The Indiana State sentinel. [volume] (Indianapolis) 1868-1895, 1880-04-21
A Boy Hero.
IRr L L NJ

"Tell US story, grandpa story please"
1t was little blue-eyed Sadie who made
the request as she climbed up to her seat of
honor on the old mans knee. All the chill
dren with eager faces, crowded round his
chair. for they knew that grandpa would re-
fuse his little favorite nothing.
''What kind of story, my pet2" he said,
gently stroking her golden curls.
"a dost story"
Something about pirates" cried Ralph,
the eldest, who did not believe in fairies or
ghosts.
'Or Indiansl Oh, do tell us true story
about Indians, grandpaI' exclaimed George.
"Mamma said that you could tell us some
thing wonderful that happened once, if you
wished to-something really true"
'Very well, it shall be about Indians"
grandpa answered; 'and my hero is only
eight years old-about your age George"
As the children drew their chairs nearer to
listen, they made a very pretty picture in
that cosy, frelit room.
"Many years ago" grandpa began, 'there
lived family of English emigrants on the
Western frontier. Their home was not as
comfortable as this, for the house was simply
a lOg-cabin, without curtains or carpets, and
with loop-holes instead of windows. Yet
Mr. Martin and his wife were very happy
as long as they were untroubled by Indians,
who were very fierce and powerful at the
time speak of. The husband worked all
day. cutting down trees in the neighborhood
Sometimes he took with him his little son,
named Georgie-who looked very much like
he George who is listening to me now.
Thu boy had larl dark ey and long, yell
low curls-just like yours, my child.
$50 they all lived happily in this strange,
lonely home for about year; until one dark,
moonless night, party of Sioux Indians on
the war-path surrounded the cabin, and woke
the inmates with fearful war-whoop.
"Mr. Martin, springing out of bed. seized
his carbines and two trusty pistols, and pre-
pared to defend the wife and child whom he
loved so we'll
George held the weapons in readiness
for his father, while the mother loaded them.
Soon, alas bullet, fired by the redskins,
passed through the loophole, killing instantly
the courageous Mrs. Martin"
"Grandpa, you are cryingT' Sadie inter.
rupted, looking up into the old mans face.
"Hush, darling!" he answered, brushing
something like moisture from his eyes. "Let
me tell you all the rest.
'ffhen mr.. Martin lost all hope; but, for
the sake of his child, he made gallant strug-
gle. The Indians, after six of their number
had been slain, burst into the cabin, and one
OF the foremost, with single blow Of his
tomahawk, killed the heroic Englishman."
"And what about Dorgie?" Sadie asks,
with breathless interest,
''The child Cred the last last loaded pistol
at the red skin who had murdered his father.
The charge took effect-the Indian was dan
gerously wounded; but a dozen weapons
were Immediately leveled at the bows head.
By the interference of the chief George was
saved from death, and carried away as a
captive.
"The Indians had two other prisoners be-
sides him-men whom they intended to tor
ture on reaching home.
"After two weary days of journeying over
the prairies, the party at length arrived at
Sioux village.
Crowds of old women and children, ac-
companied by barking ours, came forth 10
meet them, and especially to jeer the help
less captives.
"The next day, amidst great rejoicing, the
latter were put to death at the stake-accord-
ing to the invariable custom of the savages.
"George was turned over by the old war
riors to be tortured by the Indian children.
"Imitating their elders, these little
wretches tied the white child with leather
thongs to stake driven firmly into the
ground.
"Before piling the brushwood round
him the Indian children, with much yelling
and confusion, and retired to the distance of
about 20 PAGES, arming themselves mean
while with light tomakawks and with bows
and arrows.
"They first drew line which it was for
hidden to pass. Then each one in turn
stepped TO the front and fired, trying how
close he could come to the boy without hit
ting him.
George felt the arrows whiz past his
head. He was too much interested, or, l
should say surprised, by the terrible ordeal
through which he was passing to feel afraid.
But he grew very angry when enc of the
missiles, better aimed than the others, car
ried away lock of his golden hair.
THE young Indians yelled their applause
at this fine shot, and some squaws standing
near by seemed to enjoy the sport intensely,
for they encouraged the children tocontinue.
after a few more trials, they grew tired
of this kind of this kind of archery, so they
proceeded to something more dangerous and
exciting.
Each in turs, exerting all his strength,
flung q tomahawk at the little prisoner.
OH It was piteous to see the child, with
bright, blue eyes, and yellow curls float
ing on the wind, standing there a helpless
target for that crowd Of young sayages.