Monmouth weekly herald. [volume] (Freehold, N.J.) 1854-1860, 1858-01-14
.yutuestrrp Story.
From the New York KnickerJocker.
AN INDIAN STORY.
Thrilling story and Romance

IN
There is within the city limits, | be
lieye, of the growing city of St. Paul, in
Minnesota, IA natural cave in the stratum
of white sand which forms the bed Of the
rock upon which the town stands, from
which there issues, at all times, a little
stream ofthe purest cold water, and which
it is said extends an indefinite distance
back under the blHffs. In its primitive
simplicity, it was doubtless, a beautiful
place. opening as it does, in a deep glen,
near the Missippi, and surrounded with
luxuriant verdure. But that rapacity
which EXHIBITS itself. in all walks of life.
has made its appearance here, and the
spot being. private property, o ~rejoices
in a little seven by nine shanty, where
for a consideration you may obtain a
guide, and a tallow candle, and upon re-
turning from your explorations, for aneth-
er consideration, some fiery brandy and
a rank cigar.
Many moons ago-it boots not how
many, for the voice Of the white man has
not been heard very long in this region,
and it may be many as you choose-many
moons ago, when the beautiful lakes OF
Minnesota reflected no human form save
that of the bepainted warrior, or of the
dusky maiden. among the young warri-
ors ;of the Dakota, whose hands were the
surG% in fight, and whose feet were swift.
est Me chase, there was one whom the
Dali loved to call Flying Arrow
He Jas who, while yet a BOY, had Ia
ken es birch canoe and gone down 9n
thetgreat Father of Waters even to the
lan( of Natchez in the far south. At his
lodge door hung more of the scalps of his
enemies than at the door of any of the
young. braves of his tribe. His figure
was tall and vigorous, and his eye was
full Of that calm and steady light which
betokens constancy and courage.
One day in the early spring, when all
the young warriors of the tribe were out
on the chase, Flying Arrow selected for
his quarry a noble buck, who tossed his
head and CALAMITY stretched away to the
eastward, followed swiftly and warily by
the eager hunter. Many times that day
did Flying Arrow approach so near that
his bow was bent for the shot. and once
or twice the arrow had even left the bow,
aimed carefully at the heart, and yet each
time the antlered monarch. with a brief
backward glance, bounded forward un
harmed, every bound nearing the great
Father of Rivers. Flying Arrow was
yexed and disappointed. Never before
had he been SO unsuccessful, and it seem
ed to him that each time the buck leaped
away it Knocked and derided him, and so
he vowed that he would follow it even to
the land of the Ojibway, even to the wig
vans of his enemies.
And so the day wore away, and Flying
Arrow followed ON for many miles, and
just at evening, he stood on the bank Of
the great river, and out in the stream,
fearlessly leaping from fragment to frag-
ment on the slow floating ice which the
spring was carrying southwark, be saw
the quarry which had eluded his pursuit
since early morning. With no thought
of the danger on the stream, or of the
danger on the other side, the warrior
boldly stepped upon the ice and rapidly
followed the flying deer. While he was
yet crossing he saw it reach the shore and
the mouth Of a little glen, and pausing,
looked calmly back for a moment, and
then with q great toss Of its stately head
disappear up the glen. 1t did not lear
now, it seemed either to walk slowly into
the shadow Of the ~oyerhanging trees, OF
to melt into the air like a cloud, and just
when the sun dipped behind the hills.
Warily Flying Arrow approached tht
shore. He was nearing the land of his
enemies, and he knew not what e~xultant
eyes might be watching him, what keen
thirsting for his blood. But no sound
greeted him at the close Of his perilous
passage, save a faint murmur, which seem
ed to- come froma point higher up the
glen, and Of which be was in some doubt
whether it was a human voice or only the
ripping of a little stream that came from
that direction and ran bubbling at his
feet. Steathily he moved up the ravine
setting his feet down with the caution oil
the panther stealing on his prey. By and
by. he could distinguish the tones of a
voice chanting or reciting one Of the sim
pie stories of the Ojibway.
Presently as he rounded a projecting
cornersof rock he saw the dark mouth Of
a cavern in the hill which closed the IA
vine, from which issued the riyulet at his
feet, and not far from it o~utleaning pen.
sively, almost sadly against the steep bank
stood one Of the maidens Of the Oiibway
idly pushing pebbles into the water with
the toe Of her mocassin, and singing soft
" to herself the song or chant which be