Where the Pale-Face slept unguarded,
Sped the swift canoes of Red Men,
Gliding through the silent shadows.
As the sky grew red with dawning,[P]
While they dreamed of home and kindred,
Suddenly with whoop of murder
Wily Indians swarmed around them.
Skill of Pale-Face, craft of Red Man,
Met in fierce, determined battle;
While within the Fort called Ralegh
Many arrows fell, like raindrops.
Arrows tipped with serpent's poison,
Arrows tipped with blazing rosin,
Winged with savage thirst for murder,
Aimed with cruel skill to torture.
Threatened by the blazing roof-tree
Then the Pale-Face crouched in terror;
Saw the folly of resistance,
Feared his doom, and fled for safety.
Man-te-o, alert for danger,
From afar saw signs of conflict;
Saw the waves of smoke ascending
Heavenward, like prayers for rescue.
Swift, with boats and trusty warriors,
Crossed he then to Ro-a-no-ak;
Strong to help his Pale-Face brothers,
Faithful to his friendly pledges.
As the daylight slowly faded,
Hopeless of the bloody struggle,
Stealthily the Pale-Face warriors
Fled with Man-te-o's brave people.
Left they then the Fort called Ralegh,
Left the dead within its stockade;
Sought another island refuge,
Hoping there to rest in safety.
Man-te-o sought for the mother,[Q]
She with babe there born and nurtured
'Neath the shadow of disaster,
In the Land-of-Wind-and-Water.
"Come," said he, "the darkness falleth,
All your people must flee henceward;
Wan-ches-e will show no mercy,
You must not become his captive.
Take the papoose from thy bosom,
Call the white chief whom thou lovest,
Haste with me upon the flood-tide
To my wigwam on Wo-ko-kon."
Noiseless, she amid the conflict
Sought her heart's mate to flee with her;
Useless all the strife and courage,
Useless all the rude home-making;
Shrine for worship, fort for safety,
Hope of future peace and plenty,
All were vain; yet life we cherish,
Far above all boons we hold it:
So she hastened on her mission
For the life of self and loved ones.
As they neared the island border,
Pale-Face husband, child, and mother,
Man-te-o in silence leading,
Every sense alive to danger,
Suddenly the Pale-Face father
Thought him of the parting caution
Given by their absent leader:
If they fled in search of safety
On a tree to leave a token,
Whereby he might surely find them,
In the land which gave them shelter,
When he came again to seek them.[R]
By his side a sturdy live-oak
Spread its green, protecting branches;
Quick he strove to carve the token
Which should speak to all who followed.
C. R. O., in bold, plain letters[S]
Cut he in the tree's firm body,
When a random, poisoned arrow
Pierced his heart, and he fell lifeless.
With a smothered cry of horror,
In an agony of sorrow,
She would fain have lingered near him,
But that Man-te-o urged onward.
If discovered, flight was futile,
Weakness now meant worse disaster;
She must save her helpless baby
Though her heart be rent with anguish.
Frantic with love's desolation,
Strong with thoughts of home and father,
With a woman's wondrous calmness
When great peril calls for action,
Safe she placed the sleeping infant
'Cross the brawny arms of Man-te-o,
While with knife drawn from his girdle
Carved she on another live-oak
Plain, the one word "CROATOAN"[T]
As a sign to all her people.
Trusting all to savage friendship,
Cutting hope with every letter,
Praying God to guide her father
To the haven she was seeking.
Trust is woman's strongest bulwark,
All true manhood yields unto it.
As her sad eyes turned upon him
Man-te-o was moved with pity
For the brave and tender woman,
Friendless in the land without him.
On the brow of Pale-Face baby
First he made the Holy Cross-Sign;
Then upon the sad-eyed mother
Traced the sign her people taught him;
Then again the sacred symbol
Outlined on his own dark forehead;
And with open hand uplifted
Sealed his promise of protection;
Linking thus his pledge of safety
With her faith in Unseen Power.
Mute with grief, she trusted in him;
In his boat they crossed the water,
While the night fell like a mantle
Spread in mercy to help save them.
