The Ottawa free trader. [volume] (Ottawa, Ill.) 1843-1916, 1877-11-10
Thus with dcligh! We lingeT 10 survey
The promised JOYS OF hic's unmeasured way;
Thus from atar each dim discovered scene
More pleasing seems than all the past hath Occh
And every form that fancy can repair
IrnIn dirk nhllAinn nlnMs NlNlnEA tnrrc.

And | wonder if shall go back no more only III
memory to those careless, happy childhood days
Hope comes, and in the coming we drift on
We reach the banks of Indian Creek. The old
mill still stands on its bank. lis messy sides lean
over the drifting tide. Birds fit in and out from
It's wheels, the long shadows fall on the stream,
and the milcr's song is no longer heard. Further
up from Tie banks u tall shaft OF white marble
marks the resting place of the murdered settlers.
Fitting mark for their quiet rest. \ figure or
statue rises from lis top, sentinel, we might
think for the quiet dead. The names of the dead
and the date of the massacre MAY 20, 1888 are
inscribed thereon. Their cabin is gone-brave
men and women murdered and thrown in one
common grave. Just here occurs the stanza in
a piece written by visitor to this spot;
Ihave threaded myself these Indian paths,
Where strobe full many brave.
And seen where the murdered settlers mere
Sleep many In one lone grave.
Hard by now Is tangled pass
That leads TO q spot 80 lone,
Where fifteen slecp-the aged and youGr,
Father. mother and n;
The bridegroom and his promised bride,
scalped and tomahawked side by side
Some little incidents or history of these scenes,
from an old man, Henry Baker, belcve,) pass
on the rest Of our ride in this direction, but are
of little moment. Stumps and trees, brown nuts
falling in the autumn sunshine, thorn apples,
squirrels and all the beauty of the woods are seen
rs We pass along. Turn our horse Topsy home
wardS-soon ut Rugcr's corner; and just here
think OF a few weeks gone by, of a Sunday school,
superintendent, teachers and children, enjoying
pleasantly the passing hours. Pass out from this
scene with the words of the hymn falling softly
on my ear, Beautiful River" and the sermon
further on and a visit to this spot, where the new
church stands proudly now While my compan.
ions viewing this place cross the road, lift the
latch and gate swings back on its rusty hinges
In this grave Charley, the beloved of the house
hold, sleeps-a fallen soldier and a son, sleeping
heart. Here, also, lies a brother and an aged
grandmother the flowers blooming all around
their quiet beds. On the stone of this aged pill
grim is inscribed Bulwer's beautiful poem:
There IL no death. the stars 60 down
To rise upon falrcr shore,
And bright In heavens jeSeed crown
They shine f0rcvermore.
Aud ever near. though unseen
The dear immortal spirits tread;
For all the bOundless universe,
To life there Is no dead.
From these low beds and creeping flowers they
raiments fresh and fair, the sounds Of divine
melody about thcia, and they shall slumber nc
more The universal choruses shall rise and
float DER the low mounds the words of life fall
ing near as the dews Of Sharon to the thirsty
soul. But they are asleep to the sounds; the
gushing music and the words Of life to them fall
quietly; they slumber on. Above the long shad
ows and the quiet mounds voice is speaking
ever, in that dviner melody, those sweetcr words:
They are resting swccter far swcetcr to the soul
released from the burden that lies about our daily
paths Their graves are green; and the new
church folds its mantle quietly here. We turn
away, wondering if the coming years will cradle
to rest beneath its roof voices sweet voices or tn,
bride pass beneath its portals. FAREWELL church
farewell, graves! The years crowd on thick and
fast. We reach our home just rs the sun is set
ting, and Think
A. when ON ocean sink the orb of DAY.
Long DER the waves r,>plendent shadows play.