Image provided by: University of Oregon Libraries; Eugene, OR
About The new Northwest. (Portland, Or.) 1871-1887 | View Entire Issue (Feb. 17, 1881)
I ' ) THE NEW NORTHWEST,lrTHUBSDAr, PEBKUARY 1V18SL - i r;- TWO LOVERS. BT QwonaM Eiinr. t , ' Two lover y a rooaa-frown epilog ' J Tbey leaned soft fneeka tocelaer tber,. Mingled th dark and sunny hair; ; And heard th wooing fhruahe sing. . v - . t budding- time I O love's beat prime I ' Two wedded, from tko postal ateptj . Th bejl mad happyjcarllngs, Tb air wa eoft a fanning. w)ng ; .Wtilla.Jietala on tha pathway awepc, J.''- I i,.'. D bure-eyed brld I " " ?' . O lender'bridal - - - . , r '- Two faoea'er a eradl beot - - '.; 'i: ::r. x Two bands Shore tb batVer Jerked J i , The preeaed aarh other while they forked ; ' Thee watched a life that lor had aant, . . , O aolVrrfn hour ! ' O bidden power! ' V Twoparntatytha evenlngTJr 7 - The red light fell about their knee; 'On head that roa by alow degreea, Llke buda upon the lily a pi re. o patient Uf I - , , O (kndet atrjfe.ll. The two atlll sat together titer ; . . Tba red light ahone about their kneea, -. But all tba beada by alow degreea -.A-' 4 II ad gn and left the lonely pair. . - O voyage faat I . ' O vanished paatf Tha red light ahona about tba floor . And made'th apace between them wide; Tbey drew tbelr chair up aid by aide, Tbelr pal cbeeka Joined, and ald.One more " ' : O memorise ! . . O paat that la I ' , Wl LLO WjI G R A N G E. A Btobt of Lira in Eastern, Oreoox. rBY BELLE W. COOKE. ; V ' AVTBOI Or "Tlill A H TlCtOII.H Entered ta th Office of Librarian of Congreaaat Waaoing 1 1 ton, IX, c, in th year iwp.j CHAPTER XXIII. - ' ' . ,.,.-. , ' " la thla th way yon lend your sheep, ' Under th bay-ock faat aaleep t" . , , s. ' QTiLfarthftXitinp ALDItter-ayefitiliirliitf thia perilous time? . " Boon after Earle Russell left It to go on wht might be called by tome his "fool's errand," the friendly Indians came in to their camp and made preparations for leaving. They came to Cieave land before they went, and told him that a email band of hostile had been heard of within a few mjles, between them apd the agency, and that it was- unsafe to remain r longer in that vicinity. They stated that the ranche of a near settler bad been Invaded, hfmself shot, his wiftaand little girl taken prisoners, and the legs of many of his sheep ut off, and they left to get on as best they could on the bloody stumps. The cruel cut-throats had probably feasted dn as many as they could dispose f, and wreaked their bloody rage on 'the poor harmless creatures for the very love of destruc tion. , , - . ; - 'I. ' " :: When Bertha heard this intelligence, she was safety. She did not seem to have much fear for lierself and when CleaVelartd projtoaod that they Thoulracrora to Pilot Ilock, where he Intended to take his family immedi ately, .she stated her Intention of remaining at ' Bitter-sweet until It was time for her husband to return. ' . . ; : T" Cieaveland urged that Earle would wish them to go to a place of safety as soon asr possible, and ; would follow them directly if he came and found j . them gone, but Bertha was immovable. ...... . . What If - Earle should come back wounded T" said shefriwhajlf thejIndlans should chase him In, and we. not be here to render him assist ance? : I am sure we ought not to forsake him, for I greatly fear he will need us. 'Cannot you prevail upon the Indians to remain here until we hear from him, or perhaps go out with "you to meet him?" , " . . 'I do not think. lt advisable to, go out to meet him, for we do not 'know, In the. first place, whetherhe will, return now, and, In the second place, what road he will choose if he comes back Immediately. I think, however that the suggesr tlon about getting Ute Indians to'stay with us is a good one, as they are well armed, and would be quite a help to us if a war party should Jwake a raid upon our little valley." , When Cieaveland told the Indians that he Wished them to remain as a guard for the women and children until Earle should return, they ex pressed a willingness to do so, and said they would . send out a scout to see if there were any host lies in the vicinity. They moved their camp to a spot within a stone's throw of (he cabin where Bertha and Julia - wereremblingly-JUFaltlnff thd Htteit . denouement, ( ' The Indians seemed quite flattered by the confi dence reposed In them, and told Cieaveland that the white' squaws need not fear, as they would watch the bad Indiana, and would not suffer the to surprise the camp. N There were about ten strong meYroTlhe friendly band, and several squaws who could fight quite as well as the men In. case of newitnyr'SoTHniPT that, as Earle came riding In to the Bitter- ; gett Valley after, his fearful race with the mur dcrcus aavajes, and saw the camp of peaceful Ir-.'ins near the cabin, he understood the situs' lira at once. Ills Jirst-lmpulse, wheu-ha found that his wife and babes were unmolestedwas one of thankfuluess. " . . .' 