New National Fourth Reader by Charles J. Barnes and J. Marshall Hawkes

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* * * * *

LESSON LVII.

declin'ing, _failing_.

expe'rience, _that which happens to any one_.

regard', _look at; consider_.

robust', _sound in health_.

ben'efit ed, _made better; helped_.

intense', _extreme_.

moc'ca sin, _a kind of shoe made of deer-skin_.

tem'po ra ry, _for a time_.

pe cul'iar, _strange; unusual_.

in tel'li gent, _showing good sense_.

* * * * *

A STORY OF THE SIOUX WAR.

PART I.

In the summer of 1862, while we were living in the State of Minnesota, I
had an experience which I regard as one of the most remarkable that I
ever met with.

We lived at Lac Qui Parle, or rather quite close to it, for we were
about a mile from the place.

There were only three of us--father, mother, and myself. We had moved to
Minnesota three years before, the main object of my parents being to
restore their health; for they were feeble and needed a change of
climate.

The first year, both father and mother were much benefited; but not long
after, father began to fail.

I remember that he used to take his chair out in front of the house in
pleasant weather and sit there, with his eyes turned toward the blue
horizon, or into the depths of the vast wilderness which was not more
than a stone's throw from our door.

Mother would sometimes go out and sit beside father, and they would talk
long and earnestly in low tones. I was too young to understand all this
at the time, but it was not long afterward that I learned the truth.

Father was steadily and surely declining in health; but mother had
become strong and robust, and her disease seemed to have left her
altogether. She tried to encourage father, and really believed his
weakness was only temporary.

Scarcely a day passed that I did not see some of the Sioux Indians who
were scattered through that portion of the State. In going to, and
coming from the agency, they would sometimes stop at our house.

Father was very quick in picking up languages, and he was able to
converse quite easily with the red men.

How I used to laugh to hear them talk in their odd language, which
sounded to me just as if they were grunting at each other.

But the visits used to please father and mother, and I was always glad
to see some of the rather ragged and not over-clean warriors stop at the
house.

I remember one hot day in June, when father was sitting under a tree in
front of the house, and I was inside helping mother, we heard the
peculiar noises which told us that father had an Indian visitor. We both
went to the door, and I passed outside to laugh at their queer talk.

Sure enough, an Indian was seated in the other chair, and he and father
were talking with great animation.

The Indian was of a stout build, and wore a straw hat with a broad, red
band around it; he had on a fine, black broad-cloth coat, but his
trousers were shabby and his shoes were pretty well worn.

His face was bright and intelligent, and I watched it very closely as he
talked in his earnest way with father, who was equally animated in
answering him.

The Indian carried a rifle and a revolver--the latter being in plain
sight at his waist--but I never connected the thought of danger with
him as he sat there talking with father.

I describe this Indian rather closely, as he was no other than the
well-known chief, Little Crow, who was at the head of the frightful
Sioux war, which broke out within sixty days from that time.

The famous chieftain staid until the sun went down. Then he started up
and walked away rapidly in the direction of Lac Qui Parle. Father called
good-by to him, but he did not reply and soon disappeared in the woods.

The sky was cloudy, and it looked as if a storm was coming; so, as it
was dark and blustering, we remained within doors the rest of the
evening. A fine drizzling rain began to fall, and the darkness was
intense.

The evening was well advanced, and father was reading to us, when there
came a rap upon the door.

It was so gentle and timid that it sounded like the pecking of a bird,
and we all looked in the direction of the door, uncertain what it
meant.

"It is a bird, scared by the storm," said father, "and we may as well
admit it."

I sat much nearer the door than either of my parents, and instantly
started up and opened it. As I did so, I looked out into the gloom, but
sprung back the next moment with a low cry of alarm.

"What's the matter?" asked father, hastily laying down his book and
walking rapidly toward me.

"It isn't a bird; it's a person." As I spoke, a little Indian girl,
about my own age, walked into the room, and looking in each of our
faces, asked in the Sioux language whether she could stay all night.

I closed the door and we gathered around her. She had the prettiest,
daintiest moccasins, but her limbs were bare from the knee downward. She
wore a large shawl about her shoulders, while her coarse, black hair
hung loosely below her waist.

Her face was very pretty, and her eyes were as black as coal and seemed
to flash fire whenever she looked upon any one.

