And his voice loud and shrill, as if blown from a reed,—

“Pull, pull in your lassos, and bridle to steed,

And speed, if ever for life you would speed;

And ride for your lives, for your lives you must ride,

For the plain is aflame, the prairie on fire,

And feet of wild horses, hard flying before

I hear like a sea breaking hard on the shore;

While the buffalo come like the surge of the sea,

Driven far by the flame, driving fast on us three

As a hurricane comes, crushing palms in his ire.”