Come again! e'er comes the winter,
Let us hear your horses' feet."
And they sprang into their saddles,
Swept, white-splashing, through a stream
Red and saffron hued, the pageant
Crossed the blue translucent gleam.
Then unwilling, as they vanished,
"Star-Child" slow to camp returned;
Told the council of the Blackfeet
All the marvels he had learned;
Dressed him in his chief's apparel,
Rode to where, within the glen,
Lay the trail that led him onward
To the town, unknown of men.


VIII.

From each Moya thronged the dwellers:
"Hath the chief the arrows sent?"
"I am Chief; behold me; trust me.
Lead me to your ruler's tent."
"He hath not the shafts enchanted;
Thus unarmed came never chief!"
Bent a thousand bows around him:
"Back or die, impostor, thief!"
Angry, yet afraid to anger,
Lest he lose those "Laughing-Eyes,"
He, obeying, vowed to conquer;
Scorning to make vain replies,