“Two warriors, standing, mock her cries, and four, In the fire-water drenched, lie here and there In slumber deep, from which they woke no more. One arrow Waban sent;--through shoulder bare Transfixed, one scoffer fell, and quenched in gore His kindling brand. Then, springing from his lair, As panther springs, with the bright glancing knife Did Waban dart, and, hand to hand in strife, LVIII. “Cleft down the second, who, with wild amaze, But faintly fought;--straight from the Bright-Eyed Fawn The bands were cut, and from the rising blaze She springs unscathed. The slumberers on the lawn Were not forgot: they slept--they sleep--yet gaze (If gaze that be which is all sightless); dawn, Noon, and night, are one. Broad Antler’s ghost Wandered not long upon Sowaniu’s coast; LIX. “Fully avenged, he sought the spirit band Of his brave fathers, whilst the daughter, won By Waban from the cruel Pequot’s hand, Dwelt in his lodge, the mother of his son. All now are gone--gone to the spirit land, And Waban’s left all desolate and lone.” Such tales the evening hours beguiled, and filled With breathless zest, or with blank horror chilled. LX. They slept at last, though piercing cold the night, And round them howled the hungry beasts of prey; Nor broke their slumber, till the dawning light Gleamed in the east,--when they resumed their way. Encrusted hard and flashing far and bright, The snow sent back the rising solar ray; Mooshausick’s wave was bridged from shore to shore, And safe they passed the solid water o’er. LXI. Westward till now his course did Waban draw; He shunned Weybosset, the accustomed ford, Where dwelt dark Chepian’s priest, that grim Pawaw, Who well he knew the Yengee’s faith abhorred, And who, perchance, if he our Founder saw Bearing the pipe of peace, might ill accord With such kind purpose, and, on evil wing To Narraganset’s host strange omens bring. LXII. Now down the western bank their course they speed, Passing Pawtuxet in their onward way; And fast doth Indian town to town succeed, Some large, some small, in populous array; And here and there was many an ample mead, Where green the maize had grown in summer’s ray, And forth there poured, where’er they passed along, Of naked children many a gazing throng. LXIII. Their small sunk eyes, like sparks from burning coal, On the white stranger stared; but when they spied The Wampanoag, they began to roll With all the fury--mimicking the pride-- Of their fierce fathers; and the savage soul, Nursed e’en in youth on thoughts in carnage dyed, Instinctively, with simultaneous swell, Sent from their lips the unfledged battle yell. LXIV.