The Downing legends : Stories in Rhyme :: :: University of Virginia Library

Erelong the sleeper woke refreshed,
To find himself securely meshed,
And see before his wondering eyes
A painted brave of matchless size:
A redskin tramp who chanced that way—
No matter whence—from far a-gley—

[_]

Astray.

And, finding Shiloh's pinioned son,
Had halted for some Mingo fun:
A murderous tramp who brandished slow
A tomahawk in act to throw,
And had a leering, cruel grin
Between his vulture beak and chin.

But deadly dark as seemed the case,
The archetype of Yankee race
Disdained to utter prayer or cry,

141

And faced his foeman eye to eye
With such a haughty Marian look
That even Indian muscles shook,
And all askant the hatchet flew,
And merely shored a withe in two.
Instanter stalwart Downing broke
The rest asunder at a stroke;
Then seized his gun with hunter sleight
And dared the scalping Pict to fight.

Now came a battle like to those
Of Argive palms and Ilian woes,
When heroes poured a noble flood
Of eloquence o'er fields of blood,
And magnified their godlike skill
And haught ability to kill,
Before they drew their brazen blades
And banged each other through the shades.