Of course, her clothing was dripping with moisture, and her call filled
us all with wonder. She could speak only a few words of English, so her
face lighted up with pleasure when father addressed her in the Sioux
language.

As near as we could find out, her name was Chitto, and she lived with
her parents at Lac Qui Parle. She told us that there were several
families in a spot by themselves, and that day they had secured a
quantity of strong drink, of which they were partaking very freely.

At such times Indians are dangerous, and Little Chitto was terrified
almost out of her senses. She fled through the storm and the darkness,
not caring where she went, but only anxious to get away from the
dreadful scene.

Entering, without any intention on her part, the path in the woods, she
followed it until she saw in the distance the glimmer of the light in
our window, when she hastened to the house and asked for admission.

I need scarcely say it was gladly granted. My mother removed the damp
clothes from the little Sioux girl, and replaced them with some warm,
dry ones belonging to me. At the same time she gave her hot, refreshing
tea, and did every thing to make her comfortable.

I removed the little moccasins from the wondering Chitto's feet, kissed
her dark cheeks, and, as I uttered expressions of pity, though in an
unknown tongue, I am quite sure that they were understood by Chitto, who
looked the gratitude she could not express.

She soon began to show signs of drowsiness and was put to bed with me,
falling asleep as soon as her head touched the pillow.

I lay awake a little longer and noticed that the storm had ceased. The
patter of the rain was heard no more upon the roof, and the wind blew
just as it sometimes does late in the fall. At last I sunk into a sound
sleep.

* * * * *

Language Lesson.--Let pupils write a short letter to some friend,
taking as a subject, "A Visit from Little Crow," as given on pages 272
and 273.[16]

Let pupils add _y_ to each of the following words, make such other
changes as may be necessary, and then define them.

earth air fire water sleep

rain rust fun fur stick

What two words double their final letter before adding _y_? _Fiery_,
from _fire_, is irregular in spelling.

[16] This lesson.

* * * * *

LESSON LVIII.

de'mons, _spirits; evil spirits_.

groped, _found one's way by feeling with the hands_.

pre'vi ous, _going before in time; preceding_.

in clined', _leaning towards; disposed_.

dis tract'ed, _confused by grief_.

ex pired', _died_.

stat'ue, _a figure carved to represent a living being_.

stag'gered, _walked with trembling steps_.

as cer tained', _found out by inquiring_.

re tain', _keep possession of_.

* * * * *

A STORY OF THE SIOUX WAR.

PART II.

I awoke in the morning and saw the rays of the sun entering the window.
Recalling the incidents of the previous evening, I turned to speak to my
young friend.

To my surprise she was gone, and supposing she had risen a short time
before, I hurriedly dressed myself and went down stairs to help keep her
company.

But she was not there, and father and mother had seen nothing of her.
She had no doubt risen in the night and gone quietly away.

There was something curious and touching in the fact that she had groped
about in the darkness, until she found her own clothing, which she put
on and departed without taking so much as a pin that belonged to us.

We all felt a strong interest in Chitto, and father took me with him a
few days later when he visited Lac Qui Parle. He made many inquiries for
the little girl, but could learn nothing about her.

I felt very much disappointed, for I had built up strong hopes of taking
her out home with me to spend several days.

Father and I went a number of times afterward, and always made an effort
to discover Chitto; but we did not gain any knowledge of her.

On the afternoon of August 19, father was sitting in his accustomed seat
in front of the house, and mother was engaged, as usual about her
household duties. I was playing and amusing myself as a girl of my age
is inclined to do at all times.

The day was sultry and close, and I remember that father was unusually
pale and weak. He coughed a great deal, and sat for a long time so still
that I thought he must be asleep.

"Mother," said I, "what is that smoke yonder?"

I pointed in the direction of Lac Qui Parle. She saw a dark column of
smoke floating off in the horizon, its location being such, that there
could be no doubt that it was at the Agency.

"There is a fire of some kind there," she said, while she shaded her
eyes with her hand and gazed long and earnestly in that direction.

"The Indians are coming, Edward," she called to father; "they will be
here in a few minutes!"

Suddenly, a splendid black horse came galloping from the woods, and with
two or three powerful bounds, halted directly in front of me. As it did
so, I saw that the bareback rider was a small girl, and she was our
little Sioux friend, Chitto.

