Custer, and Other Poems Part 15

As in the long dead days marauding hosts Of Indians came from far Siberian coasts, And drove the peaceful Aztecs from their grounds, Despoiled their homes (but left their tell-tale mounds), So has the white man with the Indians done.

Now with their backs against the setting sun The remnants of a dying nation stand And view the lost domain, once their beloved land.

II.

Upon the vast Atlantic's leagues of sh.o.r.e The happy red man's tent is seen no more; And from the deep blue lakes which mirror heaven His bounding bark canoe was long since driven.

The mighty woods, those temples where his G.o.d Spoke to his soul, are leveled to the sod; And in their place tall church spires point above, While priests proclaim the law of Christ, the King of Love.

III.

The avaricious and encroaching rail Seized the wide fields which knew the Indian's trail.

Back to the reservations in the West The native owners of the land were pressed, And selfish cities, harbingers of want, Shut from their vision each accustomed haunt.

Yet hungry Progress, never satisfied, Gazed on the western plains, and gazing, longed and sighed.

IV.

As some strange bullock in a pasture field Compels the herds to fear him, and to yield The juicy gra.s.s plots and the cooling shade Until, despite their greater strength, afraid, They huddle in some corner spot and cower Before the monarch's all controlling power, So has the white man driven from its place By his aggressive greed, Columbia's native race.

V.

Yet when the bull pursues the herds at bay, Incensed they turn, and dare dispute his sway.

And so the Indians turned, when men forgot Their sacred word, and trespa.s.sed on the spot.

The lonely little spot of all their lands, The reservation of the peaceful bands.

But l.u.s.t for gold all conscience kills in man, "Gold in the Black Hills, gold!" the cry arose and ran

VI.

From lip to lip, as flames from tree to tree Leap till the forest is one fiery sea, And through the country surged that hot unrest Which thirst for riches wakens in the breast.

In mighty throngs the fortune hunters came, Despoiled the red man's lands and slew his game, Broke solemn treaties and defied the law.

And all these ruthless acts the Nation knew and saw.

VII.

Man is the only animal that kills Just for the wanton love of slaughter; spills The blood of lesser things to see it flow; Lures like a friend, to murder like a foe The trusting bird and beast; and, coward like, Deals covert blows he dare not boldly strike.

The brutes have finer souls, and only slay When torn by hunger's pangs, or when to fear a prey.

VIII.

The pale-faced hunter, insolent and bold, Pursued the bison while he sought for gold.

And on the hungry red man's own domains He left the rotting and unused remains To foul with sickening stench each pa.s.sing wind And rouse the demon in the savage mind, Save in the heart where virtues dominate Injustice always breeds its natural offspring--hate.

IX.

The chieftain of the Sioux, great Sitting Bull, Mused o'er their wrongs, and felt his heart swell full Of bitter vengeance. Torn with hate's unrest He called a council and his braves addressed.

"From fair Wisconsin's shimmering lakes of blue Long years ago the white man drove the Sioux.

Made bold by conquest, and inflamed by greed, He still pursues our tribes, and still our ranks recede.

X.

"Fair are the White Chief's promises and words, But dark his deeds who robs us of our herds.

He talks of treaties, asks the right to buy, Then takes by force, not waiting our reply.

He grants us lands for pastures and abodes To devastate them by his iron roads.

But now from happy Spirit Lands, a friend Draws near the hunted Sioux, to strengthen and defend.

XI.

"While walking in the fields I saw a star; Unconsciously I followed it afar-- It led me on to valleys filled with light, Where danced our n.o.ble chieftains slain in fight.

Black Kettle, first of all that host I knew, He whom the strong armed Custer foully slew.

And then a spirit took me by the hand, The Great Messiah King who comes to free the land.

XII.

"Suns were his eyes, a speaking tear his voice, Whose rainbow sounds made listening hearts rejoice And thus he spake: 'The red man's hour draws near When all his lost domains shall reappear.

The elk, the deer, the bounding antelope, Shall here return to grace each gra.s.sy slope.'

He waved his hand above the fields, and lo!

Down through the valleys came a herd of buffalo.

XIII.

"The wondrous vision vanished, but I knew That Sitting Bull must make the promise true.

Great Spirits plan what mortal man achieves, The hand works magic when the heart believes.

Arouse, ye braves! let not the foe advance.

Arm for the battle and begin the dance-- The sacred dance in honor of our slain, Who will return to earth, ere many moons shall wane."

XIV.

Thus Sitting Bull, the chief of wily knaves, Worked on the superst.i.tions of his braves.

Mixed truth with lies; and stirred to mad unrest The warlike instinct in each savage breast.

A curious product of unhappy times, The natural offspring of unnumbered crimes, He used low cunning and dramatic arts To startle and surprise those crude untutored hearts.

XV.

Out from the lodges pour a motley throng, Slow measures chanting of a dirge-like song.

In one great circle dizzily they swing, A squaw and chief alternate in the ring.

Coa.r.s.e raven locks stream over robes of white, Their deep set orbs emit a lurid light, And as through pine trees moan the winds refrains, So swells and dies away, the ghostly graveyard strains.