Smokes in the vale Neponset’s peopled town;
Thy red friends there will thee in safety keep,
There may the white hand and the children sleep.”
XXII.
As thus he spake, across their pathway sped
The startled partridge on her whirring wings;
An arrow glanced—it grazed the hunter’s head,
And the shrill forest with the bowstring rings;
Red Waban’s eyes flash fire, and anger dread
Flames in his blood, and every muscle strings;