Louisiana capitolian. (Baton Rouge, La.) 1879-1881, 1879-02-22

among the scenes Of years long gone'
and that he fancied himself sitting oy
the fire and telling to his son the sto- ft
RIGS Of hard-fought fights ana inc h
golden days Of his tribe. 7 a
There was one eloquent story that h
gathered from his broken Engllsn' d
he told his son Of the manner IN wmch /
he first met and carried off his mother :. /
Then he spoke Of her. "The fawn' ,
| believe, was the translation Of the
name he gave her, and his eye flaslleu
wildly as he recounted her oeau.es
and his love. Is it not strange ina.
that early love Of the heart snoulu
come back, as it SO often does, wheh
the dim eye is frightening with ). It's
last light. 1t is not strange that
freshest fountains the heart mas ever
known in its wastes, should bubble up
anew when the life blood is growing
: stagnant. 1t is not strange that "
: bright memory should come to- oy-
? ing old man, as the sunshine breaks !.
Il across the hills at the close OF q !.
d stormy day; not that in the light o.
that ray, the very clouds that MADE zoe
e. the day dark, should grow gloriously
- beautiful.
ar "Air. air! can't breathe" moaned
III the dying warrior.
IN His son stalked to the door, threw
10 It wide open, and returned TO M
g statue-like position by the side OF III
IN father. Turning on his side the Oh
1t, man looked out Of the door. IN
ld- moon had risen, and the clouds wer
ost gone. and the stream was brawlln
aloud to the wind, which was eve
ich wilder than in the early evening.
an saw the moonbeams glancing on II
no waterfall before the door, and the o
n.y. man saw it too and smiled. l sa
i'm that smile stealing across his TAG
the and, the Pickering freight perha
and deceived me, but am certain tina. :
the was a bitter smile before it lett
II rugged countenance. Perhaps
cling memory Of a boyhood in the forest :.
was a seat by the brookside with an lnu'
tneh girl, Of a gay, glad heart gave pr
past to memories Of u race that pas
anu away like the dreams Of that CHI
''e0' hood, Of life that was closed ami
o we the scenes unworthy the Panther "
o'''l'' rior Of the Mohawks.
o our At length he spoke; and no"
est u the low musical language OF MS ea'
'a'e'y wears. Icould but understand "
here and there, and the son al
Palh., wards translated for me the last W
'"'' of his father:
IS Oh 81 have no song to sing, my
'e oe Nv life has been like yonder str
flowing along in darkness ana
glad rocks and down steep hill
wind Once. only once, there was a D
e, ana still place in its current, like ye
slowly n,,ce where the stream rests a
Pan in the moonlight, before the door
Old In then falls over the rocks again
short then passes on in the forest
(thtis, sH will tell The Fawn that III
he was fingers yet on the river bank
% alone sometimes we will come to the
as OH and talk with him. The snow i
on her grave by the shore OF tht
= YER lake. will go there and see it
fe Se".' ! 90 to the great council OF OIL
y u, ,a ",p up yonder! The winds moa'
,p'ooA her. The waves dash up abo
Oh years mound. built it high. ! d
u man crave deep-deep-deep."
s'oi"' His voice ceased suddenly,
- '''' law motionless, looking up at Il
'''' '''' covering Of the hut. After son
seeing that he was silent,
he lay Oh over and slept daylight. W
tea some rose, and walking across tn
is quleh found that he was sleeping,
''le ~" him thus. He never spoke
is' "'''' Before that night he had Jo1
swung on ,'
lu,1;+o fathers.
. y" n''' have fancied scene III Il
u III " 10" ing grounds Of his tribe II
There was a gathering in
''n" ''N where the old chiefs sat III
us p'''so council. And, alta moment 0
az NJ wa" ' a shout was heard without,
distinguish O '' .,,nea toward the
ewes were turlleu lo""l" '''0
And as | eso' WV" M.,s+ aside the 4
nat III was that hung across it, and
""''' form of the Panther stalk
old man the ring, and took the seat '
'gh' zine been left vacant for the
again, you oh;ef Of the Mohawks. -
House by the Rirer.
I'd replied
old friend. TABLES TURNED