That broke the silence seemed a sacrilege.

Then thro' the palm trees glided like a ghost

A dusky form; the curtain of the dark

Was rent with life, the forest brought forth men.

Instinct with morning every eye was bright,

Tho' sleep so lately lay across their lids.

2

No sinister intent had called them forth

Upon the shadows. May held out her hands,

And all the men who dared the dangerous sport

Were faring where the great bonita played,—

Strong shining fish below the mid sea waves.

Upon the beach beneath the paling moon

The boats were launched. Amid the busy stir

One man stood idle; as a chief might order,

He bade the youths prepare his long canoe.

With folded arms he gravely watched the rest

And gave them salutation haughtily.

Uhila[1] was he called, and in his veins

There ran a slender stream of northern blood.

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