The Nevada County picayune., 1908-10-22

row give me yoar answer. fomorro~ I will climb to the top Of this great rock which rises from the water like a wall I will crawl to the point that reaches out over the brown water or the Arkansah like a mans finger There l will wait for sign--the form of a maiden who will come to tho edge of the water on the further bank and lift her face to the brave on the rock. In the willows the canoe will be waiting. If the maiden comes to the water and lifts her face to the waiting brave he will hasten to her. and with her will go to the lodge of the great chief, her father While the sun turns the sky to bloou the brave will wait; until the glory is gone and the twilight comes the brave will wait for the maiden. And if she comes not, when the sun has slipped into it's grave behind the pines. the brave too will slip away away forever. Farewell, Leh-on-et- tun-nly Passing Breeze! Farewell until tomorrow-or forever,'
 On the morrow the Cherokee chief hung his quiver on the lodge wall. put his tomahawk aside and emptled his pipe of peace. Then with the blanket of his tribe wrapped loosely about his shoulders, he passed from his lodge and without looking back took the path to the mountain. AS he climbed the rocky way centl- pede scurried from under a loose stone and crossed his path, lizard darted aside to let him pass, a great bird scoared over his head, but he saw them not The top of the rock only was in sight to him, with vision of maiden on the opposite shore when he had gained the top. Slowly he crawled to the tip Of rock that pointed out over the water like a mans finger. There he raised ms tall stature with his face turned to- ward the distant shore, and waited.
 Like a bronze figure he stood as the golden sunset flooded rock and river, while his eagle eye pierced the gray shadows for the outline of maiden's form.
 The call of mourning came on the stiffness from some distant cover echoed faintly by the waters washing the foot of the rock.
 The sun had turned into crimson ball and was sinking behind the dark pines on the distant shore. Yet the maiden did not come and look up at the brave from the waters edge.
 Until the last ray had faded the statue-like brave stood and watched. Then he lifted his hands, pushed back the crown of eagle feathers from his brow and threw back the clinging blanket.
 One sharp cry pierced the stiffness of the gathering night, the death call of the Cherokee, followed by a swift splash at the foot of the frowning rock
 Then the troubled water straight ened itself in it's course and rippled on. the voice of the mourning-dove sounded faintly and the panther called to it's mate that was dead.
 
 Dar-dah-ne-leh joined his chiefs no more around the council fire
 In time his braves smoked their last pipe of peace, laid aside the trappings of the chase and buried their tomahawks forever.
 Farther and farther toward the land of the Setting Sun the red man was driven by the white, and before his onward march the deer fled from the forest and the bison from the plain, while around the rock under whose shadow had floated the light canoe of the Cherokee brave the pale face made bis habitation
 But in history and story the love that stirred into a wild passion the heart in warriors calm breast will be remembered, for as a perpetual monument the habitation of inc pale faA, now thriving city like the silent rock, bears the name of Cherokoe's proudest chief Darda- nelle.