1 Earle had not rode his horse's length into the open ground before the Indian's discovered htm and gave a loud shout, ' ' V1 Cieaveland rushed out from the cabinand, seeing the occasion, was 'not long In acquainting Bertha with the Joyful news. . She came'with little Coe in her arms and stood in the door, and, as she saw. her husband priding down' the valley alone witli his tired horae'eovered With foam,, and as he came nearer and her quick eyes espied the bloody sleeve, she knew, that her fears had no been in vain. As he approached the gater an In tuitive appreciation of, his great danger antl his escape overwbelme! her, and she fejl on, her knees with, her baby clapef to her breast; ahd cried, In low, intense tones, while. tears of Joy fell down her cheeks: ,VO my (JjhI J - I thank Thee for ray husbSnd given to me again from death's door I" '-'V- Karje saw the lovely picture, framed Lin the door way, as he looked anxiously for :thc first glimpse of-hiwlfe.-and It-male an-lmirtVIon on hi mind that after years would never efface; - He was not long in giving them an account of bis perilous ride, and of Johnny's noble self sacrifice. ' ,' . . "Ah I" ezclalmed'Bertha, "I owe rny husband's life to poor little Johnny ! I knew he was a gem In the rough, and I had hoped to help polish him." "And so you have," said Earle; "but now he needs none of our efforts to make him acceptable to the Master. He is safe with heaven's Jewels." "But can we leave his body there to be food for the mountain wolves, after what he has .done for us?" asked Bertha. v J'It-might Je there ; but perhaps the Indians would carry It off or mutilate It dreadfully," said Cieaveland. -"But I am willing to go In search of It, for our Johnny was a hero, and he deserves a Christian burial from our hands."w The friendly Indians were Informed of Earle's encounter with the hostile party, and, when tliey found that Earle and Cieaveland intended to try to recover Johnny's body, they offered to send a part of their number as an escort to the Intrepid men. They advised that the attempt should be made In the night, being themselves perfectly fa ialliar-aJth.lhe trail. and fearing thst snme-f-the- war party might be hanging around In the vi cinity. ' i The night followlng-Earle's return,' the two white men, accompanied by three Indians, started to bring In, If possible, the body of. the young hero. Bertha and JUlia'felt no fears from their Indian allies', but they realised that their situation was a precarious oue, and resolved to watch all night for the return of their husbands. The Indians I kept a guard out, and assured them that In case of an attack tbey would protect the cabin with their lives. They said, also,! that there was but little danger of an attack in the night,' as the warriors knew.it woulj be easy enough to take their vic tim In daylight. , . Cieaveland and Earle wouhl have found It Im possible to have kept the trail if it had not been for their Indian guides. But the Indian ponies were, well acquainted with It, sml thy wen! un huddled in the little towns, or going thither as fast as thev could for trotetioni A crest fear had come upon the whole region, as none could know where the next raid would be made. A small band of the hostile Indians had dared to cross the Columbia, and no ftne knew when the trouble would cease 1'esrs were entertained that the friendly Umatillas would Join the war-path, and make the whole country as far as The Dallas a dangerous ground. . . . ;: The little party who went .out.. fT plt'ssant summering were coming in now, with tears and fears for company. They arrived safelytat the Blrd's-nest, however, and found everything In the beat of order. r"- v-" Hans Schumsn had been left to sleep In the house and watch over it,, Greta coming over often to keep things nice. , The home-comers were greeted with gladness Ty triTFhelghuorsTi'ha-were-not -wl thout-gre'at fears for their safety. In fact, it began to be con sidered dangerous for isolated settlers In the Vicinity of Willow Creek; as hostile Indians had appeared on the Columbia not far from the mouth of the creek. - : . - Pooil after their return