When in Cro-a-to-an they landed,
There they found the few survivors
Of that day of doom to many,
Glad once more to greet each other.
Man-te-o within his wigwam
From the cold wind gave them shelter,
Shared with them his furry bear-skins,
Made them warm, and warmth gave courage
To meet life's relentless duties.
Then he summoned all the people,
Called the old men and the young men,
Bade the squaws to come and listen,
Showed the papoose to the women.
They gazed on its tender whiteness,
Stroked the mother's flaxen tresses;
"'Tis a snow-papoose" they whispered,
"It will melt when comes the summer."
Man-te-o said to the warriors:
"Ye all know these Pale-Face people
Whom Wan-ches-e sought to murder,
They have often made us welcome.
Brave their hearts, but few are living,
If left friendless these will perish;
We have store of corn and venison,
They are hungry, let us feed them;
They have lightning for their arrows,
Let them teach us how to shoot it.
They with us shall search the forest,
And our game shall be abundant;
Let them teach us their strange wisdom
And become with us one people."
And the old men, grave in counsel,
And the young men, mute with deference,
While the uppowoc[U] was burning,
Pondered on his words thus spoken,
And to Man-te-o gave answer:
"All your words are full of wisdom;
We will share with them our venison,
They shall be as our own people."
From the isle of Ro-a-no-ak
Thus the Pale-Face fled for succor,
Thus in Cro-a-to-an's fair borders
Found a home with friendly Red Men.
Nevermore to see white faces,
Nevermore to see their home-land,
Yet to all the future ages
Sending proof of honest daring;
Forging thus a link of effort
In the chain of human progress.
FOOTNOTES:
[Footnote M: See Appendix, Note _l_.]
[Footnote N: Queen Elizabeth.]
[Footnote O: See Appendix, Note _f_.]
[Footnote P: See Appendix, Note _m_.]
[Footnote Q: Eleanor Dare.]
[Footnote R: See Appendix, Note _k_.]
[Footnote S: See Appendix, Note _k_.]
[Footnote T: See Appendix, Note _k_.]
[Footnote U: Tobacco.]
II
THE PALE-FACE MAIDEN
Nature feels no throb of pity,
Makes no pause for human heartbreak;
Though with agony we quiver,
She gives forth no sign of feeling.
Waxed and waned the moon, in season,
Ebbed and flowed the tides obedient;
Summers filled the land with plenty,
Winters chilled the summers' ardor.
No winged ships gleamed in the offing;
No Pale-Faces sought their kindred;
In the Land-of-Wind-and-Water
Roamed the Red Man unmolested.
While the babe of Ro-a-no-ak
Grew in strength and wondrous beauty;
Like a flower of the wildwood,
Bloomed beside the Indian maidens.
And Wi-no-na Skâ[V] they called her,
She of all the maidens fairest.
In the tangles of her tresses
Sunbeams lingered, pale and yellow;
In her eyes the limpid blueness
Of the noonday sky was mirrored.
And the squaws of darksome features
Smiled upon her fair young beauty;
Felt their woman hearts within them
Warming to the Pale-Face maiden.
And the braves, who scorned all weakness,
Listened to her artless prattle,
While their savage natures softened,
Of the change themselves unconscious.
Like the light of summer morning
Beaming on a world in slumber
Was the face of young Wi-no-na
To the Cro-a-to-ans who loved her.
She, whose mind bore in its dawning
Impress of developed races,
To the rude, untutored savage
Seemed divinely 'dowed with reason.
She, the heir of civilization,
They, the slaves of superstition,
Gave to her a silent rev'rence,
Growing better with such giving.
Oft she told them that the Cross-Sign,
Made by Man-te-o before them
When he talked to his own nation,
Was the symbol of a Spirit
Great, and good, and wise, and loving;
He who kept the maize-fields fruitful,
He who filled the sea with fishes,
He who made the sun to warm them
And sent game to feed His children.
If, when in their games or councils,
They grew quarrelsome and angry,
Suddenly among them standing
Was a maiden like the sunrise,
Making with her taper finger
This strange sign which they respected;
And without a word of pleading
Strife and wrath would no more vex them,
While the influence of her presence
Lingered 'round them like enchantment.
