Chapter II

They had started in arms from Fort Lewis,
One morn, in pursuit of the foe;
They had gone at the hour before dawning,
Over hills and through valleys below,
Leaving there, with the children and women,
John Lewis, unfitted to go.

Too weak for the toil of the travel,
Too old in the fight to have part,
Too feeble to stalk through the forest,
Yet fierce as a storm in his heart—
He chafed that without him his neighbors
Should thus to the battle-field start.

“How well,” he exclaimed, “I remember,
When over my threshold there came
A proud and an arrogant noble
To proffer me outrage and shame,
To bring to my household dishonor,
And offer my roof to the flame—

“I rose up erect in my manhood,
The sword of my fathers I drew;
In spite of his many retainers,
That arrogant noble I slew,
And then, with revenge fully sated,
Bade home and my country adieu.

“Ah, were I but stronger and younger,
How eager and ready, to-day,
I would move with the bravest and boldest,
As first in the perilous fray;
But now, while the rest do the fighting,
A laggard, with women I stay.”

The women they laughed when they heard him,
But one answered kindly, and said,
“Uncle John, though the days have departed
When our chiefest your orders obeyed,
Yet still, at the name of John Lewis,
The Mingos grow weak and afraid.

“Yon block-house were weak as a shelter,
Were blood-thirsty savages near,
Yet while you are at hand to defend us,
Not one of us women would fear,
But laugh at their malice and anger,
Though hundreds of foemen were here.”

Away to their work went the women—
Some drove off the cattle to browse;
Some swept from the hearth the cold embers;
Some started to milking the cows;
While Lewis went into the block-house,
And said unto Maggie, his spouse,

“Ah, would they but come to besiege me,
They’d find, though no more on the trail
I may move as in earlier manhood—
Though thus, in my weakness, I rail—
That to handle the death-dealing rifle,
These fingers of mine would not fail.”