Proud was the chief of his warriors proud,
The sinewy sons of the Giant’s race;
But the bravest of all was the tall Red Cloud;
The eyes of the panther were set in his face;
He strode like a stag and he stood like a pine;
Ten feathers he wore of the great Wanmdee,[13]
With crimsoned quills of the porcupine
His leggins were worked to his brawny knee. 
Blood-red were the stripes on his swarthy cheek,
And the necklace that girdled his brawny neck
Was the polished claws of the great Mato[14]
He grappled and slew in the northern snow. 
Proud Red Cloud turned to the braves and said,
As he shook the plumes on his haughty head: 
“Ho! the warrior that scorneth the foe and fire
Heyoka will crown with his heart’s desire!”
He snatched from the embers a red-hot brand,
And held it aloft in his naked hand. 
He stood like a statue in bronze or stone—­
Not a muscle moved, and the braves looked on. 
He turned to the chieftain—­“I scorn the fire—­
Ten feathers I wear of the great Wanmdee;
Then grant me, Wakawa, my heart’s desire;
Let the sunlight shine in my lonely tee.[19]
I laugh at red death and I laugh at red fire;
Brave Red Cloud is only afraid of fear;
But Wiwaste is fair to his heart and dear;
Then grant him, Wakawa, his heart’s desire.” 
The warriors applauded with loud “Ho!  Ho!"[24]
And he flung the brand to the drifting snow. 
Three times Wakawa puffed forth the smoke
From his silent lips; then he slowly spoke: 
“Mahpiya is strong as the stout-armed oak
That stands on the bluff by the windy plain,
And laughs at the roar of the hurricane. 
He has slain the foe and the great Mato
With his hissing arrow and deadly stroke
My heart is swift but my tongue is slow. 
Let the warrior come to my lodge and smoke;
He may bring the gifts;[25] but the timid doe
May fly from the hunter and say him no.”

Wiwaste sat late in the lodge alone,
Her dark eyes bent on the glowing fire: 
She heard not the wild winds shrill and moan;
She heard not the tall elms toss and groan;
Her face was lit like the harvest moon;
For her thoughts flew far to her heart’s desire. 
Far away in the land of the Hohe[15] dwelt
The warrior she held in her secret heart;
But little he dreamed of the pain she felt,
For she hid her love with a maiden’s art. 
Not a tear she shed, not a word she said,
When the brave young chief from the lodge departed;
But she sat on the mound when the day was dead,
And gazed at the full moon mellow-hearted. 
Fair was the chief as the morning-star;
His eyes were mild and his words were low,
But his heart was stouter than lance or bow;
And her young heart flew to her love afar
O’er his trail long covered with drifted snow. 
She heard a warrior’s stealthy tread,
And the tall Wakawa appeared, and said: 
“Is Wiwaste afraid of the spirit dread
That fires the sky in the fatal north?[26]
Behold the mysterious lights.  Come forth: 
Some evil threatens, some danger nears,
For the skies are pierced by the burning spears.”