While gathering round the camp at close of day,
As the sun shed forth her last but lingering ray,
The war-whoop of the Sioux Indian band
Was heard; “They come,” and all surrounded stand.
A moment more, and then around thee lay,
As the dark smoke had cleared itself away,
The lifeless forms of those in horror slain,
And thou, alas! the only one remain.
No bosom friend, no counselor is near,
To sooth thy troubled breast, or quell thy fear.