Bertha wai talking over home matters while standing at her door, when she pointed to the lambs' shed and said to Earle: "Do you know, I wish you woqldVuIl down that shed? It has such sad associations fastened upon It. I can never look at It without the memories pf thai bitter time, when you lay all night in the saoWwIth your broken leg, coming to ray mind as fresh as ever." "Well," said Earle, "I am sorry It troubles you, but what would, the poor lambs do without a shed?" "You migbtkbuili them another one. Would it not be a good place for one on the south side of the barn? I do not know but I am foolish, but that old shed gives me such sad feelings that It al most amounts to a trouble," said the wife. - (V,. ; , "If we remain here during the Winter, the shed shall come down, my dear," said Earle, "but I 4hink that perhaps it will be wiser and better to move ourselves than the shed. Many persons think there will be more widely-spread Iudlau troubles 'than any we have yet experienced, and. if such should be the case, I am not willing that my wife and babies should be exposed tojhem. " What do you say to ous-avlllHg 4Mii- part of our hePrK and leaving Cieaveland and Julia to keep house here, and manage the remainder of the flock and the horses? Would you like to goto Portland and live near your father and mother?" , "Oh, Earle, dear, do not mention It to me and then disappoint me, .You know H, would be ai miost too much happiness for me, but can you sell your sheep now?" . . . . "I should never have spoken to you if I ly4Kde'4wf-r rapl Jly, the white men following their leai." Not long after midnight, they arrived at the spot where. Jthet rail from the 'btheMdde pMhejnoun- talns Intersected the one on which they were traveling, It being a spot which was weH known to the Indlann. , " A fire was kindled, and by Its light the search for the murdered toy was pursued. They had not ong to search. He laid Just where he had fallen stark and bare, the savages having stripped him of his clothes; but they had not mutilated him. "I believe," said Earle, "that the Indian who was aiming at' me saw Johnny step lnf between me and the impending dtftth, and his admiration for the bravery and self-sacrifice of the deed caused them to spare the body the usual indignities of fered their victims." The body was soon secured upon the back of a tiorse that was brought for the purpose, and the recovering party were soon on their way return- ng.. They, passed the -dead horse Gray Eagle, who was shot the day before and lay In their path, with some difficulty, as the horses were dreadfully frightened by him ; but no other event disturbed their progress, and they arrived at the home camp a while after daylight. r -r- I - Bertha and Julia wept over the piteous sight of the pleasant face of their merry comrade, pale and still In death. His' face was 'sweetly, peaceful, even, It seemed to them, lighted by a kind of ex ulting expression, as though the spirit of heroism which had prompted his last act bad left its trace upon the noble face. The brown curls clustered over 1ils white forehead, and a smile seemed to hover around his lips. They prepared him for his rude coffin, and braided a wreath of ever greens, With wild white Immortelles, and laid it , upon his lonely grave. They burled him hear tha cabin, In a corner of the garden enclosure, Just in the shadow of the great stacks of wild new hay that they had recently cut for the use of the flocks when the Winter drew-near. And there they laid poor boy-blue "under the hay-cock," In his ast rest, "fast asleep." r-- The little company of sincere mourners left tha alley and IU one" grave as toon aa preparations could be madeV and started for Willow Grange- Earle hired soma of his faithful Indian friends to help drive his sheep and horses down to his decided it would be best to go," said Earle. "I know very well what a life of cheerful elf-denial you haveied out here, away from ajrnost all your bid familiar friends, wbnfyouleft without a word to come to-this wild with me. I think It Is a piece of unpardonable presumption for a man to ask a woman to give up all the pleasant Compan ions of her happy childhood .days and go away alone with him, and expect her to find enough in him toeompensate her fos the loss- of all the ret. I do not wonder that many, a man falls to do this in any jjlegree, and consequently, when the wife finds out hislnabillty, discontent and unhapplness foRow. I n1yWdnde in making you reasonably happy without the ac cessories, that one feeiftought, if possible, to be