A sight he saw,--his will grew stronger.
They lay a ship, in a steel grey cove,
Resting after a stormy raid,--
In sooth she seemed better inclined to rove,
Though her sail was bound and her anchor laid,
For the sail and the mast were going to and fro,
And the vessel was frothing scum with her bow.
On board they were having a little rest,
To eat and to sleep was their present behest;--
Up from the cliff they heard one calling,
--The words of a fool they seemed, thus falling,--
"Dare no one steer in a storm so strong,
Then give me the rudder;--ah! I long!"
Some looked up to the rocky brow,
Others nor cared to see just now; None of them rose from the mid-day fare, Down came a stone and felled two men there.
Up they sprang from deck and cheer,
Threw down the platters,--seized bow and spear;
Up whizzed the arrows,--while unprepared
He stood on the cliff and his will declared:
"Chieftain with grace wilt yield thy vessel,
Or longest thou first to strive and wrestle?"
To listen to such was but time to waste,
In answer a spear was hurled in haste,