Thus the babe of Ro-a-no-ak
Grew to be the joy and teacher
Of a tribe of native heathen
In the land which gave her shelter.
And the tide of her affections
Flowed to those who gave her friendship;
Whom alone she knew as human,
Whom to her became as kindred.
[Illustration]
FOOTNOTES:
[Footnote V: Literally, "first-born white daughter."]
III
SAVAGE SORCERY
Man-to-ac, the Mighty Father,
When he filled the earth with blessings,
Deep within the heart of Woman
Hid the burning Need-of-Loving;
Which through her should warm the ages
With a flame of mutual feeling,
Throbbing through her sons and daughters
With a force beyond their power.
And this law of human loving,
Changeless through unending changes,
Fills each living heart with yearning
For another heart to love it;
And against this ceaseless craving
Creed, nor clime, nor color standeth;
Heart to heart all nature crieth
That the earth may thrill with gladness.
So the young braves of the nation,
Thrilled with love for fair Wi-no-na,
Made rude ornaments to please her,
Laid the red deer at her wigwam.
Brought her skins of furry rabbits
Soft and white as her own skin was;
Robbed the black bear and the otter
That her bed might soft and warm be.
And the children of the forest
Were uplifted by such loving
Of a higher type of being,
Who yet throbbed with human instincts.
Brave O-kis-ko loved the maiden
With a love which made him noble;
With the love that self-forgetting
Fills the soul with higher impulse.
As the sun with constant fervor,
Heat and light to earth bestowing,
Seeks for no return of blessing,
Feels no loss for all his giving,
So O-kis-ko loved Wi-no-na,
Gave her all his heart's rude homage,
Felt no loss for all his giving,
Loved her for the joy of loving.
Scorned he all fatigue and danger
Which would bring her food or pleasure;
And each day brought proof of fealty,
For his deeds were more than language.
For her sake he tried to fasten
To his rude canoe white pinions
Like the winged ships of the white man,
That with her he might sail boldly
Out towards the rosy sunrise,
Seeking for her lost grandsire[W]
For whose coming her heart saddened.
Though his red companions mocked him,
His endeavor pleased the maiden,
And her eyes beamed kindly on him,
Though no passion stirred her pulses.
For sweet maiden hopes and fancies
Filled her life with happy dreaming
Ere her woman's heart awakened
To O-kis-ko's patient waiting.
Waiting for her eyes to brighten
'Neath the ardor of his glances;
Waiting for her soul to quicken
With the answer to his longing;
Finding sweet content in silence,
Glad each day to see and serve her.
Now old Chi-co, the Magician,
Also loved the fair Wi-no-na,
All his youth to him returning
As he gazed upon her beauty.
In his wigwam pelt of gray wolf,
Antlers of the deer and bison,
Hung to prove his deeds of valor;
And he wooed the gentle maiden
With his cunning tales of prowess.
She would not rebuke his boasting,
Fearful lest her words offend him;
For her nature kind and loving
Could not scorn the vaunting Chi-co.
When he walked among the maidens,
Gay with paint and decked with feathers,
She would look on him with kindness
That the others might not scoff him;
She would smile upon his weakness,
Though she did not wish to wed him.
Chi-co's love was fierce as fire
Which from flame yields only ashes;
Which gives not for joy of giving,
But demands unceasing tribute,
More and more to feed its craving.
He grew eager and impatient,
He would share with none her favor;
All for him her eyes must brighten,
Else his frown would blight her pleasure.
When the young men played or wrestled,
If O-kis-ko came out victor;
Or returning with the hunters
He it was who bore the stag home;
If with eyes abrim with pleasure
Sweet Wi-no-na smiled upon him,
Or with timid maiden shyness
Drooped her eyes beneath his glances,
Then old Chi-co's heart would wither
With the fire of jealous fury,
Till at length in bitter anger
He determined none should win her,
As from him she turned in coldness.
Wrapped in silence grim and sullen,
Much he wandered near the water;
With his soul he took dark counsel,
Seeking for devices cruel
For the torture of his rival
And destruction of the maiden.
