Nor in it felt themselves too closely pent;
Waban will now below the opening raise,
In yon dry fagots’ heap, the mounting blaze.”
XXXIV.
“Stay! stay!” said Williams, “wouldst thou lure the foe?
Wouldst start the flame to tell him where we sleep?”
The hunter smiled: “My Sachem does not know
How true the foe will to our footsteps keep;
He hears, perchance, e’en now our accents low,
Or marks us from some tree on yonder steep;