Vtfc IP" PS 635 .Z9 C32 Copy 1 vAPSIE ! sonszn QTL&MA, IN FIYR ACTS BY nqs's yr L. Wl CHA.N(DIjE(II. INDEPENDENCE, IOWA: 1891. Entered according to Act of Congress in the year Eighteen Hundred and Ninety-One. By LAWRENCE W. CHANDLER, In the office of the Librarian of Congress, at Washington. D .C. WAPSIE! M Qordsr Draxxia In Fins Mutm. TAKEN FROM THE LEGEND OF WAPSIE AND PINICON, THE SCENES BEING LOCATED NEAR THE PRESENT SITE /OF INDEPENDENCE— TIME, 1830. By L_ W; EhsririlBF, CHST OF CHHRHCTERS. _>!_. OLLECHIAINEY. Chief of the Sioux WAPSIE, a Sac brave ______ HALO CUAITJJX, a medicine woman WINGED DEMON, a mysterious white man ELEET-EOOT, SILENT-WA.TER, ) JOHN WILTON, the first settler JOE -ALRIGHT, a trapper - - RALPH ROLYSTON, who seelrs vengeance and finds a wife CORK, a darky who relieves the monotony, - - - _ PAT, a gem of the Emerald Isle ------ PINICON ', the Sioux chief's daughter. - - MOLLIE WILTON f a prairie flower, - AIRS, WILTON, a devoted wife and mother, - BRIAR ROSE, a Sioux squaw, Warriors, Squaws. Indian Maidens and Children. — •-_*♦• — INDIAN AND PIONEER COSTUMES. TIME REQUIRED, TWO HOURS AND FORTY-FIVE MINUTES. } Indian scouts. > \ TMP92-008814 MCTf I. SCENE l — Camp ground, tent (R. u. e.) Camp fire ivith tri- . poles, kettle-log near fire, R. — Curtain discovers Mr. and Mrs. Wilton and Cork. WlLTON. Cork, look after the horses and cow, and I will help mother arrange the tent and look after the comforts of the camp. Where is Pat? CORK. He's gone to look after game for supper. Of course he ain't on hand if there's anything to do. But I'll attend to the domesticated quadrupedals, Massa Wilton. 'Scuse me. [Exit L. c. E.] WlLTON. Well, mother, what do you say to locating here? This is about as pretty a stretch of land as any one may find anywhere. Mrs. Wilton. Oh, John, it makes little difference where we settle, so we settle down somewhere. You certainly cannot go much farther into the wilderness. I am tired of this continual moving, and just so we get under a roof once more, is all I care. Then, I know, I will feel less heathen- ish. Have you any idea where you want to go, anyway? WlLTON. As I was saying, just now, I do not want to go anywhere — I want to stay here. It does not seem to make so much difference where we are, mother, if we are only contented. The good Lord has made this land just as beautiful, if not more so, than any we have left, and we ought to try and put it to some profit. This would make a grand townsite. Mrs. W. I presume you will next try to civilize the savages. I know you love the woods and the quiet of back- woods life, John, but this is a little too remote from civiliza- tion to please me. ' But may I ask what special line of work have you mapped out for our daughter, in this soli- tude, unbroken, save by the yell of Indians or the howling of wolves? Mr. W. Please do not get sarcastic, mother. We are expected to leave all relics of civilization behind, you know. Besides, you forget Cork and Pat, who make more noise than all the savages and beasts in chorus. Listen to that! [Pat sings in wing.] "I'm a simple Irish lad, And I'm looking for a place," [Enter] Pat. And I tell you, Mrs. Wilton, we have WHPSIE. found the right place this time. Why, this neck of the woods reminds me of ould Ireland, barring the swate- hearts I've left behind. WILT. Then you like this section of the country, Pat? Pat. Loike it! She's a daisy. There is plenty of good sile here to fatten paraties, slathers of game that you can have for the pickin', and a river as foine as Killarney lake. I ran over a bit of the moor down there and picked up an illegant supper. Look at that. [Holds up game.] Divil a bit of the likes of that would a fellow dare to do in the ould country. I'm an Irishman, born and bred on the bogs of Ould Ireland, and I love all the swate memories clustered around the Shamrock; but you may boil me up in soup and serve me to the red nagars, if I've yet seen the first foot of sile in the land of the free that I have wanted to lave. The saints bless the Emerald Isle, America can take care of herself. Mr. W. (laughing). You are a little enthusiastic Pat, in your patriotism for your adopted home. Your heart is in the right place, though, and your sentiments are all right. That is the kind of talk that will encourage people to build up this great west, which is bound to out-stride all parts of the world. Hello, here comes Mollie ! Mollie. (enter 1. c. e.) I have had a delightful romp, mother. Every foot of surroundings is a perfect picture; father, don't go any further. Let's stay right here. This is the sweetest place on the face oi the earth. Any one ought to be happy here. Wilt. There, mother, what do you think of that for an answer to your question? MOLLIE. Why, what are you talking about? WlLT. Well, you see girlie, mother has been a little home-sick, and while we were talking over our prospects, a few moments ago, you, of course, entered our thoughts, and your future was discussed, and I told mother to let you speak for yourself, so far as remaining here is concerned. MOLLIE. Oh! mother dear, you must not get home sick, [kisses her.] How can you when the birds sing so sweetly and the lovliest of wild flowers grow in profusion, and all things speak of health, happiness and freedom. Then, there is father and myself to cheer you. MHPSIE. Pat. Phawt's the matter wid me? CORK, (enters 1. c. e. running and excited.) Ise a gone niggah, suah! Dars an Injun coming this way. He's got a. toma knife bigger nor a scoope shovel. Fo' de love of Africa, protect dis niggah. Wlt. Be quiet, you coward, no one is going to hurt you. Pat. I have a strong arm and willing heart. Show me the red niggah and see me put him to slape. [Enter Clatawah.] Cork. [Going to wagon.] Scuse me! Clatawah. What pale face want here? Pat. Want to be let alone, ye spalpein, and we are going to be. WLT. Be quiet Pat. We want to stay here, to live among your people. We are willing to pay the chief for the land, if he will give us protection. CLT. Paleface talks well; Clatawah will take the mes- sage of his white friend to Ollechimney. The chief will be pleased, but Winged Demon may not. He bad white man who live at Ollechimney's camp. He buy nothing, think he own everything. Pat. (aside.) Bedad I've found the Prince of Whales. WLT. Who do you mean? Clt. Winged Demon, the chief's evil spirit. He want to kill all time. He give Indian fire water and make him bad. Pat. Fire water! Show him to me and the world is mine. Mrs. W. Pat! Wlt. (Goes to wagon and gets