Poem composed by King Rogbert when he and his hunting party were cast off their horses by a burning visage of a black elk.

What mortal man dare to stand

In the presence of the Black Elk?

What fire has he

That the Elk does not envelop?

With horns like darkened ivory

And eyes of burning suns

With hooves that singe against the dirt

And breath that turns to steam

Aye the man that stands would be mortal

For not long shall he stand in the presence

Of the Black Elk!