And hushed, half-breathed, a loved one's name?
Through the flowery wall
Of her vine-woven forest hall,
A dark, vindictive visage peered,
With paint, denoting war, besmeared.
Not well could eloquence have framed
The language by that look proclaimed:
It told of prize, long sought, at last
In hard, unyielding clutches fast-
Of pleasure such as panthers feel,
Though longing for a bloody meal,
When hunted down their prey;
For glared keen eye-balls with a joy
That would caress, and then destroy
Though hunger chid delay.
A something, in that hideous face,
Could Blanche of one remembered trace;
For the clear outlines, full and bold,
Less of the red, than white man told;
And its fixed look of glad surprise,
Despite of barbarous disguise,
Announced that she was known full well,
Plainly as word could syllable.
As howls the wood-wolf to his pack
When some fair doe rewards his search,
And the far hills give answer back,
Scaring the wild-bird from her perch-
So did that man of evil eye
Out-pour one long, loud signal-cry,
To which the groves replied in tone
As fierce and startling as his own.
Roused was the lady by the sound,
And Wun-nut-hay looked wildly round
For outlet of escape in vain :
Dark forms, in Huron garb bedight,
Like serpents glided into sight,
And bound with thongs the twain.
The party, with their scowling chief,
Held hurried conference and brief
In harsh and guttural tone;
Then left the violated bower
Like men, in dread of hostile power,
Who trust to speed alone.
Mourn for the lovely cabin-home that smiled
On the dim borders of the forest old!
Changed to a scene of desolation wild,
Its arbor, walls and portico, behold!
Though faint the mark of footprints on the mould, Fearless and fleet avenger will pursue
While shadowy Night comes down on wave and wold: :
For captive made, by fell, marauding crew, Is one more dear than life-his partner fond and true!
Eastward the spoilers held their way,
And when the forest-edge was won,
Shone on green leaf and waving spray,
A glare more lurid than the ray
Of red, descending sun.
Poor Blanche threw back one parting gaze,
Her cottage-home was in a blaze;
Thick smoke hung round it like a pall,
Fire darted out from roof and wall ;
Black cinders on her arbor fell,
Fierce flames rang out a crackling knell;
Vines, trained above the porch to meet,
Were fast consuming in the heat;
And clustering rose-trees, taught to shade
The windows by her fingers fair,
With wooing winds no longer played
In green and crimson robe array'd,
By the hot breath of ruin made
Black, verdureless and bare :
And birds that she had lured away
From lone, deep haunts in forest gray,
To hop unscared around her door-
From that ill-fated dwelling fled,
As if they knew the hand that fed
Could fling them crumbs no more.
Soon was the burning wreck from view
Veiled by dark, interposing trees;
But well, too well the lady knew
By voices on the passing breeze-
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