Jasper County Democrat, Volume 20, Number 67, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 21 November 1917 — INDIAN SUMMER [ARTICLE]

INDIAN SUMMER

You have heard that ancjent legend How the gnarled old Indian chieftain Sits and broods and smokes his Clay pipe In these golden days at even. And I like to think that chieftain Is the great renowned Tecumseh, Brave and shrewd, and feared by white men I Loved, obeyed by all his people. See him crouching round the camp fire With the others at the council; Grave, aloof from curious question, Wrinkled, bent from former conquest. Silent sits he in the firelight Seeing visions in the bright flames Of his lands, possessed by white men. Tilled and yielding wealth to white men. Thinks he of the golden Shawnee, Rolling, beauteous fields of Shawnee; Of the prairie of the Wea, Rich and fertile, wide of bosom. Over all he once had power Where the deer and elk and bison, Starting at his stealthy stalking Fell —swift target for his arrow. But the white men, strong in number Came to wrest him from his kingdom, Overcame his daughty warriors, Won the land rom his possession. So he sits these days of autumn E’er the year turns to the winter, E’er it faces toward the biting Of the snows and of the north wind. And his spirit roams the prairies Where he once held full dominion, And the smoke from the clay pipe, Pungent, sweet and all pervading Wraps one in a magic blanket, Gay and bright as gown of warrior, All things happy seem and hopeful, Rose-hued, brilliant seems the future. And the chief, forgetting meanwhile Sternness of his former manner. Smiles, and o’er the- glorious landscape Steals the sunshine of his laughter. So returns the chief in triumph, Claims the season as reminder Of his former power and freedom. Knows that he is not forgetten; Knows that always shall it be thus i Every season without railure, i Coming from his kingly dwelling In the land of the hereafter. —Lois F. Miller.