Smyrna times., 1859-03-31
. ORIGINAL AND SELECTED.
UrHe" far Tie Smyrna Times.
Z A MILIAR SKETCHES
UNCLE EBE'S TRADITION


The fire, high piled upon the hearth. wa
blazing cheerIy. The dark, dan stove had no
then been introduced into my fathers slltpo
room.
VITA light hearts and merry faces. we ba,
gathered in the family circle. and sat ,ron,,
Inc glowing fire, regardless of the wintry wind,
that howlcd mourntuily without.
Uncle Ebe sat in his easy chair, directly be.
tore the fire, which rendered 10 his time worn
cheeAs pleasing glow. His natural charac-
'erIstcs' good nature and beneyolencc, were
visible throughout every feature Of his face.
and audible in his every word and action.
MY brother and had been reading " Indian
Wars and were induIging in bitter sarcasm
against the Indians for their cruoltlcs to the
whites
Uncle Ebe seemed suddenly to arouse from
revere, and turning toward where we sat. he
reminded us that perhaps the Indians were pro.
'oked to the cruel acts that we were condemn.
In%' and that the white men deserved at least
part OF the censure. HIS countenlnce beam.
eu with Joy as he spoke of the long friendly in
tercourae of William Penn with the Indians
and deep emotions of regret manifested them.
selves, as he portrayed various instances of
maltreatment Of them by the early settlers of
this country. Then, with degree of anima-
ton seldom attained by him at that period of
his life, he proceeded:
What was ever more cruel than the slauoh.
ter of the Pequots by the Massachusetts and
Connecticut soldiers They approached their
camp IN the dead of night when the Indians
were buried in sleep. A faithful dog Ohe In
Ians' friend and companion) gave the alarm.
and the sentinel cried out Wanur! ITnDuYr .
English) but before they could awake and
stand IN their defence. the English were in
-helr midst and the havoc Of death was begun. !
Here opened a scene of ndiscriminate bu,cherv
Ind carnage, amidst the explosion of firearms.
he shrleks of the wounded, and the rroans of
he dying, too horrible to be conceived of or
described. More than six hundred Indians fell
sacrifice in this terrible carnage, and Law
'Hed IN lndlscrlmlnate heaps Of slaughter, or
5asping IN the agonies of death. The saupb-
er OF men, women and children was continued
Ill the entire Pequot nation was exlerminated. +
Except Sassacus, the chief, and Oneko. his bro.
her; they fled to the Mohawks. Sassacus
vas slain shortly after, and Oneko was left. the
nly survivor and representative of a once nu.
nerous and powerful nation. Imagine the
ceilings OF this prince of royal blood-driven
rom his country-his countrymen slain, snd he
ePendlng upon the hospitality of neighbor-
ng tribe for protection Go with him. after
ears of unmitigated torture of mind, to take a
asst farewell of the land of his fathers. the
ome of his youth! Observe for moment the
nroads of sorrow, and the lines of premature
Id age delVed in his countenance! Conscious
I his iast-approaching end, he determines to
tand, once more, upon his mothers grave, and
wander over his beloved hunting ground! Un.
uarded and alone, he starts on the iourney.-
Days of wearisome travel at length brings him
o the dearly loved spot. The noble river.
lanhadoes, flows as it did in former dsvs-
but, alas! the pale-faces have cut down the
1rests, his hunting grounds, and mercIessIy
o"00" uP"" tlc graves OF MS ancestors. Be-
ng familiar with every turn of the river, be .
Don arrives at the hallowed spot where his
eloved Alpharetta was buried in the bloom of
er youth. Stopping for a moment. he dropped
silent tear, and his mind recaught the pang
hat stung him when the sudden crack and
laze of the lirelock, in the hands of the pale
ice, broke his first love reverie and laid her ,
leess at his feet. A few steps more brought {
i'm to the mound of his mothers grave, once
0 green and we'll cared for. now hardly dis
ernable on account of the English transgres-
lons' Falling PROSTATE upon the ground, he
artially gave vent to his emotions but his an.
nsh was too deep for words 10 express. Some.