_"
"_Unktomee[72]--Ho!_" muttered the braves,
for they deemed him the black Spider-Spirit
That dwells in the drearisome caves,
and walks on the marshes at midnight,
With a flickering torch in his hand,
to decoy to his den the unwary.
His tongue could they not understand,
but his torn hands all shriveled with famine
He stretched to the hunters and said:
"He feedeth his chosen with manna;
And ye are the angels of God
sent to save me from death in the desert."
His famished and woe-begone face,
and his tones touched the hearts of the hunters;
They fed the poor father apace,
and they led him away to _Ka-tha-ga._
[L] See the account of Father Menard, his mission and disappearance in
the wilderness. _Neill's Hist. Minnesota_, pp 104-107, inc.
There little by little he learned
the tongue of the tawny Dakotas;
And the heart of the good father yearned
to lead them away from their idols--
Their giants[16] and dread Thunder-birds--
their worship of stones[73] and the devil.
"_Wakan-de!_"[M] they answered his words,
for he read from his book in the Latin,
Lest the Nazarene's holy commands
by his tongue should be marred in translation;
And oft with his beads in his hands,
or the cross and the crucified Jesus,
He knelt by himself on the sands,
and his dim eyes uplifted to heaven.
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