Custer weekly chronicle. [volume] (Custer City, S.D.) 1890-1931, 1911-02-25
Another shadow had fitted by and as

We were going to stay here for few
days and it seemed like getting home.
The prospect of stopping in one shelter
ed spot for few days was cheering for
the most of the party felt the need OF
rest, as did the oxen.
A little cottonwood timber fringed the
margin of the river while rich, yellow
grass covered the ground. The river
was frozen over solid save here and
there small spot where the rapid cur
rent whirled. Here small holes seemed
to keep open during the coldest wealth
er. took pail and cup and went for
water. 1 could dip 1t up from these
whirl pools. 1t was nearly as white as
milk and had q rich taste like milk. To
let it stand in pail over night does not
clear it in the least and the sediment
that would settle at the bottom of the
pail would be scarcely preceptible. II
would simply be a bonanza for a dairy
man near some city. We remained
three days in this camp. Shoes were put
on most of the oxen and they had rest
ed and recuperated wonderfully in that
time.
According to the best Biographies of
the time the land on the north side of
this river was designated as "The Bad
Lands" and was supposed to be, as its
name implies, a country destitute of
vegetation, if not of wood and water.
Consequently to avoid as little travel
in this land as possible Gordon con-
cluded to follow the river bottom. For
the next two days we made but little
headway, the most of our time being
spent in cutting down the banks and
making crossings. The river thorough
ly occupies the first bottom by meander-
ing from one bluff or bank to the other.
In these two days we crossed the river
times and advanced only
five miles. We were travelling in near
ly the right direction but could not
hope to reach our destination in life
time at this rate. We were also liza.
BILE to encounter Indians at any time
here.
Considerable dissatisfaction existed in
the party occasioned by Gordon's SEEM
ing wilfulness in unnecessarily exposing
the party to the Indians by persstently
following this course.
On the morning of the third day we
pulled back from the river, some of US
taking considerable ice in our wagons.
At night we went into camp on the high
land on the north side of the river and
on the eastern border of the real Bad
Lands. Here we could see for miles up
the river and in the very heart of this
world famed spot, which must be seen
to be appreciated. The stupendous
of the view was quite appeal
ing to the senses. 1t seemed to occupy
a huge basin some three or four hun
dred feet deep and stretched away to
the west as far as the eye could reach.
In appearance it resembles the massive
ruins of some prehistoric city where
massive and magnificent structures have
defied the ravages of time and now
stand as mute representatives of long
ago. Here a beautiful cathedral with
its majestic spires and domes, there
some huge fertilization with its ram
parts and battlements, while beyond is
a grand castle with its turrets and tow
ers standing erect like the true sentinels
on guard over the sleeping dead. Cling
ing to the sides of these seeming ruins,
vines and cedars as if in defiance of
time and elements they would protect
their crumbling sides with their cling
ing forms and cover their tottering de-
crepit remains with a mantle of charity
1t seemed veritable CITY of the Dead" "
A sense of loneliness and desolation
seemed to prevade the entire region and
as l viewed the panorama before me and
listened to the coyotes bark. confess
my musings we're not the most cheer
ing and the lines of some traveller prob
ably stranded on some desert was forci-
bly, brought to mind, the title of which
1 think was "Oh! bury me not on the
desert Wild" and I could not suppress
the thought.
Obi Bury me not In the bad lands wild,
NVhara hIaak xyin 10 aiuf an
Where the weary eye of the woodland child
Shed tears for Its sheltered home.
For no trees are there, no shade Is there
To ward of the suns hot rays,
No kindly shelter OF leaves are there
To hide from the moons dull gaze.
Oh! Bury me not on this barren plain
Where the coyotes dreary bark
Pierces the weary pilgrims tired brain
Ere the daylight fades TO dark.
For wild beasts are there and skulls are there
White, bleached, In the sun and rain;
The CHASTITY skeleton of despair
Stalks abroad upon that plain.
Oh! Bury me not on this barren waste,
Mid bones of the buried past.
Where grueSome skeletons are left to grace
The land that entOmbed them last
For could not rest in that home above
And look on this form OF clay
That was once my home, now bereft Of love
And deserted In this way.
Oh! Bury me not in this land Of clay,
Where time in his silent tread
Has stopped In his rounds ere the early day
Has lifted its golden head.
For all that's there has a seal of the past
That's dated beyond our ken
And would not wish TO be laid to rest
IN land unknown OF men.
Then bury me not on this cheerless spot
In the graveyard of the past,
Where aeons Of time have been forgot
In the ages that's gone past