"Vengeance on the white marauders,
Vengeance on their gathered host,
Who are grasping all our borders,
From the mountains to the coast.
They have robbed us, they have slain us,
But their Law shall never chain us,—
For the red-tongued scalping-knife
Shall declare the wrongs we bear.
In exterminating strife.
Rouse our overwhelming numbers!
Blood for blood, and life for life!
Strike their war-men in their slumbers.
Fire the home, and brain the wife!"
Yelled the savage WAH-LAH-WAH-LAHS,
With a peal that rent the sky,
Like the terrible " il-Allahs"
Of the Moslem's charging cry.
All the vale of Sacramento
Shuddered at the vengeful yell;
Ever clearer, louder, nearer,
Clearer, louder, more terrific,
On the scattered Homes it fell.
Till the snowy-peaked Sierra,
Thousand-echoed, caught the terror,
And her wrath-white lips magnific
Flung it to the broad Pacific,
With an ever-deepening swell.
Followers of the Eagle Banner!
Conquerors of the "Golden Gate!"
Periled life, and periled honor.
In a swirl of refluent fate,
North and south, upon you wait!
Rebel Dons at Santa Barbara
Snatch the loosened reins of State;
While the angered northern savage.
Eager now to burn and ravage,
In your perils grown elate,
For the fatal moment waits,
When but blood his fury sates.
Where is now the dauntless Leader
Of the never-daunted clan?
He who on the white Nevada —
On the peak "del Gabellân"-
Hung before his narrow van
Freedom's meteor flag again,
Threatful with its bloody bars,
Glaring with defiant stars
On the treacherous Mexican ?
Where is now the "Iron Man"
With his Braves who never blanch.
Who, in spite of twanging bow,
Lance's hiss, and axe's blow,
Rode that ride at Redding's Ranch,
On a forest of the foe?
Summoning his bold Battalion,
He has turned to tame Rebellion
On the hills of Santa Barbara, —
Santa Barbara won and lost,
Where their mettle soon was tried,
Fiercely, at the next Yule-tide,
As the storm in sleety horror
Wrapt the shuddering Sierra,
While the dauntless hero cross'd.
With their Leader, side by side,
They, in valor's hardy pride,
Charged the Elemental Host,
Though a hundred horses died
By the arrows of the Frost!
Needs the land such mettle now,
For a quick and deadly blow
In the Sacramento's valley,
Where the savage Wah-lah-wah-lahs
To the dance of vengeance rally
Like the heroes in Valhalla's
Wassail wild, from ghastly bowls
Pledging their infernal "skoals.''
Turn, thou thunder-bolt of war.
Flash thy lightnings on the north;
“Help!'' forsaken wives implore,
Old and worn, who fight no more,
Babes and virgins near and far,
Call thy conquering valor forth.
Eager for the fearful fray,
Round the Leader flocked his band,
Fiery heart and iron hand,
On their chargers fierce as they.
Snuffing battle in the gale
That swept broadly down the vale,
Seemed, in equal ardor fit,
Horse and Rider champed the bit,
As impatient of delay.
But the Chieftain, with the lifting
Of his right hand, waved away
All the longing Rangers, thronging.
Panting for the savage fray.
"Not to-day! not to-day!
I have need of picked companions
For my conquerless array;
Ye who ran the roaring cañons,
Making hardihood a play,
Well can do what valor may;
But a courage more divine
Must be mine, if Heaven incline
In my perilous path to shine.
"Under that great Eye who sees us,
I must go, and you must stay;
Let your fiery valor burn,
It shall blaze, at my return,
On the ramparts of Don Jesus,
And the rebel south affray.
Now with these my chosen Three,
I go forth to victory,
Or what fate the Power decrees us
Whom to know is to obey."
Forth they rode, the gallant Four,
Rode the Leader with his Three,
From the wonder of their fellows,
Why they rode, or why no more,
On so fierce an enemy;
Forth they rode with equal flight
Till they heard the war-whoop's roar,
Saw the war-fires burning bright,
Saw the angry Wah-lah-wah-lahs
Whet their vengeance for the fight;
Heard the cry which filled the hollows
With far echoes of affright,
As the judgment-knells of conscience
Fill the murderer's dreams by night.
With a slow and measured tramp,
Rode the One before the Three,
Straight into the stormy camp,
Roaring round them like a sea;
Straight to where the old War-Sachem
Swung his axe in savage glee,
On imagined scalp-locks clutching,
From invisible mothers snatching
Babes his wrath alone could see.
In a lull of sudden wonder —
Hush of that mid-volleyed thunder,
Which might make the terror grander,
Thus outspake the bold Commander :
"I have heard the wrongs you suffer,
Heard the cry of your distress;
Here with open hands I proffer
Pledge and promise of redress.
I have steeds as fleet as arrows,
And unerring as the bow —
I will bring them when the sparrows
Sing for the retreating snow;
Though for many lingering morrows
Southward down the coast I go.
Chase the game along the narrows,
Elk and deer and buffalo:
Call your kinsfolk, your companions,
To the better way ye learn;
Spear the salmon in the cañons —
Hunt and fish, and spare the lives
Of our little ones and wives —
Live in peace till I return:
And this warrior by my side
With your gallant Braves may ride,
Holding up our Banner's pride.
That before your path shall burn,
An inviolate guard and guide,
He were rash who dared to spurn !"
Peace was on the Leader's brow.
And Persuasion on his tongue ;
Honor sealed his simple vow,
Faith on every accent hung.
From his lip whose smile was balm,
From his eye whose glance was law,
Round him grew a ring of calm,
Round him grew a ring of awe;
For his words were words of truth,
And his look was silent Power:
Hoary chief and fiery youth.
Yielding all the centered weight
Of their hoarded wrath and hate.
To an action calm and great.
Were the conquest of that hour.
"Take," he said, "my bearded Brave,
Pledge my foot will never lag
In the promises I gave;
Take the white man's starry Flag,
For where'er its splendors wave
O'er your march, by dell and crag,
Moves the great shield of our Law;
And the foe that strikes that banner
Strikes me, and the jealous honor
Of a broad Land, stretching far
Both her arms, of Peace and War !"
Ceased the war-cry of the savage,
Ceased the will to burn and ravage,
And the valleys slept again.
Backward rode the gallant Three,
Rode the Leader and his Twain,
From a bloodless victory,
From a field without its slain;
And the boldest Wah-lah-wah-lahs
Rode to battle in his train.
California