blankets.) Take these to the chief as gifts from his white friends who wish to live here in peace. Tell him his white brother wishes to be friendly, and would like to see him. Clt. Me take them to Ollechimney; me tell chief you good white man. Pat. If old smoky chimbly don't want our friend- ship, tell him we have got our nerve with us. [Exit Clata- wah.] Mr. W. Pat, why do you persist in trying to provoke the savage. JflZHPSIE. PAT. I want the divils to distinctly understhand that while they can fight the United States, and be pardoned when they'r whipped, they can't monkey around Ireland. [Goes to wagon and pulls Cork out.] Cork come out of that. Don't ye know ye will get lost in the darkness. Cork. Is any one dead? Pat. No, ye lazy, cowardly nagor. Hurry up and get supper. Me stomach is dying of neglect. CORK. Beef stake, pork chops, ham and eggs, buffler, bear, lamb, sheep, tea, coffee or Idelweis. PAT. Shut up, ye lunatic, or we'll send ye to crazy hill. What's the matter wid giving us something to ate. I'm not peculiar about the style. (Cork pours coffee, takes supper, all eat.) Wlt. Well, Pat, we must commence in the morning to put up our cabin. PAT. All right, Mr. Wilton, I'll be wid ye. May the Goddess of Liberty bless it when its built. (Front scene.) Scene ii. — Wood scene, — enter Clatawah, I. I. e., with blankets on arm, — crosses stage and meets Winged Demon on I. I. e. WINGED DEMON. Where did you find those blankets? CLATAWAH. At the camp of your people, down the stream. They sent them to Ollechimney and want to buy land. W. D. White people locating here. (Aside.) [Lucky I met this fellow.] How big a camp. CLT. [Holds up hand to indicate five.] So you are packing offerings of peace to the chief What does he want of that trash. Does he not own all this land, and can he not kill the white setters and take all they have. (Aside.) This Indian is too good for this country. (Aloud.) Do you see that hollow tree. Put those things there and never touch them again. Go! Take that and never return. (Indians passes him and Winged Demon plunges knife in his back, as he makes exit 1. 1. e. W. D. steps in wing a moment and returns with scalf and bloody knife.) W. D. He will never interfere with my affairs again. I have left the Sac scalp mark on him, and Wapsie will suf- fer for this deed. WA P S I R. "•* ^ *? ECT I. ScENE-^Zandscape background, rock at left, log at righf^ river, and movable canoe. [Enter Briar Rose, pappoose on back. BRIAR ROSE— Sings — Shegolah, shegolah, Sheling, shewing, shegolah. [Enter Pinicon] Why does Pinicon, daughter of the Sioux, hide her happy face in a cloud of trouble? Her heart is not as full of sun- shine as it was; her sweet songs no longer mingle with those of the birds. What worries my Wood-pidgeon? You often seek this glade, though you do not seem to find pleasure here. Has the Winged Demon stolen Pinicon's heart, or does she mourn the death of Clatawah? PlNICON. Pinicon's heart does not beat for the white stranger, it is true to her race; the cruel death of Clatawah, who loved me, makes me sad; but the heart of Pinicon weeps because the white-hawk has poisoned the hearts of the chief and young warriors against our cousins, the Sacs. War has already brought grief to our tribe. There is more than plenty of game for both in this beautiful valley of the Father of Waters. Until Winged Demon came, the Sioux and Sacs were friends, the chief loved his daughter and wished for her happiness, but now he seeks council with this paleface, whose tongue is forked; in his breast are aroused feelings of hatred, and he longs for the scenes of the war path. Pinicon feels that the great spirit is angry. Br. Have not the Sacs been the first to put on the war paint? Did not a Sioux brave die by the hand of a Sac wolf? Clatawah was found with a knife in his back, and the Sac scalp- mark was left to tell who the snake-in-the- grass was. Pin. It is false ! Clatawah met his death by other 2. WHPSIE. hands. I went to the spot where the brave Sioux died without warning, and saw what any Sioux might have seen had not their hearts been poisoned with lies. The foot prints in the soft earth were never made by an Indian; nor had a Sac moccasin pressed grass or twig in that lo- cality. Briar Rose ! a white man killed Clatawah ! Br. Winged Demon saw a Sac prowling around here that day. PlN. Perhaps Winged Demon has a purpose for report- ing strange sights. BR. Why need the Winged Demon speak falsely; he is brave, and would face the evil one, if in his path. PlN. He has not spoken falsely, but implies that the Sac killed Clatawah. A Sac brave was in our valley that day, but he came not to harm. Are they not our cousins? Are they forbidden to come here? Are their war whoops heard around our lodges? The Sac had no more reason to strike Clatawah in the back, than had one of our own tribe. Br. Pinicon speaks wisely, but is not her heart with the Sac? The birds sing that Pinicon loves the Sac warrior, Wapsie. Clatawah also loved Pinicon, and Wapsie was afraid that you would not go to his lodge if Clatawah sang the love song of the Sioux. Wapsie hated Clatawah and killed him. PlN. It is true that Wapsie finds favor in the eye and heart of Pinicon — love is not controled by ambitions or predjucies of human beings. It is false that Wapie sent Clatawah on the long and silent journey. Wapsie does not fear the wooing of others. He knows that Pinicons heart is true. But had the braves fought for the hand of Pinicon and had one fallen under the other's knife, why should the tribes go to war, spill more blood and make sad the hearts of squaws and papposes. There is a mystery, but Pinicon will know. Br. [Walking away] Beware, daughter of the Sioux, that your love for Wapsie does not bring the hatred of your own people on your head. [Exit R. U. E., singing.] PlN. This treachery shall be trailed to its lodge. Wap- sie's hand is not stained with the blood of my people. Wapsie is not a wolf to sneak up and bury fangs in the JaZHPSIE. back of his prey. He would rather sing his death song in the face of his enemy. Had I loved Clatawah, Wapsie would rather have thrown his heart to the coyotes than taken from me that I loved. [Walks to river and looks, then to log. Enter Wapsie in canoe. As he steps ashore, she runs to meet him.] WAPSIE [throwing arm around her, and as they walk to log]. W 7 apsie has kept his word and is here to take Pini- con to the lodges of his people. The waters have been rippling a love song against the canoe as Wapsie came hither. The heart of Wapsie is