To the isle of Ro-a-no-ak,
Where the Pale-Face slept unguarded,
Sped the swift canoes of Red Men,
Gliding through the silent shadows.
As the sky grew red with dawning,[P]
While they dreamed of home and kindred,
Suddenly with whoop of murder
Wily Indians swarmed around them.
Skill of Pale-Face, craft of Red Man,
Met in fierce, determined battle; While within the Fort called Ralegh
Many arrows fell, like raindrops.
Arrows tipped with serpent's poison,
Arrows tipped with blazing rosin,
Winged with savage thirst for murder,
Aimed with cruel skill to torture.
Threatened by the blazing roof-tree
Then the Pale-Face crouched in terror;
Saw the folly of resistance,
Feared his doom, and fled for safety.
Man-te-o, alert for danger,
From afar saw signs of conflict;
Saw the waves of smoke ascending
Heavenward, like prayers for rescue.
Swift, with boats and trusty warriors,
Crossed he then to Ro-a-no-ak;
Strong to help his Pale-Face brothers,
Faithful to his friendly pledges.
As the daylight slowly faded,
Hopeless of the bloody struggle,
Stealthily the Pale-Face warriors
Fled with Man-te-o's brave people.
Left they then the Fort called Ralegh,
Left the dead within its stockade; Sought another island refuge,
Hoping there to rest in safety.
Man-te-o sought for the mother,[Q]
She with babe there born and nurtured
'Neath the shadow of disaster,
In the Land-of-Wind-and-Water.
"Come," said he, "the darkness falleth,
All your people must flee henceward;
Wan-ches-e will show no mercy,
You must not become his captive.
Take the papoose from thy bosom,
Call the white chief whom thou lovest,
Haste with me upon the flood-tide
To my wigwam on Wo-ko-kon."
Noiseless, she amid the conflict
Sought her heart's mate to flee with her;
Useless all the strife and courage,
Useless all the rude home-making;
Shrine for worship, fort for safety,
Hope of future peace and plenty,
All were vain; yet life we cherish,
Far above all boons we hold it:
So she hastened on her mission
For the life of self and loved ones.
As they neared the island border,
Pale-Face husband, child, and mother,
Man-te-o in silence leading,
Every sense alive to danger,
Suddenly the Pale-Face father
Thought him of the parting caution
Given by their absent leader:
If they fled in search of safety
On a tree to leave a token,
Whereby he might surely find them,
In the land which gave them shelter,
When he came again to seek them.[R]
By his side a sturdy live-oak
Spread its green, protecting branches;
Quick he strove to carve the token
Which should speak to all who followed.
C. R. O., in bold, plain letters[S]
Cut he in the tree's firm body,
When a random, poisoned arrow
Pierced his heart, and he fell lifeless.
With a smothered cry of horror,
In an agony of sorrow, She would fain have lingered near him,
But that Man-te-o urged onward.
If discovered, flight was futile,
Weakness now meant worse disaster;
She must save her helpless baby
Though her heart be rent with anguish.
Frantic with love's desolation,
Strong with thoughts of home and father,
With a woman's wondrous calmness
When great peril calls for action,
Safe she placed the sleeping infant
'Cross the brawny arms of Man-te-o,
While with knife drawn from his girdle
Carved she on another live-oak
Plain, the one word "CROATOAN"[T]
As a sign to all her people.
Trusting all to savage friendship,
Cutting hope with every letter,
Praying God to guide her father
To the haven she was seeking.