"Quad's odds"; . HAVE just returned from interview- the last Indian warrior left in Michigan. I feel sad. Once they were plenty—now they are scarce. Less than a hundred years ago the forests echoed the whoops of thousands of noble red men, and the valleys were dotted with their lodges. Now there is nary nary found the last warrior proppedg up against a coal-shed near the river—the river which was once cov-ered with the canoes of his ancestors,and which sang soft, sad songs in theears of the sleeping Indian didnt seem inclined to talk. Perhaps hismind was overburdened
"Quad's odds"; . HAVE just returned from interview- the last Indian warrior left in Michigan. I feel sad. Once they were plenty—now they are scarce. Less than a hundred years ago the forests echoed the whoops of thousands of noble red men, and the valleys were dotted with their lodges. Now there is nary nary found the last warrior proppedg up against a coal-shed near the river—the river which was once cov-ered with the canoes of his ancestors,and which sang soft, sad songs in theears of the sleeping Indian didnt seem inclined to talk. Perhaps hismind was overburdened with the bitter memories of thepast, and he was only waiting for the shadow of deathto come and touch him and gather him to the happyhunting-grounds of his fathers. Renowned Wild Hoss, Big Moon, Setting Sun, Roar-ing Chipmunk, Howling Rabbit, or whatever your nameis, dont you feel sad? I asked as I stood before him. He didnt say. 159 160 wouldnt even When you remember back and realize that the greatand powerful tribe of Wyandottes once camped on thisspot, and that five thousand warriors, moreor less, roamed and howled and got up anddusted through this neighborhood in searchof scalps—when you remember that thesmoke of Injun camp-fires once made thiswhole State look dim—when youremember that every glade had itsscore of lodges, and that squawspicked strawberries in every val-ley—when you remember all this,doesnt it make tears come to youreyes ? He wouldnt compromise himself waiting to be answering. Where now is Pontiac ? I asked— where is Okemos,Tall Cedar, Three-fingered Jack, Humped-back Sam,Awful Charley, and the score of other great chiefs whoonce had to hire an express wagon to haul their crop ofscalps around the country ? Where are they ? He didnt even sigh. WTiere are the thirty thousand warriors wt1io once gath-ered around the council fires and felt their back hair crawl-ing up as some four-horse chief too
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Keywords: ., bookauthorquadm184, bookcentury1800, bookdecade1870, bookyear1875
