OCR Interpretation


The day book. (Chicago, Ill.) 1911-1917, March 08, 1912, Image 11

Image and text provided by University of Illinois at Urbana-Champaign Library, Urbana, IL

Persistent link: http://chroniclingamerica.loc.gov/lccn/sn83045487/1912-03-08/ed-1/seq-11/

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j- mr-' rt?'&9n&.
'Sl- T "" "te?
f&'?f$risgr&rs
him tfiat henceforward I go njy
own-way, and desire neither help
nor hindrance -from him. TelJ
him also, that if he send his
troops after me, I 'myself shall
lead the young men ofcthe Sioux
against them until the North is
red with blood.'
""'I have known Red Gjoud for
many moons,' T said. 'He is a
man.'
"She gave me a grateful look.
"They were" wedded the next
day with all the tribal ceremonies,
and anEnglish ceremony to boot
I performed that."
The 16ng man fell silent.
"'Twas a fine-beginning," said
Woodetl-1 egged Donohue, his
voiceheavy with' sarcasm. "But
how did it end? How did it
end?"f
' "Twelve years latter," said the
long man, "I was on a hunting
trip in fhe far'North. I was mak
ing camp otw the shrub-covered
shores of a lake one night, when
X heatd the sound of a womaa's
voice.
" 'You must listen. veryclose)ly
to me, O Son ofthe Eastern Star;
said the voice, 'and then you must
siqg as I sing.' .
"And then the woman's voice
lifted itself up into ,song.
"I have heard .many famous
singers. Butl never hare, heard
the like of, what I lieard that
- night,, and I never expect to
again. -
"There, from the shores of that
frozen lakeA with the crisping
sway of the. snowy pine trees for
an'qnly accompaniment, the voice
of the womanTQlled outfuj-kand ;
big, and-grandand magnificent
vand passing sweet. 4
"She sangr 'Home Sweet Home;'
and I felt the tears come into my,
eyes as Histened, and in the'mist
tht they m'ade I saw pictures I
had long forgotten. The rose-t
boweredhouse that was my home
my mother
"When the song ended, I push-
ed through the brush and came to
a little clearing. An Indian wig
wam stood m the center, I strode
oyer, and bent my head and went
in.
, "A woman was sitting in the
tent,.and her arm3 were about 'a.
little eleven-year-old boy, whose
skin was as fair and golden as
ever poet sang of, but whose wild,
sharp features' were those, of an
Indfan chief. The boy sprang a.t
me as I entered.
" Who are you?' he cried, in
his shrill voice, 'who comes in
upon my .mother without asking
permission?'
'I looked across at his golden
haired mother, and time itself
seemed to go "back to the day 'that
Red- Cloud took theLady Car
ruthers to wife. . r -
-'MYour mother is a' friend o
mine, boy,' I said. -
"The boy lookedat.ms mother
and then atrme. t
" 'Well, you-,niight have asked
if , you -could come in,' he said
petulantly.
''His mother laughedaloud,
' 'You arenotpplfte, O Son of
the, Eastern Star,' she saidj 'Per
haps my friend would like to sit
down-' .
"SftLsat:down, and .we talked
.iAJs-i
itiMaMttaaMaaaiBi

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