He had been among the white men till he spoke our language well,
Though his speech was marked by phrases that from Western hunters fell.
There was pausing in the stories, when he turned and spoke to me,
As his red pipe he replenished—“I could tell a tale,” said he.
“Those there are of daring white men, whom no danger can appall;
But I knew a squaw among them, who surpassed them one and all.
“Six good Shawanock, my comrades, did that pale-face woman kill.”
Then I said—“Pray tell the story!” Quoth the other—“So I will.
“There were seven of us together, who upon an August day,
From the sullen, broad Ohio, up Salt River took our way.