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
