smile than fiercely glare; And the free dignity of Waban’s race Seemed moving in his limbs and breathing from his face. LXI. Williams the pledge of friendship now returned, And thanks o’erflowing to the hunter gave: “From the Great Spirit sure my brother learned His brother’s danger, when he came to save.” “Waban,” he answered, “from his lodge discerned A stranger’s fire, and heard the monsters rave. Waban has long within these wilds sojourned; But ne’er before has pale Awanux burned LXII. “His fire within this unfrequented glade. Wanders my brother from his homeward way? The storm is thick, he surely may have strayed; Or has he hunted through the weary day The rapid moose; or in this lonely shade Seeks he to trap the deer, or make essay To catch the wily beavers, who have made Their cunning wigwams in the river’s bed?” LXIII. “’Twere hard to tell my brother of the woods What cause has forced his pale-faced brother here, The red and white men have their different moods, And Narraganset’s tongue lacks terms, I fear, To tell the strifes among white multitudes-- Strifes yet unknown within these forests drear, Where undisturbed ye worship various gods, And persecution leave to white abodes. LXIV. “Let it suffice, (for weary is the night,) That late across the mighty lake I came, Seeking protection here of brethren white, From those pale chiefs who had, with scourge and flame, Driven them as me o’er sea in dangerous flight;-- Our wrongs, as our offenses, were the same: God we had worshipped as to us seemed right, And roused the vengeance of our men of might. LXV. “My brethren then had persecution fled, And much I hoped with them a home to find; But to our common God whene’er we prayed, My honest worship did not suit their mind; It differed greatly from their own, they said; Their anger kindled, and, with speech unkind, They drove me from my family and home, An exile in this dreadful storm to roam. LXVI.