Vain hope! The close had scarce been made secure, Ere Seekonk’s western marge was blazing bright, And decked with horns, and furs, and paints impure, The prophet with a comrade danced all night Around the flame, and howling, did adjure His manittoo that most abhorred the light To give him aid, and, by or force or fraud, His hated neighbor drive once more abroad. XXI. War! war! he threatened:--and when morning came,-- Though quenched the fire,--upon the margin he, All trim for strife, bent his gigantic frame O’er Seekonk’s severing flow, and toward the lea Shook his ensanguined barb and smote the stream, And muttered curses numbering three times three; Then bent his bow, and sent across the flood Darts armed with serpents’ fangs and red with blood. XXII. And brandishing his blade, he jeering said, That vengeance gave it eyes and appetite, It soon would eat, but eat in silence dread; That if the red men all were turning white, He’d seek the white men that were turning red; The path was open, and his foot was light; The Shawmut[20] hunters would with greedy ear Hear in what covert couched their stricken deer. [20] The Indian name for Boston. XXIII. Then, with a hideous yell that rent the skies, He sternly turned and tow’rd Mooshausick flew. Waban who watched the scene with blazing eyes, Swift answer gave in shouts of valor true. From threats like these our Sire might harm surmise, But that he deemed the wily wizard knew How heavy was Miantonomi’s spear, And, if ’twere needful, might be made to fear. XXIV. But, after this portentous morn, scarce sun Looked on that glade, but brought them fresh alarms; If Waban delved the shores or walked thereon, Missiles around him flew from hidden arms; His snares were plundered ere the morning shone, Clubs smeared with blood and threatening deadly harms Lay in his path, and voices strangely broke From viewless forms on shrub, or tree, or rock. XXV. Oft from the vacant air came bitter jeer In gibberish strange, and oft from under ground A hellish mockery smote the hunter’s ear, And he would start; but if he glanced around And Williams saw, he banished every fear; For well he knew his Sachem could confound Such diabolic phantoms,--he who slew, In Potowomet’s glade, the serpent manittoo. XXVI. Then taking courage he would seek the brake, Cull the straight haft, and arm it with the bone Or tooth of beaver, and the plumage take From Neyhom wild to wing and guide it on Straight to its mark, or with nice handling make Of sinewy deer the bowstring tough, or hone His glittering scalping-knife, and grimly feel How sharp its point, how keen its edge of steel. XXVII.