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'LET fall the portcullis,

Fling out to the breeze
My broad-spreading banner,'
Cried CHARLES of Duprise.
'The cravens shall rot

Ere they climb o'er the wall,
Or besieged and besiegers
Together shall fall.'

For days it was wafted

On rumor's swift wing,
That a knight wrought to anger
'Gainst country and king,
Had called in his vassals,

Had marshaled his band,
And with fire and with ruin
Was wasting the land.

Lord CHARLES in his castle
Laughed loudly in scorn,
As he poured the bright wine
From the deep jewelled horn.
'The madmen are rebels

'Gainst GoD and their king,

And the morrow the tale

Of the battle shall bring.

For the lords of the land

Shall rise up in their ire,
And rebellion shall vanish
Like smoke of a fire.
Their spirits forever

Unmassed shall remain,
And their bodies be food

For the beasts of the plain.'

Thus laughed he in scorn,
Till at night's murky hour,
Bright fires could be seen

From the castle's high tower.
And the messengers told

That thick swarming like bees,
The rebels were wasting

The lands of DUPRISE.


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Up started Sir CHARLES

In a fury of rage,

Loud thundered his orders
To vassal and page.
And before the star-dipper
Shone bright in the north,
Sir CHARLES and his vassals
To battle went forth.

Why tell how at mid-night
The rebels he met,

How the golden wheat harvest

With crimson was wet?

And before the red morn

Called the sun from the seas,

Sir CHARLES led his vassals

Again to Duprise.

In the grey of the morn,

As they passed through a waste,

The sword in the scabbard,
The corselet unbraced,
A cry rose around them,
Before and behind,

And the foe was upon them,
As swift as the wind.

Oh! fierce was the battle;
Rose high on the breeze
The loud, thrilling war-cry
For GoD and DUPRISE.
And when in his glory

He rose from the main,
The red sun looked down

On the heaps of the slain.

Sir CHARLES led his vassals

All weary and worn,

Through the streets of the village

Right sadly that morn.

For many a warrior

Had died in the fight,

Whose eye had gleamed bright

In the battle at night.

To the skirts of the village

The rebels came on, And the soldiery pillage

The shrine of ST. JOHN.

The troops to the castle
Retreat in despair ;
In the chapel the women
Seek safety in prayer.

Let fall the portcullis ;
Fling out to the breeze
My broad-spreading banner,'
Cried CHARLES of Duprise,

'The cravens shall rot

Ere they climb o'er the wall, Or besieged and besiegers Together shall fall.'

The portcullis fell,

And the draw-bridge uprose, And the broad moat runs deep

'Twixt the wall and the foes.

They cluster like ants

On the banks of the moat,

And strive to pass over

By raft and by boat.

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WHILE the travellers were loitering at the Adirondac Iron-works, Toney, their clever guide, proposed to initiate them into the toils and excitement of a mid-night hunt, or to 'float for deer,' as he named the sport.

So, having equipped themselves for camping out, the party set out about four o'clock one August afternoon to thread the four miles of tangled forest between the iron-works and the lake pitched upon as the scene of the nocturnal exploits.

The hunters reached the log camp at the lake about sun-set. During the tramp the clouds had been lowering and thickening, and by the time we reached our destination, the whole sky was densely packed with vapor, shutting ɔut the fragment that was left of day, and threatening a storm. Just over a burnt hemlock-knoll, five rods from camp, was the lake. As soon as we had laid aside our 'impedimenta,' and stowed our knapsacks, we cautiously stole down to reconnoitre the field.

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The lake was about sixty rods wide; a marshy belt, supporting a rank growth of grass and wild oats, skirted the opposite shore. A rifle-shot beyond arose a range of lofty mountains, whose shadows deepened the waters of the lake to an inky hue. The sportsmen's eyes, however, were directed exclusively to that belt of feeding-ground; and the eager scrutiny was soon repaid; for they had waited but a moment before a very large doe — Toney vouched that he had never seen so large a one directly stepped forth from the forest upon the marsh, attended by her half-grown fawn. Just then three deer came in sight a little way above, and after a few moments still another entered the marsh, so that there were six deer in view at once. The large doe was not more than sixty rods from the hunters, and it was interesting to watch the solicitude that led her, at every crop of the herbage, to switch aloft her tall neck and explore every nook of the shore. With a Sharp's rifle a good shot ought to reach her; yet we withstood the temptation to try the experiment, for the crack of a rifle would have driven every deer back into the woods, and perhaps have ruined the night's sport. So, with a parting look we got back to camp without starting them, and waited for darkness.

The darker the night, the surer the promise of success. A torch is planted upon the prow of the skiff, whose gleam lures the deer to stand gazing until the skiff glides within easy shot. The slightest disturbance, however the rippling of the water from the paddle, the grating of a bush against the boat's side, will awake the spell-bound deer, and with a snort of alarm he wheels, and with a single bound he is out of sight.

The eyes of the victim, as it gazes, glow like steady sparks of fire, and a long way off betray it to the hunter.

On our way through the woods, Toney had stripped from a white birch-tree a concave piece of bark, about two feet high, which, with a board fastened across the bottom, pierced for three candles, he mounted upon a staff. This impromptu 'reflector' is to stand upon the very prow of our skiff, and while it

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