Then lie a bleeding, mangled mass Beside the little stream below. Their red blood stained the waving grass, The brook carnation used to flow. Yet a far more pathetic tale The Pawnees told the pioneer Of dusky maid and stripling pale Who found in death a refuge here. The youth had been a captive long, Yet failed to friendly favor find; He oft was bound with cruel thong, Yet Noma to the lad was kind. She was the chieftain's only child, As gentle as the cooing dove. Pure was this daughter of the wild; The pale-face lad had won her love. Her father, angered at her choice, Had bid'n her wed a chieftain brave; She answered with a trembling voice, "I'd rather lie within my grave." The day before the appointed eve When Wactah was to claim his bride, The maid was seen the camp to leave-- The pale-face youth was by her side. She led him to this dangerous place That on the streamlet's glee doth frown; The sunlight, gleaming on her face, Her wild, dark beauty seemed to crown. "Dear youth," exclaimed the dusky maid, "I've brought thee here thy faith to prove: If thou of death art not afraid, We'll sacrifice our lives to love." Hand linked in hand they looked below, Then, headlong, plunged adown the steep. The Pawnees from that hour of woe Have named the place The Lovers' Leap. EARLY INDIAN HISTORY BY MRS. SARAH CLAPP In 1843 Mr. and Mrs. Lester W. Platt were first engaged in missionary work among the Pawnees, and in 1857 the government set aside a tract of land thirty miles by fifteen miles, in the rich prairie soil of Nance county, for their use; and when the Indian school was established at Genoa, Mrs. Platt was made matron or superintendent. My mother taught in this school during the years 1866-67. She found the work interesting, learned much of the customs and legends of the Pawnees and grew very fond of that noble woman, Mrs. Platt, who was able to tell thrilling stories of her experiences during her mission work among the members of that tribe. At the time my mother taught in the Genoa school, the Sioux, who were the greatest enemies of the Pawnees, on account of wanting to hunt in the same territory, were supposed to be friendly with the settlers, but drove away their horses and cattle and stole everything in sight, furnishing much excitement. My father, Captain S. E. Cushing, accompanied my uncle, Major Frank North, on a number of expeditions against the hostile Indians, during the years 1869 until 1877. He was with Major North at the time of the famous charge on the village of the Cheyennes, when the notorious chief, Tall Bull, was killed by my uncle.