The mirror. (Stillwater, Minn.) 1894-1925, 1914-12-17
as we'll, a handy watering place for
their ponies was always preferred.

Those who had planted crops,
seemed to think, all that is neces-
sary for them to do, was to get the
seeds in the ground; every day dam
up their lateral, so as to flood
not irrigate- ground, and then
await developments. | would like
to say, that the sage-brush, grease
wood and cactus, that originally
grew upon their land, was really of
a more orderly and artistic appear
ance than some of their gardens.
About the only vegetable that
they took any interest in, was the
watermelon. Now some people
think the Negro is about the real
eminence, when it comes to con-
suming the water melon. But, |
have never yet known a Negro, who
could not walt until a melon was
ripe. before he started to do any
of that so-called consuming. Not
so with these Indians, just let
melon put in an appearance upon
one of their vines, and it was gone;
green or no green. There was no
anticipating upon their part; it was,
putting it mildly, merely case of,
now or never
Now taking these same Indians
These Indians l have known, and
omitting this slender imperfection
in their lives, This imperfection,
which was caused, perhaps, by their
lack of training along agricultural
lines, during their younger years
| will tell you OF some of their
great achievements along other
lines; education, for instance.
Hard Ground. attended the re-
servation school during bis junior
years. Perhaps he skipped school,
too. But, then, let us not bestow
condemnation upon anyone for
skipping school, because that is
what we all, at some time; have
done; or at least, have tried to do.
At the age of eighteen, the agent
decided to send Hard Ground
away to the big school, to far away
Carlisle. Hard Ground became
Big Chief, back there in Carlisle;
His name was upon everybody's
tongue-both red and white. He
He made that famous fifty yard
dash a few years ago; you all re-
member.
When l first met Hard Ground,
he was swinging along dusty
western road. with his hands thrust
deep into the pockets of his peg-top
trowsers; a pair of pointed toed,
patent leather oxfords upon his feet:
a derby hat was tilted back from
his high broad forehead, andhe was
whistling SO Long Mary"
He stopped and borrowed a
match, then inquired the number
of miles to the agency. l supplied
him with a match and desired in.
formation and he took off down
the road, resuming his whistling.
Now there's a bright. and in
telligent character for an Indian"
| soliloquized. What a pity they
can't do that with all these ignoram-
uses"
The next time l met Hard Ground,
was about eighteen months later. |
was on the Divide on my way to the
railroad. I met up with an Inian;
he was riding young Indian pinto,
bare back. His feet were embel-
lished in pair of artistically bead
ed moccasins, while his ankles hung
bare, below pair of frayed over
alls. His hair hung to his shoul-
ders, not being long enuf to braid,
and he looked every bit. the unedu-
Gated North American savage.
Immediately, regardless of his
great change of appearance, recog-
nized him as the ouce famous David
Hard Ground. why. hello their,
Hard Ground" 1 greeted him.
But what did he do? Why he
merely grinned; showed his even
white teeth and said. No sabe."
A week later l spoke of Hard
Ground to one of the agents clerks.
l told him of our meeting and of his
disreputable appearance. That's
common he told me. Most of
them do that, They return from
school; marry a squaw, and that's
the end of them. There's a good
many right here at the agency that
have better educations than you or
[. To look at them one would
think that they had never been
under a shingled roof, or saw a
first grade primer"
l knew that every word he told me
uos frun hacausA in the fOllOwirU U