Part 7 (1/2)

As the soul in deep communion, Seeks some isolated bower Where the body's sordid cravings Yield beneath the spirit's power, So the searcher, bowed in reverence, Left untouched his evening fare As he listened to the voices Of the shadows gathering there.

Here no lighted torch or camp fire With its weak and fitful ray, Could illume the mystic journey Of prayer's consecrated way.

Here the silence brought its message Of forebodings, vague and deep, In its visions to the dreamer, Through the mystery of sleep.

24

In his dreams he saw a monarch Decked in sumptuous array, Seated on a throne of glory, Bearing royal t.i.tle, Day.

Then some mighty power transcendent, Thrust him from his gorgeous throne, Turning all the realm to darkness, And the world was left alone.

As the shades of gloom were spreading, By strange flas.h.i.+ng threads of light He beheld in dim-drawn outline, On the background of the night, Phantom horse and girlish rider, Speeding on in reckless race, Till she turned directly toward him And he saw her fearless face.

25

Then, behold! the King returning With a pageantry so bright, That the shadow-clad usurpers Fled in ignominious fright.

As he saw the hosts approaching Through a cloud of battle smoke, Charging wildly down upon him, He, in sudden fear, awoke.

As he looked, the blackened heavens Splashed with demon-tinted blood From the hue of burning prairie Throbbed above the fiery flood.

Leaping o'er the rounded bluff-tops, Down the valley's long incline, He could see the lurid column Spread its blazing battle line.

26

Like a troop of charging hors.e.m.e.n Sweeping on with maddened roar, Mowing down the gra.s.s battalions, Crackling flames swept all before.

Then the driftwood's rifted breastwork, Left there by the waters high, Flashed up in a hissing furnace, As the red-armed fiends leaped by.

Clinging to the swaying saddle And the plunging horse's mane, Billy dashed through falling embers To the level, open plain.

On the right and left, the head fires Rus.h.i.+ng on at furious pace, Stretched beside the horse and rider In the life-and-death-fought race.

27

Here the gale with venomed fury Met in vortex from afar, Raising high the flaming pennons Of the fiery fiends of war.

Flas.h.i.+ng by, the blazing gra.s.s stems Sped like arrows through the air, Falling on the distant prairie, Kindling fresh fires everywhere.

Pressing through the low-flung smoke clouds-- Stifling fumes of Hades' breath-- Fiercer with each flying moment Drove those scorching blasts of death.

Thrice his horse, 'neath quirt and rowel Bravely struggling, almost fell, As he fled in desperation O'er the trail that led through h.e.l.l.

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One poor singed and panting coyote Through the perils of the ride Hemmed in by the flames pursuing Ran close by the horse's side.

Scarce a meager pace behind them, Pressing hard the coyote's rear, Raced a frantic old jack rabbit, Ears laid low in speed and fear.

Reaching now a stretch of upland, Here the coyote changed his course, Breaking through the narrow side-fire, Followed fast by hare and horse; And, upon the smoking prairie Over which the fire had pa.s.sed, Steaming horse and stricken rider Found a breathing s.p.a.ce at last.

[Ill.u.s.tration: ”Fiercer with each flying moment Drove those scorching blasts of death.”]

29

When the morning sun in splendor Rose upon the blackened plain, His red beams revealed the lover Back at Old Man's Bend again.

Waist deep in its soothing waters Bathing blistered brow and hands; While near by, in pain a-tremble, Faithful Zeb impatient stands.

Through the bend he searched and wandered, But except the furrowed bark, Of a gnarled and aged elm tree Which revealed one bullet-mark, Naught was left save blackened embers; And the words he ”knew in part”-- ”Dust to dust and then to ashes”-- Told the story of his heart.