While traveling this land
From border to border
And from sea to sea
There have a few occasions
To leave the beaten path
And to find the peace and quiet
That's good for thought
And just walking through a trackless forest
Or exploring ruins
Of the earliest settlers
Or walking along a creekbed
Hoping to find a relic
Such as a tomahawk an axe
Or even an arrowhead
Left by a race of long
Since vanished Indians
There's a great thrill
And it's a wonderful feeling
To find a flint arrowhead
Over fields of new turned sod
And in communion with my God
I walked alone
In a furrow bed
I found an arrowhead
Chiseled from stone
I don't know how long ago
Some redman drew his bow
On its last flight
Or did he drop it here
Afraid white men were near
To attack at night
I do know this one thing
Beyond all questioning
It was made to kill
And proof of a master trade
Is in this arrowhead he made
Fashioned with skill
That I inherited this ground
Is denied by this stone I've found
But when and by who
Come join me in my tracks
Then let's stop and look back
To the vale and through
In love and peace we'll see
The shadows and the trees
And voices too
But quietly slowly tread
This home of the forgotten dead
Whose bones are dust
I'm proud that their craftsmen's skill
Survives the ages still
Left in my trust