Suddenly my gloom was lightened, hope was heightened, though the shrieking, Malice-wreaking, ruthless wretches death were scattering to and fro; For a knife lay there--I spied it, and a tomahawk beside it Glittering brightly, buried lightly, keen edge upward, in the snow.
Naught knew I how came they thither, nor from whither; naught to me then If the heathen dark, my captors, dropped those weapons there or no; Quickly drawn o'er axe-edge lightly, cords were cut that held me tightly, Then, with engines of my vengeance in my hands, I sought the foe.
Oh, what anger dark, consuming, fearful, glooming, looming horrid, Lit my forehead, draped my figure, leapt with fury from my glance; 'Midst the foemen rushing frantic, to their sight I seemed gigantic, Like the motion of the ocean, like a tempest my advance.
Stoutest of them all, one savage left the ravage round and faced me; Fury braced me, for I knew him--he my pleading wife had slain. Huge he was, and brave and brawny, but I met the slayer tawny, And with rigorous blow, and vigorous, clove his tufted skull in twain-- Madly dashing down the crashing bloody hatchet in his brain.
As I brained him rose their calling, "Lo! appalling from yon meadow The Monedo of the white man comes with vengeance in his train!" As they fled, my blows Titanic falling fast increased their panic, Till their shattered forces scattered widely o'er the snowy plain.
Stern De Rouville then their error, born of terror, soon dispersing, Loudly cursing them for folly, roused their pride with words of scorn; Peering cautiously they knew me, then by numbers overthrew me; Fettered surely, bound securely, there again I lay forlorn.
Well I knew their purpose horrid, on each forehead it was written-- Pride was smitten that their bravest had retreated at my ire; For the rest the captive's durance, but for me there was assurance Of the tortures known to martyrs--of the terrible death by fire.
Then I felt, though horror-stricken, pulses quicken as the swarthy Savage, or the savage Frenchman, fiercest of the cruel band, Darted in and out the shadows, through the shivered palisadoes, Death-blows dealing with unfeeling heart and never-sparing hand.
Soon the sense of horror left me, and bereft me of all feeling; Soon, revealing all my early golden moments, memory came; Showing how, when young and sprightly, with a footstep falling lightly, I had pondered as I wandered on the maid I loved to name.