The call of the passing race, in verse and prose . THE HILL OF THE DEAD. The hill of the dead now stands, to tellOf the spot where once a thousand hill was made by friend and foe;Of earth, each passerby would throw. Outagamie, a forgotten name,As Chief he fell, to rule the not all dead, our people soul commands, and will us guide. Now, of my tribe, I am the honor those who long hav^e earth, from my own grave, to-day,I scatter where my people lay.

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Keywords: ., bookcentury1900, bookdecade191, booksubjectindiansofnorthamerica