 | [The story of an ambuscade, in] Werner's Readings and Recitations |  |
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THE STORY OF AN AMBUSCADE.
Yes, children, I can see it still, that rude old fortress there,
Crouched on a sparsely-wooded hill, beside the far frontier;
For thence brigands of Mexico and wild red warriors came,
About them rose a fume of blood, a storm of clouded flame.
Crouched on a sparsely-wooded hill, beside the far frontier;
For thence brigands of Mexico and wild red warriors came,
About them rose a fume of blood, a storm of clouded flame.
Yet round the ramparts, sunset-flushed, our happy Colonel trod,
As if their stones had caught a gleam from the golden streets of God;
For there his wife, his nobler life, in heavenly beauty smiled,
And, folded in his loyal arms, he held aloft their child.
As if their stones had caught a gleam from the golden streets of God;
For there his wife, his nobler life, in heavenly beauty smiled,
And, folded in his loyal arms, he held aloft their child.
One morn—I well remember it—a June morn, fresh and bland,
The Colonel with a score of guards rode down the summer-land,
His lady on her bright, bay horse—a matron-rose aglow—
And little Lulu, laughing, perched across his saddle-bow.
The Colonel with a score of guards rode down the summer-land,
His lady on her bright, bay horse—a matron-rose aglow—
And little Lulu, laughing, perched across his saddle-bow.
We passed—the Colonel's comrade staunch, his right-hand man was I—
By forest rim, and coverts dim beneath the breezy sky;
A pleasant camping-place we reached amid tall locust trees,
Made musical the livelong day by murmuring of the bees.
By forest rim, and coverts dim beneath the breezy sky;
A pleasant camping-place we reached amid tall locust trees,
Made musical the livelong day by murmuring of the bees.
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When had I seen our pretty queen with joy so blithely stirred!
She flitted on from group to group like a gay April bird;
Suddenly I saw a dazzling streak of flame, I heard a deadly whirr,
And vicious as a serpent's tongue a keen shaft hissed by her.
She flitted on from group to group like a gay April bird;
Suddenly I saw a dazzling streak of flame, I heard a deadly whirr,
And vicious as a serpent's tongue a keen shaft hissed by her.
Then rose the war-whoop resonant, and with it flashed and flew
An arrowy sleet so thick and fleet it blurred the startled blue;
A shrewd Apaché ambuscade! we scarce might fight or fly,
But, trapped in utter impotence, could only turn to—die.
An arrowy sleet so thick and fleet it blurred the startled blue;
A shrewd Apaché ambuscade! we scarce might fight or fly,
But, trapped in utter impotence, could only turn to—die.
'Twas like a night-mare dream to me—our Colonel's lowering gaze,
The quick surprise in startled eyes, the agonized amaze.
His lady's face an instant writhed in horror and despair;
The next, her soul had seemed to melt like white mist on the air.
The quick surprise in startled eyes, the agonized amaze.
His lady's face an instant writhed in horror and despair;
The next, her soul had seemed to melt like white mist on the air.
Murdered! in such brief space as serves to draw one sobbing breath!
But calm, and clear, through all the drear, fierce scene of blood and death,
My leader's solemn, last command smote like a tolling bell,
As there, above his silent Love, he waved a stern farewell:
But calm, and clear, through all the drear, fierce scene of blood and death,
My leader's solemn, last command smote like a tolling bell,
As there, above his silent Love, he waved a stern farewell:
“I charge you, Gilbert, save the child!” My darling strove to speak,
But fainted with her white rose face against my bronzéd cheek;
When half-blinded by the smoke I almost fell across a ghastly corse,
And mid the barbarous din I heard the neigh of a swift trampling horse.
But fainted with her white rose face against my bronzéd cheek;
When half-blinded by the smoke I almost fell across a ghastly corse,
And mid the barbarous din I heard the neigh of a swift trampling horse.
From out the smoke his forehead broke, his frightened eyes a-glare,
What horse—ah! what horse had met me there?
My own black Juan! at a word he knew me—on his back
I vaulted with my helpless charge and scoured the homeward track.
What horse—ah! what horse had met me there?
My own black Juan! at a word he knew me—on his back
I vaulted with my helpless charge and scoured the homeward track.
Alas! Apaché sight is keen, we could not cheat our foes;
We matched the wind, but yet behind the sullen echoes rose;
And every hoof-stroke Juan made was trebled to mine ear,
And bold and fast the Indians massed their forces on our rear.
We matched the wind, but yet behind the sullen echoes rose;
And every hoof-stroke Juan made was trebled to mine ear,
And bold and fast the Indians massed their forces on our rear.
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I, maddened, wheeled!—a tomahawk blow!—my life seemed smitten out,
And all my scattered senses fled in dark disastrous rout;
My arms relaxed, I feebly felt the wounded maiden fall,
Ere blackness of dense darkness bound me in its pall!
And all my scattered senses fled in dark disastrous rout;
My arms relaxed, I feebly felt the wounded maiden fall,
Ere blackness of dense darkness bound me in its pall!
When next I woke to consciousness, in the old fort I lay,
Whither, stunned, bleeding, bruised, from out the desperate fray,
But clutching still unwittingly my Juan's mane, they said—
In reeling plight, beyond the fight, I rode less quick than dead.
