The spirit of democracy. [volume] (Woodsfield, Ohio) 1844-1994, 1846-02-14
AN INDIAN BURIAL.

Ore very line morning, a few weeks
ago, we found ourselves at the break of
day mt the brow OF the hill on Stone
street. just beyond the Gas Works,
With our best gun and dog, intent upon
slaughtering few brace of woolcock.
aud in (urtherance of that intent pro.
ceeded to beat down the open woods
uniii we came to the creek. The game
was scarce. but we pursued our search
in the direction of the Choctaw camp,
lntendmg to breakfast there and take a
fir start westward with the sun. We
kept on until we came within a few
yards OF the encanpment. when in the
distance we observed advancing, a fig,
nre wrapped in blanket and carrying
II burden. The noise of stick break
ing beneath our feet caused it TO stop
and look up, and we saw that it was an
milan woman bearing child. her hair
hanging in disheveled masses around
her shoulders, and her face depic ting
the most intense mental anguish. An
other moment she advanced in the un-
lergrowth. Slealthiiv we fol owed her
rs she made n circuit of the woods and
regained the path we had just quilted,
which she pursued until she stopped at
the side of a hill of gentle declvity, the
base Of which was bathed by limpid
spring gushing from its side in little
torrent. From behind the friendly
shelter OF fallen pine tree, we watch.
el her movements, and saw her unstrap
from her back the child, AMI lay it on
the grass, its little innocent flce turned
towards the morning sun. A glance
told us the child was dead, and we
then knew " that its mothers erranI to
The spot was its burial. The poor
mother! We saw her with sharp piece
o(pine turn up the fresh earth on the
hill 81 lie until she had scooped ont
cavity large enough for the last resting
place for the child; she raised it up in
aer arms and laid it in its tomb, us ten.
ielly as if the babe still lived, her face
r-are>s, bnt oh, what anguish expires
sel is lneam 'nis! She placed all
the chII's little trinkets by his side.
md heaped the fresh earth and leaves
npon it. She paused when the task
WIS completed. Ii was for moment.
She sprlng to her feet, dartcd look to
the spot where she had placed her child,
wildly she turned to the grave, uttered
u shrek which seemed as ii her very
soul burst forth with it, !eIl; if Ife-
less, her face pressed close to the
ground as il she sought 10 Kiss it even
through the cold soil. We knew tbs.
lniian character, an we tuIn'd away
without saying word. We continued
our hunt. The evening saw US return
ing home, and we bethou Iht ourselves
To pass the spot where we had witness
Sed the occurrence Of the morning. A
Wnnent's travel placed US there, and
we saw by the new-nlde grave the
watchful mother sitting as motionless
rs one carved ont ofstone. We spoke
ii kind word; it was unheed"d; and We
placed hand on her shoulder. She
turned her head and her sad gaze mel
ur eyes; we pointed to the grave and
lnen to Heaven. A tear stole down
the mothers cheeks. ana we turned
away; ours too, were moistened, but
they were not moistened for the child,
there Was nothing to regret for it, for
those whom the gods love die young.
The flowers fall from their hands un.
uilhered; their eyes close IN the sun
silile they go down to the grave as if
it were an altar, in their hour of hope
and of beauty. They are spared lite's
greatest agony, that Of endurance, ami
endurance without expectation. Our
tears were for the poor Indian woman.
Mobile Herald.