ad.fcdtojife." "I am sure," said Bertha, "I have been )uit4 contented and happy here with you, and the chief reason why I 'would wlah to leave here now Is that you might not.be exposed to so many dan gers.' fTo be contlnuei.l- Too ArTrvE.YourJittleson Is perhaps trouble some. . He is never quiet, and constantly demands attention. How shall 'you abate this, nuisance? You may try to destroy these bad habits by scold ing him, by rebukes, by lectures, by punishments. That Is one way, bSi not the best 'These bad habits often spring from an instinct of activity, an I nlelfse-desire to do something, which the Creator has given the child as a means of mental and moral growth. In trying to pull up the tares, you are In great danger of rooting out the wheat also. If you succeed by force In changing bis dis agreeable torment of perpetual activity into a dull quiet, you have changed, a bright boy into a dull one7A "belter way than. destroying this tendency Is to fulfill it by giving him plentv of occupation of an innocent kind.. Give him a neap of sand to dig. blocks of wood to build houses with, a box of tools, and boards to saw. Bet him at some work, useful or interesting, or, at least, harmless. He will like all this better than he likes mischief. All his Irregular activity was a cry for something to do. Give him that, and you will have no further trouble. ' It Is the cheery worker that succeeds. . No one can do his best, or even do well, In the midst of worry or nagging. .Wherefore, U you . work, work as cheerlly.as you-can. If you do not work, do not put even a straw In the way of others. There are rocks and pebbles and holes and plenty of obstructions. , It Is the pleasant word, the hearty word, that helps, and a man who has these at command Is sure to be a helper to others In the highway of life, along which so many are travelers. "Etiquette" writes to us to Inquire If In our opinion It would be proper for him to support a young lady If she was taken with a faint even if he hadn't, been introduced."" Proper, young man. prop er pj sh xncena., ct F f,f . .Professor Roberts says that fifty bushels of wood aaha rw Innrsaajwl tha v!l4 rt m.. t . home, and paid them well for their Uboiv-AU fCTrUln location mnr than any other, manure, tha way they found tha settlers In a (rand panle, I while ground bona Improved tha clover.- " THE MOUND-BUILDERS. , , j- Thrbughoiit a large portion of the Mississippi Valley the remains of a former race of Inhabitants are found,-of whose origin and history We have no record, and whoare only known to us by the relics that are found In the tumuli which they have left . The mound-builders .were a numerous people entirely distinct from the North American Indians, and tbey lived so long before the latter I that they are, Hot .known to them even by tradi tion. They were' Industrious and domestic In their habits, and the finding of large sea-shells, which must have been, brought from the Gulf of' Mexico, if not from more -dlstant-shopes. proves that they had communication -and trade with other tribes. Perhaps the" most nterestlngfact" roiiSieeted with this ancient people is-that they, had a wrlttert!aii'guage. This is proved by some inscribed tablets that have been discovered in the mounds, the most imitortantof which belong to the I)avenport Academy . of Sciences. " These tablets have attracted great attention from archte ololsts; and it is thought that they will sometime ' prove of "great value as records of the people who"" wrote them. It -is still uncertain whether the -language was generally understood by the mound builders, or .whether. Itwasonfined to.a few. per- sons of hiirh rank. In the mound where two of the tablets were dtscoveredrthe bones of a child were found, partially preserved by contact with a large number of coper beads, and as coper was a rare and precious metal with them, It would seem that the mound In question was used for burial of persons of high rank. The Inscriptions have not been" 'deciphered, for no key to them has yet been found; we are totally Ignorant of the derivation of the language or Its affinities for other written languages. The mound-builders lived while the -mammoth and the mastodon were upon t be earth, as is clearly proved by the carvings upon some of their elaborate stone pipes.' From-the size and other peculiarities of the pipes, It is inferred that smoking was not habitual with them, but that it " was reserved as a kind of ceremonial observance. Our knowledge of the habits and custom's of the mound-builders Is very Incomplete, but it Is suffi cient to