At last he said, “My brother doubtless knows-- He has a book which his Great Spirit wrote: Brave were my fathers, yet did they repose With hope in Chepian, and his aid besought When forth they marched to shed the blood of foes; But maybe they, like Waban, never thought That they were cowards, when they fiercely prayed That Evil One to give their vengeance aid. XXXIII. “Waban will think, and should it seem like fear-- Waban ne’er shrunk when round him battle roared, And at the stake when bound, his torturers near, Among the clouds thy brother’s spirit soared And scorned her foes--but should it seem like fear To worship Chepian, whom his sires adored, He will no more be that dread demon’s slave; For ne’er will Waban fill a coward’s grave.” XXXIV. Thus in grave converse did they pass the day, Till night returning brought them slumbers sweet; And, with the morrow, shone the sun’s broad ray Serenely down on Waban’s lone retreat. Then Williams might have journeyed on his way, But doubt and darkness still restrained his feet; And so with Waban made he further stay To learn about the tribes that round him lay. XXXV. Hence may he secretly to Salem write, And friends approving, still his plans arrange; For Waban soon will bear his peltry light To Salem’s mart, and there may interchange The mute epistles, meant for friendly sight,-- Unseen of eyes inimical or strange, Lest rumor of them reach the bigot’s ear, And persecution find him even here. XXXVI. Among the several tribes around to go, And sound the feelings of each different clan, Seemed not unmeet; but little did he know How they might treat a pale-faced outlawed man, Friendless and homeless, wandering to and fro, And flying from his own white brethren’s ban; They, for a price, might strike the fatal blow, Or bear him captive to his ruthless foe. XXXVII. Better it were, so deemed our Father well, To seek and win the savage by degrees, Since to his lot the dangerous duty fell, (For such did seem high Heaven’s all-wise decrees), To found unarmed a State where rung the yell Of barbarous nations on the midnight breeze; Against the scalping-knife with no defence Or safeguard but his heart’s benevolence. XXXVIII. With only this, his buckler and his brand-- This, yet unproved and doubted by the best,-- In cheerless wilds, mid many a savage band, Spurned from his home, by Christian men opprest, Must he the warrior’s weapon turn, his hand Unnerve, and gently o’er his rugged breast Gain mastery. The panther by the hare Must be approached and softened in his lair. XXXIX.