V

A shriek within the covert near,
A second, third, assailed his ear;
Straight for the sound at once he dashed;
Through tangled boughs and brushwood crashed.
And lopped and slashed the tangles black
Of looped and shining supplejack,
Till on a startling scene he came,
That filled his soul with rage and shame.

Her mantle flung upon the ground,
Her graceful arms behind her bound.
With shoulders bare, dishevelled hair,
There stood a Maiden of the land.
More stately fair than could elsewhere
Through all its ample range be found.
Two of his comrades, hired amid
The tribes whose chieftains held command
O'er all the vales those mountains hid—
Those western mountains forest-crowned—
Wild striplings, who, uncurbed from birth.
Deemed foulest wrong but food for mirth,
So that their listless life it stirred,
Were basely busy on each hand,
With flax-blades binding to a tree
The Maid who strove her limbs to free.
They knew her—for they oft had heard
Of that surpassing form and face;
They knew the hate, concealed or shown,
Between her people and their own;
page 12 The feuds, when open war would cease,
That smoul dered in precarious peace
They knew the track by which the chase
Had lured them to that lonely place,
Was so unused, so tangled, rough,
They doubtless would have time enough.
And might without pursuit retrace
Their steps through mountain-woods, so dense.
No wrong would be suspected thence,
No outrage dreamt of; so they thought-—
If such a thoughtless impulse wild
Of mischief can a thought be styled—
They fancied, when the Maid they caught
At that secluded spot, alone,
With one slave-girl (who shrieking fled,
while after her a third accomplice sped.
Lest she the alarm too soon should spread)
It was a chance to win a name.
Through all the tribe some facile fame—
Let but their foreign friend agree,
If such a captive to their chief they led,
At his behest, dispose, to be.