All nature knows our triumph: Strange things come up to look at us, Follows even the bold shark- Of such a bonny barque! Proud, proud must be our Admiral Who've fought for him, and conquered- Whene'er he touch the shore. And straight rise up a lord! "Some day, I'll make thee carry me, The Admiral grew paler, And paler as we flew : Still talked he to his officers, And smiled upon his crew; And he looked up at the heavens, Till all chances he defied: It threw boldness on his forehead; That night, a horrid whisper Fell on us where we lay; And we knew our old fine Admiral Was changing into clay : And we heard the wash of waters, Though nothing could we see, And a whistle and a plunge Among the billows in our lee! Till dawn we watched the body In its dead and ghastly sleep, And next evening at sunset, It was slung into the deep! And never, from that moment Save one shudder through the sea, Saw we (or heard) the shark That had followed in our lee! BERTHA IN THE LANE. BERTHA IN PUT the broidery-frame away, For my sewing is all done: The last thread is used to-day, And I need not join it on. [Mrs. BROWNING. Though the clock stands at the noon, Sister, help me to the bed, And stand near me, dearest-sweet. No one standeth in the street ?— Lean thy face down; drop it in These two hands, that I may hold "Twixt their palms thy cheek and chin, Stroking back the curls of gold: "Tis a fair, fair face, in soothLarger eyes and redder mouth Than mine were in my first youth. Thou art younger by seven years— Ah!-so bashful at my gaze, That the lashes, hung with tears, Grow too heavy to upraise? I would wound thee by no touch Which thy shyness feels as such. Dost thou mind me, dear, so much? Have I not been nigh a mother To thy sweetness-tell me, dear? Have we not loved one another Tenderly from year to year, Mother, mother, up in heaven, All the gifts required of me Hope that bless'd me, bliss that crown'd, Mother, mother, thou art kind, Thou art standing in the room, In a molten glory shrined That rays off into the gloom! See Page 3, Vol. I.] Ghostly mother, keep aloof One hour longer from my soul, Earth's warm-beating joy and dole! Little sister, thou art pale! Ah! I have a wandering brain- And my thoughts grow calm again. I have words thine ear to fill, Dear, I heard thee in the spring, Thee and Robert-through the treesWhen we all went gathering Boughs of May-bloom for the bees. Do not start so! think instead How the sunshine over-head Seem'd to trickle through the shade. What a day it was, that day! Hills and vales did openly Seem to heave and throb away At the sight of the great sky: Through the winding hedgerows green, And the gates that show'd the view! Till the pleasure grown too strong I sate down beneath the beech * By kind permission of Messrs. Chapman and Hall. 129 130 But the sound grew into word As the speakers drew more nearSweet, forgive me that I heard What wish'd me not to hear. you Do not weep so, do not shake; Oh, I heard thee, Bertha, make Good true answers for my sake. Yes, and he too! let him stand In thy thoughts untouch'd by blame. Could he help it if my hand He had claim'd with hasty claim? That was wrong, perhaps—but then Such things be-and will again: Women cannot judge for men. Had he seen thee when he swore He would love but me alone? Thou wast absent, sent before To our kin in Sidmouth town. That he owed me all esteem-- Till it burst with that last strain. I fell flooded with a dark, In the silence of a swoon. When I rose, still cold and stark, There was night; I saw the moon: And the stars, each in its place, And the May-blooms on the grass, Seem'd to wonder what I was. And I walk'd as if apart From myself, when I could stand, And I pitied my own heart, As if I held it in my hand, When you met me at the door; Dripping from me to the floor; Do not weep so- -dear-heart-warm! All was best as it befell. If I say he did me harm, I speak wild-I am not well. Then I always was too grave Like the saddest ballad sung- Thou and I, that none could guess I am pale as crocus grows Close beside a rose-tree's root; Yet who plucks me ?- -no one mourns, P Look out quickly. Yea, or nay Some one might be waiting for Some last word that I might say. Nay? So best !-so angels would Stand off clear from deathly road, Not to cross the sight of God. Colder grow my hands and feet. When I wear the shroud I made, And, dear Bertha, let me keep I can still see glittering. AN INDIAN SKIRMISH. On that grave drop not a tear! Else, though fathom-deep the place, I shall feel it on my face. Art thou near me? nearer! so- So-no more vain words be said! The hosannas nearer roll. Jesus, Victim, comprehending 131 AN INDIAN SKIRMISH. [JAMES FENIMORE COOPER. HE warning call of the scout was not uttered without occasion. During the occurrence of the deadly encounter just related, the roar of the falls was unbroken by any human sound whatever. It would seem that interest in the result had kept the natives on the opposite shores in breathless suspense, while the quick evolutions and swift changes in the positions of the combatants effectually prevented a fire, that might prove dangerous alike to friend and enemy. But the moment the struggle was decided, a yell arose, as fierce and savage as wild and revengeful passions could throw into the air. It was followed by the swift flashes of their rifles, which sent their leaden messengers across the rock in volleys, as though the assailants would pour out their impotent fury on the insensible scene of the fatal contest. A steady, though deliberate return was made from the rifle of Chingachgook, who had maintained his post throughout the fray with unmoved resolution. When the triumphant shout of Uncas was borne to his ears, the gratified father had raised his voice in a single responsive cry, after which his busy piece alone proved that he still guarded his pass with unwearied diligence. In this manner many minutes flew by with the swiftness of thought; the rifles of the assailants speaking at times in rattling volleys, and at others in occasional scattering shots. Though the rocks, the trees, and the shrubs were cut and torn in a See Page 106, Vol. II.] hundred places around the besieged, the cover was so close, and so rigidly maintained, that as yet David had been the only sufferer in their little band. 66 "Let them burn their powder," said the deliberate scout, while bullet after bullet whizzed by the place where he so securely lay; there will be a fine gathering of lead when it is over, and I fancy the imps will tire of the sport afore these old stones cry out for mercy. Uncas, boy, you waste