St. Tammany farmer. [volume] (Covington, La.) 1874-current, 1898-03-12
THE STONY KNOLL.
Ground That Was Sacred Even &
~ HaAfam.

an Iadian.
The day for the allotment had come.
The agent, roughly, but kindly, was
carrying out the provision OF the gov
ernment, which had decreed that
henceforth the Indian should own the
earth like the white man-that the
beautiful sentiment which had consid-
cred the earth az common property
should give way to the system of the
white man.
The settlers, hard, eager and greedy.
looked on while the agent set aside the
best lands of an arid and treeless res
ervation for the Indians. No word was
too vile to be applied to these wander
ers before the will of the Great Father.
In the eyes Of these men the red man
was a pest to be exterminated like the
tarantula.
The agent bluffly stood for the rights
of his charges. He was not mission
ary; he was not always tactful or kind
or just in little things; but in this inn
portant thing he was fully determined
to do his duty. One by one he settled
his best wards along the river where
their lands could be irrigated and where
grass grew for their ponies
To him came old Capeawitz, she that
had once been called 'the sunflower-
gatherer" because of her girlish light
ness and grace and her love of flowers.
She was old now. and sad and heavy and
alone. Her children were grown. her
husband was dead, and she had hard
work to live.
She came with pleading in her eyes.
She stood before the agent and spoke,
and her voice was shrill with eagerness.
AS she talked she pointed away across
the blazing land at low rocky knoll
which made out boldly into the fat val
ley. Then she pleaded again in Z
strange, shrill, nasal moan.
"What does she say ?'' asked the agent
OF the interpreter.
"She say she want hill"
"Is that it?" he asked Of the old
woman.
Capeawitz beat her breast and said:
.AMe! mel" and pointed away At the
barren rocks.
mo good" said the agent. "Rocks,
no good. No wheat grow, no corn, no
grass. Bad land"
She understood, but her entreaties
only increased. Her voice took on its
primitive wildness, each phrase ending
in a peculiar, pleading note. like the
plaintive whine Of dog.
.Me! mel" and in the words she put
SO much Of woman's agony that the
agent said:
"An right. Yours. yes" She caught
his hand. and laid her wrinkled cheek
upon it with the action Of loving dog.
The agent turned to the interpreter.
Tell her she shall have it. but ask her
why she wants it so bad. She must
have a mine on it" he said to one of his
assistants.
The interpreter talked with her.
When she realized what he wished to
know, she shrugged her shoulders and
look of mystery and sullen reticence
came into her face. Her eyelids dropped
and her eyes had a strange CLEAN. She
shook her bead till her heavy black
cheek-locks swung like the clappers Of
bell.
"She no tell. She say she no tell. She
lust want, that's ALL" said the interpre.
ter.
That's a queer thing!" said the
agent. II wonder, now, what's got into
the old girls head? Inever get through
finding out queer things about these
people," he explained to a visitor who
stood watching this curious colloquy.
"Ask her again." he said. turning to
the interpreter. "and tell her that il
she doesn't tell me I'll not give her the
land"
The interpreter communicated this,
and the old woman gave a cry Of fear,
of anger. of outrage. For q moment
she writhed. Then she became rigid.
It was plain she could neither speak
nor be silent. She uttered a pitiful lit
tie muttering, moaning sound.
The interpreter came to her aid.
"Me know" he said. and a. be looked
away something fine and lofty came
in his face of sudden.
"What is it?"
dead mans there. Him child. Him
husband"
Her mine was in the heap of rags in
which her dead lay concealed deep in
the crevices of the rocks.-Hamlin Gar.