light. PlN. But the heart of Pinicon is heavy and her thoughts are sad. My father is angry with your people. He thinks you killed Clatawah and wants to dig up the tomahawk. Pinicon cannot go with Wapsie now; my flight would cause war with our tribes. W r A. [savagely] Does Pinicon think the Sacs fear the wolves of the war path. Fly in my canoe, and if the Sioux dare to follow in our trail, they will find the Sacs more nu- merous than the blades of grass, more crafty than the fox, and fierce as eagles. They will fight for Wapsie and Pini- con, and there will be death songs in all the lodges of the Sioux PlN. Wapsie is brave, and Pinicon is proud of his cour- ageous heart. But I love my people as you love yours. Our love should unite and strenghen the friendship that has existed for years and not be the cause of war and blood- shed. No, the time for Pinicon to wed Wapsie has not come. Wa. Pinicon speaks wisely, and Wapsie will wait. The war whoop of the Sacs shall not cause the Sioux maiden to fear. PlN. Wapsie IS brave. Wa. The heart of Pinicon is good. Her love is like the rippling stream than flows through the lands of both tribes, murmuring sweet songs to all. PlN. Wapsie must go. The sun is getting high and I and I must be at the chief's council lodge before the sun passes over our heads. Remember that Pinicon wishes the great spirit to point out the right for you, and hasten the hour when we will be united and loved by both tribes. MHPSIE. Wa. Wapsie goes, to return when his songbird sings for him. [Exit.] [PlN. shoots arrow after him; turns and meets W. D. who enters R. L. E.] WINGED DEMON. —Where is Singing Water going? PlN.— To the Council Lodge of my father, where the warriors are to speak to-day. Is Winged Demon to be away? W. D. — I will be there; the chief will hardly commence the powwow until his best friend and soon to be son-in- law arrives. PlN. —It is best to be there early; the chief will be dis- pleased with any delays. W. D. — Not when his friend has been watching a tardy daughter making love to a despised Sac. P IN.— Stop! The wolves and bears have often watched Wapsie and Pinicon, but never have snarled at us, and you shall not. Why did you not insult Wapsie instead of act- ing as a spy, and then tormenting one who is in your power, because my father is your friend? W. D.— It would have been a pleasure for the Sac dog to die in your presence; but that is not to be his fate, at present. He shall be tortured at the stake, and Winged Demon and Pinicon will make love in his presence. PlN. —[Slowly.] And Pinicon would do this while Wap- sie is being tortured? [Fiercely.] You lie! I would tear your flesh from your bones and pull it in shreds or throw it on the fire that was to burn Wapsie, before he should be insulted by your speaking to me in his presence. Go, and follow Pinicon no more, or even her Sioux brothers will resent the insult. W. D. — Your anger makes you the more bewitching. You are game worthy of any hunter's skill. Why not plead your lover's cause in council to-day, and defy Winged Demon before the chief, as long as the murderer of Clatawah dare not be present to sing his own praises? PlN. — The murderer of Clatawah will be there and plead his own cause with cunning. W. D. — Who do you mean? PlN.— You! [Picture.] W. D.— Ha, Ha. You would bear false witness to save your guilty lover. WHPSIE. 5 PlN. It is not false; the spirit of Clatawah stands there pointing at you. [VV . D. turns in superstitious fear. Pinicon covers him with a revolver.] W. D.— [Turning back.] Trapped. PlN.- Go! And tell the braves that an Indian maiden outwitted you; discovered your murderous secret, and spared your life when she could have killed you. W. D. — This is very clever, but I will humor you, as my time is coming. The chief has promised that you shall be my wife and that is sufficient. Wapsie's scalp shall hang in my wigwam and you shall be my queen. PlN. Never! [Exit.] [Enter joe and Ralph.] JOE. I say, boy, we will have to keep an eye peeled in these parts. There is other game aside from bar and bea- ver round here. We are gittin' nigh unto the campin' grounds of the redskins. The Sioux area unhealthy lot to tackle, and worse of all there is a white devil with old Olle- chimney's band, who is a terror to all enemies of the Sioux 'specially whites. RALPH. What do they call him? JOE. Winged Demon, or something of that sort; but He'll wear demon wings all the same if ever I draw bead on him. About five years ago he shot my pard, one of the best men who ever pulled a trigger or skun a beaver. Ral. Who is this white man, and where did he come from? JOE. There seems to be some question about his iden- tity. Some say he is the devil, himself; while others claim he is only his right bower. One thing is certain -he came from the lower regions. RAL. Why is he here? JOE. That's onsartin, too. Judging from his edication and hatred of white people, it seems reasonable that his natural cussedness got him into trouble with his own peo- ple, an' bein' a out law he has come out here to 'sociate with 'genial company, the savages. Ral. Have you ever seen him? JOE. Wall, I recken. Wasn't I a captive among the pesky varments for a week, an' came near tastin' fire round 6 WHPSIE. the tym'-post. My pard was with me, and the big hearted fellow was shot by this white devil while we was makin' an attempt to leave the 'siety of the red imps. This white man was the cause of our trouble as well as poor Tom's death. RAL. How was that? JOE. Well, Torn had seen the fellow east when he was younger, and he recognized him while we were tradin' with the Sioux, and spoke his name. He flew into a rage, al- though usually cool, and put the Indians up to robbin* and killing us. RAL. [Excitedly.] What name did he use? JOE. Thompson, no — Thornberg, no — Thorn — RAL. Thornton? JOE. That's it; that's it ! RAL. Thank God, I have found him ! JOE. You had better pray the lord that you may never meet him, if you know him. He don't seem to be real friendly to his old neighbors. RAL. Joe, you think I am a boy, and not skilled in bor- der warfare; that may be true. But I have sworn to kill Dave Thornton, if I ever meet him. He may be a cruel foe, a dead shot, and lucky as the superstitious term it; but mark my words, he will be unnerved when he meets Ralph Roylston. God will not permit this man to do double murder in one family. I may die by the hand of an Indian but this winged demon cannot kill me. If I do die, Joe, I do not ask more honorable burial than by your honest hands. JOE. Well, well, boy, I