,
And started, as through darkness dim
A strange voice rang and calmed to him:
"Wake! there are wonders waiting thee!
Go where the thick mimosas be,
Fringing a little open plain,
Honor and power wouldest thou gain?
Go, foolish man, to fortune blind;
Follow the stream, and thou shall find."
Three several nights the voice was heard,
Louder and more emphatic grown.
Then, at the thrice-repeated word,
The shepherd rose and went alone,
Threading the mazes of the stream
Like one who wanders in a dream.
Long miles he ran, the stream beside,
Which this way, that way, turned and sped,
And called and sang, a noisy guide.
At last its vagrant dances led
To where the thick mimosas' shade
Circled and fringed an open glade;
There the wild streamlet danced away,
The moon was shining strangely white,
And by its fitful, gleaming ray
The shepherd saw a wondrous sight;
In the glade's midst, each on his mat,
A group of armed warriors sat,
White-robed, majestic, with deep eyes
Fixed on him with a stern surprise;
And in their midst an aged chief
Enthroned sat, whose beard, like foam,
Caressed his mighty knees. As leaf
Shakes in the wind the shepherd shook,
And veiled his eyes before that look,
And prayed, and thought upon his home,
Nor spoke, nor moved, till the old man,
In voice like waterfall, began:
"Shepherd, how names himself thy king?"
"Ma-anda," answered, shuddering,
The shepherd. "Good, thou speakest well.
And now, my son, I bid thee tell
Thy first king's name." "It was Kintu."
"'Tis rightly said, thou answerest true.
Hark! To Ma-anda, Kintu's son,
Hasten, and bid him, fearing naught,
Come hither, taking thee for guide;
Thou and he, not another one,
Not even a dog may run beside!
Long has Ma-anda Kintu sought
With spell and conjuration dim,
Now Kintu has a word for him.
Go, do thy errand, haste thee hence,
Kintu insures thy recompense."
All night the shepherd ran, star-led,
All the hot day he hastened straight,
Nor stopped for sleep, nor stopped for bread,
Until he reached the city gate,
And saw red rays of evening fall
On the leaf-hutted capital.
He sought the king, his tale he told.
Ma-anda faltered not, nor stayed.
He seized his spear, he left the tent:
Shook off the brown arms of his queens,
Who clasped his knees with wailing screams;
On pain of instant death forbade
That man