Save the beautiful dream of my love afar
In the happy land of the tall Hohe [15]--
My beautiful hunter--my brave Chaske."

"Ta-tanka! Ta-tanka!" [33] the hunters cried,
With a joyous shout at the break of dawn;
And darkly lined on the white hill-side,
A herd of bison went marching on
Through the drifted snow like a caravan.
Swift to their ponies the hunters sped,
And dashed away on the hurried chase.
The wild steeds scented the game ahead,
And sprang like hounds to the eager race.
But the brawny bulls in the swarthy van
Turned their polished horns to the charging foes,
And reckless rider and fleet foot-man
Were held at bay in the drifted snows,
While the bellowing herd o'er the hill-tops ran,
Like the frightened beasts of a caravan
On the Sahara's sands when the simoon blows.
Sharp were the twangs of the hunters' bows,
And swift and humming the arrows sped,
Till ten huge bulls on the bloody snows
Lay pierced with arrows and dumb and dead.
But the chief with the flankers had gained the rear,
And flew on the trail of the flying herd.
The shouts of the riders rang loud and clear,
As their frothing steeds to the chase they spurred.
And now like the roar of an avalanche
Rolls the sullen wrath of the maddened bulls.