The Colfax chronicle. [volume] (Colfax, Grant Parish, La.) 1877-1981, 1881-04-30

How often to this lake, down yonder dark
And sinuous river, tNl
The painted warriors sailed, in fleets of bark,
With bow and CULVER!
This lank-haired chieftain is their child, and
To great nation,
And well might fix, you fancy, anywhere
His habitation. -t
Has he to come to hunt the bear and deer.
To trap the otterY
Alas! there's no such creature stirring here,
On land or water.
To have little traffic with the town,
Once more he chooses
The ancient camping place, and brings bis
squaw and papooses. Es
No tent was here in yesterevening's hush;
But the day, dawning, 100 :
Transfigures with a faint, roseate flush,
His dingy awning. a ullaH
The camp smoke curling in the misty light,
And canvas slanting 4e
To the green earth, all this is something quite
Fresh and enchanting;
Viewed not too closely, lest the slancing
The iridescent
Soft colors OF romance, give place TO things
Not quite SO pleasant. t..a
Tho gossamers glistened on the dewy turf; e
OF flashing foam-bells where the placid surf
Breaks on the shingle;
The shimmeripg birches by the ripping cove;
fresh breeze bringing
The fragrance of the pines, and in the grove
The tnrushes singing,
Make the day sweet. But other sight and
And doors I'LL it,
You find, as You approach their camping
ground ar
And reelxing skillet.
The illfed ours rush out with wolflsh bark;
A slim young girl leaps up. smooth-limbed and
AS bronze statue. ssea
A bare papoose about the campfire poles
Toddles at random:
And on the ground there, by the blazing Goals,
Sits tie old grandam.
Wrinkled and lean, her skirt matted rag
In plated collar
OF beads and hedgehog quilts, the smoke-dried
nag
squats in her squalor, So
Dressing marmot which the boys have shot;
Which done she scizes
With tawny claws, and drops into the pot
The raw, red pieces
The chief meanwhile has in some mischief
A bowling urchin,
Who knows too well, alas that he is bound
10 have abirching.
The stole of the woods, stern and unmoved.
Lays the light lash ON,
Tickling the lively ankles in approved
Fatherly fashion. l4i-t if
The boy sinks OF, visor boy, indeed
Wiser aud sorrier. sft
And is this he, the chief of whom we read,
a iiot, xxrur tf.yS
Where hangs his tomahawk3 the scalps of tall
Braves struck in battle?
Why, bless you, sir, his band is not at all
That kind of cattle?
In ceasing to be savages; they chose
That suit the savage; even those hickory bows
Are merely piaythings.
For common use he rather likes, think,
The white mans ride,
Hafchet and blanket; and Of white mans
fear, atrine. 80
With neiRhbors' scalp-locks and such baga-
He never NEEDLES,
Bows, baskets, and hardly know what else,
s He makes and peddles. 1atsl
Quite civilized, you see Is he aware go
OF his beatitude7 5,t-s,s
Feel proper gratftude?
Feathers and war paint he no more enjoys;
.it But he Is prouder
OF long tailed coat, and boots, and corduroys,
And white mans powder.
And he can trade his mink and musquash
Baskets OF wicker,
For white mans trinkets: bows and moccasins
For white mans liquor. as
His Manftou Is passing, with each strange,
Wild superstition; ,.F 80
He has the Indian agent for change,
~ And Indian mission Ii rf
He owns his cabin and potato patch, 1ee s
And farms a little y.
INDUSTRIOUS Quite, when there are nah to
l0sshafts to white.
Though all about him, like rising deem.
Flows the white nation,
he nas-and while he pleases US may keep Z
His Reservation.
Placed with his tribe in such a paradise,
IT'S past believing 7
That they should still be given to petty vice,
Treachcry and thieving.
Incentives to reuounce their Indian tricks
Are surely ample, f1tk
With white mans piety and politics b
For their example.
But are they happier now than when, some
The chosen quotas ~
Of tufted warriors sailed forth to fight
The fierce Dakotas2
still under that sedate, impassive port,
That dull demeanor, s1..'
Aspirit waits, demon sleeps-in short,
The same red sinneri
Within those inky pools, his eyes, see
Revenge and pfff0Ro-