FRANCOIS SALWAY

Among the pine hills of the Sioux land,
Among the chiefs of the Corn Creek band,—
Brave and thoughtful and quiet alway
Lived the strong man, Francois Salway.

Sitting there at his cabin door
With his children three or four.
And his faithful, old-time squaw——
His by the Sioux and the Saxon law—
Often he talked as the sun sank low
Of the old trapping times of long ago.

His father was a coureur des prairies,—
His mother was a woman of the Shoshoni.
From the South Pass to Montreal,
From Saint Louis to Old Fort Hall
By bateau, pony and on his back
He carried the bison and beaver pack.
Seven hundred pounds the boatmen say
He bore on his shoulders broad one day.
Once with his furs he swam alone
The foaming flood of the Yellowstone.

In his log cabin built by his own hand
Chief among chiefs of the Corn Creek band
Quiet and brave and thoughtful alway
Lived the strong man, Francois Salway.



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