The mute epistles, meant for friendly sight,—
Unseen of eyes inimical or strange,
Lest rumor of them reach the bigot's ear,
And persecution find him even here.
XXXVI.
Among the several tribes around to go,
And sound the feelings of each different clan,
Seemed not unmeet; but little did he know
How they might treat a pale-faced outlawed man,
Friendless and homeless, wandering to and fro,
And flying from his own white brethren's ban;
They, for a price, might strike the fatal blow,
Or bear him captive to his ruthless foe.
XXXVII.
Better it were, so deemed our Father well,
To seek and win the savage by degrees,
Since to his lot the dangerous duty fell,
(For such did seem high Heaven's all-wise decrees),
To found unarmed a State where rung the yell
Of barbarous nations on the midnight breeze;
Against the scalping-knife with no defence
Or safeguard but his heart's benevolence.
XXXVIII.
With only this, his buckler and his brand—
This, yet unproved and doubted by the best,—
In cheerless wilds, mid many a savage band,
Spurned from his home, by Christian men opprest,
Must he the warrior's weapon turn, his hand
Unnerve, and gently o'er his rugged breast
Gain mastery. The panther by the hare
Must be approached and softened in his lair.
