The Rhode-Island Republican. [volume] (Newport, R.I.) 1809-1841, 1832-04-10
AN INDIAN TALE.
WRITTEN FOR THE CRAFTSMAN.

AN INDIAN TALE.
WRITTEN FOR THE CRAFTSMAN. {.
Winter was gathering up his cold gar
ments to be in readiness for his journey
at the approach of spring-"WelI, what
has that to do with your storyl" interrupt
ed tall testy old gentleman, to whom ]
had commenced the following formida-
BILE tale.
Why--nothIng in particular ;--only
it is customary to give the seasons, and
-"Well, well, leave all that out and
go on" What not give the month, and
the day, and,- so7fsfth why it is at va
rance with the ground rules Of story-tel-
lers. "No matter say, leave it all OUT
-well-as you please.
There were many sons of the forest
seated around fire in front Of an Indian
lodge. smoking those rudeIy ornamented
pipes, in grave silence, listening to a
''talk" between their king and pale
face from the settlement on the Kappa
hammock. The snow was yet deep.
Thick darkness had fallen around
them, strongly contrasting with the fit
full bursts OF. flame that illumined their
dusky faces.
"Does the red man see that the pale
faces are as leaves in summer, and that
his own tribes are like the scattered deer
upon the hills, scared by the guns of the
white mani" continued Kendall, adopt
ing the metaphorical language Of the In
dian.
"Opechanough does not sleep--his
eyes are wide open," answered the old
chief whom he addressed, gravely. His
stature was upwards Of six feet, and his
form proportionate /; brawny as giant:
powerful as a Hercules. At this time his
features were settled into that dead calm
which true Indian knows too we'll how
to assume.
"The great king was insulted at the
settlement" last moon--has he forgot
ten thatl" persevercd Kendall. The eyes
Of the Indian flashed, but he answered
in the same cold tone.
"The red man neuer forgets."
"Go them" Kendall resumed in bold
er tone, "you are not girl look at your
hatchet, it is white, like the pale face
your knife is dry. The pale faces think
you are girls--let them see that you are
men,"
"Is the white man tired of his squaw!'
asked the grave chief, without moving Il
feature.
"No, ELECTROMAGNETIC must be
saved; and my child, but none slse:-
yes let them perish:-all'--he nuttered
to himself. There was brief silence,
and then he started up and shouted We
hemently.. "King of tho red warriors.
where are your children? where are your
young men their bones whiten the
ground where the "big knife has plaut-
cd his field! Where does Powhattan
wait the call ofthe "Great Spirit"l where
are the graves Of your people 1.-The
plough has gone over them, you cannot
find them p A startling shout, ,Sat cur
died even his blood, answered him, and
the chief bounded upon his feet. He
flung his sinewy arms fercely upward,
and his keen snake-llke eyes glared will,
fury. The fierce contagion seized the
subordinate chiefs, and his cry was an
swered from hundred tongues, cchoing
away far into the forest, like the roar ol
the damned. They leaped up, gesticu-
lating and throwing themselves into ev-
cry variety Of contortion the human
frame would admit of, brandishng their
weapons and yelling like pack Of hun
CRY wolves.
When the frenzy had partially subsi.
ded, Kendall artfully proposed bis scheme
for the destruction Of tho whole colony
determining, however, in his own mind
to confns il to the little settlement on the
Rappahannock. II was listened to with
grave attention by the old chief and hi
confederates, and adopted.
Harvey Kendall was one Of tho hun
dred convicts, who, in tho yeas 1921,
were for various offences transported &c
Virginia, TO assist in planting the new
colony. Shortly after his arrival he be-
came the purchaser Of q wife, from tho
6rss shipmen, oftha, ccmmodiiy,for one