No time there was for Williams to reply
Ere near the lodge there rose a trampling sound,
And warriors entered, stained with every dye,
Crested and plumed, with—to their girdles bound—
The knife and hatchet; whilst the battle cry
Burst from the crowds that flocked the lodge around,
And lighted up, in every Keenomp’s eye
That stared within, a dreadful sympathy.
X.
Amid the train came Massasoit old,