New Orleans daily crescent. [volume] ([New Orleans, La.]) 1851-1866, 1854-06-17
The Grave in the Wilderness


You will waken and find it past
| The Grave in the Wilderness,
| .. IEssrp
What field Of romance there is in the West
Like its own beautiful prairies, it spreads before
| the traveller, inviting him to pluck the many
colored flowers that bloom around him The
story Of the red man of the forest and plain his
wrongs, his resentments, and his inevitably
| approaching fate, are calculated to call UP at
once the tear of pity and the blush of shame.
Though from the nature of things it seems or
dained that he should pass away. yet such is a
hard fate. His very nature, wild, romantic
and adverse to restraint, renders it impossible
that he should ever assimilate himself to the
| manners and laws of civilized life; and as man
kind are still toiling up from the night of bar
barism and superstition to the broad noon light
| OF enlightment, the poor Indian can but fade
away before the coming day.
The yalor of King Philip of Pokanoket, the
eloquence of Red Jacket, the indomitable re-
| slstance of Teeumseh, the heart burning wrongs
OF Osceola, the manly grief of Logan, the calm
patience Of the Fox Patriarch, and the virtues
OF Pocahontas, have been themes of story and
song; but how many thousands more, whose
hearts clung as fondly to their hearth stones
and fathers graves. have gone down into the
shades Of oblivion, with no pen to perpetuate
S AA'SHiSA VI eiSIi iuESlsS VI lutlI ldle! III
IS upon this class Of aboriginal inhabitants that
the exeerations of cruel world have been
heaped; to these have the epithets, merciless,
revengeful, and bloodthirsty, been applied by
their civilized foes scarce less tiger-ike than
they. When they have seen their homes passing
by fraud or violence into the hands Of their pale
faced neighhors, when they saw the whites be-
coming powerful people, themselves fading
| away before his approach-becoming yearly
weaker and weaker-destined to total extinc-
ton, hope sometimes yielded to desperation,
| and, IN the wild frenzy of their exctable ma
ture, they committed excesSes which were deem
ened in spirit and effect by the vengeance and
resentment of the whites
10 speak of conquest between our pioneer
fathers and the sons of the forest is but to relate
an old story. To point to the rude mounds now
leveled by the wheels of Time, where some vic
tim OF strife was hastily laid by yta4s Comrades,
is but to repeat every day scenes in the early
history of the West.
Long years ago, when every foot of the West
ern frontier was disputed ground, Capt Ward
lett his home of peace and security in the East
to endure the hardships and share the dangers
OF frontier life. taking with him his wife and
several small children. He was accompanied
Dy widowed sister and her son, a noble youth
OF nineteen. The convenience of luxuriously
furnished room IN a majestic steamer, plowing
her way through the ripping wayelets laying
her sides, was then unknown. Our pioneers en-
barked in a square butt boat, some eight or ten
feet broad by fifty in length. They had on board
about dozen horses, besides other stock, and
with the man engaged to work the boat there
were nearly dozen persons. Slowly and Wea-
rily they drifted down the broad and beautiful
ONO, keeping in the middle of the stream, as
well to ENJOY the current. as to avoid danger
from the parties of 1nlians which might be
proving along the shore Day after day
dawned and closed upon them, and they had
passed the great border battle-ground, where
wild, undisciplined valor was struggling to re-
sist the approach of usurpation End civilization.
They no longer feared the deadly missiles from
the shores, nor started at every sound that came
to their ears, as at the footsteps of an unseen
toe sense of security naturally brings with
t relaxation of vigilance and a diminution of
caution.
Just at the close of a beautiful day the row
ers, weary of labor, had ceased, and the boat
was drifting down the current, when Ward
called to his pilot:
&C Rogers, suppose we put in this side of that
point yonder, fisten our boat to one of those
trees, and put up for the night
1t looks like good place. replied Rogers,
E" and am in favor of stopping besides, hear
some wild turkeys, and would like to have one
for breakfast "
The boat turned toward the point in question,
the children were all animation at the idea of
stretching their cramped and weared limbs on
the shore, the women were already getting out
their provisions aud making preparations for
supper They We're within fifty yards of the
shore, when their attention was arrested by the
cracking of stick. The Captain remarked that
instead OF turkey they might have n supper on
venison. No, shouted Rogers, who was steer
ing the boat, Its Indians. Row for your lives |
or we are all dead ~ With all haste the boat
was put about, but before it was headed toward |
the mlddie of the stream, the crash of hundred
rifles broke upon the stiffness Of those mighty |
solitudes, and q shower OF balls swept around |
the little boat. The nephew of the Captain
sprang up, seized his rifle and fired at the fore
most Indian, who from his dress appeared to be
the leader Of the band. The Indian fell, and
the young man Mt the same moment The cool
and intrepid eXertions of the oarsmen soon placed
them beyond the reach ofdanger; as they knew
1t to be only hunting party, they were aware
that they were destitute of canoes and did not
fear pursuit; still their condition was depor1-
BILE one Many of their horses were killed. 9th
ers we're wounded and plunged fearfully; one
child, severely wounded, lay in the boat, his
hend supported by his mother, while the Grim
sou current OF life flowed rapidly from his bosom
he whispered few words Of encouragement and
to his mother, breathed prayer
commanding his spirit to heaven, and expired.
Night thickened around them, Silently they
sought the shore, and in silence partook OF their
humble repast, and in sorrow prepared the last
resting place of the dead. No White.robed |
priest stood beside that lonely grave to utter
a prayer over the departed, but the heart bro
ken mother knelt beside the remains of her
only child and placing her hand above that
heart, now stifed for ever, breathed such o
prayer as only soul crushed by sorrow still |
relying on Heaven can utter Manly cheeks |
We're wet within that little group, aud, from
eyes unused to weep, the tear of pity flowed
In the morning Rogers assisted the mother in
placing rough stone at the head of the grave,
and the little band of adventures. saddened by |