II

Then wild with joy the 'Angry Star,'
At this success—the first the war
Vouchsafed his arms-—let loose again
His rampant pride, his boastful vein.
By fear, by prudence undebarred,
Up to the fence, black, tottering, charred—
(His feet,—with green flax-sandals shod
Prepared for this, the reeking sod
And glowing embers safely trod)
He bounded; took his dauntless stand
With granite-headed axe in hand
Beneath it, and began to rain
A shower of blows with might and main,
page 379 As each had been his last for life,
On crumbling post and crashing stake,
Broad entrance for his band to make.
There—bellowing loud his battle-song,
His favourite song in such a strife;
While all the less adventurous throng,
Save six or eight who lent their aid,
Until the breach might be essayed,
A more respectful distance kept;—
Less man than frenzied fiend of hell,
He raved and roared and danced and leapt
And right and left his weapon swept—
A blow at every leap and yell—
Against that smoking citadel;

"Hit out, hit out
My battle-axe stout!
Ha, ha! you should tell
The sound of it well,
How it played
Long ago
On your crashing stockade!
Do you know,
Do you know
Who your foe may be?
Prick your ears up and hark
Or come if you dare,
I-ará! if you dare
Come out and see!
Wheturiri!—'tis he.
Whose eyeballs glare
Red stars in the dark!
'Tis he! 'tis he!—
page 380 Hit away—hit away,
My battle-axe gay!
Hit out—hit out,
My warriors stout!
The dastards rout
And Victory shout—
I-ará! I-ará!"—

Now all upon that windward side
The fallen fence left passage wide,
And Wheturiri's raging host
The ditch and barrier swiftly crossed;
While Tangi's men retreating, threw
Themselves inside the rampart new;
And as the palisades they passed
Made every sliding panel fast,
Till round the fort the assailant horde
Upon the second platform poured.
Then out—unable to restrain
His pent-up wrath, his fierce disdain,
Or patient wait his foes' attack;
With all his bravest at his back,—
Just as the glorious Sun again
Slipped silvery from the mountains black
With panting disc upfloating free—
Out rushed at last the 'Wailing Sea '
In wild ferocious majesty,
His battle-cry resounding loud
Above the tumult of the crowd!
"Now, forward, now, my Sons with me—
Now forward to the Land of Death.!—"
That shout o'er all the hubbub swelled
page 381 Of casual shots and bulwarks felled,
And stakes that crashed and fiends that yelled,
Distinct, as from the midnight's core,
Where leaps the blue sheet-lightning's blaze
And hissing rains in torrents pour,
The dread Caffrarian lion's roar,
That shakes the earth to which he lays
His head and thunders—rises o'er
And deeper-volumed rolls beneath
The angry bellowings that disclose
Where stamp, upstarting from repose
Whole herds of snorting buffaloes!
Where'er that Chieftain charged, dismayed
His foes fell back like huddling sheep
The wild-dog drives into a heap;
Or brief the fight the brave essayed:
So deadly swept on as he rushed
His ponderous battle-axe's blade;
Each chief who his encounter stayed
Just met him, and with right arm crushed
Disabled from the contest slunk;
Or down at once scarce groaning sunk
With cloven skull and quivering trunk.
—The Angry Star, for all his boast,
Not yet the veteran's path had crossed,
But, as it seemed, preferred to close
With less renowned, less dangerous foes;
Or had a craftier game to play
More sure than such a doubtful fray.
So still resistless through the fight
Old Tangi raged; still rose on high
O'er all the noise that battle-cry,
" Now forward to the realms of Night!"—
page 382 Yet still, for numbers beaten back
Fresh numbers pressed the fierce attack;
The platform mounted—haply dared
To charge the very gates, across
The bridges left upon the fosse
By Tangi, for retreat prepared.
But vain their toil—their fury vain:
No hold, no entrance could they gain—
Resisted all—repulsed or slain.