The Indian's Revenge*

(A poem probably more than 100 years old. See letter in letter section)

To Dartmouth's scientific halls In olden time there came A sprightly red boy from the woods And Strongbow was his name.

Much had he heard of book-learned skill The white man's pride and boast An ardent wish this skill to gain His honest mind engrossed.

For soon he learned the white man's tongue To read, and write, and speak And soon by diligence was skilled In Latin, love and Greek.

In liberal arts and sciences With white boys he kept pace And there were few who ridiculed The color of his face.

But there was one New England youth Proud, over-bearing, rude Who often on poor Strongbow's peace Would tauntingly intrude.

But when assailed with treatment base The red boy simply said The time may yet arise when you May need and ask my aid.

Four studious years were rolled away On rapid wheels of time When Strongbow to his nation hied In distant western clime.

The white youth to his parents' sought Hard by the Atlantick shore And little dreamed he ever should see His tawny classmate more.

But when to sturdy manhood grown A captain he became And the loud tramp of war was heard And kindled was its flame.

For Britons proud essayed to rule Against the freeman's right Engaged the red men on their side And armed them for the fight.

A battle fierce ere long was fought Between the whites and reds And many heroes were laid low Upon their gory beds.

The Indians gained the victory The Captain prisoner seized And him with many a taunting threat Imperiously they teased.

An awful council they convene The Captain's case to try And to atone for warriors slain They sentenced him to die.

The Captain quickly to the tree With torturing cords was bound The pitchy faggots near him placed While fire-brands gleamed around.

In death's drowning dance they join The fiend-like death song sing When firmly steps their sachem forth To the center of the ring.

And do you know me, Sir, said he View carefully this face. I know you not, was the reply But humbly beg for grace.

You knew me once the chief rejoined And you shall know again One Strongbow on whom loudly You oft inflicted pain.

Strongbow brave chieftain I confess With shame you tell the truth But still you know it was the fault Of unreflecting youth.

Captain, you know the Indian well He never can forget A favor or an injury When friend or foe is met.

Brave chief I to my fate submit But for my loving wife My parents, and my children dear I humbly beg my life.

Take it although he can't forget An Indian can forgive At liberty the white man set Brave comrades let him live.

*Supplied by Principal O. B. Mathewson, Lyndon Institute, Lyndon Center, Vt.