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The writings of Robert C. Sands

in prose and verse with a memoir of the author

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XXI.
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XXI.

“Come ye, who as hawks hover o'er
The spot where the war-club is lying,

As a commencement of hostilities, according to Heckewelder, the Indians murder one of the enemy, and leave the war-club lying near the body; it is painted with their devices, that the party attacked may know their enemies, and not execute revenge on an innocent tribe.—Page 165.


Defiled with the stain of their gore,
The foemen to battle defying;
On your dusky wings wheeling above,
Who for vengeance and slaughter come crying;
For the scent of the carnage ye love,
The groans of the wounded and dying.