like yer spunk; and yer can bet old Joe will never go back on yer. But we must be movin'. This '11 never do. Come on, you can tell me all 'bout it as we trudge along toward our beaver traps further down the stream. Keep yer shootin' iron handy and look out for the blood thirsty Injuns that may be skulking around. [Enter bear. W. D. (l R e) Wa (L L e) shoot; both reach dead bear at same time; picture; Pinicon steps from be- hind rock — Tableau; curtain. AaZHPSIE. TtCX ii. Scene— On Bank of the Wapsie pin icon, Medicine lodge {c) tepees, Indian women, girl, Indian bops, Winged Demon, Pinicon, Chief and Indians discovered in Council lodge ' CHIEF. — Ollechimnev, chief of the mighty Sioux, will listen to the words of his faithful scouts, Fleetfoot and Silent Water. The braves will speak. FLEETFOOT- [Rising] Fleetfoot, who keeps pace with the wind, speaks to his brothers, who love this land that Manitou has given 'is. Fleetfoot never speaks falselv. Two hours' run, with the course of the dancing water, Fleetfoot finds pale face lodge. Fleetfoot no like white man. Pale faces kill heap game, no ought to. Ugh, there is a pale face chief, a red-headed warrior, a squaw, a white maiden and a black imp in the camp. Easy kill. CHF.-- Fleetfoot runs like wind, sees like hawk, easy find Sioux game. But have the pale faces dared to enter the mighty land of the Sioux to defy the warriors, or have they lost their way and want the red man to lead them to their people? Silent Water will speak. SILENT WATER. — Silent Water brave Indian, and fears not pale faces; your faithful scout moves with the silence of the stars, and watched pale faces when they dreamed not he was near. Pale faces no good, and frighten game with chop knives, cut down lot Ollechimney's trees, build big lodge, put up strong fence, stand behind and shoot brave Sioux. Silent Water think it bad; let their scalps hang in our wigwams. Silent Water like take scalp; have white girl for squaw. WARRIOR. —[Jumps up, swinging tomahawk.] The young braves ask to put on the war paint, arid go on the war path. CHF. — Silence! Let the Winged Demon speak. His words are wise. W. D. Ollechimney is a great chief. The tribes to the four winds fear him, and the war cry of his warriors strike terror to all foes. Mis white brother, who loves him, is pleased to speak; let the braves listen ! Ollechimnev, chief of the Sioux has seen many snows and is wise ! His wisdom has made him chief of a grand tribe and owner of this great land ! His bravery has preserved the greatest WRPSIE. hunting grounds known ! Prairie and timber are blessed with deer and buffalo, the streams are filled with fish, and the great spirit has sent many fowls for food. No babe of the Sioux cries with hunger or cold; no brave returns from the hunt empty-handed ! The Great Spirit has given all this to the Sioux, and had he wanted the paleface to change the original beauty of nature, slay your deer and buffalo and plow up the trail of his chosen people, the Sioux, he would not place the Indian in power here ! He would be angry were you to permit nature here to be dis- turbed ! Your brother has a white skin, but his hand is against the pale faces ! They kill, but not with bullet or tomahawk or in fair fight, but by more cruel methods — by their laws ! Winged Demon hates the dough-faced cow- ards, his people no longer 1 I came to your forest home to shut their hated faces from my sight forever ! Let the paleface dogs who have squatted under the shadow of your wigwams, die, as a warning to others who may follow. Do not show mercy even to the beautiful white squaw ! I do not know from whence these ventursome palefaces came or whither they wish to go; I do not know who they may be, whether relative or stranger, nor do I care; their faces would only bring back recollections of associations that make me curse my fate because I am of the same treacher- ous blood ! However, I know this: If you permit them to take root here they will grow like poisonous weeds ! They will multiply like the thistle, and crowd you from your beautiful lands to the setting sun ! You will melt be- fore their war guns like the snow. They will steal your lands, cheat you in swapping, build strong houses to hide in, and drive the buffalo and elk from the land the great spirit has intended for your people. Heed the prophesy of Winged Demon, your friend, sent from midst paleface self- ishnes and wickedness to warn you. Let your young war- riors tear the white settlers from their forest nest, and show your enemies, the Sacs, who are about to dig up the hatchet, that you are not babes. Winged Demon has spoken. Ch. The tongue of Winged Demon is gifted with wisdom, and his heart is brave. He is worthy of the friendship of our tribe. Ollechimney calls him brother, and he is welcome to the lodges of the Sioux ! The AaZHPSIE. young men shall go. [Indians show satisfaction, Pinicon steps forward.] PlN. Pinicon, daughter of your chief, would speak. Ch. Ollechimney knows the bravery of his daughter ! But not even a daughter of a chief is permitted to voice her satisfaction in the council lodge. PlN, "Listen! the voice of Pinicon shall never again disturb the sacred silence of this lodge. Pinicon would not change the traditions of the tribe! Never has she wished to plead in the presence of brave warriors against the judg- ment of their chief. If the traditions of the Sioux forbid a squaw to speak in council, they also forbid any pale face speaking here in the presence of warriors of the tribe. Winged Demon has advised you, I also claim a hearing. Listen. I am the daughter of a great chief and though not permitted to lead on the war path, who dare say Pinicon is not brave. Do I ask protection from wild beasts? No! Though I boast not of scalps, who has more valuable tro- phies of the chase; where among you is one who can send an arrow truer to the mark? Who can ride better or throw a knife swifter? I am willing to bow my head to the will of the tribe as a chieftian's daughter should, but I will not be the slave of a paleface, a renegade who has been driven from his people, and whose cheeks should burn with shame at the thought of plotting for the murder of his own innocent kinsmen, IF NOT OUR OWN BRAVES. I love my race, my brothers, and their deeds of bravery. I rejoice over their victories and mourn when the great spirit is angry with them, and would die under torture to avenge their wrongs. I am proud to be a Sioux maiden, and wish to spend my life in the lodges of my people. Yon scheming pale