The Camden weekly journal. [volume] (Camden, South-Carolina) 1853-1861, 1853-09-06
Mtsfellaneons.
From the Southern Christian Adrocate.
Rides about Camden, No. 8.
THE INDIAN MOUND.

the Barbarians, to the wise and 10 the unwiSe, y
then are we emphatically, debtors to the In
dian. To him, however, we have given, in lieu
of his broad acres and wide hunting. grounds,
in most cases, but treache:y. wounds, and
death. Even the plausible purchases of Penn,
were only so many practices of duplcity and
fr:ud-iair acres for paltry beads and tinsel-
gew gaws and even with the few comforts Of
civilization, there has gone with them, the
fire water" making the savage demon. True,
the missionary has, in some few detached III.
stances, carried him the Gospel of peace, (as
an account of the late visit of Bishop Capers
to the Cherokees, gives beautiful evidence y
but the numbers Of Christian converts are yet 4,
comparatively few, the interests Of christians,
the labors of ministers, except in some few
noble instances, anguid and unenergetic. Un-
til churches and schools dot all that Indian
Territory" 10 which they have been wooed b>
their rough suitor, "Uncle Sam" until call
their children have been taught of God, and,
great the peace Of their children our debt 10
them remains uncancelled. What missionary
zeal is in me, must confess goes out. not en-
clusively, but very largely, for the Indian.
One Of the few foot prints he has left on our
land, once his, will to-day in one ride poin;
out to you, at the Boat landing" from which
place we have distinct view of It, and while
under the shade Of these huge water-oaks, get
you to lend an ear to legend concerning that
isolated, mysterious, tumultuous, the ludan
mound" 1t may enhance Your christian in
terest in him, who sees God in clouds, Or
hears him in the winds, the poor Indian"
LEGEND OF THE INDIAN MOUND
The time had come, when for the Forest
ranger, the Aeet-footed Wateree, the laud had
become too strait. The "Pae faces" had,
year By year, continued to throw their daIk
shadows, more and more over his hunting
grounds. The eye of the white man fastened
upon his fishing place, peerrd in upon his hun.
ting paths, and followed up his trails. That
eye, with its cold, steady stare, wi;hered and
scathed him. He would away from its baleiul
influence. He would not wait to be driven,
as dumb beast. The land was still large and
free. He would 60 where the foot of the
stranger never comes to the bnundless forests
and limitess prairies of the far far West, where
none are but the Indian and the Great Spirit.
This was the resolve of the young chief Oiieu
ska. but not such that Of his father the old
chief Attawulla. No, said the old man, here
let me stay; | cannot leave my native woods,
| Cannot leave my fathers graves This ma
tive air is my iife.springs, my very being. |
will breathe none other; no, rather let me
cease to breathe. Wait my SON, my people,
for that time; it'can't be long; then bury me
in that sacred mound where sleep my loved
passed into the spirit land: there leave me,
ho.a krr,- ho, opI aln "a ith m a
and leave me there, to mount uP, like the Ell
gle, to the grea: hunting grounds above, the
sun and moon of which, the white man shall
behold not, nor where his guns fire shall be
heard, nor his 6re-water ever come. When
thece old limbs made young, for the green corn
dance, shall be found active as a young war.
rior's in the combat. and where the old chief
will keep places in the ring, for his squaw and
papoose when they come.
The young chief turned his head away from
the far west, though his heart went there. His
feet stood STILL He could not 60 and leave
his aged sire to the ravages Of the wild beast
or more cruel white man; and yet, his spirit
pined within him, for the new hunting grounds
and for his promised squaw, the brisht.eyed
EuIura. that had gone with her chetan faith
er and his tribe, to those better lands for the
range of the stately elk and bounding deer
and where the foot Of the white man had never
trod.
The old chief Altawula saw, that day by
day, the bowstring of that young spirit grew
slack, that his bright eye waxed dim, and his
firm step falrered, and his strong arm hung pow
eress, by his side. cahnot, cannot 60, exclaitn'
ed he, mentally; but shall the young heart Ian.
guisb, and the right arm lose its cunning, for
that2 He shall go. though may not My
fathers graves rivet me- As does the vine, yon
Oak that the gale vainly endeavors to uproot
and scatter, far and wide, upon the land. The
old chief bedecked himself in his richest skins,
and with his finest feathers. and one Indian.
summer.eve, as the sun declined in mellowed
glory, he with it, went to rest.
Then, after diigent search had been made
for him, in many PLACES, there, the next day,
came the young chief Olieuska, and finding
him, as he thought, asleep, for the sleep of
age is like nfancy's, any where and at any
moment, he began, as is wont among these
simple children of nature, to rock the cradle
of declining age" TO so"the the slumber OF
the old mans second childhood, with a Wild
wood nursery-lullaby. One that his own moth
er had put him oft to sleep by, when, pick
inniny, slung over her kind shoulder, or strap
ped on to her loving side, or suspended IN MS
grapevine cradle she sung by his side while
she shucked the young ears of corn and drew
them from their silky bed to prepare them tor
food for the hunters from the chase. The God