Lancaster High School - Mirage Yearbook (Lancaster, OH)

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the ruins of the cabin and sheds. As the wind and rain extinguished the light which he carried, a voice seemed to whisper to him, “Your father and mother yet live!” Dropping the brand, he fell to his knees and entreated the Great Spirit to help him find them. Within a month from the time he left his companions from the land of the Dakotas he was with them again at Up- per Sandusky, just as the purple martin had predicted. A few days after his ar- rival he made his way to (’amp Meigs; and Tracy hearing of the presence of a stranger in camp, sent a messenger to him, inviting him to attend the mission. That night, at the close of the service, the devoted missionary told the story of his lost boy. Wawatan lifting himself to his full height of six feet, walked down the aisle and as he knelt, he laid in Tracy’s hand a bit of porcelain and said, “I am Dick Tracy and the blue flowers of my childhood have been the means of bringing me home, not only to my earthly parents, but to the Great Spirit, the Father of the white man.

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something of the whereabouts of their lost boy. The mission at Camp Meigs was es- tablished by Finley and the Indians of the vicinity were invited to come and learn of the Great Spirit, the God of the white man. A decade passed. Finley had left the mission in charge of Charles Tracy and had gone farther into the wilderness to spread the gospel. During all these years, there had been no tidings of Dick Tracy but the efforts of his parents to find him had never ceased. The blow that the boy had received upon the head that day when he was taken into captivity had seemingly de- stroyed his memory. The past was like a blur before his eyes; his parents, his age his name, were all a mystery to him. After reaching Upper Sandusky his captors had sold him to a tribe migrat- ing to the north-west. lie had grown to young manhood and was known by the name of Wawatan. Because of his mighty deeds of war and skill in hunting Wawatan was to have for his wife the daughter of a great chieftan. One thing more was required of him to gain this Indian maiden. He was to journey from the Dakotas to the Southland to inquire of the purple martin if the Great Spirit smiled upon his love. Acordingly Wawatan, accompanied by two Indian braves, made his way in the direction of the Great Lakes. The two Indians stopped at Upper Sandus- ky and Wawatan continued his journey alone. When he reached the land of flowers and sunshine the birds delivered to him the message of the Great Spirit, which was this; “Wawatan will never marry the chicftan’s daughter. With- in a few weeks he will meet the braves at the trading post of the north.” Disappointed, Wawatan turned his face northward and at the end of two weeks had reached the banks of the IIock-Hocking, about five miles from the village of Cranetown. It was just at sunset, and the heavens were portent- ous. Vivid flashes of lightining and loud peals of thunder announced a rapidly approaching storm. Nearer grew the rumbling and deeper the twilight. Darkness settled down upon the earth. The voices of the wilderness cried out to Wawatan and warned him to seek shelter. A brilliant flash and a long low peal enforced the warning and when darkness and silence succeeded, Wawa- tan found himself at entrance of the cave. There he sought refuge and taking a flint from his pocket he kindled a fire of twigs and dry branches that someone had left in the cave. Yes, some one had had been there before him; but how lonely he was now. A sense of yearning for lost companionship seemed to steal upon him. Suddenly the blaze grew brighter and as the walls of the cabin became illuminated he beheld a ledge of rock which formed a shelf upon which he saw distinctly a number of pine cones a piece of looking glass, and a bit of broken plate. Gradually the power of association began to take possession of the mind of Wawatan. He arose from the ground where he had been sitting and took the piece of porcelain from the shelf. As he brought it nearer to the firelight he saw that it was ornamented with tiny blue flowers. Steadily he looked at these flowers and as he gazed a child’s face appeared in the midst of them. Suddenly the flood gates of mem- ory were opened. It was his sister’s face, and he was Dick Tracy. Then came the recollection of home, father and mother. Seizing a brand from the fire he rush- ed out. into the night. Yes, yonder were

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