Western Reserve chronicle. [volume] (Warren, Ohio) 1855-1921, 1871-01-11
An Indian Village,

pIdLlAe tuIOuBn hot summers sun,
and suddenly discovers one nestled .
under the broad shade trees, beside a .
clear running stream, in a green val T.
ley. How pleasant the grass then Z
looks how refreshing he bright wa I
teTs, and how cosy the tall lodges, ]
with their shaded verandRhs Of thick
ly inteTWoyen bOughs.
All day long we had tOiled over the
scorching plain, through clouds Of
grasshOppers that often struck US in
the face with sufficient force to make
the skin smart for several minutes.
Once we had seen mirage Of a beau
tiful lake, fringed with trees and sur
rounded by green pastures, which in
vited as to pursue its fieeting shadows,
but we well knew all about these de-
ceptions by sad experience, and
pushed steadily on over the burning
sands.
I These mirages often deceive the
weary traveller Of the desert. Sud
7 denly the hOrseman sees a river or
lake, apparently, just ahead Of him.
and he rides on and on, hoping to
| come up to it. For hours it lies be-
! fore his eyes, and then in a moment
I disappears, leaving him miles and
I miles out Of his way, and in the midst
I Of desert sands.
Men have ridden all day striving to
reach the beautiful river lust before
I them, and then at night turn back to
Z plOd their weary way to where they
( had started from in the morning.
+ These mirages often lead to death both
man and horse.
/ The mirage we had seen was most
| delightful, representing a clear lake,
I with trees, meadows and villages nest
ling on its shores, but il scarcely
/ equalled the reality Of the scene when,
I late in the afternoon we ascended 8
/ rise in the prairie, and saw below US a
wide stream lined with green trees,
and on its banks a large Indian en-
campment.
The ponies pricked up their ears
and neighed with pleasure as they
smelt the water, and our own delight
was unbounded. We halted for q
moment to admire the beautiful pros
pect. Through the majestic trees,
slanting rays Of the sun shiyered on
I the grass. Far away, winding like a
huge silver-serpent, ran the river,
while near by in shady grove, stood
/ the village-the children at play on
/ the green lawns, not made by hands.
/ The white sides of the teepees shOne
/ in the setting sunlight, and the smoke
[ eurled lazily upward from their dingy
Z tops. Bright ribbons and red grass,
| looking like streamers on a ship, hut-
/ tered from the lOdge-poles, and gaudi-
I ly dressed squaws and warriors walk
I ed about, or sat on the green sod un-
I der the trees. There were maidens,
/ as beautiful as Hiawatha, or as grace
: ful as Minnehaha, wandering, hand
I in hand, along the stream, or listen
ing under the shade Of some wide
/ spreading tree to words Of love, as
I soft and tender as ever were poured
/ into wOman's ear.
Near the village were hundreds Of
/ horses and ponies, with bright festh-
I ers Haunting in their names and tails
as they cropped the rich grass Of the
/ valley.
A group Of noisy children we're
I playing at a game much resembling
/ ten-pins; some boys were shooting at
a mark with arrows, end up the
/ stream several youths were returning
home with rod and line, and fiHe
strings Of speckled trout.
I Scores OF men and women were
I swimming about in the river, now
/ diving, and then dousing each other,
amid screams Of laughter from the by
ISLANDERS on the shore. Here and there
a young Girl darted about like a fish,
i her black hair streaming behind her
I in the water.
I While we looked, the little children
suddenly ceased from play and ran
I into the lodges; mounted men sur
| rounded the herd, and the swimmers
and prOmenaders hastened toward the
village. We had been perceived by
I the villagers, and the unexpected ar
rival Of strange hOrsemen at an Indi-
an eneampment always creates great
excitement. They may be friends,
I but they are more often enemies, 50
I the villagers are always prepared for a
surprise.
Some men were seen running to and
fro with guns and bows, and in q few
minutes, some mounted warriors left
the eneampment and rode toward Us,
going first to the top Of the highest
mound to see il they could discover
other hOrsemen in the rear, or to the
right or left of US.
No sooner did they ascertain there
were but three in the party, than they
rode boldly up and asked Us our bust
ness. I told them who we We're, and
where we were from, upon which
they cordially invited US to the viii
lage.
As we approached, men women and
children poured out Of the encamp-
ment 10 look at the strangers, and
having satisfied their curiosity, the
sports and amusements Of the evening
were renewed.
I asked permission to camp Of no
one, for I needed none, as this was
Gods land, and not owned by yraven-
Gus and dishonest speculatOTs. So
marched right down to the center of
thevillage, and finding a vacant space,
pitched my lodge. IL was not neces-
sary to purchase a town-lot here, for
no one, save Him who owns all, held
real estate.
A few Santee women gathered
about my sQuaws and chatted with
them, anxious to learn the news from
down the river. Seeing that they
were interfering with the unpacking
of the ponies and the erecting Of the
lodge, / unceremOniously ordered
them To be gone, and they went quiet
~ Aha aNs I uc AN4EG " a. 14NAA u NlT AAAl
ponies unpacked and put out to Craze.
Having seen things put in order for
the night, l sauntered out through
the village to learn the news.
L was agreeably surprised, when
learned there was a white man in the
village, who had been sent out to the
Indians as a missionary. All the saw
ages spoke of him as a kind-hearted,
good man, who was great friend Of
the Great Spirit and Of the Big Father
at Washington.
[ made haste to pay my respects to
nv white brother, and found him in
deed a good Christian gentleman. He
had a white wife and child, and he
and they were living comfortably and
pleasantly with these wild children Of
the desert. I talked more than an
hour with the good man; il was 50
delightful to zee and speak with one
OF my own blood and color. When l
left him, promised / would return
the next day and dine with him,
which 1 did. It may sound strange
to hear one talk of dining Outn in an
Indian camp. but 1 can assure my civ I
iliZed readers the meal was none the I
less wholesome or abundant ON ac-
count Of the place in which it was .
served.
When 1 returned to my lodge. ! 4
found il surrounded by a crowd of
dirty squaws and children, who We're
intent upon examining everything we