The Boy Settlers: A Story of Early Times in Kansas — John Shaqi
The Boy Settlers: A Story of Early Times in KansasBrooks, Noah
General
The Boy Settlers: A Story of Early Times in Kansas
Brooks, Noah
Frontier and pioneer life -- Juvenile fiction; Kansas -- Juvenile fiction
"We are still on the Delaware Indian reservation," replied his uncle.
"The Government has given the tribe a big tract of land here and away
up to the Kaw. They've been here for years, and they are good farmers,
I should say, judging from the looks of things hereabouts."
Just then, as if to explain matters, a decent-looking man, dressed in
the rude fashion of the frontier, but in civilized clothes, came out
of the cabin, and, pipe in mouth, stared not unkindly at the passing
wagon and its party.
"Howdy," he civilly replied to a friendly greeting from Mr. Howell.
The boys knew that "How" was a customary salutation among Indians, but
"Howdy" struck them as being comic; Sandy laughed as he turned away
his face. Mr. Bryant lingered while the slow-moving oxen plodded their
way along the road, and the boys, too, halted to hear what the
dark-skinned man had to say. But the Indian--for he was a "civilized"
Delaware--was a man of very few words. In answer to Mr. Bryant's
questions, he said he was one of the chiefs of the tribe; he had been
to Washington to settle the terms of an agreement with the Government;
and he had lived in that cabin six years, and on the present
reservation ever since it was established.
All this information came out reluctantly, and with as little use of
vital breath as possible. When they had moved on out of earshot, Oscar
expressed his decided opinion that that settler was no more like James
Fenimore Cooper's Indians than the lovely Quindaro appeared to be.
"Why, did you notice, father," he continued, "that he actually had on
high-heeled boots? Think of that! An Indian with high-heeled boots!
Why, in Cooper's novels they wear moccasins, and some of them go
barefoot. These Indians are not worthy of the name."
"You will see more of the same sort before we get to the river," said
his father. "They have a meeting-house up yonder, by the fork of the
road, I am told. And, seeing that this is our first day out of camp on
the last stage of our journey, suppose we stop for dinner at Indian
John's, Aleck? It will be a change from camp-fare, and they say that
John keeps a good table."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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