Whither, stunned, bleeding, bruised, from out the desperate fray,
But clutching still unwittingly my Juan's mane, they said—
In reeling plight, beyond the fight, I rode less quick than dead.
Another of our ambushed band—but one—survived the strife;
And he, ah me! he cursed the fate whose grace had spared his life.
“Would I had died,” our Colonel cried, “on that accurséd morn!
The blast which blights the tender blade hath passed the bearded corn.
And he, ah me! he cursed the fate whose grace had spared his life.
“Would I had died,” our Colonel cried, “on that accurséd morn!
The blast which blights the tender blade hath passed the bearded corn.
“Henceforth, I track the Apaché's trails; your hand, my friend, your hand,—
Pledge that we two shall ride afar, to search for him in every land!”
Ere long his fame grew terrible! From streams to mountain caves
The whole Apaché realm became a desert place of graves;
Pledge that we two shall ride afar, to search for him in every land!”
Ere long his fame grew terrible! From streams to mountain caves
The whole Apaché realm became a desert place of graves;
He led his men by hill and glen, a warrior gaunt and grim,
And still I vowed 'neath calm or cloud to hunt the wilds with him.
At length, slowly and all solemnly—in truth, 'twas passing strange,
Across his brooding spirit there fell a wondrous change.
And still I vowed 'neath calm or cloud to hunt the wilds with him.
At length, slowly and all solemnly—in truth, 'twas passing strange,
Across his brooding spirit there fell a wondrous change.
If yet he rode the savage wastes, 'twas not to burn or slay;
The bleak December of his mood seemed melting into May.
His band dismissed, his martial rank without a sigh resigned,
A new, mysterious influence swayed the actions of his mind.
The bleak December of his mood seemed melting into May.
His band dismissed, his martial rank without a sigh resigned,
A new, mysterious influence swayed the actions of his mind.
And once he murmured in deep sleep—or was it trancéd rest?—
“Lead on! ah, tender angel, lead towar'd the brightening west;
There love abides between the tides in that far valley land.
See! the white tent, the radiant rill, the distant Rio Grande!”
“Lead on! ah, tender angel, lead towar'd the brightening west;
There love abides between the tides in that far valley land.
See! the white tent, the radiant rill, the distant Rio Grande!”
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And still I followed through fair noons, or midnight shadows dim;
Had I not vowed to ride, to hunt, to search the world with him?
When on a fragrant eve of June, divinely soft and clear,
We topped a height steeped in moonlight the far frontier.
Had I not vowed to ride, to hunt, to search the world with him?
When on a fragrant eve of June, divinely soft and clear,
We topped a height steeped in moonlight the far frontier.
His horse was checked, and on his face the moonshine fell with weird gleam.
He faintly spake, as scarce awake, “My dream! my dream! my dream!”
And on his upturned brow were beads of fiery-misted dew,
Above the eyes his lightning heart was flashing keenly through.
He faintly spake, as scarce awake, “My dream! my dream! my dream!”
And on his upturned brow were beads of fiery-misted dew,
Above the eyes his lightning heart was flashing keenly through.
“The valley of my dream!” he said; “between two rocky hills—
Mark, mark midway the snow-white tent, and hear the rush of rills!
The valley of my dream! O Christ! I thank thee for this sight.”
And with the word, impetuously he hurried down the height.
Mark, mark midway the snow-white tent, and hear the rush of rills!
The valley of my dream! O Christ! I thank thee for this sight.”
And with the word, impetuously he hurried down the height.
I spurred behind; but each, ere long, subdued his stormy pace;
An Indian camp was seen, its “Braves” gone woodward to the chase.
Hark! on the night from out the white and glittering tent-roof stole
Such music as winds bewitchingly about the harshest soul.
An Indian camp was seen, its “Braves” gone woodward to the chase.
Hark! on the night from out the white and glittering tent-roof stole
Such music as winds bewitchingly about the harshest soul.
And as it thrilled, there passed from out the bright folds withdrawn,
A creature like the herald-star that crowns the early dawn.
He paused—and on my comrade's eyes her startled glances turned,
As if within their depths half-wakened memories burned.
A creature like the herald-star that crowns the early dawn.
He paused—and on my comrade's eyes her startled glances turned,
As if within their depths half-wakened memories burned.
And down the range of years of change her deathless instinct sought
Something that in this stranger recalled a vision in her thought;
A few quick rapturous words she spake; ah! charmed, remembered voice!
It touched her subtlest consciousness, it bade her soul rejoice!
Something that in this stranger recalled a vision in her thought;
A few quick rapturous words she spake; ah! charmed, remembered voice!
It touched her subtlest consciousness, it bade her soul rejoice!
“Father!” that sacred name survived her scattered English speech,
Even as a flawless relic smiles along a wreck-strewn beach;
With that fond utterance, all the mists of doubt and dreams depart,
And the lost darling of his love weeps on her father's heart!
Even as a flawless relic smiles along a wreck-strewn beach;
With that fond utterance, all the mists of doubt and dreams depart,
And the lost darling of his love weeps on her father's heart!
| [The story of an ambuscade, in] Werner's Readings and Recitations | |