IX. Their dangerous post those warriors kept, Then the loud, startling war-whoop raised, And sought, with footstep quick and light, Screen in thick wilderness from sight. X. The proud flotilla in the bay Cast anchor near the close of day, From old, hereditary haunt, And startling in his mossy lair, With iron clang of arms, the bear. That kissed, by gentle south wind fann'd, XI. It would have been a thrilling sight Troops to have seen in trappings bright B2 Whose guns had poured the leaden rain And heard the trumpet's martial call By leaders who had freely bled In wars of mighty Louis, led Chiefs who on Steenkirk's plain had fought, And battle's heart at Landen sought. XII. De Nonville with an eye of skill And tents were pitched, by his command, Well guarded on the weaker flanks, By water and opposing banks; While open front, or esplanade, Should call upon the host "to arm!" XIII. Their savage allies plumed for strife, And stern Algonquin of the north, With blood and tears, were going forth To crush the conqueror, and leave No mourner for the slain to grieve, If vengeance could the task achieve. XIV. Nose, ear and neck, with jewels hung, Bore strange unlikeness to the dress, And discipline of soldiers, famed Whenever "warrior" is named: Whose charge had strewn the earth with dead While Luxemburgh and Vauban led, Or in the combat, man to man, Had seen with hardihood unshrinking The plume of Conde in the van, Where Death his reddest draught was drinking. XV. Tribes, who with Yonnondio came Hereditary wrongs to right, Abandoning pursuit of game And priest of that strange order known In Braved, to extend their mystic league, Sought with the vesper hymn and psalm Round holy Horicon with prayer, Nor scrupled with the cross and sword, To head a wild, barbaric horde. XVI. D'Lisle made use of subtle arts And robed his limbs in skin of beast, And sate, in joyous fellowship, With quivered warriors at the feast; Dark, floating Rumor linked his name, Among his countrymen, with shameSome even whispered that he fled In terror from his native clime, And bore a keen stiletto, red From point to hilt with crime; And many hinted that his soul Was far too proud for priestly stole, |