With tell-tale echoes all the air; an owl
The secret with unearthly shrieks confessed,
And Gray Cloud’s dog sent forth a doleful howl
At intervals; but worse than all the rest,
That dreadful drum still beating in her breast,
As furious war-drums in the scalp-dance beat
To the mad circling of delirious feet.
Early next morning, as the first faint rays
Of sunlight through the rustling lindens played,
Two children sent to seek the conjurer’s aid,