THE
CHEM AW A
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well be proud, symbolizing an epoch in her history which the city does
well to commemorate.
The unveiling of the statue was a fitting climax to the first act in the
splendid historical drama which tells the story of this young metropolis
of the far Northwest. It follows logically upon the meager opening
lines of the drama, when, sixty-one years ago yesterday, Arthur A.
Denny and his little company of twenty-four, half of them children,
were landed at Alki Point, in what is now West Seattle. There they
stood, huddled together on an unfriendly shore, in a drizzling rain,
and watched the little schooner that had brought them from the South
sail away. Alone they stood in primeval solitude, the dark, impenetra
ble forest behind them, the tossing sea before, as lonely and forsaken
a group of brave, determined souls as ever wrested a wilderness from
unconquered nature.
Gazing upon the bronze figure of Chief Seattle in his imposing grand
eur, the dull roar of commerce faded from my ears, the city itself was
swept aside, and I saw again that lonely little company of pioneers
grouped among the big boles of firs and cedar, the winds from the ocean
moaning in the dark boughs overhead, the stillness of the forest itself
a menace to their awakened imaginings.
I saw again those forest shadows parted by skulking forms of half-
naked savages, heard their muttered ejaculations of surprise and anger
at this intrusion upon their sacred domain. I saw the blanched face of
the mother with a babe at her breast as she caught sight of those black,
beadlike eyes peering at her out of the somber shadows. I saw the men
grip the stocks of their rifles and prepare to protect their loved ones to
the death.
Then out from the aisles of the big bodied trees I saw come with
majestic stride the mighty chieftain of six conquering tribes, the light
of wisdom and love upon his face, his hand raised in sign of peace and
succor.
Then the vision passed. The city was rebuilded. Again the roar of
commerce filled my ears, again the people stood in crowds about the
beautiful bronze figure lifted against the horizon, again the hum of
human voices filled my ears and I saw what sixty-one years of civiliza
tion had done here, and knew what Denny and his pioneers had done
on that cold November day was great beyond the power of words to
utter. I knew, too, that Seattle, the savage chieftain, unlettered, with
none to teach him the blessings of brotherhood, was in himself a truly
great soul, a man to be honored, and on2 whose acts and deeds will be
an inspiration to all future generations.
Chief Seattle is gone. But the lesson of his life remains. An untu
tored savage, he ruled even his own people in peace and kindness.