Page:Poems by Frances Fuller Victor.djvu/54

 About her humble garden sweet

With homeward thoughts and homeward talk;

They drew the little restless feet

Of her girl-babe, who crowed and played,

Delighted with the show they made."

"And then? What then?" "They passed to where

Columbia's waters foam and flow,

And parted company. I spare

The sickening tale. Enough to know

They with their husbands went among

The restless wild men of the plains,

And taught that love returned for wrong

Will bring reward in priceless gains;

Taught, with alternate hopes and fears,

Their Christian faith for ten long years.

"Then came the end. The wild men tired

Of straining after thoughts too high

For their low level, and conspired

To blot all out, and all deny.

Narcissa Whitman fell. She whom

I told you of, whose poppies grew,

And pleased her baby with their bloom,

Fell drenched in blood—her husband, too.

Wolves tore her dainty flesh, and bare

Her bones lay, in her long fair hair."

48