Classic Poem

His eyes are dim, he gropes his way,
His step is doubtful, slow,
And now men pass him by today:
But forty years ago —
Why forty years ago I say
Old Gib was good to know.

For, forty years ago today,
Where cars glide to and fro,
The Modoc held the world at bay,
And blood was on the snow.
Ay, forty years ago I say
Old Gib was good to know.

Full forty years ago today
This valley lay in flame;
Up yonder pass and far away,
Red ruin swept the same:
Two women, with their babes at play,
Were butchered in black shame.

'Twas then with gun and flashing eye
Old Gib loomed like a pine;
" Now will you fight, or will you fly?
I'll take a fight in mine.
Come let us fight; come let us die! "
There came just twenty-nine.

Just twenty-nine who dared to die,
And, too, a motley crew
Of half-tamed red men; would they fly,
Or would they fight him too?
No time to question or reply,
That was a time to do .

Up, up, straight up where thunders grow
And growl in Castle Rocks,
Straight up till Shasta gleamed in snow,
And shot red battle shocks;
Till clouds lay shepherded below,
A thousand ghostly flocks.

Yet up and up Old Gibson led,
No looking backward then;
His bare feet bled; the rocks were red
From torn, bare-footed men.
Yet up, up, up, till well nigh dead —
The Modoc in his den!

Then cried the red chief from his height,
" Now, white man, what would you?
Behold my hundreds for the fight,
But yours so faint and few;
We are as rain, as hail at night
But you, you are as dew.

" White man, go back; I beg go back,
I will not fight so few;
Yet if I hear one rifle crack,
Be that the doom of you!
Back! down, I say, back down your track,
Back, down! What else to do?

" What else to do? Avenge or die!
Brave men have died before;
And you shall fight, or you shall fly.
You find no women more,
No babes to butcher now; for I
Shall storm your Castle's door! "

Then bang! whiz bang! whiz bang and ping!
Six thousand feet below,
Sweet Sacramento ceased to sing,
But wept and wept, for oh!
These arrows sting as adders sting,
And they kept stinging so.

Then one man cried: " Brave men have died,
And we can die as they;
But ah! my babe, my one year's bride!
And they so far away.
Brave Captain, lead us back — aside,
Must all here die today? "

His face, his hands, his body bled:
Yea, no man there that day —
No white man there but turned to red,
In that fierce fatal fray;
But Gib with set teeth only said:
" No; we came here to stay! "

They stayed and stayed, and Modocs stayed,
But when the night came on,
No white man there was now afraid,
The last Modoc had gone;
His ghost in Castle Rocks was laid
Till everlasting dawn.