Though he rarely used his power,
Chi-co was a great magician.
He knew all the spells of starlight
And the link 'tween moon and water;
Knew the language of lost spirits
And the secret of their power;
Knew the magic words and symbols
Whereby man may conquer nature.
Long he plotted,--much he brooded,
While he gathered from the water
Mussel-pearls all streaked and piedèd,[X]
All with rays like purple halos.
Such pearls are the souls of Naiads
Who have disobeyed the Sea-King,
And in mussel-shells are prisoned
For this taint of human frailty.
When by man released from durance
These souls, grateful for their freedom,
Are his slaves, and ever render
Good or evil at his bidding.
Chi-co steeped each one he gathered
In a bath of mystic brewing;
Told each purple, piedèd pearl-drop
What the evil was he plotted.
Never once his purpose wavered,
Never once his fury lessened;
Nursing vengeance as a guerdon
While the mussel-pearls he polished.
Then a new canoe he fashioned,
Safe, and strong, and deep he made it;[Y]
And then sought to work his magic
On the innocent Wi-no-na;
Asked the maiden to go with him
In his boat across the water.
"Come," said he, "to Ro-a-no-ak,
Where the waves are white with blossoms,
Where the grapes hang ripe in clusters,
Come with me and drink their juices."
[Illustration: "Then a new canoe he fashioned"]
And the innocent Wi-no-na
Listened to his artful pleading;
Went with him in search of pleasure,
Glad to show him friendly feeling.
While with idle stroke they floated
To the fragrant lily-blossoms,
He a string of pearls gave to her,
Smooth and polished, pied and purple.
'Round her snowy neck she placed them
With no thought of harm or cunning;
And with simple, maiden speeches
Filled the time as they sped onward.
To each pearl had Chi-co chanted,
Each had bathed in mystic water,
Each held fast the same weird power,
Till the time grew ripe for evil.
On the waves they could not harm her,
There the Sea-King ruled them ever;
But when on the shore she landed
They would work their evil mission.
On the shore of Ro-a-no-ak
Chi-co sent his boat with vigor.
Lithe and happy she sprang shoreward,
When,--from where her foot first lightly
Pressed the sand with human imprint,--
On--away--towards the thicket,
Sprang _a White Doe_, fleet and graceful.
His revenge thus wrought in safety,
Drifting seaward Chi-co chanted:
"Go, White Doe, hide in the forest,
Feed upon the sweet wild-grasses;
No winged arrow e'er shall harm you,
No Red Hunter e'er shall win you;
Roam forever, fleet and fearless,
Living free and yet in fetters."
O fair maiden! born and nurtured
'Neath the shadow of disaster!
Isle of Fate was Ro-a-no-ak,
In the Land-of-Wind-and-Water.
Nevermore to fill with gladness
The sad heart of stricken mother;
Nevermore to hear the wooing
Of the brave and true O-kis-ko.
Gone thy charm of youthful beauty,
Gone thy sway o'er savage natures;
Doomed to flee before the hunter,
Doomed to roam the lonely island,
Doomed to bondage e'en in freedom.
Is the seal of doom eternal?
Hath the mussel-pearl all power?
Cannot _love_ thy fetters loosen?
[Illustration]
FOOTNOTES:
[Footnote W: Governor White, of the lost colony.]
[Footnote X: See Appendix, Note _n_.]
[Footnote Y: See Appendix, Note _o_.]
IV
THE COUNTER-CHARM
Man-te-o and all his warriors
Long and far sought for Wi-no-na;
Sought to find the sky-eyed maiden
Sent by Man-to-ac, the Mighty,
To the Cro-a-to-ans to bless them,
And to make them wise and happy.
As a being more than mortal,
As a deity they held her;
And when no more seen among them
Lamentations filled the island.
Through Wo-ko-kon's sandy stretches,
Through the bog-lands of Po-mou-ik,
Even unto Das-a-mon-que-peu,
Hunted they the missing maiden;
If perchance some other nation,
Envious of their peace and plenty,
Had the maiden boldly captured,
For themselves to win her power.
