The Butler weekly times. (Butler, Mo.) 1881-1918, 1913-10-23
IN Usage indian Romaqce.
BY l. 6. BYNUM

those days. AS they came closer
could see that all were in a grief
stricken attitude and spoke not {
work, just continual tramp, tramp
tramp, within an hour every Indiar
was in camp and still as if no one
were alive. The day was far spent
the whippoorwill had ceased singing
in the valley, the cricket was hushec
for the night. The sun had sunk be
hind the clouds, the sky which was
seemingly beautiful any other day
had now changed into lake of fire
the black clouds had risen in the
north, in few moments would cover
the crimson sea, all life seemed to be
at lull and without motion. Every
Indian head was bent low as in deer
sorrow and as the last rays of the
sun left the sky, and the clouds like
great black curtains were drawn
across the dome above, the activities
were at a standstill. The camp fires
had ceased to burn, the charred Goals
by midnight lay cold as the earth
and at the first sign of day break,
the entire tribe and tribes began
moaning and sobbing and from then
on until the sun appeared above the
eastern horizon.
had seen Silver Fawn a few times
but there were so many Indians and
so many dressed alike, couldn't tell
her from some of the others so l
waited for the ceremonies.
The old Chief had been dead three
days now, and this was the day for
burial. The Blue Mound was select
ed as the spot for interment of the
departed and the line was once more
formed and after a long drawn out
Indian formula of ceremonial they
were on their way.
Once more the serpent coiled and
began to wind lazily out across the
old trail to the Blue Mound. stood
and watched them until the last one
had disappeared from my sight and
rounded the hill toward the mound.
l mounted an Indian pony which had
been left by some of the tribe and
rode to the top of the hill, and could
then see them almost two miles
away winding around the foot of the
mound; on and on they went and
within half hour the mound was
covered with Indians and seemingly
no one moved. l watched until the
sun had gone far down the western
slope and as evening came on l could
see the horses walking down the
sides of the mound, grazing, and by
sunset a peculiar, bewailing sound
rang in my ears.
Then from out the cold grey dawn
there came, but low as from beneath
the earth of ours, strange sounds,
shrieks, signs, walls, cries, all in har-
mony of ceaseless monotony. Sounds
as if some nation were one voice,
around dying king who held the
life cords to every human soul, re-
fusing to release them. The air had
cleared, the wind had died down un-
til the earth seemingly was sinking
into bottomless sea of mysterious,
mournful, depressing and rumbling
turmoil. This weeping and mourn
ing went on for three days and to-
day this mound where Chief White
Hair was buried, is known as Weep
ing Mounds, just one mile and three
quarters south from Hagerhurst, or
the home of lack Hager.
This chief has been seen by men
living in the country today. On the
morning of the fourth day as look
ed toward the Mound, no one was in
sight, the tribes had returned to
camp and everything was, as / could
see, ready for new start. The grey
cloud hung like a death robe over
the Usage Valley. and along the river
the mist rose and vanished into the
warmer atmosphere above.
l began to feel myself to some
great extent out of place after the
excitement was over, and as l walked
about among the Indians and no one
seemingly taking any notice of me, l
left for the Mission. As l ncared the
old trading Post, ! could see q bunch
Of those French traders talking in a
oibberish way and were very hilari-
Gus according to my way Of looking