Till from the groups another Sachem sprung, To tell his deeds, and count his foemen slain; Lancing the war-post as his numbers rung, As if he slew his vanquished foe again; Whilst on his words the listening warriors hung, And drank with greedy ears the bloody strain, Cheering at times with plaudits loud and long, The butcheries numbered in the martial song. V. Amid the tumult of this boisterous rout, Williams, unmarked, had gained the central glade, When all at once an unaccustomed shout Startled the groups around the fires arrayed, And staring eyes, and pointing hands about, Proclaimed the strangers to their view betrayed; Then died that hum, like the past whirlwind’s roar, When the dust rises on the distant shore. VI. And all were hushed, while round them, man to man They glanced, and wonder in their faces grew, Till through the camp the sullen rumor ran, “Pale-faced Awanux! Wampanoag too!” And warriors, kindling at the words, began To grasp their weapons all that gathering through; When, lo! they opened like a parting tide, And once again their murmurs lulled and died. VII. And Williams paused; for, from the severed crowd, A chief advancing trod the breathing plain; Bold was his port, his bearing high and proud, A lance of length did his right hand sustain; The glittering wampum did his brows enshroud, His nodding plumage wore a crimson stain; His armlets gleamed--his belt, with figures traced, Supported skirts with purple pëag laced. VIII. His naked limbs were stained a sable hue, His naked chest and face a crimson red; Streamed backward from his brow two ribbons blue, And with his long black hair wild dalliance made; Suspended from his belt, half sheathed from view, His scalping knife and tomahawk were stayed; His eyes below his lowering forehead glowed Like two bright stars beneath a thunder cloud. IX. With strong majestic stride and lofty gait, He neared our Founder and his dusky guide, Who, in half tone, could but ejaculate, “Miantonomi!” when his Indian pride Choked further utterance, though still elate, Grasping his axe, with nostrils spreading wide, Self-poised he stood; appearing to await The approaching chief, who glanced disdainful hate. X. Our Founder chid his guide, and high displayed The calumet in one white hand, the while He raised the other, and mild gesture made Bespeaking peace. Well did the act beguile And soothe the Sachem’s passion, and he said, Turning from Waban, with a scornful smile: “Has, then, Awanux come to hear the song? Our darts are thirsty, and our arms are strong!” XI.