  In the Land-of-Wind-and-Water, Loud the sea bemoaned its sameness; Dashing shoreward with impatience To explore the landward mysteries. On the sand the waves spread boldly, Vainly striving to reach higher; Then abashed by vain ambition, Glided to their ordained duty. There the pine-tree, tall and stately, Whispered low the ocean's murmur; Strove to soothe the restless waters With its lullaby of sighing. There the tall and dank sea-grasses, From the storm-tide gathered secrets Of the caverns filled with treasures, Milky pearls and tinted coral, Stores of amber and of jacinth, In the caves festooned with sea-weed, Where the Sea-King held his revels And the Naiads danced in beauty. Dowered with the sunshine's splendor, Juicy grapes grew in profusion, Draping all the trees with greenness, And the maize grew hard and yellow, With the sunshine in its kernels. Through the forest roamed the black bear, And the red deer boldly herded; Through the air flew birds of flavor, And the sea was full of fishes, Till the Red Man knew no hunger, And his wigwam hung with trophies. There brave Man-te-o, the Faithful, Ruled the Cro-a-to-ans with firmness, Dwelt in peace beside the waters, Smoked his pipe beneath the pine-tree, Gazed with pride upon his bear-skins Which hung ready for the winter. Told his people all the marvels Of the Land-of-the-Pale-Faces; Of the ships with wings like sea-birds Wherein he had crossed the water; Of the Pale-Face Weroanza Of her robes of silken texture, Of her wisdom and her power; Told them of her warlike people And their ships which breathed the lightning. How he pledged with them a friendship, Hoping they would come to teach him How to make his people mighty, How to make them strong in battle So the other tribes would fear them. And the dream of future greatness Filled the Cro-a-to-ans with courage; And their hearts grew warm and friendly To the race of white-faced strangers. When bold white men came among them, To the isle of Ro-a-no-ak, Man-te-o, the friendly Weroance, Faithful proved to all his pledges. Smoked with them the pipe of friendship, Took their God to be his Father; Took upon his swarthy forehead Their strange emblem of salvation, Emblem of the One Great Spirit, Father of all tribes and nations. Bade them fear the false Wan-ches-e, And the Weroance Win-gin-a, Whose hearts burned with bitter hatred For the men they feared in combat, For the strangers who defied them. When the Pale-Face, weak and hungry, Feeble from continued labor, Shivered in the blasts of winter Which blew cold across the water, Then Wan-ches-e planned their ruin, With Win-gin-a sought to slay them. To the isle of Ro-a-no-ak, 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, 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; 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; Hoping there to rest in safety. |
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