The Colorado statesman., 1913-06-07

the American ma
tionl And there
both the redskin and the paleface
have found a common happy hunting
ground"
The memory of Pushmataha Is still
alive; he is still the beloved CHER
among his people. Many Of the Choc-
taw Indians have visited Washington,
yet few know that the body of their
great leader lies SO close to the home
Of the Great White Father" A young
Choctaw student. strolling through
the cemetery a few years ago, sud
denly found himself reading this cpl
taph:
Pushmataha a Choctaw chief. lies here.
This monument to his memory Is erected
ed with him in delegation from their
nation, in the year 1924. to the. govern
ment of the United States. Pushmataha
was wise in council, eloquent in an ex-
traordinary degree. and on all occasions
and under all circumstances the white
mans friend. He died in Washington on
the 24th of December, 1924. of the Group,
In the sixtieth year of his age. Among
[ am gone let the big guns be fired over
me-"
Later on this young Choctaw Indian
remarked: THE grave of Pushmata-
ha is sacred in the eyes of tubbie'
"a full blood), like myself"
Sleep on, sleep peaceful here;
The traveller from thy native land will
claim this spot,
And give to thee what kingly tombs have
not,
The tribute of a tear!
Pushmataha was born about the
year 1854 and at the age of twenty
was already "Minco-chitoh," war
chief, and a recognized great hunter.
This chief was not descended from
any distinguished family, but while
yet a young man his talents and
prowess showed that he was born to
command. He was always poor, yet
kind and generous to those even less
fortunate, and always hospitable to
the stranger within his gates.
In 1924 Pushmataha came to Wash
ington as one of a deputation sent
to visit the Great White Father" for
the purpose of cementing more close
ly the bonds of friendship between
lue AntIlCdu peopic anu lhc INV
taws. The venerable Lafayette, then
upon his memorable and triumphal
tour through the United States, hap
pened to be in Washington at the
same time. When the Indian chiefs
paid their respects to him Pushmata-
ha was among those who addressed
him. The wording of his speech was
as beautiful and as simple as was the
nature of this Indian leader:
Nearly fifty SHOWS have melted
since you drew the sword as a COM
panion of Washington. With him you
fought the enemies of America. You
mingled your blood with that of the
enemy and proved yourself warrior.
After you finished that war you re-
turned to your own country, and now
you are come back to visit land
where you are honored by numerous
and powerful people. You see every
where the children of those by whose
side you went to battle, crowding
around you and shaking your hand,
as the hand of father. We have
heard these things told in our distant
villages and our hearts longed to see
you. We have come, we have taken
you by the hand and are satisfied.
This is the first time we have seen
you; it will probably be the last. We
have no more to say. The earth will
part us forever"
When the old warrior pronounced
these solemn words he little dreamed
that within a very few days the
earth would part them forever" for,
soon after, he became i'll with an
attack of the Group and found his
happy hunting ground" in a strange
land far from his native tribe.
His deathbed scene was character
istic of the man. When he felt that
the end was approaching he called his
companions around him, and desired
them to raise him up, to bring his
weapons and to decorate him with his
ornaments, that his death might be
that of a man. He was particularly
anxious that his interment should be
accompanied with military honors.
and when a promise was made that
his wishes should be fulfilled he be-
came cheerful and conversed with
composure until the thread of life was
cut. In conversation with his Indian
friends, shortly before his death. he
said: Il shall die. but you will re.
turn to our brethren. AS you go
along the paths you will see the flow.
ers and hear the birds sing, but Push
mataha will see them and hear them
no more. When you shall come to
our home they will ask you, Where
is Pushmataha?' and you will saw to
them, He is no more!' They will
hear the tidings like the sound of n
mighty oak in the stiffness of the
woods"
The old chief had said, when am
gone let the big guns be fired over
me-" and they were fired, for his fr.
neral was of very imposing nature