Wood County reporter. [volume] (Grand Rapids [i.e. Wisconsin Rapids], Wis.) 1857-1923, 1889-11-14

and the shot In another, and in her hurry
and confusion she herd pounding on the
door. just like that
Uncle Zebedee raped on the old oak
table with startling effect, and then, aft
er moment S confusion, continued: ''She
loaded the gun, and went down to the foot
of the stairs, and looked through the latch
hole of the stair door, so-and-yes, and
the Indian was standing at the window.
That window. His two eyes were staring
with wonder on the Two Brass Kettles.
He had probably never seen a kettle like
these before, and he did not know what
they were.
While he stood staring and wondering,
the kettles began to move. Two little
hands protruded under the bail of each of
them. like turtles paws, for the kettles
stood ON their ears, which lifted them a
little way from the floor. One of the
children began to creep and cry, moving
the kettle. The other began to do the
same. The cries caused the kettles to
ring. The creeping kettles! They looked
like two big beetles or water turtles and
such the Indian might have thought them
to be, but they beloved like two brazen
animals, and-did you ever hear a child
cry under a ketse?'' said Uncle Zebedee,
with a curious smile.
We all said that we never had.
Then, child, you just get under one OF
those kettles and holler You needn t be
afraid-there ain tho Indians now to do
We any harm. Holler loud!''
did so.
DO you hear that?" said Uncle Zebe-
dee. you never heard such a sound as
that before. Hollow as d bell. Just like
man with lungs of brass and no body.
There, let another little fellow try it. >
Another child was placed under one Of
the kettles, and uttered continuous cry.
The sound rang all over the room.
There, said Uncle Zebedee, did any
one ever hear anything like that? 1t rings
all over the room, scary like.
''Well, the children cid not know about
the Indian, and they began to creep to-
ward the light of the window, moving the
kettles like two enormous beetles, and
crying and making the kettles rumble and
rumble all around, boom-oom-oom, Just
like that The Indians black eyes glowed
like fire, and he raised his gun and fired at
one of the kettles. But nothing came OF
it; the shot did not harm the children I'M
der the kettle. 1t frightened both the
children, and made them cry the louder
and louder and scream as though they were
frantic. Ugh!' said the Indian Him no
goot.
The kettles were all alive now, moving
and echOing. He was more puzzled than
before What kind of creatures could
these be with great brass back and living
paws, and full of unheard of noises like
those? Ugh! ughI said he, just like
that The kettles kept moving and sound
ing, and the Indian grew more and more
excited as he watched them. Suddenly he
threw up his great arms and turned his
back, and-now it all goes from me again. >
He said UGH and threw up his arms
and turned his back, . prompted aunt
And the maid opened the stair door
and fired, > continued Uncle Zebedee ''She
drew quickly back and waited for the fam
lily to return. The children continued to
cry. But they were safe, as they could not
Overturn the kettles and bullets could not
reach them. The family came in an hour
in great alarm. They had seen human
blood In the road, but no Indian.
"a few days afterward the Indian s
body was found in some hazel bushes near
by the brook. 1t was buried in the meadow
there, and -
The Indians grave, said aunt,
prompting.
Yes, used to NOW over it when I was
boy. and -'
That's all, Uncle Zebedee, " said aunt.
You've got through now"
Yes, I've got through now I don t
think that shall ever tell that story again,
and -'
There was something pathetic, and yet
beautifully prophetic, in the continu-
ance. The slanting sun shone through
the old window, and the chippering of
birds was heard in the fields.
Uncle Zebedee never did tell the story
again. The final conjunction of his long,
peaceful life came soon after he told the
tale to me. The violets and MOSES cover
him in the old Dorchester burying ground
The old house is gone, the two kettles, the
gun and even the gray stone from the field
that rudely marked the Indians grave
Hezekiah Butterworth in Youths Com
panion.