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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=386539" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>As red men die</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">Captive! Is there a hell to him like this? <br>A taunt more galling than the Huron's hiss? <br>He--proud and scornful, he--who laughed at law, <br>He--scion of the deadly Iroquois, <br>He--the bloodthirsty, he--the Mohawk chief, <br>He--who despises pain and sneers at grief, <br>Here in the hated Huron's vicious clutch, <br>That even captive he disdains to touch! </div><div style="margin:10px 0">Captive! Butnever conquered; Mohawk brave <br>Stoops not to be to anyman a slave; <br>Least, to the puny tribe his soul abhors, <br>The tribe whose wigwams sprinkle Simcoe's shores. <br>With scowling brow he stands and courage high, <br>Watching with haughty and defiant eye <br>His captors, as they council o'er his fate, <br>Or strive his boldness to intimidate. <br>Then fling they unto him the choice; </div><div style="margin:10px 0">"Wilt thou walk o'er the bed of fire that waits thee now-- <br>Walk with uncovered feet upon the coals, <br>Until thou reach the ghostly Land of Souls, <br>And, with thy Mohawk death-song please our ear? <br>Or wilt thou with the women rest thee here?" <br>His eyes flash like an eagle's, and his hands <br>Clench at the insult. Like a god he stands. <br>"Prepare the fire!" he scornfully demands. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">He knoweth not that this same jeering band <br>Will bite the dust--will lick the Mohawk's hand; <br>Will kneel and cower at the Mohawk's feet; <br>Will shrink when Mohawk war drums wildly beat. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">HIs death will be avenged with hideous hate <br>By Iroquois, swift to annihilate <br>His vile detested captors, that now flaunt <br>Their war clubs in his face with sneer and taunt, <br>Not thinking, soon that reeeking, red, and raw, <br>Their scalps will deck the belts of Iroquois. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">The path of coals outstretches, white with heat, <br>A forest fir's length--ready for his feet. <br>Unflinching as a rock he steps along <br>The burning mass, and sings his wild war song; <br>Sings, as he sang when once he used to roam <br>Throughout the forests of his southern home, <br>Where, down the Genesee, the water roars, <br>Where gentle Mohawk purls between its shores, <br>Songs, that of exploit and of prowess tell; <br>Songs of the Iroquois invincible. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">Up the long trail of fire he boasting goes, <br>Dancing a war dance to defy his foes. <br>His flesh is scorched, his muscles burn and shrink. <br>But still he dances to death's awful brink. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">The eagle plume that crests his haughty head <br>Will never droop until his heart be dead. <br>Slower and slower yet his footsep swings, <br>Wilder and wilder still his death-song rings, <br>Fiercer and fiercer thro' the forest bounds <br>His voice that leaps to Happier Hunting Grounds. <br>One savage yell-- </div><div style="margin:10px 0">Then loyal to his race, <br>He bends to death--butnever to disgrace.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Emily+Pauline+Johnson">Emily Pauline Johnson</a><div class=q> <img src="https://www.citatepedia.ro/g/32share.png" style="float:left" alt="Share"> <script type="text/javascript" src="//s7.addthis.com/js/300/addthis_widget.js#pubid=citatepedia" async="async"></script><div style="display:inline-block" class="addthis_sharing_toolbox" data-url="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=386539" data-title="As red men die de Emily Pauline Johnson" data-description="Captive! Is there a hell to him like this? A taunt more galling than the Huron's hiss? He--proud and scornful, he--who laughed at law, He--scion of the deadly Iroquois, He--the bloodthirsty, he--the Mohawk chief, He--who despises pain and sne..."></div> </div> </div>
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