Came a deadly fear upon them! 'We are lost,' they cried in terror, For a league behind them, followed Such a host of men or devils That they could not hope to conquer. 'We are lost,' they moaned, 'Their number Is the number of the needles On the redwoods in the forest; And they follow as the foxes Follow rabbits in the open.' 'We shall die, oh, my beloved,' Said the Chieftain to the maiden. 'And die gladly,' said the maiden, 'If our people may not perish. As I sat beneath the buckeye At my mortar, grinding acorns, Fairy butterflies came to me, Fluttered round my head and told me That an enemy was coming; And I warned you, oh, my lover.' 'Aye, you did, my best beloved.' 'And they promised, oh, my lover, That our God would save our people Should I offer up my spirit As a sacrifice before Him.' And the young Chief spoke, and answered, 'Life without you would be empty; Let my spirit travel with you Through the spaces of the heavens, To the upper world of spirits.' 'It shall be as you have spoken,' Said the maiden to her lover, 'And I know that God will answer With a mighty sign from heaven. Stoop, and bow your head, my lover, That my face may turn to heaven. Mighty Father, save my people, Take my spirit and my lover's To the spirit land of lovers; Lift your hand and strike the mountain! Cut a chasm wide, between us And the wicked ones who follow; Save my people, oh, my Father, Strike the mountain! Strike the mountain!' Came a rumble in the distance, Nearer, louder, terrifying! God had heard her prayer, and lifted Up his hand to strike the mountain. When the mighty blow descended With the crash of many thunders, All the mountains rocked and trembled, Rose and fell, and swayed and shuddered; And across the Coast Range Mountains Yawned a chasm, hot and smoking; Into it careened the hillsides; Mountains swooned and fell into it. Through it, as a giant sluiceway, Rushed the roaring, boiling waters Of the lake, in tumbling tumult, Flooding all the bayside lowlands, Racing through the Golden Gateway In a cataract stupendous. Saint Helena burst its crater With a blast that leveled forests, And the falling sand and cinders Buried deep the fallen giants, To be petrified to agate. Through the steam and sulphurous vapors, Flashed the lightning on the mountains, And the din of quake and thunder Beat the air until it quivered.