‘Twas many, many moons ago,
and on a summer morn,
that in a humble wickiup,
a dark-eyed boy was born.
He came during an avalanche
that caused the tribe deep shocks.
His mother was impressed by that,
and named him Falling Rocks.
He was a joy, this little boy,
and grew up tall and strong.
His parents saw much good in him,
and they could not be wrong.
He learned to make his arrows sharp
and how to string his bow;
he also used his tomahawk,
and his flint knife could throw.
As he grew up, he fell in love
with one of the chief’s daughters.
She was a lovely as could be;
her name was Rushing Waters.
The chief said he could marry her,
but first he must perform
some tasks that could be dangerous
and MIGHT cause him great harm.
The first task was not all that hard:
he had to kill a deer,
with just one arrow and his bow;
this was no cause for fear.
So Rushing Waters waited there
just staring at his track.
In three short days her brave returned;
The deer was on his back.
He was allowed two arrows for
the next important task:
he had to bring a bobcat back;
was that too much to ask?
This time he was away two weeks;
his love was in despair,
but Falling Rocks returned one night,
a little worse for wear.
He had the bobcat, but it had
clawed him a time or two.
He hadn’t lost a lot of blood,
and he had made it through.
“Take all the arrows that you want
for this task.” said the chief.
And when the boy heard what was next,
his heart was filled with grief.
He had to kill a grizzly bear
and bring back all four feet.
What kind of crazy task was that?
Why not bring back the meat?
He packed his quiver full of shafts
and set out on his way,
and Rushing Waters waits for him
until this present day.
For Falling Rocks did not return;
we don’t know if he will.
Poor Rushing Waters sobs all day,
and when the night is chill.
Some people whisper as they tell
of screams heard in the night,
and growls that sound like grizzly bear
that cause an awful fright.
Oh, Falling Rocks may yet live on,
still searching for his bear,
and tales of him do not subside;
you hear them everywhere.
He’s not forgotten, and remains
the subject of those talks.
These days we have those signs that say:
“Watch for Falling Rocks”
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