Poetry Explorer- Classic Contemporary Poetry, CANTO 25; THE WAR CLOUD, by HUMBERT WOLFE


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Classic and Contemporary Poetry

CANTO 25; THE WAR CLOUD, by                     Poet's Biography
First Line: Five happy years have told their flight
Last Line: And all the coming storm await.
Subject(s): Heroism; Nations; Native Americans; Prophecy & Prophets; War; Heroes; Heroines; Indians Of America; American Indians; Indians Of South America


I.

FIVE happy years have told their flight,
Since that heroic, vengeful night,
When Wa-be-no-ka, stranger guest,
In one exultant -- victor flame,
Destroyed the hall of proudest fame,
With prouder trophies of the West.
And while the hero loves to roam,
He dearly loves his cabin home; --
Secure from every threatened ill;
To Wa-wa-tay-see, sprightly boy,
He tells his tales of Iroquois,
And chats with charming Whippoorwill.
The son, a shoot of worthy race,
Respectful to indulgent sire,
To doting mother ever kind,
And yet with soul of sterner stuff;
The future age shall worthy grace,
A proud, unrivaled fame acquire,
If this our history, unconfined,
Shall be extended long enough.

II.

And Wa-be-no-ka makes a feast:
The friend and far invited guest,
In circle 'round the central fire,
Are shining in their gay attire.
And Whippoorwill, in social rite,
Distributes richest sagamite;
And Wa-wa-tay-see, succotash,
Of native corn and bean and squash.
The story and the ready joke,
A roar of laughter oft provoke;
The moments fly in happy cheer,
For all is friendly and sincere.

III.

Behold a stranger guest arise;
And silence reigns; and eager eyes
Are on him bent. His words are free --
The kindred Pottawattamie.

NO-NE-YAH.

My brothers of this ancient town,
That fills the land with high renown;
The singing birds have often told,
The feat of Wa-be-no-ka bold;
By which O-nun-da-no-ga hall,
With trophies, perished, one and all;
And of his long and weary flight,
Upon that vengeance-dealing night.
And yet the story seems obscure;
The famous tale we would assure; --
We, strangers of the West afar;
Speak, Wa-be-no-ka, freely tell,
What in that noble race befell;
How you escaped the Iroquois.

WA-BE-NO-KA.

The night I chose, to daring feat perform,
Was dark and troubled: Raged a thunder storm.
The sleeping chiefs themselves were in my power;
My arm I held, for prudence ruled the hour.
The torch applied, the war-whoop yell I ring:
With pouch and scalps I soon am on the wing.
An hour the start is well, before the day
The trophy loss and havoc shall display.
The foe to draw from this my native home,
With fiery speed, a southern course I roam.
Thro' vine and brush and bramble is the flight,
A frightful path to traverse in the night.
The morning dawns. I hear the ringing yell
Of vengeance, thro' the distant forest tell.
I backward look: I see the smoke arise
From council hall, and mingle with the skies.
And Do-ka-tee on every pathway flings
Pursuing scout, as on the eagle's wings.
Think ye their nimble hunters on me gain?
Na, na; the chief that roams the western plain,
From pride alone, outstrips the rushing wind,
And leaves the foe and danger far behind.
I sport with my pursuers. Speed I slack;
And frequent cross the stream to hide my track.
I stop upon the hill to mock their rage;
And when they heave in sight, I disengage
Myself from all their toils. My wife and boy,
Alone, would bring me from the Iroquois.
I reach Ga-ha-to; plain of Skwe-do-wa;
I rapid pass Do-na-ta-gwe-no-da;
And as nor day nor night my feet I stay,
The foemen yield; their echoes die away.
I rest a day among the Erie clan;
A fatal visit: Thus I bring the ban
On that devoted nation. Iroquois
Renew their fierce, exterminating war;
In full belief that they have sent the spy,
O-nun-da-no-ga prowess to defy.
I hasten home, secure from every ill,
To Wa-wa-tay-see and to Whippoorwill.
Ah, see! above our heads! in pious phrase,
The household gods to nerve my future days!
Those sad memorials of my kindred dear,
Shall constant draw the sympathizing tear.
The trophy scalps, my father's withered arm,
Shall fire my soul in every dread alarm;
In storm of war, shall every action string,
And Iroquois shall fall at every spring.
And thus my story have I briefly told:
Ah! me, a stricken chief, you here behold!
Be ready, braves, the warrior bow to bend;
To hurl the hatchet; cabin home defend.