She made a striking picture, with her long, black hair streaming over
her shoulders, and her dress fluttering in the wind.

"Why, Chitto," said I, in amazement, "where did you come from?"

"Must go--must go--must go!" she exclaimed, in great excitement. "Indian
soon be here!"

So it seemed that, in the few weeks since she had been at our house,
she had picked up enough of the English language to make herself
understood.

"What do you mean?" asked mother, as she and I advanced to the side of
the black steed upon which the little Sioux sat; "what are the Indians
doing?"

"They burn buildings--have killed people--coming this way!"

Chitto spoke the truth, for the Sioux were raging like demons at that
very hour at Lac Qui Parle.

"What shall we do, Chitto?" asked my mother.

"Get on horse--he carry you."

"But my husband; the horse can not carry all three of us."

My poor distracted mother scarcely knew what to do. All this time father
sat like a statue in his chair. A terrible suspicion suddenly entered
her mind, and she ran to him.

Placing her hand upon his shoulder, she addressed him in a low tone, and
then uttered a fearful shriek, as she staggered backward, saying: "He is
dead! he is dead!"

Such was the fact. The shock of the news brought by the little Indian
girl was too much, and he had expired in his chair without a struggle.
The wild cry which escaped my mother was answered by several whoops from
the woods, and Chitto became frantic with terror.

"Indian be here in minute!" said she.

Mother instantly helped me upon the back of the horse and then followed
herself. She was a skillful rider, but she allowed Chitto to retain the
bridle, and we started off.

Looking back I saw a half-dozen Sioux horsemen come out of the woods and
start on a trot toward us.

Just then Chitto spoke to the horse, and he bounded off at a terrible
rate, never halting until he had gone two or three miles.

Then, when we looked back, we saw nothing of the Indians, and the horse
was brought down to a walk; and finally, when the sun went down, we
entered a dense wood, where we staid all night.

I shall not attempt to describe those fearful hours. Not one of us slept
a wink. Mother sat weeping over the loss of father, while I was
heart-broken, too.

Chitto, like the Indian she was, kept on the move continually. Here and
there she stole as noiselessly through the wood as a shadow, while
playing the part of sentinel.

At daylight we all fell into a feverish slumber, which lasted several
hours. When we awoke, we were hungry and miserable.

Seeing a settler's house in the distance, Chitto offered to go to it for
food. We were afraid she would get into trouble, but she was sure there
was no danger and went.

In less than an hour she was back again with an abundance of bread. She
said there was no one in the house, and we supposed the people had
become alarmed and escaped.

We staid where we were for three days, during which time we saw a party
of Sioux warriors burn the house where Chitto had obtained the food for
us.

It seemed to mother that the Indians would not remain at Lac Qui Parle
long, and that we would be likely to find safety there. Accordingly, she
induced Chitto to start on the return.

When we reached our house nothing was to be seen of father's body; but
we soon, discovered a newly-made grave, where we had reason to believe
he was buried.

As was afterward ascertained, he had been given a decent burial by
orders of Little Crow himself, who, doubtless, would have protected us,
had we awaited his coming.

We rode carefully through the woods, and when we came out on the other
side, our hearts were made glad by the sight of the white tents of
United States soldiers. Colonel Sibley was encamped at Lac Qui Parle,
and we were safe at last.

Chitto disappeared from this post in the same sudden manner as before;
but I am happy to say that I have seen her several times since. Mother
and I were afraid her people would punish her for the part she took in
helping us, but they did not.

Probably the friendship which Little Crow showed toward our family, may
have had something to do with the gentle treatment which the Indians
showed her.

* * * * *

Language Lesson.--Supply the words omitted from the following
sentences.

"Must go! Indian soon be here!"

"Indian be here in minute!"

Let pupils make out an _analysis_ for the subject--

"Our Second Visit from Chitto,"

and use it in giving that part of the story in their own words.

* * * * *

LESSON LIX.

e mit', _send forth_.

con'trast, _difference in form or appearance_.

molt'en, _melted_.

con'ic al, _having the shape of a cone_.

vol'umes, _quantities; masses_.

char'ac ter, _kind; formation_.

del'uge, _flood; drown_.

com pre hen'sion, _the power of the mind to understand_.

ap pall'ing, _terrifying_.

grand'eur, _majesty; vastness of size_.

lu'rid, _gloomy; dismal_.

tre men'dous, _terrific; awful_.