face has asked me to be his wife, and though your chief my father has promised that I shall, I would sooner die. I ask that the pale faces whom he wishes to kill may be spared. It would be better to throw the bones of that renegade to the wolves, than harm the innocent maiden, whose friends have done us no injury. Winged Demon may seem to advise you well, but his power here will bring ruin and misery to our tribe. Pinicon has spok- en, let the wise warriors of the Sioux heed her voice, or the great spirit will be grieved with his people. ■"> JnZHPSIE. W. D. Pinicon is a charming daughter of a brave chief, and her voice is music in the hearts of her people whether heard in the council chamber or in the wigwam. The birds stop singing to listen to the sweet notes from her throat. But her heart is tender, and she turns from blood- shed with fear. She will think of the words of Winged Demon, and regret that she pleaded for the lives of the palefaces when her people are driven from this beautiful land of the Sioux. Her thoughts are not of war, but love; for she has listened to the love song of a Sac, your enemy. But I shall kill the dog who has dared to steal her from her tribe. Sioux braves listen not to the sentiment of a love- sick maiden! Have I not proved myself a friend to you ? Have I not earned the name of brother. Have I ever skulked on the war path, or failed to aid in your victory when your enemies came to burn your lodges, tomahawk your babes and steal your maidens. Do you want Pinicon to grace the lodge of a Sac skunk? Say no, and his scalp shall hang in my lodge; say yes, and Winged Demon leaves you. [Drawing a knife] Dare any one deny my right of adoption in this tribe? PlN. [Pointing revolver.] I dare! And by the mem- ory of Clatawah, and all braves who have gone to the hap- py hunting grounds through treachery, I swear that if you do not sheaf that knife, because I demand it as your equal, you will never live to insult another brave Indian. W. D. [putting up knife.] Most graciously, fair Pinicon. Ch. Peace, peace, my children. It is my wish that the pale faces die. [Pinicon attempts to check the demand.] It is said. To-morrow night the young men will burn the wooden lodge and spare not a single life. My word is giv- en, seek your lodges. [Exit warriors and W. D.] Ch. [to Pin.] Interfere no more, if you would avoid the hatred or your people, or claim my protection. You shall wed my white brother. PlN. I will die first! Oh! Chief— Ch. Go? Tell Halo Cumtux, the medicine woman, that the Chief waits for her in the council chamber. [Pin. goes to tepee; then to 1. r. e.] PlN. [aside] The pale faces shall not die. Pinicon will warn them, [exist.] JaZHPSIE. W. D. [aside] I believe I will take a stroll myself, and see what my future wife is about to do. [exist u. r. e.] [Medicine squaw enters council L. Business.] Ch. What says the Great Spirit? Is he pleased with Ollechimney? Med. Sq. The Chief should show the wisdom of trees and flowers, and be patient, though storm or sunshine be in store. He should allow the Great Spirit his own time to show the future to Halo Cumtux, his child, (business) I see a beautiful maiden of our tribe weeping, and her tears swell into a stream. It flows to the lodge of Ollechimney. He sleeps — it — Beware. (Curtain.) IC'T III* SCENE— Back Landscape, Log Cabin (r), Tree near Cabin, (I. u. e.) partly hidden by wings, stump (!. of c.'j. Curtain discloses Cork tacking coon skin to side of Cabin. CORK 'Scuse me. Mr. Injun, I'se been located in busi- ness in this section two weeks now, and if any one wants my job and will set me down with my wool on, longside de ole Mississip, he may have all the assets, and sperience thrown in. Here I'se been, protectin' white folks, scarin' way de Injuns, and worryin' my po' life outen me keepin' my eye on Miss Mollie, and tryin' to prevent her being kotched by the liver-colored 'boriginals until general de- bility ceases to be a virtue, Common sense and skill are not predated. Dangerous to be safe here, suah. 'Scuse rne, Mr. Injun, but I'm going to resign. Las night I saw a big Injun, higher nor that tree sneakin' around yere. Golly, I was so scared that I dared not say a word 'bout it to nobody. But if I hadn't— Mrs. Wilton. [Inside wagon] Cork! CORK. [Startled) Golly, thought I had to do it agin. Pat. Do phat? Cr. Run! inZHPSIE. PAT. Run where, ye black coward? Don't ye know the woods are full of thim? Cr. Full of what? Pat. Trees, you black goat. Cr. You bet I'll go it, Irish, if Massa Wilton don't elude to get outen this. MRS. W. [From wagon.] Cork! CR. Oh, I'se here. MRS. W [Enter L. u. E.] Cork, did you take a fish line out of that wagon. I have looked every where for it, and Mr. Wilton wanted me to be sure and find it, so he could catch some fish for supper. [Pat enters cabin arm of wood] Cr. Shuah, Misses Wilton, I didn'ttouch it; I havn'tbeen near that wagon since I left it. MRS. W. You are sure you don't know where it is? CR. Suah! Maybe has got it! Pat. [At door.] If he has, I'll go you one that there's a fish on the end of it. Cr. Shut up, you sucker. MRS. W. Between Cork and Pat, the howling wolves and prowling redskins, it seems as though I would go crazy or die of fright. Why did Wilton haul us out into this wilderness to be murdered by the cut throat savages? And my dear daughter— Cork! where is Mollie, didn't I tell you to see that no harm came to her. CORK 'Scuse me, might as well look after the buisness end of a jimmy cane. I tell you Misses Wilton, that girl's a clipper, and she needs some one' sides a colored genemam to keep her in sight. She got on the pony and I tole her "jest get right down of that horse, he might break her record," but she lafifed and said coaxing like: "Cork please go into the house and get Gyp some salt," and I innocent as a lamb, went in, and when I came out she was outer sight, I might have gone six miles any where and not found her. 'Oar to gracions she rides like the wind. 