Like the eyes of the wolves are the eyes
of the watchful and silent Dakotas;
Like the face of the moon in the skies,
when the clouds chase each other across it,
Is Tamdoka's dark face in the light
of the flickering flames of the camp-fire.
They have plotted red murder by night,
and securely contemplate their victims.
But wary and armed to the teeth
are the resolute Frenchmen, and ready,
If need be, to grapple with death,
and to die hand to hand in the forest.
Yet skilled in the arts and the wiles
of the cunning and crafty _Algonkins_[AW]
They cover their hearts with their smiles,
and hide their suspicions of evil.
Round their low, smouldering fire,
feigning sleep, lie the watchful and wily Dakotas;
But DuLuth and his _voyageurs_ heap
their fire that shall blaze till the morning,
Ere they lay themselves snugly to rest,
with their guns by their sides on the blankets,
As if there were none to molest
but the gray, skulking wolves of the forest.
[AW] Ojibways.
'Tis midnight. The rising moon gleams,
weird and still, o'er the dusky horizon;
Through the hushed, somber forest she beams,
and fitfully gloams on the meadows;
And a dim, glimmering pathway she paves,
at times, on the dark stretch of river.
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