And one, in years a youth, in woe a man, Sad Brewster, scarred by sorrow's blighting ban, Looks, panting, where his captive sister sleeps, And o'er his face the shade of murder creeps. His nostrils quiver like a hungry beast Who scents anear the bloody carnal feast. He longs to leap down in that slumbering vale And leave no foe alive to tell the awful tale.

XXXVIII.

Not so, calm Custer. Sick of gory strife, He hopes for rescue with no loss of life; And plans that bloodless battle of the plains Where reasoning mind outwits mere savage brains. The sullen soldiers follow where he leads; No gun is emptied, and no foeman bleeds. Fierce for the fight and eager for the fray They look upon their Chief in undisguised dismay.

XXXIX.

He hears the murmur of their discontent, But sneers can never change a strong mind's bent. He knows his purpose and he does not swerve, And with a quiet mien and steady nerve He meets dark looks where'er his steps may go, And silence that is bruising as a blow, Where late were smiles and words of ardent praise. So pass the lagging weeks of wearying delays.

XL.

Inaction is not always what it seems, And Custer's mind with plan and project teems. Fixed in his peaceful purpose he abides With none takes counsel and in none confides; But slowly weaves about the foe a net Which leaves them wholly at his mercy, yet He strikes no fateful blow; he takes no life, And holds in check his men, who pant for bloody strife.

XLI.

Intrepid warrior and skilled diplomate, In his strong hands he holds the red man's fate. The craftiest plot he checks with counterplot, Till tribe by tribe the tricky foe is brought To fear his vengeance and to know his power As man's fixed gaze will make a wild beast cower, So these crude souls feel that unflinching will Which draws them by its force, yet does not deign to kill.

XLII.

And one by one the hostile Indians send Their chiefs to seek a peaceful treaty's end. Great councils follow; skill with cunning copes And conquers it; and Custer sees his hopes So long delayed, like stars storm hidden, rise To radiate with splendor all his skies. The stubborn Cheyennes, cowed at last by fear, Leading the captive pair, o'er spring-touched hills appear.

XLIII.

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