* * * * *

VOLCANOES.

In various parts of the earth, there are mountains that send out from
their highest peaks, smoke, ashes, and fire.

Mountains of this class are called volcanoes, and they present a
striking contrast to other mountains, on account of their conical form
and the character of the rocks of which they are composed.

All volcanoes have at their summits what are called craters. These are
large, hollow, circular openings, from which the smoke and fire escape.

Nearly all volcanoes emit smoke constantly. This smoke proceeds from
fires that are burning far down in the depths of the earth.

Sometimes these fires burst forth from the crater of the volcano with
tremendous force. The smoke becomes thick and black, and lurid flames
shoot up to a height of hundreds of feet, making a scene of amazing
grandeur.

[Illustration]

With the flames there are thrown out stones, ashes, and streams of
melted rock, called lava. This lava flows down the sides of the
mountain, and, being red-hot, destroys every thing with which it comes
in contact. At such times, a volcano is said to be in eruption.

A volcanic eruption is generally preceded by low, rumbling sounds, and
trembling of the earth's surface. Then follows greater activity of the
volcano, from which dense volumes of smoke and steam issue, and fire and
molten lava make their appearance.

Such is the force of some of these eruptions, that large rocks have been
hurled to great distances from the crater, and towns and cities have
been buried under a vast covering of ashes and lava.

The quantity of lava and ashes which sometimes escapes from volcanoes
during an eruption, is almost beyond comprehension.

In 1772, a volcano in the island of Java, threw out ashes and cinders
that covered the ground fifty feet deep, for a distance of seven miles
all around the mountain. This eruption destroyed nearly forty towns and
villages.

In 1783, a volcano in Iceland sent out two streams of lava; one forty
miles long and seven miles wide, and the other fifty miles long and
fifteen miles wide. These streams were from one hundred to six hundred
feet deep.

Near the city of Naples, Italy, is situated the volcano Mt. Vesuvius.
This fiery monster has probably caused more destruction than any other
volcano known.

In the year 79 A.D., it suddenly burst forth in a violent eruption, that
resulted in one of the most appalling disasters that ever happened.

Such immense quantities of ashes, stones, and lava were poured forth
from its crater, that within the short space of twenty hours, two large
cities were completely destroyed. These cities were Herculaneum and
Pompeii.

At this eruption of Vesuvius, the stream of lava flowed directly through
and over the city of Herculaneum into the sea. The quantity was so great
that, as it cooled and became hardened, it gradually filled up all the
streets and ran over the tops of the houses.

While the lava was thus turning the city into a mass of solid stone,
the inhabitants were fleeing from it along the shore toward Naples, and
in boats on the sea.

At the same time, too, the wind carried the ashes and cinders in such a
direction as to deluge the city of Pompeii.

Slowly and steadily the immense volume of ashes and small stones,
blocked up the streets and settled on the roofs of houses.

The light of the flames that burst out from the awful crater, aided the
people in their escape; but many who for some reason could not get away,
perished.

Pompeii was so completely covered that, nothing could be seen of it.
Thus it remained buried under the ground until the year 1748, when it
was discovered by accident.

Since that time much of the city has been uncovered, and now one can
walk along the streets, look into the houses, and form some idea how the
people lived there eighteen hundred years ago.

* * * * *

_Language Lesson_.--Let pupils write an account of a supposed journey
from their homes to Naples, telling about the route they would take, and
the particulars as to time and distance. Be very particular about
handwriting, spelling, punctuation, and capital letters.

* * * * *

LESSON LX.

coot, _a water-bird_.

hern (her'on), _a wading bird_.

ed'dying, _moving in small circles_.

mal'low, _a kind of plant_.

bick'er, _move quickly; quarrel_.

fal'low, _plowed land_.

gray'ling, _a kind of fish_.

cress'es, _a kind of water-plant_.

sal'ly, _a rushing or bursting forth_.

thorps, _villages_.

bram'bly, _full of rough shrubs_.

* * * * *

THE BROOK.

I come from haunts of coot and hern,
I make a sudden sally,
And sparkle out among the fern,
To bicker down a valley.

By thirty hills I hurry down,
Or slip between the ridges,
By twenty thorps, a little town,
And half a hundred bridges.