show that at least a part of this country was once inhabited by a people who have passed , . away without leaving so much as a tradition of their existence, and who are only known to us through the silent relics which have been' Interred r : for centuries. A people utterly forgotten, a elvlir " Ization totally lost was It through a great catas-r- tronhe In the history of the world, or was the ceatfelea&-struggle for ex Isteuce so severe that they : gradually succumbed r and passed .away 7iVeur York Timet. . - The Bias oe Wealth. Wealth Is extremely deceitful in the Impression which it gives of the moral character oMts Poessqr, JIiie.jnanoL weaTttriwks on Til mstfir"fira'l)ecullarril(rhtlle . feels' tliat he is more or less a privileged person ; that he is not to be guided by the ordinary rules. 'His benefactions perhaps' appear larire. thousrh they are not at all large when measured (the only true standard r by hlslneans. He elves a hundred dollars, and he feels that he has done nobly, though to him a hundred dollars Is far less than a dollar, or even than a dime, to him of labor and it u uk latU'f tflvtitf even sol neans the sacrifice of something: tthe former. the giving of $100 means nothing. Yet he prides himself upon it And, whatisjqjiUe-as badVhig neighbors, perhaps themselves blinded or dazzled,':" unite In deceiving him. If the mechanic or seam stress gives a dollar, it. is received with treat calmness; but the dollar of the rich rrfan is re ceived oftentimes with gushing and effusive grat itude, juciies are not only themselves deceitful, but they seWe to foster deeeitfulncss In others. - aMaMwtaMMM Photographs is Natural Colors. The an nouncement Is again made thai a process has been oiscovereii -bTrnr em is again made thai a .process has been nlfor taking- phntnfrraj .mi.aaliifi ancy and delicacy of the natural-colors, and an exhibition of pictures thus naturally col- j red has Just been held in London. - According to phe reioTt( the colorsjire.pjroduccd Jbyutha action-- iik1 mviix iu me fainem, ami pwe noming i whatever to the artist's ' brush. In the Photo- rAiiiuiirut nio lviuiiii)( NirarVU HI IMS quite true to nature, and delicate tones and shades" were clear to the viewx The flesh tint was exact to life, and fuji tmtlce was done to gorgeous regi mentals. The protruded tonirue of a door in one of the photographs possessed the exact color lof nature. The process-Was discovered lv a French scientist, but nas since undergone Improvement by the proprietor of the patent for England. Un fortunately, It Is as yet unknown, and itls likely to ue wr suiue nine 10 come. -j.,.. . : ,tu The height of the human fitrure Is six times tl length of the feet Whether the form is slender or plump, the rule. holds good: any, deviation from it is a departure from the highest beauty in proportion. :t The Greeks made all their statutes after this rule. The face, from the highest point of the forehead, where the hair bt-o-ins. to -i tire chin i one-tenth of the whole stature. The hand, from the wrist to the end of thQ middle finger. Is the same. 'From the top.of the chest to the highest point of the forehead, is a sevenm. 11 ine lace, rnm the roots or the hair, to the chin, be divided Into three eoual parts, the: first division determines the place where the. eye- uruwa meet, anu me secona ine place or tne nos trils. The heiirht from the feet to the ton of the head. is the distance between the extremitv of the fingers when the arms are extended. '. .- , In the city of Dublin, there are 24.000 families. averaging five members, that are each living In a single room. The death rate of the city Is 40 per 1000, Which Is equal to 60 per 1000 In the tene toent house districts. These two facts, the enor mous number of families living Irfa single rooni and the high death rate, prove that the horrors) and dangers of Irish distress have not been ex4 aggerated. . These families of five shut up each ii amine room aeoena ror sunnort on wares rroi ten is seventeen shillings a week. 3 The manufacture of paper from wood has reached the altitude of perfection In Canada. The superintendent of a mill up there says a tree Is cut down and shoved Into one end of the mill, and five minutes later there Is a neighbor at tha other end to borrow the paper. " A milk contractor In Boston ssvs he Is making more money by manufacturing his surplus milk Into buUer and xiieeae .than he dldby his sales of milk.. - ,.: . - A rash sUilaticUn asserts that there are to-day-thousand Chlcasoans wearing drlasa eves, one third of them being women I, --.r .