Louder grew their lamentations
When they found no trail to follow;
Wilder grew their threats of vengeance
'Gainst the tribe which held her captive.
While they wailed the Pale-Face Mother,
She who once was brave for love's sake,
Weak from hardships new and wearing,
Utterly bereft of kindred,
Her heart's comfort thus torn from her,
Died beneath her weight of sorrow.
And a pity, soft and human,
Though he knew no name to call it,
Thrilled the Red Man as he laid her
'Neath the forest leaves to slumber.
But the wary, wily Chi-co
Told his secret unto no one,
While he listened to the stories,
Strange and true, told by the hunters
Of a fleet and graceful White Doe
On the banks of Ro-a-no-ak.
And the hunters said, no arrow
Howsoever aimed could reach her;
Said the deer herd round her gathered,
And where e'er she led they followed.
The old women of the nation
Heard the tales about this White Doe.
Children they of superstition,
With their faith firm in enchantment,
Linked the _going_ of the maiden
With the _coming_ of the White Doe.
They believed in magic powers,
They knew Chi-co's hopeless passion,
So they shook their heads and whispered,
Looked mysterious at each other,
"Ho," they whispered to each other,
"Chi-co is a great Magician,
Chi-co should go hunt this White Doe;
He is not too old for loving;
Love keeps step with Youth and Courage;
Old age should not make him tremble.
Timid is a doe, and gentle
Like a maiden,--like Wi-no-na.
Oho! Oho!" and they chuckled,
Casting dark looks at old Chi-co,
"He," said they, "has 'witched our maiden."
When O-kis-ko heard the whispers
Of the garrulous old women,
Glad belief he gave unto them
That the Doe on Ro-a-no-ak
Was in truth the Pale-Face Maiden
Wrung from him by cruel magic.
He was not a gabbling boaster,
He could think and act in silence;
And alone he roamed the island
Seeking this White Doe to capture,
So that he might tame and keep her
Near him to assuage his sorrow.
All in vain,--no hand could touch her.
All in vain,--no hunter won her.
Up the dunes of Ro-a-no-ak
Still she led the herd of wild deer.
Then O-kis-ko sought We-nau-don,
The Magician of Po-mou-ik.[Z]
Gave him store of skins and wampum,
Promised all his greed demanded,
If he would restore the maiden,
Break the spell which held her spirit.
[Illustration: The magician of Po-mou-ik]
In his heart We-nau-don cherished
Hatred for his rival Chi-co
For some boyhood's cause of anger,
For defeat in public wrestling;
And because of this he welcomed
Now the time to vent his malice.
So he promised from enchantment
To release the captive maiden.
In the days of pristine nature,
In the dells of Ro-a-no-ak,
Bubbling from the earth's dark caverns,
Was a spring of magic water.
There the Naiads held their revels,
There in secret met their lovers;
And they laid a spell upon it
Which should make true lovers happy;
For to them true love was precious.
He who drank of it at midnight
When the Harvest Moon was brightest,
Using as a drinking-vessel
Skull-bowl of his greatest rival
Killed in open, honest combat,
And by summer sunshine whitened,
He gained youth perennial from it
And the heart he wished to love him.
He who bathed within its waters,
Having killed a dove while moaning,
And had killed no other creature
Since three crescent moons had rounded;
Vowing to be kind and helpful
To the sad and weary-hearted:
He received the magic power
To undo all spells of evil
Which divided faithful lovers.
In this spring had bathed We-nau-don,
And he held its secrets sacred;
But a feeling ever moved him
To make glad the heavy-hearted.
So he showed unto O-kis-ko
Where to find the magic water;
With this counter-charm, he told him
How to free the charmed Wi-no-na:
"In a shark's tooth, long and narrow
In a closely wrought triangle,
Set three mussel-pearls of purple,
Smooth and polished with much rubbing.
To an arrow of witch-hazel,
New, and fashioned very slender,
Set the shark's tooth, long and narrow,
With its pearl-inlaid triangle.
From the wing of living heron
Pluck one feather, white and trusty;
With this feather wing the arrow,
That it swerve not as it flyeth.