IV.

The chief is silent. Long and loud applause
Is quick succeeded by an earnest pause,
As upturned eyes the relics meet:
And love and admiration quickly turn
To thirst for vengeance; chieftains eager burn,
In arms the bloody foe to greet.
The hour is late. The owl aloud proclaims
The morning star -- the rising east in flames;
The heavy air of night is chill:
The guests their many vows of friendship make,
And all, adieus of Wa-be-no-ka take,
And Wa-wa-tay-see, Whippoorwill.

V.

The mighty drama opens: Iroquois,
By universal, desolating war,
The continent would domineer;
Their eight-fold cord -- totemic order band,
Can hurl a force against a foreign land,
That few can stem and all may fear.
The Hurons have already felt the wrath,
Of those that carry terror in the path
Of fiery onset. Also, distant far,
The common foe have crushed the Ottawa,
And sent them to the West, to cherish hate,
And signal vengeance there to meditate.
The E-ri-gas, the onset wild sustain;
They quickly fall; their efforts all are vain:
They swell the ranks of mighty victor foes,
To deal, in distant lands, their common blows.
The Neutral Nation, on the thund'ring shore
Of O-ni-ag-raah, soon are seen no more:
The Hurons, in distress, upon them call;
The call they slight, and now in turn they fall.
They beg for mercy, yet no mercy gain;
Ho-de-no-sau-nee spurns divided reign.
In sweep of conquest, brave Andastes last,
Are 'neath the power of haughty victors cast.
France, in her new possessions, trembling stands,
Before the fierce assaults of Mohawk bands.
The common foe a proud defiance flings,
And just alarm thro' western forest rings.
Ah, lovely village, by the lovely strait!
Who shall protect thee from the common fate.

VI.

And Teuchsa Grondie feels the rising storm;
Alarm is on the wing in every form:
The eagle's yell, the hoot of frighted owl;
Of dog the snarl, of wolf the dismal howl; --
A bow and arrow painted in the sky;
A scalp upon the moon, that all descry; --
A jeebi train along the milky-way;
The blazing comet shooting far astray: --
The northern light that upward faintly streams;
The blinking stars above the land of dreams: --
The glimpses of the moon behind the cloud;
The setting sun within a purple shroud: --
The deeper shadows of the forest gloom;
The river, darkened, as for coming doom: --
A sulph'rous odor in the summer rain;
Big inky drops from raging hurricane: --
In short, a sense of danger in the air,
That mutely tells of coming foe --
A dread, a terror, breathing everywhere,
Of deep calamity and woe.

VII.

"My brothers, come," says Che-to-waik;
"Assemble on the public square;
Of Michabou wise counsel take;
The Manitou will meet us there."
A frame of poles is quickly made --
A circle, is its petty size;
The bark and skins are on it laid:
From this the oracles advise.
With plumage now, the others deck
The wise, prophetic Ken-na-beck.
Into the hut he slowly creeps:
A while the spirit quiet sleeps.
The priest his supplication makes,
In deep and melancholy tone;
And then the hut in fury shakes,
And soft is heard prophetic moan.
The eager circle wait devout,
Beneath the maple's cheerful shade;
And soon the prophet sallies out,
And then is explanation made.

CHE-TO-WAIK.

And are the signs for coming war?
Oh, tell us, brother, tell us true!
Are we to meet the Iroquois?
How speaks the guardian Manitou?

KEN-NA-BECK.

The storm arises. Mighty council hall,
That sunk to ashes, rises at the call,
Of sternest purpose. There the war-whoop rings;
O-nun-da-no-ga chief to vengeance springs.
The spy that wrapt Ka-na-ta-go in flame,
To proud Yon-do-ti-ga, of noble fame,
He skulking traces; vows the town shall fall; --
That fire and fury shall envelop all.

