Page:A New Zealand verse (1906).pdf/166

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The Coming of Te Rauparaha.
Had they left one worthy chieftain onlyWho could lead my people on to victory,Who could follow where my feet have trodden,Might yet rear their name into a pillarCarved with fame, until their stubborn storyFrom the mists of legend broke tremendous,Flaming through the chilly years to followWith a sunset-splendour, huge, heroic! . . .”
So he ceased, and tremulous the silenceSighed to voice in one long wail of sorrow.So; it was the truth that Hipe taught them:None was left to lead them on to victory;None could follow where his feet had trodden.
Then by name old Hipe called the chieftains—Weakling sons of that gaunt wrinkled giant,Stunted saplings blanching in the shadowOf the old tree’s overarching greatness.One by one he called them, and they shivered,For they knew no answer to his question,“Can you lead my people on to victory?Can you follow where my feet have trodden?”
Then the old chief in his anger chantedFrenziedly a song of scorn of all things,And the frightened people of the village—Warriors and women of his hapu—Quavered into murmurs ’neath the whirlwindOf his lashing words; and then he frettedInto gusts of anger; and the lizardMade a greenish ripple in the darkness,Shuddering closer to him. And the peopleBending heard a whisper pass above them,“Is there none to lead you on to victory,None to follow where my feet have trodden?”
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