The Wichita daily eagle. [volume] (Wichita, Kan.) 1890-1906, 1893-04-25
THE CROW CHILD'S BURIAL.
An Indian Mothers Grief Over the Death
of Her Child.

3
OF Her Child.
''Half way up the sloping side OF the
mountain l see a fat jutting rock, and
on it a heap of round white stones The
setting sun, falling behind the frs,
throws warm shadows across the slope
and light the jutting rock with golden
glory. Below, foauing and eddying,
the deep Yellowstone rushes away into
darkness.
"a figure glides silently from the
shadows of the frs and steps out upon
the jutting rocks. 1t stiffens upward
and stands erect, with arms out
stretched, facing the red clouds in the
west A tangled mass of black hair
falls downward below the bent Shout
ders- The dark face, bloo0less and
ghastly, comforts in agony, it is a mass
of writing burrows and dark lines. The
breasts, hanging forward, are cut and
gashed; the blood trickles from the
wounds upon the blanket bound about
the waist. The arms project rigidly
upward; the CLASSY eyes, fixed on the
sun, roll in wild ecstacy.
Then, just as the last glimmer of
the suns disc drops from sight behind
the summit of the Rockies, the figure
falls PROSTATE upon the white stones.
"Oh, Wau-o-na. Dead. dead! Wau-o-
ma, deadr,
''The cry echoes from the rocks and
loses itself in the roar of the river. 4
vulture hovers over the spot and scars
away. The figure writhes upon the
stones. and rising, falls again and
again, uttering cries of utmost anguish:
"'Wau-o-na, dead. Wau-o-na, dead!
deadr
THE red light deepens into purple;
the moons pale rays whiten the rocks
and the spray Of the rushing river. 1t
falls upon the quivering body on the
stones-the dark mother heart torn
and bleeding over the body of her
child. The piercing cries have brought
an answer. Out Of the forest echoes a
shrill bark, sharp and vibra tory. II
grows louder and comes nearer and
nearer. The Crow mother hears it
rises, listens. 1t is like the voice of
death. She heaps up the white stones
again upon the rock, tears her hair,
and with one shuddering. prolonged
moan glides down into the darkness
that hides the foot of the mountain.
"a dark object swoops downward
ont of the sky, flaps it's wings an in
slant over the spot, and rises again out
of sight.
THE sharp cries in the forest are
multiplied; they come nearer. Bright
eyeballs CLEAN among the shadows,
and a dozen hungry, painting creatures
scramble shutting upon the rock.
They tear at the deep stones, scat
ter them about, and send them
rolling down the slope into the river.
teeth, shakes it, and tries to break the
wattles that bind it. The others rush
upon him, tear it away, and roll snarl
ing and growing over each other. The
jutting rock has become mass of
struggling forms; the air is filled with
greedy clamor; the sound Of the river is
lost in the uproar.
"Again the black form swings down
ward from the tops of the frs. 1t
pauses over the rock, darts swiftly
downward, seizes small round object
in its talons and scars again. 1t bears
away the skull of child.
''One by one the grumbling wolves
steal back into the forest. The rock
stands out again white and lonely in
the moonlight. Once more the silence
is unbroken except by the water rush
ing through the mountain gorge.
THE Crow child has been buried. .
Alvin II. Sydenham, in Belford's Maya
zine