the kernels by overcharging, and a kicking rifle never carries a true bullet. I told you to take that loping miscreant under the line of white paint; now, if your bullet went a hair's breadth, it went two inches above it. The life lies low in a Mingo, and humanity teaches us to make a quick end of the sarpents." A quiet smile lighted the haughty features of the young Mohican, betraying his knowledge of the English language, as well as of the other's meaning; but he suffered it to pass away without vindication or reply. "I cannot permit you to accuse Uncas of want of judgment or of skill," said Duncan; "he saved my life in the coolest and readiest manner, and he has made a friend who never will require to be reminded of the debt he owes." Uncas partly raised his body, and offered his hand to the grasp of Heyward. During this act of friendship the two young men exchanged looks of intelligence, which caused Duncan to forget the character and condition of his wild associate. In the meanwhile Hawk-eye, who looked on this burst of youthful feeling with a cool, but kind regard, made the following calm reply:-"Life is an obligation which friends often owe to each other in the wilderness. I dare say I may have served Uncas some such turn myself "That bullet was better aimed than common!" exclaimed Duncan, involuntarily shrinking from a shot which struck on the rock at his side with a smart rebound. Hawk-eye laid his hand on the shapeless metal, and shook his head as he examined it, saying, "Falling lead is never flattened! had it come from the clouds this might have happened!" But the rifle of Uncas was deliberately raised towards the heavens, directing the eyes of his companions to a point where the mystery was immediately explained. A ragged oak grew on the right bank of the river, nearly opposite to their position, which, seeking the freedom of the open space, had inclined so far forward that its upper branches overhung that arm of the stream which flowed nearest to its own shore. Among the topmost leaves, which scantily concealed the gnarled and stinted limbs, a dark-looking savage was nestled, partly concealed by the trunk of the tree, and partly exposed, as though looking down upon them to ascertain the effect produced by his treacherous aim. These devils will scale heaven to circumvent us to our ruin," said Hawk-eye. "Keep him in play, boy, until I can bring 'kill-deer' to bear, when we will try his metal on each side of the tree at once." Uncas delayed his fire until the scout uttered the word. The rifles flashed, the leaves and bark of the oak flew into the air, and were scattered by the wind; but the Indian answered their assault by a taunting laugh, sending down upon them another bullet in return, that struck the cap of Hawk-eye from his head. Once more the savage yell burst out of the woods, and the leaden hail whistled above the heads of the besieged, as if to confine them to a place where they might become easy victims to the enterprise of the warrior who had mounted the tree. "This must be looked to!" said the scout, glancing about him with an anxious eye. "Uncas, call up your father; we have need of all our we'pons to bring the cunning varment from his roost." The signal was instantly given, and before Hawk-eye had reloaded his rifle, they were joined by Chingachgook. When his son pointed out to the experienced warrior the situation of their dangerous enemy, the usual exclamatory "hugh!" burst from his lips, after which no further expression of surprise or alarm was suffered to escape from him. Hawk-eye and the Mohicans conversed earnestly together in Delaware for a few moments, when each quietly took his post, in order to execute the plan they had speedily devised. The warrior in the oak had maintained a quick, though ineffectual fire from the moment of his discovery. But his aim was interrupted by the vigilance of his enemies, whose rifles instantaneously bore on any part of his person that was left exposed. Still his bullets fell in the centre of the crouching party. The clothes of Heyward, which rendered him peculiarly conspicuous, were repeatedly cut, and once blood was drawn from a slight wound in his arm. At length, emboldened by the long and patient watchfulness of his enemies, the Huron attempted a better and more fatal aim. The quick eye of the Mohicans caught the dark line of his lower limbs incautiously exposed through the thin foliage, a few inches from the trunk of the tree. Their rifles made a common report, when, sinking on his wounded limb, part of the body of the savage came into view. Swift as thought Hawk-eye seized the advantage, and discharged his fatal weapon into the top of the oak. The leaves were unusually agitated; the dangerous rifle fell from its commanding elevation, and after a few moments of vain struggling the form of the savage was seen swinging in the wind, while he grasped a ragged and naked branch of a tree, with his hands clenched in desperation. "Give him, in pity give him, the contents of another rifle," cried Duncan, turning away his eyes in horror from the spectacle of a fellowcreature in such awful jeopardy. "Not a kernel," exclaimed the obdurate Hawkeye; "his death is certain, and we have no powder to spare, for Indian fights sometimes last for days. 'Tis their scalps or ours; and God, who made us, has put into our natures the craving after life." Against this stern and unyielding morality, supported as it was by such visible policy, there was no appeal. From that moment the yells in the forest once more ceased, the fire was suffered to decline, and all eyes, those of friends as well as enemies, became fixed on the hopeless condition of the wretch who was dangling between heaven and earth. The body yielded to the currents of air, and though no murmur or groan escaped the victim, there were instants when he grimly faced his foes, and the anguish of cold despair might be traced through the intervening distance, in possession of his swarthy lineaments. Three several times the scout raised his piece in mercy, and as often, prudence getting the better of his intention, it was again silently lowered. At length one hand of the Huron lost its hold, and dropped exhausted to his side. A desperate and fruitless struggle to recover the branch succeeded, and then the savage was seen for a fleeting instant grasping wildly at the empty air. The lightning is not quicker than was the flame from the rifle of Hawk-eye; the limbs of the victim trembled and contracted, the head fell to the bosom, and the body parted the foaming waters like lead, when the element closed |