Fashioned thus with care and caution,
Let no mortal eye gaze on it;
Tell no mortal of your purpose;
Secretly at sunset place it
In the spring of magic water.
Let it rest there through three sunsets,
Then when sunrise gilds the tree-tops
Take it dripping from the water,
At the rising sun straight point it,
While three times these words repeating:
_Mussel-pearl arrow, to her heart go;
Loosen the fetters which bind the White Doe;
Bring the lost maiden back to O-kis-ko._
With this arrow hunt the White Doe,
Have no timid fear of wounding;
When her heart it enters boldly
Chi-co's charm will melt before it."
Every word O-kis-ko heeded,
Hope, once dead, now cheered his spirit.
From the sea three pearls he gathered;
From the thicket brought witch-hazel
For the making of the arrow;
From the heron's wing a feather
Plucked to true its speed in flying.
Patiently he cut and labored,
As for love's sake man will labor;
Shaped the arrow, new and slender,
Set the pearls into the shark's tooth,
Fastened firm the heron's feather,
With a faith which mastered reason.
In the magic spring he steeped it,
Watching lest some eye should see it;
Through three sunsets steeped and watched it;
Three times o'er the charm repeated
While the sunrise touched the tree-tops;
Then prepared to test its power.
[Illustration]
FOOTNOTES:
[Footnote Z: See Appendix, Note _s_.]
V
THE HUNT
In the Land-of-Wind-and-Water
Long the Summer-Glory lingered,
Loath to yield its ripened beauty
To the cold embrace of Winter.
And the greenness of the forest
Gave no sign of coming treason,
Till the White Frost without warning
Hung his banners from the tree-tops.
Then a blush of brilliant color
Decked each shrub with tinted beauty;
Gold, and brown, and scarlet mingled
Till no color seemed triumphant;
And the Summer doomed to exile
Fled before the chilling Autumn.
While the glow of colors deepened,
The proud Weroance Win-gin-a,
Chief of Das-a-mon-gue-pue land,
Made a feast for all his people;
Called them forth with bow and arrow
To a test of skill and valor.
He was weary of the mysteries
Whispered of the famous White Doe,
Whose strange courage feared no hunter,
For no arrow ever reached her.
"Ha!" said he, "a skilful hunter
Is not daunted by a white doe;
Craven hearts make trembling fingers,
Arrows fail when shot by cowards.
_I_ will shoot this doe so fearless,
Her white skin shall be my mantle,[AA]
Her white meat shall serve for feasting,
And my braves shall cease from fearing.
From the fields the maize invites us,
Sturgeons have been fat and plenty.
We are weary of fish-eating,
We will feast on meat of white deer."
Messengers of invitation
Sent he to the other nations,
Saying, "Come and hunt the White Doe,
Bring your surest, fleetest arrows;
We will eat the meat of white deer,
We will drink the purple grape-juice,
Burn the uppowoc in pipe-bowls,
While we shame the trembling hunters."
But the Cro-a-to-ans kept silence,
Sent no answer to his greeting.
They believed the charmèd White Doe
Was Wi-no-na Skâ's pure spirit,
Who in freedom still was happy,
And they would not wound or harm her,
They would shoot no arrows at her,
Nor help feast upon her body.
Then O-kis-ko answered boldly;
"I will go and hunt this White Doe,
I will shoot from my own ambush,
I will take my fleetest arrow."
And the men and women wondered,
For they knew his former loving.
But O-kis-ko kept his secret,
Showed no one his new-made arrow;
'Round his shoulders threw a mantle
Made of skins of many sea-gulls,
So that he could hide his arrow,
And no mortal eye could see it
Till he sent it on its mission
Winged with magic, fraught with mercy.
Thus he went to Ro-a-no-ak,
Love, and hope, and faith impelling,
Conscious of his aim unerring,
Trusting in the arrow's power.
From Po-mou-ik came Wan-ches-e,
For the hunt and feast impatient,
Boasting of his skill and valor,
Saying in his loud vainglory:
"I will teach the braves to shoot deer,
Young men now are not great hunters,
Hearts like squaws they have within them,
Nothing fears them but a papoose."