'Scuse me Misses Wilton, piease "charge me, put me on the next train for Qusque, and I'll be willing to 'scuse all back mis- takes and send you a better nigger nor I am to do my work. MRS. W. Of course, you mean well, Cork, and we would WHPSIE. miss you if you left us; there are few enough of us any way. Where is Mr. Wilton? [Enter Wilton, Joe and Ralph.] WlLTON. H^re I am, mother, and I've brought a couple of friends with me. Neighbors are mighty scarce, and I w : glad to find two white men near our cabin, [to J and R] Guess you were surprised somewhat, yourselves. Mr. Allright, this is Mrs. Wilton, and this, mother, is Mr. Royl- ston, his friend. Mrs. W. I am pleased to meet you, gentlemen, and you are welcome to our home — if one may call a nook in this wi'd region, home. Ralph. I am sure it reminds me of home, to meet you, Mrs. Wilton. JOE. Wall, it's a better home than I have dreamed of for years, I'm awful glad to meet you. Its mauy a month ce I have seen a white woman, and I walked purty spry over to your camp when your husband told me there were women folks here. MRS. W. How long have you been in this wild section, Mr. Allright. JOE. Nigh onto twenty years, fishing, trapping, fightin' kins and hating myself. MRS. W. Do you often meet white people here? JOE. None here, and only once in a while a white man or two who meet me down at the mouth of the river to buy my furs. But for two years, until Ralph came a few weeks ago, I did not set eyes on a white face, and dared not approach an injun. CORK [aside]. Golly, thar's a game of solytary for you ! Mrs. W. Are there no other white persons in this vi- cinity now. JoE. I'm sorry to say thar's one white man hereabouts, but he has a blacker heart than a redskin. He is called Winged Demon, but he is so pesky mean, that even the injuns are no whar in that line. One might better meet a rattlesnake in a holler log with a grizzly sniffin at his heels. CORK. I don't see anything white about that kind of a fellow. MRS. W. You must be hungry, gentlemen, after your long tramp. Come inside and refresh yourselves. 14- WHPSIE JOE. I don't care if I do, RAL. Your hospitality, Mrs. Wilton in appreciated. [All enter cabin, except Cork.] MRS. W. [from door]. Here Cork, get a pail of water. CORK [takes pail, and at corner of cabin drops it]. Yer she is! Yer she is! [Enter Mollie on pony, and Mrs. W. from cabin. MOLLIE. Well, mother, I am back again, and in time for dinner [kisses her]. Hungry? why I am n nish- ed. Oh! I had a glorious ride, though. This is the grand- est country in the world. I'm completely captivated by it. CORK. I tole you you would be captivated The next time you won't get away so easy. What you run off iind leave your life preserver for? MOLLIE. Don't scold, Cork. I am back safe and un- harmed. Let us begin over again. CORK. You mean it suah, honest injun. You won't fool this niggah agin? Mollie. Yes, Cork, next time I will tell you I am go- ing before I give Gyp the rein. CORK. All right. Here, Gyp, you rascal, come along, ond help yo'self to grass. [Goes to pony.] MRS. W. I wish you would be more care r !, Mollie, what would I do here darling, if anything should happen to you. MOLLIE [tenderly]. Don't worry, mother. A little ex- ercise will do me good. I cannot get lost, for Gyp always knows the way home. MRS. W. Oh! I forgot to tell you — we have visitors. MOLLIE. Visitors? CORK. Yes we has, Miss Mollie ! Mollie. Indians? CORK. No-o-o! Real, live white folks £ ' \y bar hunter and the nicest young man. Mollie. Oh! glorious ! [Wilton, Joe and Ralph enter from cabin.] WlL. Hello, pet, you are here, are you? Mollie. Of course; you did not think that I had gone back to the settlement and left you alone to enjoy this grand scenery. Mr. W. Here's the girl for a pioneer's daughter. She WHPSIE. is. loves the green trees, merry streams and fresh air. But, excuse me. Mollie, these are our new friends, Mr. All- right and his friend Ralph. JOE —You bet yer can count on us as friends, and if you have any trouble with the so-called owners of this stamp- ing ground, just let us know. MOLLIE. Oh, father, I should have told you before. A few minutes ago, I met an Indian girl, as lovely as a flower. She said that the Indians know we are here and arc angry; that they have decided to massacre every one of us; that she came to warn us to leave immediately, and under no circumstances to be ungaurded. She said she had pleaded with her father, the chief, to spare us; but he will not, for he is very angry, as one of his braves had been killed by some unknown person. She could use but a few words that I could understand, but her gestures were so graceful that I knew what she wished to convey. MRS. W. Oh, my dear girl, what if the Indians had taken you into captivity! My heart comes up into my throat to think of such a fate. Joe. There was no immediate danger. I know the var- ments. If the Indian girl was honest, there were no red- skins near, or she would not have shown herself toy daughter. I do not know of but one squaw among the Sioux, who can speak United States at all, and that is old Ollechimney's daughter. MOLLIE. Yes, I heard her speak that name. JOE. There ma)- be trouble ahead, though, the Sioux are a murderous set. CORK, [moving away]. 'Scuse me. Guess I'll go back to the settlement and tell the sojers. Mo. If you should meet the Indians, Cork, tell them we are ready for them. Good-bye, Cork, if you „. on the way, we will hunt for your body and bury it prop- erly. Cr. Well-ell-ell, you, yon-ou needn't send me away in such a hurry. I want going jest yet. I'm going t t ke keer of the pony. [Mrs. W. enter cabin, and W. and J. go to stump. Mol- and Ralph go to the tree]. Mo. How long have you been in the far west, Mr. — 1a£HPSIE. Ral. Roylston. Your father failed to present me in full. [Laughing.] Mo. Thank you; poor papa is all taken up with his new friend, the trapper, who seems to have a vast fund of infor- mation of value here. This is not your home ? RAL. No, I have been out here but a short time; but it seems thai I am forunate in getting into good society wi hout much delay. #W*/^ Mo. Yes, Wiltonville, as p eop le call ojr town site, has a small but select population. Where r your home, Mr. Roy! ton? Ral. In Ohio. Mo. Don't you think you are running a great risk to venture out here, where few white people have ever been. Ral. I fully counted the risk; but it does surprise me to find a young lady of your advantages here. Mo. Oh, I am with my father and mother and where my loved ones are, I am happy. Father was unfortunate in business matters, and wanted to come west, and begin anew. We did not intend to come beyond the border but stories of this beautitul section, which must soon be set- tled by an enterprising people, reached us; and father came as far as this beautiful stream and concluded to locate, and, really, I am not sorry. This is a picturesque and lovely spot, and the novelty of frontier life pleases me. Ral. But, seriously, does not the story of this Indian Maiden make you regret the venture, Mo. It would be useless to regret it now; besides it is no worse for me