THE GUIDE

We rode across the level plain —

We — my sagacious guide and I.—

He knew the earth — the air — the sky;

He knew when it would blow or rain,

And when the weather would be dry:

The blended blades of grass spake out

To him when Redskins were about;

The wagon tracks would tell him too,

The very day that they rolled through:

He knew their burden — whence they came —

If any horse along were lame,

And what its owner ought to do;

He knew when it would snow; he knew,

By some strange intuition, when

The buffalo would overflow

The prairies like a flood, and then

Recede in their stampede again.

He knew all things — yea, he did know

The brand of liquor in my flask,

And many times did tilt it up,

Nor halt or hesitate one whit,

Nor pause to slip the silver cup

From off its crystal base, nor ask

Why I preferred to drink from it.

And more and more I plied him, and

Did query of him o'er and o'er,

And seek to lure from him the lore

By which the man did understand

These hidden things of sky and land:

And, wrought upon, he sudden drew

His bridle — wheeled, and caught my hand —

Pressed it, as one that loved me true,

And bade me listen.

................... There be few

Like tales as strange to listen to!

He told me all — How, when a child,

The Indians stole him — there he laughed —

“They stole me, and I stole their craft!”

Then slowly winked both eyes, and smiled,

And went on ramblingly,— “And they —

They reared me, and I ran away —

‘ Twas winter, and the weather wild;

And, caught up in the awful snows

That bury wilderness and plain,

I struggled on until I froze

My feet ere human hands again

Were reached to me in my distress,—

And lo, since then not any rain

May fall upon me anywhere,

Nor any cyclone's cussedness

Slip up behind me unaware,—

Nor any change of cold, or heat,

Or blow, or snow, but I do know

It's coming, days and days before;—

I know it by my frozen feet —

I know it by my itching heels,

And by the agony one feels

Who knows that scratching nevermore

Will bring to him the old and sweet

Relief he knew ere thus endowed

With knowledge that a certain cloud

Will burst with storm on such a day,

And when a snow will fall, and — nay,

I speak not falsely when I say

That by my tingling heels and toes

I measure time, and can disclose

The date of month — the week — and lo,

The very day and minute — yea —

Look at your watch!— An hour ago

And twenty minutes I did say

Unto myself with bitter laugh,

‘ In less than one hour and a half

Will I be drunken!’ Is it so?”