Till last by Philip's farm I flow
To join the brimming river,
For men may come, and men may go,
But I go on forever.

I chatter over stony ways,
In little sharps and trebles,
I bubble into eddying bays,
I babble on the pebbles.

With many a curve my bank I fret
By many a field and fallow,
And many a fairy foreland set
With willow-wood and mallow.

I chatter, chatter, as I flow
To join the brimming river,
For men may come, and men may go,
But I go on forever.

I wind about, and in and out,
With here a blossom sailing,
And here and there a lusty trout,
And here and there a grayling.

And here and there a foamy flake
Upon me, as I travel
With many a silvery waterbreak
Above the golden gravel.

And draw them all along, and flow
To join the brimming river,
For men may come, and men may go,
But I go on forever.

I steal by lawns and grassy plots,
I slide by hazel covers;
I move the sweet forget-me-nots
That grow for happy lovers.

I slip, I slide, I gloom, I glance,
Among my skimming swallows;
I make the netted sunbeam dance
Against my sandy shallows.

I murmur under moon and stars
In brambly wildernesses;
I linger by my shingly bars;
I loiter round my cresses.

And out again I curve and flow
To join the brimming river,
For men may come, and men may go,
But I go on forever.

* * * * *

Directions for Reading.--Point out the places in the poem where two
lines should be joined in reading.

Mark the _inflection_ of the following lines.

"I slip, I slide, I gloom, I glance,
Among my skimming swallows."

"For men may come, and men may go,
But I go on forever."

Read the last two lines, and state whether the _inflected words_ are
also _emphatic words_.

Find a similar example of _inflection_ and _emphasis_ upon the same
words in the last stanza of Lesson XXXVI.

* * * * *

Language Lesson.--Let pupils explain the meaning of the following
expressions.

_Join the brimming river_.

_Netted sunbeam_.

* * * * *

LESSON LXI.

de terred', _kept from_.

en'ter prise, _an undertaking_.

im'ple ments, _articles used in a trade_.

sur vey'ing, _measuring land_.

in'di cated, _showed; pointed out_.

re clin'ing, _partly lying down_.

re lease', _let go_.

con clu'sion, _final decision_.

suc ces'sion, _following one after another_.

hur'ri cane, _a high wind_.

an'ec dote, _incident; story_.

com pact', _closely put together_.

* * * * *

ANECDOTE OF WASHINGTON.

PART I

It was a calm, sunny day in the year 1750; the scene, a piece of forest
land in the north of Virginia, near a noble stream of water.

Implements of surveying were lying about, and several men reclining
under the trees, indicated by their dress and appearance, that they were
engaged in laying out the wild lands of the country.

These persons had just finished their dinner. Apart from the group
walked a young man of a tall and compact frame, who moved with the firm
and steady tread of one accustomed to constant exercise in the open air.

His face wore a look of decision and manliness not usually found in one
so young, for he was but little over eighteen years of age.

Suddenly there was a shriek, then another, and then several more in
rapid succession. The voice was that of a woman, and seemed to proceed
from the other side of a small piece of wooded land.

At the first scream, the youth turned his head in the direction of the
sound; but when it was repeated, he pushed aside the undergrowth and
soon dashed into an open space on the banks of the stream, where stood a
small log-cabin.

As the young man broke from the undergrowth, he saw his companions
crowded together on the banks of the river, while in their midst stood a
woman, from whom proceeded the shrieks he had heard. She was held by two
of the men, but was struggling to free herself.

The instant the woman saw the young man, she exclaimed, "O sir, you will
do something for me! Make them release me. My boy--my poor boy is
drowning, and they will not let me go!"

"It would be madness; she will jump into the river," said one of the
men, "and the rapids would dash her to pieces in a moment!"

The youth had scarcely waited for these words; for he remembered the
child, a bold little boy four years of age, whose beautiful blue eyes
and flaxen ringlets made him a favorite with every one.

He had been accustomed to play in the little inclosure before the cabin;
but the gate having been left open, he had stolen out, reached the edge
of the bank, and was in the act of looking over, when his mother saw
him.

The shriek she uttered only hastened the accident she feared; for the
child, frightened at the cry of his mother, lost his balance and fell
into the stream, which here went foaming and roaring along among rocks
and dangerous rapids.

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