like ghosts on the field of their battles,
Till close on the sleepers, they bide
but the signal of death from Tamdoka.
Still the sleepers sleep on. Not a breath
stirs the leaves of the awe-stricken forest;
The hushed air is heavy with death;
like the footsteps of death are the moments.
"_Arise!_"--At the word, with a bound,
to their feet spring the vigilant Frenchmen;
And the depths of the forest resound
to the crack and the roar of their rifles;
And seven writhing forms on the ground
clutch the earth. From the pine-tops the screech-owl
Screams and flaps his wide wings in affright,
and plunges away through the shadows;
And swift on the wings of the night
flee the dim, phantom-forms through the darkness.
Like _cabris_[80] when white wolves pursue,
fled the four yet remaining Dakotas;
Through forest and fen-land they flew,
and wild terror howled on their footsteps.
And one was Tamdoka. DuLuth
through the night sent his voice like a trumpet:
"Ye are _Sons of Unktehee_, forsooth!
Return to your mothers, ye cowards!"
His shrill voice they heard as they fled,
but only the echoes made answer.
At the feet of the brave Frenchmen, dead,
lay seven swarthy _Sons of whitehead_;
And there, in the midst of the slain,
they found, as it gleamed in the fire-light,
The horn-handled knife from the Seine,
where it fell from the hand of Tamdoka.

[Illustration: NEARER AND NEARER THEY GLIDE LIKE GHOSTS ON THE FIELDS OF
THEIR BATTLES. TILL CLOSE ON THE SLEEPERS, THEY BIDE FOR THE SIGNAL OF
DEATH FROM TAMDOKA]

In the gray of the morn, ere the sun
peeped over the dewy horizon,
Their journey again was begun,
and they toiled up the swift, winding river;
And many a shallow they passed
on their way to the Lake of the Spirits;[AX]
But dauntless they reached it at last,
and found Akee-pa-kee-tin's[AY] village,
On an isle in the midst of the lake;
and a day in his teepees they tarried.
Of the deed in the wilderness spake,
to the brave Chief, the frank-hearted Frenchman.
A generous man was the Chief,
and a friend of the fearless explorer;
And dark was his visage with grief
at the treacherous act of the warriors.
"Brave Wazi-kute is a man,
and his heart is as clear as the sunlight;