Clemson University - Taps Yearbook (Clemson, SC)

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48 THE CLEMSON COLLEGE CHRONICLE. luck would smile upon him, his revelry was suddenly ended by a low moan. Not till then had he thought of Lucy, but now he staggered to her room. Kneeling by the open window, the soft rays of the moon falling in silvery waves upon her long, untied hair, clad in white and with folded hands, breathing a prayer for her brother ' s soul, was his sister. He staggered more as it seemed from being ushered into the presence of one who seemed transformed from the living to one of God ' s Angels. He stood and watched the still kneeling figure, then crossed the room and kneeling, placed his arm about his sister, while his he art tones blended with earnest prayer, in thanks for her love and forgiveness of his wrongs. The whippoorwill whistled more softly, the cool breeze blew the perfume of roses and violets about the room ;the gray mists floated lazily about the mountain tops, while God smiled down on the saver and the saved. F. G. D., ' 02. An Indian Hartyr. Chulochculla ' s treaty with the Great King had been broken, and the whole Cherokee Nation was preparing for a general massacre of the frontier settlements to avenge the horrible butchery of the Indian prisoners at Fort Prince George. Messengers were hurrying from town to town, the women were chanting their war songs, and the warriors were covering themselves with their hideous war paints; but the brave young chief, Wisuska, had been sitting by his wigwam fire all day. Late in the afternoon, the great sachem came in and said, What makes the brave young chief sit by his fire when the sun shines warm ? Is he sick ? Wisuska knew that he had already been accused of being the pale-face ' s

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THE CIvEMSON COLLEGE CHRONICLE. 347 Why He Stopped. Nestled among the hazy mountains of North Carolina, lies the little town of M . It is not what one would call a regular summer resort, but still transient drummers and even a few summer boarders do occasionally arrive. On the memorable 4th of July of which I write, as the great steel horse paused as for breath, amid the cries of hackmen, a young girl of about eighteen summers, accom- panied by her brother, descended from the rear platform of the sleeper. John, the brother, was a healthy, well developed boy, but lacked the winning ways and tender grace of his sister Lucy. They were whirled away to the hotel where new friends were soon met. Weeks went by in happy freedom, until the frequent drinking of the brother marred the sister ' s happiness. His drinking was soon followed by bad company and cards, bringing sorrow and misery to Lucy, who tried to warn her brother against the fearful destiny awaiting him. He heeded her not, but with giant strides he hurried him- self to ruin. One night as he was gathered with some of his friends about a card table, calling loudly in drunken stupor for more wine, a figure in wnite stole softly from an adjoining room and laid its hand upon his shoulder — it was his sister. She begged him to stop and come with her, but he would not, and cursing told her to return to her room. The game went on ; wine was brought and drank ; money was won and lost, but not until he had lost all, did John rise from the table and staggering went to his room. Drunken, tired, sick at heart, he sat by the window listen- ing to the whippoorwill calling to his mate. The cool wind fanned his aching head, but revenge had taken possession of his heart ; and while he was thinking of how some day

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THE CLEMSON COLLEGE CHRONICLE. 349 friend, and that he must give the great chief some reason for his indifference. It was several minutes before he replied, then, taking the great chief by the hand, he said: Wisuska is sad because the spirits of our dead braves have been taking to him. When the night is dark, Wisus- ka will scalp the pale-face who killed his brother. Wisuska has many scalps in his wigwam, his feet are never tired, his moccasin leaves no tracks. Wisuska would go to-night and watch the pale-face with his women. The old chief was deceived. Wisuska ' s request was granted; that night he was sent as a scout, to the settle- ments along the Saluda in the lower part of what is now Anderson county. Before leaving, however, he went to the wigwam of Lona, an old fortune-telling squaw. By sunrise the next morning, Wisuska had reached a spring that was only four or five miles from the nearest English settlement. While eating his simple breakfast of parched meal and dried venison, he was startled by hearing a heavy groan in the thicket just behind him. There, by the side of a fallen tree, could be seen the form of a sleeping Indian. Wisuska crept up, pushed back the grass and leaves and carefully examined the sleeper ' s face. Yes, it was his only living brother, and he was drunk. The white men that had murdered his other brother at Fort Prince George, had also made a dog of Nokoma by selling him their ( poison water. This thought maddened Wisuska. He longed to hear the pale-face ' s death-shriek, as he sank beneath the Indian ' s tomahawk ; he longed to hold their warm, bloody scalp in his hand. But he must save Eona, the pale-face ' s beautiful daughter, first, for, if she were lost, what would all earth besides be worth ? There Wisuska stood pondering whether or not to wake