Many Many Moons/Red-Rock, the Moose-Hunter
RED-ROCK, THE MOOSE-HUNTER
Bronze in the rose-dusted twilight,A statue of bronze, arms uplifted,He stands ankle-deep in the liliesAs rigidly fixed and as silentAs a red granite butte on the prairie,As still as the dusk in the foot-hills—"Ugh! Red-Rock, big hunter-of-moose!Red-Rock, him fool-um old bull!Red-Rock, big moose-killer!—Ugh!"Bronze in the tranquil sunset,Statuesque bronze in the willows.
A sudden rush through the lilies;A splashing of flashing limbs,Shattering his mirror of silver,—Juggling his gold-glinted rainbows,And flinging them into the winds;A sudden swoop through the waters,A sudden scoop of the hands,—And bronze in the copper twilight,With arms uplifted he stands,Statuesque bronze in the lilies—"Red-Rock, big caller-of-moose!—Ugh!"
Dripping, dripping, drippingBlue-shimmering drops through his fingers; Dripping, dripping, drippingThin tinkling streams from his palms;Plashing, plashing, plashingCupped handfuls of silvery watersSplashing among the lilies—Black bronze in the purple twilight,Statuesque bronze in the night—"Red-Rock! Big hunter-of-moose!—Ugh!"
A long low call from the valley;A bellow, an echoing bugleMellow and deep with the passionOf lone longing male for his mate:"Hark! Hark! sweet One-in-the-Lilies!Ho! my Splashing-One! Ho!I come!—with my limbs aquiver!I come!—with a straining of flanks!"
Beat-beating, beat-beating, beat-beating,Long-loping feet in the forest;A clashing of horn tn the timber,A crashing of hoofs in the brush,—A splash in the placid bayou,An eager nose to the air,And lo! a palpitant bellow,A wild-ringing rapturous blare! . . .
Black bronze in the cool blue moonlight!Black statuesque bronze in the night!Cupped hands to the stars uplifted,—Dripping, dripping, dripping Thin tinkling streamlets of silver,Soft-plashing fountains of silver,Shimmering-blue sprinklings of silver—"Red-Rock! Big killer-of-moose!—Ugh!"