The Pulaski citizen. [volume] (Pulaski, Tenn.) 1866-current, 1873-10-23
Fishing with an Indian.
= Civilization a Failure


Once eUpon time the editor of the
Cimarron News went afishing and thus
narrates his experience Arriving late
in the evening in the Rayado canyon, a
sequestered spot on the banks of the
stream was selected and the camp
pitched beneath the sombre shades of
the tall pines. A good sleep and quiet
night in the woods was anticipated by
all, but Just then the trouble commen-
ced. Unthought of dangers chased
sleep from the eyes and slumber from
the .eyelids. A large band of Apaches
were eneamped at a stones throw on
the opposite side of the river. A party
OF Navaioes had arrived dnring the day
ON visit, and the Apaches were giving
their noble guests hearty welcome and
royal entertainment. A grand pow
WOW was under full headway these
sons of the forest were exchanging as
surances of mutual respect aad reonsit-
Grafton. The overture was volley Of
firearms dance was then institated.
following which the cries of wild birds
and beasts were initiated IN countless
numbers and in every variety of voice.
This programme was repeated at vari-
GUS times throughout the night, the In
terludes being supplied by singing and
chanting. That sort of carousal was
not at all conducive to sleep; imagina-
ton suggested that these fellows might
enjoy banquet of trout-fishers, and,
perhaps, drink toasts over our mortal
remains as to our excellence as food.
After many coniectures as to their OBJ
iects, sleep came, a fitful sleep, full of
wild dreams, all the, bloody. and har-
rowing stories told us in youth of saw
ages making their victims run the gaunt-
let, and whipping them through on the
keen jump, of afterward scaIping them.
slinning them alive and roasting them
on the Goals trooped through the mind.
A thousand painted warriors danced
around the camp with scalping knives,
ready for the onslaught. Thus passed
the night, "f full of dismal terror. - till
morning broke. The bright sun liglt.
ing up the dark ravines, ard the blue
smoke cnrling up from the camp of the
peaceful and innocent Indians reas-
sured us and dispelled the delusive fan
cies of the night After breakfast. all
hands prepared for the raid on the fin
ny tribe. Individually. we were fitted
out with an elegant rod, a new. strong
line and gaudy fly, tempting bait to a
hungry trout. Selecting a shaded pool
we dropped IN our hook and waited pa
tiently for a bite. In about an hour we
came to the conclusion that the trout
was othungry, when an old Apache slid
gently down the bank and looked on.
There. seemed to be a derisive smile
lurking in the corners of his mouth
presently he borrowed a pin and crooked
it in the shape of hook, fastened it to
a twine string, picked up dry stick for
a rod and impaled grasshopper leg
for bait. He dropped that concern in
beside out fashy outfit, and pulled out
seven trout, aud smiled quietly, while
we sat looking on. We left that Indian
in disgust, We fished all along the
creek, clambered over powders, tore
our clothes, got our fishing tackle tan
gled in the underbrush, INDUCED in
the expletives In common use in the
country, and caught one fish, an inno-
cent looking little thing, which, in
spiritof Kindness, we slipped back in
the water. Setting the hook, we went
to camp, where weprobably experienced
an elevation of spirits; at least things
wore a more cheerful aspect. The
solid trees, even, took some lively
turns and the rocks were not so monot-
onous. In searching for the hook, we
walked directly into the creek. Curl
GUS country this, where the creeks are
bullion the edges, and the trees dance
the laneers. All possibly owing to the
volcanic origin of the Rayado canyo,..
We never found that hook and line an
Apache is, undoubtedly, that much
wealthier, and we are just as happy.