Poetry

KIT CARSON'S RIDE.

(revised)

by Joaquin Miller


  • Room! room to turn round in, to breathe and be free,
  • To grow to be giant, to sail as at sea
  • With the speed of the wind on a steed with his mane
  • To the wind, without pathway or route or a rein.
  • Room! room to be free where the white border'd sea
  • Blows a kiss to a brother as boundless as he;
  • Where the buffalo come like a cloud on the plain,
  • Pouring on like the tide of a storm driven main,
  • And the lodge of the hunter to friend or to foe
  • Offers rest; and unquestion'd you come or you go.
  • My plains of America! Seas of wild lands!
  • From a land in the seas in a raiment of foam,
  • That has reached to a stranger the welcome of home,
  • I turn to you, lean to you,

  • London, 1871.

  • Run? Run? See this flank, sir, and I do love him so!
  • But he's blind as a badger. Whoa, Pache, boy, whoa.
  • No, you wouldn't believe it to look at his eyes,
  • But he's blind, badger blind, and it happen'd this wise:

  • "We lay in the grass and the sunburnt clover
  • That spread on the ground like a great brown cover
  • Northward and southward, and west and away
  • To the Brazos, where our lodges lay,
  • One broad and unbroken level of brown.
  • We were waiting the curtains of night to come down
  • To cover us trio 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 lounged in the grass-her eyes were in mine,
  • And her hands on my knee, and her hair was as wine
  • In its wealth and its flood, pouring on and all over
  • Her bosom wine red, and press'd never by one.
  • Her touch was as warm as the tinge of the clover
  • Burnt brown as it reach'd to the kiss of the sun.
  • Her words they were low as the lute-throated dove,
  • And as laden with love as the heart when it beats
  • In its hot, eager answer to earliest love,
  • Or the bee hurried home by its burthen of sweets.

  • We lay low in the grass on the broad plain levels,
  • Old Revels and I, and my stolen brown bride;
  • "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 peer'd at the sun, lying low on his back,
  • Holding fast to his lasso. Then he jerk'd at his steed
  • And he sprang to his feet, and glanced swiftly around,
  • And then dropp'd, as if shot, with an ear to the ground;
  • Then again to his feet, and to me, to my bride,
  • While his eyes were like flame, his face like a shroud,
  • His form like a king, and his beard like a cloud,
  • And his voice loud and shrill, as both trumpet and reed,
  • "Pull, pull in your lassoes, and bridle to steed,
  • And speed you if ever for life you would speed.
  • Aye, ride for your lives, for your lives you must ride!
  • For the plain is aflame, the prairie on fire,
  • And the 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 lassoes, seized saddle and rein,
  • Threw them on, cinched them on, cinched them over again,
  • And again drew the girth; and spring we to horse,
  • With head to the Brazos, with a sound in the air
  • Like the surge of a sea, with a flash in the eye,
  • From that red wall of flame reaching up to the sky;
  • A red wall of flame and a black rolling sea
  • Rushing fast upon us, as the wind sweeping free
  • And afar from the desert blown hollow and hoarse.

  • "Not a word, not a wail from a lip was let fall,
  • 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.

  • 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 look'd 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.
  • He rode neck to neck with a buffalo bull,
  • That made the earth shake where he came in his course,
  • 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 hoarse.
  • His keen, crooked horns, through the storm of his mane,
  • Like black lances lifted and lifted again;
  • And I looked but this once, for the fire licked through,
  • And Revels was gone, as we rode two and two.

  • "I look'd to my left then-and nose, neck,and shoulder
  • Sank slowly, sank surely, 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 leaping far for her glorious hair.
  • Her sinking horse falter'd, plunged, fell and was gone
  • As I reach'd through the flame and I bore her still on.
  • On! into the Brazos, she, Pache and I -
  • Poor, burnt, blinded Pache. I love him..That's why.