than you and the others. Of course Mr. Roylston, life is sweet to me; though I would hardly care to live, if mother and father should be killed. But, some- how, I feel that all will be right. Father intends to buy the land from the Indians; then of course they will not harm us. There, father and Mr. Allright are coming; we will see what they say. Mr. W. Well, it looks squally, that is sure; but I think your suggestion is a good one, and if it is not so bad as the girl seemed to think, I'll g^o and negotiate with the chief for the land. JOE. Well, keep up a sharp watch, and I will take a walk up the stream and see what is going on at the injun WHPSIE. .7 camp. Come on Ralph. R.AL. Perhaps, if there is to be a sudden attack, I had better remain and help Mr. Wilton protect the cabin. JOE. No. I may want to send you back with an im- portant message this evening, before I can return myself. RAL. [aside]. I hope he may not be disappointed, and that the time to return will come sooner than he expects. [To Mollie, aloud.] I hope, Miss Wilton, that the message I bring may be a pleasant one, and that you will not be kept in anxiety long. Good-bye. MO. Good-bye; we all wish you a safe and speedy re- turn. [Enter Mrs. Wilton.] Mr. W. Yes, take good care of yourselves. We will try and keep the cabin standing until your return. (Exit Ral.J Mo. Father, I am almost sorry your friends came. I never realized how lonesome it really is out here in the wilds, until we had visitors. Oh, well, this will never do, Guess I will go in the house and read awhile. (Exit.) Mrs. W. (Going up to husband.) John, I do not wish to make the situation any more gloomy, but I am so sorry we ever came here. I know you acted for the best, but, of course, none of us realized the dangers fully. John, we will be an old, broken down couple if we live, before this country is safe for a home. It is unjust to our daughter, too, who has had good opportunities to fit her for a happy future — to bring her aw r ay from society and civilization. Now, please, John, if we live until morning; pack up and return to the settlement east of here. I am willing to die by your side if necessary, but prefer to live with you, until a ripe old age among law abiding people. WlL. [Kindly.) Well, mother, you are a comfort even when you find fault with me. But, remember, the kind Lord watches over us, and if it is His will to give us years of happiness, he can bring it about here, among savages, as well as in the settlement. I had as soon die by a bullet or a tomahawk as to end with small pox or indigestion, if we must be separated. Mrs. W. Yes, but John, dear, even here we may es- cape the tomahawk only to die of exposure or disease; and then, our daughter. WlL. Yes, Mollie is a dear good girl, and her heart is so is. WHPSIE. haypy th2t she will learn to love Nature's beauties so dear- ly thas she wish for no change. MRS. W. Oh, John, you do not understand. I know you will think me foolish, but, but oh "I'm so homesick. Mr. W. "Well, don't cry, that's a dear. Perhaps I'll — Hello! whose is this, another white man, as I live! Well, neighbors are getting pretty thick. Guess we will have to move a little further west, wife, and avoid the rush. (Goes to meet W. D. who enter.) How do you, do, stranger. Glad to see you! W. D. Well, it does me good, to to see white friends again, after being buried among savages and wild beasts in this region so long. Was out hunting, saw the smoke from your ehimney, and hurried along, hoping to find a chance to speak the English language once more. When did you locate here? I was over this ground a month ago, and Saw no sign of you. Mr. W. We have been here nearly two weeks. W. D. Nice location, although a little unfortunate in case of an Indian attack. The savages might crawl up to that grave and pick you off before you know it. Do not be frightened, madam, there is little fear of an attack. I know the Indians, hereabouts, and they are very friendly. How many are there of you? MR. W. Five men and two women, including Joe Al- right and his friend. W. D. The trapper! Mr. W. Yes. W. D. [Aside.] The devil, this will be no easy job. [Aloud] Are you well armed? MR. W. Yes, and every one a dead shot. But we do not wish to have trouble with the Indians. It is my in- tention to buy this land from the chief. Do you know Joe, the trapper? W. D. Oh, yes, we are friends. MRS. W. He said he knew of no other white man here. W. D. [Aside] That's good. [Aloud] Oh, I have not seen him since we were trapping together on the Mis- sissippi. Glad to hear he is here. When will you see him again? WHPSIE. i9- Mr. W. I expect him back to-night or in the morning-. He went out on a little scout. [Enter Mollie.] W. D. [Aside.] Phew. Well I'll see that your ac- quaintance ceases before he returns. MR. W. You see, my daughter met an Indian maiden a short time ago who told her that our lives are in danger, and Joe has gone to look the ground over. W. D. Ha ha! Have no fears. Joe should have known better, himself. The Indian girl is hopelessly insane. She was in love with a Sac warrior and her father would not permit him to marry her. Mo. How sad. She seemed as intelligent as any one. The Sioux and the Sacs are at war, then? W. D. No, but the chief did not like this particular Sac, and his refusal broke the girl's heart. CORK. Why didn't he give her the sack. W. D. My colored friend, if I was you I would be think- ing of more serious subjects. You may be Siouxed to sleep before morning. Cork. 'Scuse me. (Exit). W. D. I beg your pardon, Miss Wilton, for exchanging puns with your servant to frighten him; but really there is no danger. Mo. Cork was very rude; but since coming west he takes agreat many liberties with his tongue, and we make no effort to cheek his mirth, for it really keeps us in good spirits So you really think the Sioux maiden is insane, and that there is no danger. W. D. I am positive, Miss Wilton. Mo. Your words relieve me of a great deal of anxiety. No one unacquainted with the facts, could have believed the poor girls mind unsound on any subject. Papa, you entertain our guest, and I will go and prepare something to eat, and we will have an early supper. You will remain and join us Mr. W. D. No, many thanks; I know you would prepare a tempting meal, but I must be going, [aside] I want to wing that trapper, and if I get him in range he will not es- cape a second time, [aloud] "I will see you again to-mor- row and bring the Chief with me." [exit; at entrance 20. MHPSIE. says aside.] "That is true but they