But as he drew the arrow to the head, The cord snapt short; he dashed the weapon down, And leaping from the rock upon the glade, With glittering scalping-knife and haughty frown, Before the assailant stood, who paused, surveyed,-- Measuring the hunter’s height from heel to crown,-- Then, swift as thought, the vengeful hatchet sent; At Waban’s head the well-aimed weapon went. LI. But well the wary hunter knew his foe And read his murderous purpose in his eye; He marked the coming steel, and, bending low, Let it pass on and cleave the air on high; Behind him rings the cliff with shivering blow, And far around its scattered atoms fly; Then with wild yells they wave the scalping-knife, Together rush, and thrust and strike for life. LII. O! ’twas a fearful scene--a moment dire; For on the issue of that contest lay The lives of infants, mother, and of sire, And the fair fame that crowns a distant day. Soon closed the champions by the glimmering fire, Limbs locked in limbs in terrible affray; They writhe--they wrench--they stagger to and fro, Hands grasping hands that aim the fatal blow. LIII. Now struggling by the flames they past from sight, For Williams lingered yet to guard the cave; And there, enveloped in a deeper night, With fiercer fury did the contest rave;-- The blow, the wrench, the pantings of the fight, The crash of branches and of thickets gave A dreadful note of every effort made, Where life sought life within that shuddering shade. LIV. The mother sank beside the father, pale And scared; the children her affright partook; At times they raised the sympathetic wail; At times with breathless terror mutely shook. Williams peered out along the kindling vale; No sign of other foe there met his look; Then with a word that quick return presaged, He rushed tow’rd where the doubtful contest raged. LV. He passed the flame and paused--for on his ear There came, with one loud crash, a heavy sound; He listens still; and silence, sudden, drear, Reigns o’er the glade, and through the gloom profound. Who is the victim? Evil-boding fear Tells him that Waban gasps upon the ground; One bubbling groan, as if the life-blood gushed; A shuddering struggle then--and all was hushed. LVI. In dire suspense the anxious father stood, Yet did he still unmanly terrors quell; His hand, yet innocent of human blood, Now grasped the axe to meet the victor fell; When from beneath the arches of the wood, Rang the far-trembling, death-announcing yell, So like a demon’s issuing from his pit-- Who but that savage could the sound emit? LVII.