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Updated: June 25, 2025
So he turned insultingly deaf ears to their war-cries; he ignored with arrogant indifference their paddle-dips that encroached within his own coast waters, and he prepared, as a great Tyee should, to royally entertain his tribesmen in honor of his daughters. "But seven suns before the great feast these two maidens came before him, hand clasped in hand.
Again the chief smiled kindly and said in a coaxing tone, "Baby, come to me." Wasis looked again at the chief. Then he took a bite of the maple sugar. Glooskap then arose, frowning; he stamped his foot angrily, and he spoke savagely. "Baby, come to me." Wasis dropped his maple sugar. "Goo, goo!" he said; "Goo, goo! Goo, goo, goo!" "These must be his war-cries!" thought the chief.
He shouted out his war-cries and the names of chiefs whom he had slain, and the blows of his awful axe rained straight and true, shearing through everything they fell on.
A wild, chaotic, sanguinary scene. Here, bishop and baron contend, centuries long, murdering human creatures by ten thousands for an acre or two of swampy pasture; there, doughty families, hugging old musty quarrels to their heart, buffet each other from generation to generation; thus they go on, raging and wrestling among themselves, with all the world, shrieking insane war-cries which no human soul ever understood red caps and black, white hoods and grey, Hooks and Kabbeljaws, dealing destruction, building castles and burning them, tilting at tourneys, stealing bullocks, roasting Jews, robbing the highways, crusading now upon Syrian sands against Paynim dogs, now in Frisian quagmires against Albigenses, Stedingers, and other heretics plunging about in blood and fire, repenting, at idle times, and paying their passage through, purgatory with large slices of ill-gotten gains placed in the ever-extended dead-hand of the Church; acting, on the whole, according to their kind, and so getting themselves civilized or exterminated, it matters little which.
Gathering round the blazing pine-logs, they recount to one another in low voices the ancient legends of dead and gone heroes, and listening to the yell of the storm-wind round their huts, they still fancy they hear the wild war-cries of the Valkyries rushing past air full gallop on their coal-black steeds, with their long hair floating behind them.
If the picture is political, they murmur war-cries to one another. If the film suggests what some of the neighbors have been doing, they can regale each other with the richest sewing society report. The people in the motion picture audience total about two hundred, any time, but they come in groups of two or three at no specified hour.
Scarce had they entered the verge of the orchards when a din of drums and trumpets, mingled with war-cries, was heard from the suburbs, and a legion of Moorish warriors on foot poured forth. They were led on by the prince Cid Hiaya. He saw the imminent danger of the city should the Christians gain possession of the orchards.
The worthy count de Cabra was yet entangled with his cavalry among the water-courses of the valley when he heard the war-cries of the Moors and saw their army rushing over the bridge. He recognized Boabdil himself, by his splendid armor, the magnificent caparison of his steed, and the brilliant guard which surrounded him.
They held the lances straight out until the signal came, then lowering the lances, they rushed forward amid a cloud of dust with loud war-cries and the fight became a furious scuffle.
Some gnashed their teeth and frothed at the lips; beating their breasts with clenched fists, and yelling their native war-cries, until their voices echoed far over the waters! To all these demonstrations the crew of the Pandora paid no heed except that two sentries instead of one were placed over the hatchway where the male portion of the slaves were confined.
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