Helena weekly herald. [volume] (Helena, Mont.) 1867-1900, 1882-07-20
THE INDIANS FUTURE.
Profound and Erudite SpecuIatiOns
Thereon by Bill Nye, B. L.,
of Wyoming.

The question of what is going to be the
glorious ultimatum of the red man of Amerca
is one which demands of us, as people,
serious consideration. Will few fleeting
years extirpate and exterminate from the
face of the earth race which has so long
filled our fourth readers and our school decla-
nations with crude OratOry exist only rs o
smoke-tanned, trimmed memory I? viii
| the beautiful picture of the brunette Indian
maiden at last become nothing but a fronti-
piece of time-honored legend and the trade
mark of fine-cut factory? Let us hope
that it will not not.
| We have crossed the wide ocean and
wrested from these people their lands, and
then to add insult to injury we have taught
them the mysteries of our civilization.
! With the white man came the doctrine of
vicarious atonement and the open back shirt
He brought with him the dictionary and the
garden hose, salvation and saleratus The
tale was soon told, and now on the vertebr;e
of the continent, the telephone and the
morning papers are crowding the red
widower and the pigeon-toed scion of Pow
haitian into the moaning sea. The restless
waves of civilization and soap have crowded
old Rise-Up-William Riley and his whole
tribe into the black night of forgetfulness
household goods and his wife, and upright
piano, and stolen toward the couch Of dying
day. Now he stands upon the rocky battle
ments that border the new States, and bathed
in rec sunlight and nothing else in particu-
lar, he shakes hands with his approaching
DOOM
Had he taken more kindly to the bath-tub
Of the pale face and fraternized more ade-
quately with the crash towel of the European,
his oblivion would have been less speedy
and the black tom cat night of eternal sleep
less formerly.
Silent and unrelenting, unmoved above
the broad cemetery of his people, stolidly
awaiting forgetfulness and death, we cannot
help admiring the brawny brave with the
undaunted eye and buckskin pants with the
seat cut out. Nature gave to thee, thou
dusky warrior, strength like the eagle and
swiftness in the chase, but in her wisdom
denied the copper lining that is required to
meet and conquer the vintage of a progress
sive age. The mountain lion may meet thee
and yield up his life at thy hands, but the
juice of the centipede, which is distilled by
the pale face and sold to thee, tangles up thy
duodenum and cracks the crown-sheet of thy
digester.
Brave orator of the school book, grim relic
of the days of Pocahontas, we watch with
tear-dimmed eyes thy closing hours. Adieu,
thou Indian mother standing on the steep,
shores Of eternity. Behind thee
rests the dead heroes of thy race, and at thy
side the brindle relic of mighty tribe Of
Indian dogs, fatigued and listless, pets his
favorite flea. No one can look upon this sad
and smoky groupe unmoved-the fading
of glorious petty larceny mob.
Had he adopted the Prince Albert coat and
doctrine of a protective tariff, instead of the
plug hat and the whisky sour, his future
might have been resplendent one, and his
life less clouded with failure and remorse
We should learn from this to shun the
errors which have busted the glorious future
of the red man. Let us profit by his ex-
ample and eschew the flowing bowl. We
should also avoid the exposure of an out
door life. A constant communion with
nature and wet feet shortens life and clouds
the pathway with gloom and catarrh.