WA-BE-NO-KA.

And let him come. His ever burning lust
For wide domain, shall lay him in the dust.
The precious relics that I bore away,
Shall nerve this arm to stem the wild foray.

KO-KO-KO-HO.

But will the spirits, in the trying hour,
Our blows direct with superhuman power?
Forbid the conquest of the ancient town,
And grant our chiefs to win a high renown?

KEN-NA-BECK.

Who bravely fights, the Manitou will aid;
The Pauguk grim, will seize the renegade:
Then boldly strike; and fearless, worthy stand;
For wife, and child, and home, and native land.

BOURDELAIS.

As dire events are in the troubled wind,
Permit the humble monk to speak his mind.
Your mode of warfare best to you is known;
But we, of other land, suggest our own.
We bow, at first, before the throne of grace,
And there invoke a blessing on our race;
Our many sins, for which the scourge is sent,
In word and deed, we there sincere repent:
The God of battles call, our blows to guide,
And for our country and the right decide:
And when triumphant we at last return,
The Te Deum we chant; the incense burn.
And still, the means we use, to proper end;
With line and moat and guard the town defend.
Strong arms, brave hearts, may win the doubtful day,
But ramparts will insure the battle fray.
Dame nature, this, a fortress n'er intended;
And yet the town is easily defended.
To southward is the ample river tide;
The moat shall rise upon the triple side.
From thence we safe may hurl the deadly blow,
And firm resist the onsets of the foe.

VIII.

In Conde's ranks the monk had learned,
To some extent, the art of war;
And this to good account he turned,
Against the threatening Iroquois.
The good advice the chiefs attend;
Adopt it with reluctant praise;
And working parties quickly lend
A willing hand the moat to raise.
In circle wide, from strand to strand,
Around the huts the line is run;
Protecting squares the ditch command,
Which any prudent foe may shun.
The river, too, must be defended,
Against the swimmer and the fleet;
And soon the line is there extended;
And thus the circuit is complete.
A rag is on the maple hung --
The flag-staff of the citadel;
Defiance thus is boldly flung,
To Iroquois with loudest yell.
And now behold the cabin town,
A worthy theme for humble bard;
With battlement of high renown,
A new Parisian boulevard.
And yet by storms of later years,
And frequent culture of the ground,
The famous rampart disappears,
Till not a vestige more is found.

IX.

"And still," says worthy Che-to-waik,
"The wise will strong alliance make,
Although a confidence they feel;
Our clans, upon intelligence,
Will rally as for self-defense,
And bravely strike for common weal."
Says Ko-ko-ko-ho: "Quickly send
An embassy to every friend,
And every clan of kindred nation;
To rally for a final cast, --
To hurl the crushing thunder blast;
To carry death and desolation."
At once the embassies are sent,
The firm alliance to cement,
On every stream and every trail;
O-nun-da-no-ga, in the West,
Shall stir a mighty hornet's nest,
And woe to him who dare assail.
The Chippeway, and Kickapoo,
The Ottawa, and Huron too,
Miami and the Illinois; --
The Wyandots at once agree,
With vengeful Pottawattamie; --
All, all will fight the Iroquois.
And when begins the bloody fray,
The birds shall bear the news away,
To every cabin of the West;
And then the forest of the strait,
Shall ring with fierce Algonquin hate;
The tomahawk shall do the rest.

BOURDELAIS.

Recall again that dreadful hour,
That crushed the Huron's mighty power,
Upon the distant Matchedash;
Ah, while there yawned a nation's grave,
No wakeful guard a warning gave,
Of dread impending thunder crash.
Be wise in time. The foe may sweep
Upon the strong, the armed -- asleep;
And win by stealth and by surprise;
Then place the trusty sentinel,
To give the timely warning yell:
Prevent a useless sacrifice.

X.

The chiefs again the counsel hear;
And day and night the forest swarms,
With lynx-eyed watchmen, far and near,
To notify of just alarms.
And now a painful, dread suspense,
Each mind inspires, as grim as fate;
All feel the stake to be immense,
And all the coming storm await.





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