The Yakima herald. [volume] (North Yakima, W.T. [Wash.]) 1889-1914, 1895-08-08
So Caroline Died.

So Caroline Died.
Caroline, one of the most disreputable
squaws who ever trod the sage brush
plains Of the mighty West-Caroline, a
spotter par excellence and witness extra
ordinary against numberless hoboes who
fell within her grasp with the whisky ~
they sold her-Caroline, the best known
maiden Of the copper-colored strain ever
witnessed ambling in zig-zag footsteps
down Yakima avenue for many long
year-Caroline lie dead; and the Dalles
Times M0untaineer thus discourses on the
sad demise:
Caroline, she OF the majestic figure
and arid throat, has gone over the river
into the happy hunting ground provided
for her race. There, let us hope. she will
be judged not according to her deeds but
her lights. She was a remarkable
woman for an Indian, both physically
and intellectually, being of regal height,
and mentally far superior to her race.
She was about fifty years old and was
known by everybody in the country.
The victim of white mems vices, she took
early to hard drink, and had put enough
whisky inside her copper-colored skin to
pass for still. AS an all around fighter
she had no equals and no superiors, be-
ing able to knock out any half dozen OF
her tribe and few white men thrown
in, when she got on her muscle, and
was, in fact, regular copper-celored
cyclone from Cello. But her battles
and her bottles here have been fought,
and the end came in the Jail which to
her was about q home. The fierce wild
nature is stilled, and the moccasin.cov-
cred feet pointed skyward today in the
undertaking rooms, as she submitted,
for the first time peacefully, to be sat
upon. More sinned against than SHINING,
she has passed over to the whittier, laid
low by the wiles of her dusky brethren,
two Of whom lie in Jail awaiting examin-
alton. She sas found last night about 8
O'Clock at the corner OF First and Wash
ington streets by Watchman Connolly.
At that time she was accusing an Indian
OF poisoning her, and In few moments
she fell to the sidewalk In commissions.
She claimed at the time two Indians had
poisoned her, and the assertions seem to
be borne out by her death which occur
red in the jail an hour later. Poor old
Caroline! Victim of circumstances, and
OF surroundings. The earth in the Pot
ters' field will open and close over her,
the west wind will whisper through
the pines, the night owl will boot
over her head; over her, who,
living, would not stand hooting
from anyone. The grand old
Columbia will continue its dashings, the
salmon will run yet again, sometime, by
Cello, where first her infantile feet made
dainty tracks in the sand, and where her
baby teeth first met through the rich
pinkness OF the royal chinook. The sea-
sons will come and 90, the leaves will
fall, and the zephyrs light out for Grant.
bat never, never again shall the red
forked lightning from the white mans
still gurgle down that pstrician neck,
never, never shall hard cider bite or
Jamaica ginger deceive to her hurt, or
favoring extracts and burning fluid seek
to mingle in harmony beneath the mid
sections of her calico gown. The mi ght-
lest Of her tribe has fallen, fallen like
wilkins Dinah, and besides she is dead.