'Twas in the lone, uncultured wilds
Of far Assiniboia, Ere commerce took its giant stride
From east to western sea. From grasp of lordly tyranny
Came brave and sturdy band; The sons of sires who framed the old,
To build the fair, new land.

The red men tracked the hunter's path
Through miles of gloomy wood; And now, with whoop and fiendish yell,
Before their victim stood. With rifle shot he kept his ground,
And held the foe at bay; Yet, what avail his single strength!
Ten times his number they.

He leaped upon a rocky ledge
Which overhung the wave; Far kindlier fate than scalping-knife,
The risk of watery grave. He glanced towards his precious haven
Upon its patch of green; He saw his loved ones by the door,
But—the river rolled between.

Another saw; love prompted wit;
Upon the grassy floor She laid her babe, then fleetly sought
The wherry by the shore. With strong, young arm she plied the oar;
The waters twirl and toss; 'Tis vain! beneath that cataract
No human power may cross.

List! through the noisome, seething surge,
A voice of hope and cheer: "Leap in, and swim adown the stream,
I'll meet you—never fear!" The current bears the slight skiff on,
The Indians' arrows fly, But the huntsman's form is seen no more
Against that lurid sky.

For he hath plunged into the foam
And, borne upon the tide, Is now beyond all chance of harm,
His brave wife by his side. Saved by that faith-inspiring Love
Which glorifies the hearth; Which amply fills with choice-drawn wealth,
And crowns the loves of earth.