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     Glimpses came of rowers rowing,
Stir of leaves and wild-flowers blowing,
     Steel-like gleams of water flowing,
In the sunlight slanted.

Here the mighty Bashaba
     Held his long-unquestioned sway,
From the White Hills, far away,
     To the great sea's sounding shore;
Chief of chiefs, his regal word
     All the river Sachems heard,
At his call the war-dance stirred,
     Or was still once more.

There his spoils of chase and war,
     Jaw of wolf and black bear's paw,
Panther's skin and eagle's claw,
     Lay beside his axe and bow;
And, adown the roof-pole hung,
     Loosely on a snake-skin strung,
In the smoke his scalp-locks swung
     Grimly to and fro.

Nightly down the river going,
     Swifter was the hunter's rowing,
When he saw that lodge-fire glowing
     O'er the waters still and red;
And the squaw's dark eye burned brighter,
     And she drew her blanket tighter,
As, with quicker step and lighter,
     From that door she fled.

For that chief had magic skill,
     And a Panisee's dark will,

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