My husband's mother's family has sung this song at family gatherings ever since he was a little boy. I know his mother and her siblings learned it from their sweet mother. Music was very important to them. We sang it to our children and they sing it to our grandchildren. Our oldest daughter has compiled a family song book with songs from our heritage and this song is included. The lyrics here are just a little different from the ones we sing, but I actually like the last few words from one of those lyrics here better, so will be changing ours to this one below. "Than Bright Sky provado obey?" were the original words the family sings. (In my search to understand the word provado I learned it means proven.)

THE CHIEFTAIN'S DAUGHTER

One autumn as evening was spreading
Its pinions of darkness around,
In numbers the Indians came trav’ling
Approaching the Niagara Falls.

Their law of tradition had taught them
That one of their tribe ev’ry year
By lot should be chosen and brought there
To cast down the falls without fear.

The Chieftain had only one daughter.
He loved her as loved he his life.
Possessing the bravery he taught her,
She feared not though casting her lot.

They thought that surely the Chieftain
Would have them cast lots o'er once more.
But nothing unjust would he teach them.
He left them and walked up the shore.

A coffin canoe and a paddle
Lay waiting for her to step in.
Farewell to her pony and saddle.
Long farewell to forest and kin.

The clouds gave ‘way to the moonbeams
To guide her barque down the swift stream,
And just as the moonbeams were bright’ning
She fearlessly entered the stream.

See how he loveth his daughter
For he taketh a seat by her side.
See how, down the dark waters
More rapid and fiercely they glide.

Then a shout from the shore of the river
Burst forth in a pitiful cry
From a Mother that made all hearts quiver
For her Chieftain and daughter, Bright Sky.

Down, down still nearer the thunder
That deafened both Chieftain and child.
See now, how they've gone under
Beneath where the rapids rage wild.


Is the love of a father more tender
In the race of the white man today?
Or the faith of a daugh--ter stronger
Than Bright Sky’s bravado that day?