The daily journal. (Salem, Or.) 1899-1903, 1901-11-27

.
every shrub and flower is familiar,
down the long avenue of the grape ar
bor through the gate to the pond be-
! low, she runs The ducks are Just
coming down i'm long white line and
one by one dropping into the water
for their morning swim. buckles, l
am going away" she said. Did you
know It? You won't see me any
more" And she threw the last crumbs
of her bread and butter to see them
dive for IT, Long and thoughtfully she
stands and looks at the playful ducks,
| the water lily buds, just peeping from
under their broad leaves, and across
to the further sloping shore where
branching oaks throw their cool shade
There is a shadow on the child's face
us she walks slowly along the sandy
shore, but It is soon gone and she
skips away through the wooded lot
The wild grape vines have climbed
to the tree tops and hang down within
reach She catches one and with a
few running steps swings free, back
and forth back and forth, forgetful of
everything save the joy of living. Then
hastily gathering an arm full Of
fragrant spring blossoms she is ready
into the lane the painted wagons with
their white covers. drawn by horned
oxen, slowly wend their way. one
glance backward at the dear old
home with its white gables cleaning
through the tree tops where the birds
twitter. and a little head drops on
Mothers knee with the wall, ooh
Mother, we have just left everything"
~,
walls she adds, "But wen come back
some day, won't we Mother" Then
with a startled look and wide open eyes
she asks, Where's baby sister,"
Asleep in her blankets" was the re-
ply So all was satisfactory and she
hummed to herself and played with
her flowers.
The pleasant homes, the towns and
the cities, are all left behind, and our
travellers are i'm the Indian Country"
Great herds Of buffalo rumble over the
plains like rolling thunder and the
shadow of a moving cloud. The fleet
footed antelope dashes away on slen-
der limbs, and the Jack rabbit, with ears
laid back, leaps from before the slow
moving train. Little prairie dogs pop
up from their underground houses and
bark at the long procession.
1t is hot July day. The sun beats
down fercely and there is no water.
The patient oxen toll wearily and the
long train scarcely moves. Why don't
they have horses and move faster? No
animal but the strong, slow, patient OK
is able to transport heavily loaded
wagons on this wearisome journey.
There are horses for the saddle, for
hunting and driving, but the OK must
bear the burden. The heat grows more
intense and the dust more sitting. But
far on the horizon little cloud rises.
There is a slight breeze rising. 1t in
Creases and at last blows fiercely
Down with your covers button them
tight" is the command. The teams
wheel aside into hollow skirted by
trees. The trees lash each other, the
sky turns black, the wagon covers
sway and snap, and the hail comes
down with a roar. The storm is short
but fierce and at its close the hail lies
thick on the ground. The tired, hun
CRY cattle crop the damp grass, lunch
is served and all move on refreshed
and cheerful. Milk cans have been
filled with hail stones and there is
plenty of ice water for the sultry hours
of the afternoon.
Forward creeps the long train day
after day, like a serpent cOiling into a
ring at night to make a safe fold for
the animals. Through weary nights
the sentries watch with shouldered
guns while the fires burn low. At last
a fort Is reached, an oasis I'm the des-
ert. Dogs bark, Indians caper on their
spotted ponies, and black eyed tawny
run out and in. Here
is rest for "a day and new
supplies. And It is a red letter day
for the emigrant children. Mother
these boys and girls have Injun moth
ers and white fathers" chatters little
Nell. I'm glad my mothers not an
Injun." Mother can l have some
beads? All the other children are get
ting beads" do you want to look like
an Indian?' asks the mother. mo, but
| want some beads. Everybody has
beads, and l like them" So short
close necklace of crystal beads was
fastened about the small neck, and a
long string of many Colors was given
her to play with.
As the train resumed It's journey II
was Joined by two Indian women from
the fort who wished to travel under
It's protection to the next trading post.
All day their gentle ponies walked be-
side the wagons the two women chat
ting quietly together. no the child
they We're an interesting study. why"
she said they don't cook nor wash
dishes nor work. They just sit on
their red blankets and sew bead flow
ers on pretty yellow mocasins and bags.
What do they eat?" "They have pull
verized dried meat and other food in
those pouches that hang on their sad
die horns" replies the mother. "They
are Indian ladies', l guess, cause they
wear such pretty dresses with fringe
and BEADS and little bells, and pretty
yellow beads in their black hair"
Another trading post I'm the wilder
ness, and the train halts. Are they
going to give their little girls away,
Mother" questions Nell, while
strange new fear Chlus her young
heart, that such a thing could be.
Yes, my child, there is no school here,
and she is going to make her home I'm
Oregon so she can go To school" So
little Mary Bridger left father ana
mother and desert land.
The great train moved on and on till
summer was past ana the nights We're
growing cold, The Columbia, the
great river of the West, was reached
at last Indians were numerous and
saucy, ready To trade, beg or steal, The
train was breaking up and the people
going to different parts To winter, In
an open boat one small company
sought TO reach the Willamette valley.
The winds blew cold, Mount Hood put
on new white overcoat and the
rains came down, For many days that