What spread on the ground like a great brown
E lay in the grasses and the sunburnt clover
Northward and southward, and west and away To the Brazos, to where our lodges lay, One broad and unbroken sea of brown,
Awaiting the curtains of night to come down To cover us over and conceal our flight
With my brown bride, won from an Indian town That lay in the rear the full ride of a night.
We lay low in the grass on the broad plain levels, Old Revels and I, and my stolen brown bride; And the heavens of blue and the harvest of brown And beautiful clover were welded as one,
To the right and the left, in the light of the sun.
Forty full miles, if a foot, to ride,
Forty full miles, if a foot, and the devils
Of red Comanches are hot on the track
When once they strike it. Let the sun go down Soon, very soon," muttered bearded old Revels, As he peered at the sun, lying low on his back, Holding fast to his lasso. Then he jerked at his steed, And he sprang to his feet, and glanced swiftly around, And then dropped, as if shot, with his ear to the ground.
Then again to his feet, and to me, to my bride, While his eyes were like fire, his face like a shroud, His form like a king, and his beard like a cloud, And his voice loud and shrill, as if blown from a reed "Pull, pull in your lassos, and bridle to steed, And speed you, if ever for life if ever for life you would speed, And ride for your lives, for your lives you must ride ! For the plain is aflame, the prairie on fire,
And feet of wild horses hard flying before I hear like a sea breaking high on the shore,
While the buffalo come like a surge of the sea, Driven far by the flame, driving fast on us three, As a hurricane comes, crushing palms in his ire."
We drew in the lassos, seized saddle and rein,
Threw them on, cinched them on, cinched them over again, And bared to the skin sprang all haste to the horse Turned head to the Brazos in a red race with death, Turned head to the Brazos with a breath in the hair Blowing hot from a king leaving death in his course; Turned head to the Brazos with a sound in the air Like the rush of an army, and a flash in the eye Of a red wall of fire reaching up to the sky, Stretching fierce in pursuit of a black rolling sea Rushing fast upon us, as the wind sweeping free And afar from the desert blew hollow and hoarse.
Not a word, not a wail from a lip was let fall Not a kiss from my bride, not a look nor low call Of love note or courage; but on o'er the plain So steady and still, leaning low to the mane,
With the heel to the flank and the hand to the rein, Rode we on, rode we three, rode we nose and gray nose, Reaching long, breathing loud, as a creviced wind blows: Yet we broke not a whisper, we breathed not a prayer, There was work to be done, there was death in the air, And the chance was as one to a thousand for all.
Gray nose to gray nose, and each steady mustang
Stretched neck and stretched nerve till the arid earth rang,
And the foam from the flank and the croup and the neck Flew around like the spray on a storm-driven deck. Twenty miles. . . thirty miles . . . a dim distant speck Then a long reaching line, and the Brazos in sight, And I rose in my seat with a shout of delight. I stood in my stirrup and looked to my right
But Revels was gone; I glanced by my shoulder And saw his horse stagger; I saw his head drooping Hard down on his breast, and his naked breast stooping
Low down to the mane, as so swifter and bolder
Ran reaching out for us the red-footed fire.
To right and to left the black buffalo came, A terrible surf on a red sea of flame
Rushing on in the rear, reaching high, reaching higher. And he rode neck to neck to a buffalo bull, The monarch of millions, with shaggy mane full Of smoke and of dust, and it shook with desire Of battle, with rage and with bellowings loud And unearthly, and up through its lowering cloud
Came the flash of his eyes like a half-hidden fire,
While his keen crooked horns, through the storm of his
Like black lances lifted and lifted again;
And I looked but this once, for the fire licked through, And he fell and was lost, as we rode two and two.
I looked to my left then Sank slowly, sank surely,
and nose, neck, and shoulder till back to my thighs;
And up through the black blowing veil of her hair Did beam full in mine her two marvelous eyes, With a longing and love, yet a look of despair And of pity for me, as she felt the smoke fold her, And flames reaching far for her glorious hair. Her sinking steed faltered, his eager eyes fell To and fro and unsteady, and all the neck's swell Did subside and recede, and the nerves fall as dead.
Then she saw sturdy Paché still lorded his head, With a look of delight; for nor courage nor bride, Nor naught but my bride, could have brought him to me. For he was her father's and at South Santafee
Had once won a whole herd, sweeping everything down In a race where the world came to run for the crown. And so when I won the true heart of my bride — My neighbor's and deadliest enemy's child, And child of the kingly war chief of his tribe She brought me this steed to the border the night She met Revels and me in her perilous flight
From the lodge of the chief to the North Brazos side;
And said, so half guessing of ill as she smiled, As if jesting, that I, and I only, should ride The fleet-footed Paché, so if kin should pursue
I should surely escape without other ado
Than to ride, without blood, to the North Brazos side, And await her and wait till the next hollow moon Hung her horn in the palms, when surely and soon
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