will not care to enter- tain us." (Mr. W. and Mollie go in the house.) [Turn light down little, enter Mr. W. and Mollie.] Mr. W. Well, its getting late, and we must make preparations for the night. Strange Joe Allright or Ralph do not return. But, of course, he has discovered that there is no danger, and so has gone on, or has concluded to come back with our new friend and the Chief in the morning. He'll be pleased to find his old friend here. I'll have the boys see that the horses are tethered properly, and then we will close up for the night. Mo. Father, I cannot understand why Mr. Roylston does not return. Mr. W. Why, he has no doubt learned that every- thing is all right and will wait until morning. Mo. Father, you are wrong. Mr. Roylston is a gentle- man and he understood our fears, and woul d only be too glad to bring us cheerful news. I feel that our friends are in danger. I cannot believe that the Indian girl was repeating a fancy. Mr. W. Pshaw, girl, didn't the gentleman this after- noon assure us that the girl was crazy? You are nervous, although that is something unusual for you. Mo. Did not the trapper tell us that the Sioux are treacherous, and that there is a white man living with them who is even more cunning than the savages. Mr. W. Yes, but didn't the stranger say he was a friend of joe's; and if he is, he told us the truth. Mo. I did not like his appearance. Did you notice he did not even tell us his name? MR. W. Why, that's so. Mo. Father, I fear that if we are not vigilant to-night, we will never live to see our friends if they do return. We ought to take some precaution to protect ourselves. Mr. W. Well, girlie, we will have to keep our eyes open to please you, We shall have to take turns as senti- nels. No move will probably be made before midnight, so we will let Cork stand on guard until that time, and then I will relieve him. Cork. 'Scuse me. Mr. W. What? AaZHPSIE. 21. Cork. I said, 'scuse me. Do you think I'd be the pro- per personage to remain out side and get killed, when my sarvices would be so valuable inside, protecting the ladies. Pat. [Enter cabin.] Give your tongue a vacation and haul in the whites of yer eyes, and they'll take ye fer a chunk of night and never notice ye. CORK. Keep your head under cover then, or they'll think the sun's risin'. Mr. W. Go in and get your rifle, Cork, and keep a sharp lookout. If you see any signs of Indians give us warning. [Exit— Dark— Moon ] CORK. You don't ketch this niggah stayin' on a level with any red skin. [Tries to climb tree.] I darsent leave that pop down here. [Pulls out fish line.] Well, if thar haint that fish line Mrs. Wilton was lookin' arter. Wonder how it got in there? [Throws over tree. Busi- ness.] [Voice Inside.] Cork! CORK. Ise heah! [Voice Inside.] What's the matter? Cork. Nuffin. Mr. W. [Stepping to door] What made you fire that gun off. CORK. I didn't; it went off itself. Mr. W. Pat, come here; this black idiot will have us all murdered before midnight. You may do sentinel duty. CORK. That's right, Irish, 111 go in and dream and snore for you. [Exit cabin.] PAT. [Alone and all quiet.] It's a little oxposed here; guess I'll climb the tree [climbs]. Charity begins at home, moind that, Whist, what's that? [Indian creeps in from wagon to stump, walks to door to listen. Pat scared.] MOLLIE [inside cabin] I find it impossible to go to to sleep. Guess I will step outside and learn if there are any signs of Mr. Roylston. Pat. [Aside]. Holy smoke! [As Mollie opens door the Indian raises tomahawk — Mol- lie screams. ■ Pat reaches down and snatches tomahawk from Indian and kills him. Indians yell back stage, make a rush on cabin, and are repulsed]. 22. JnZHPSIE. CoRK, [at window]. You got him down. Pat. [Indians shoot burning arrows at stage; Pat comes down the tree.] PAT, [shaking fist]. That's your trick, is it? Come on wid ye; come on ye red nagars, I can whip the whole dirty mob of ye's. While there is a live muscle in the body of Patrick McFlinerty, ye shall never harm one hair of swate Mollie's head. [Enter Joe and Ralph.] JOE. Go it Pat, and we'll take a hand. [Curtain.] Me*r IV. SCENE I. Landscape background, Rock at left, flozvers, Curtain discloses Ralph and Mollie sitting on log. MOLLIE. You and the trapper arrived just in time that auwful night fo save us. We could not have held out much longer against the shower of burning arrows. RALPH, If we had only arrived in time to have saved you the anxiety. But the Indians before evening, seemed to know of our presence and were particularly annoying in heading us off from this cabin. Mo. Thanks to your bravery, they did not succeed. One could hardly believe that this beautiful land, flooded with God's sunshine and so abundant in nature's blessings, was so recently the scene of bloodshed. Ral. I cannot think of the danger you passed through without a shudder. These are indeed treacherous times, and one cannot say that the next minute will not be the last. I can no longer keep my secret from you. Fate has thrown us together under perilous circumstances; yet fate has been kind. Mollie, will you be my wife? Mo. There is mother waving her hand to us. We must return to the cabin, RAL. [taking her hand]. You shall not treat my words so lightly. You have won my heart, and I must know whether you intend to give me yours in return. Mollie, say you will be my wife. [Kisses her.] Mo. There, you saucy fellow, that ought to satisfy you. Now go and learn what my mother wants. iflZHPSIE. 2 3 Ral. Do not go any further from the cabin Although there has been no signs of Indians for more than a week, we must not get careless, for there is no telling when they will show themselves again. Mo. I am so near the cabin there can be no danger. [Exit Ralph.] He is a dear heart, and if he only knew it, I have loved him from the first. [She goes to 1. u. e. to pick flowers. Indian creeps from r. u. e. When near c, Mollie looks up and screams. Shots fired from 1. 1. e., In- dian catches Mollie, holds in front of him, backs to pony and rides away. Joe, Ralph and Pat enter at 1. 1. e.] RAL. Oh, why did I leave her even for a moment? I'll kill that red brute if I die for it. [Starts. J JOE. [Pulling back.] Do you want to commit suicide ? Nothing can be gained by such rashness, boy. Trust in me and be patient, and we will make the red devils pay for this work. Ral. They may kill her while we are waiting. JOE. No danger of that; had the Injun wished to kill her he had an opportunity to do so. But I was sartin I hit him when I fired; he did the act up brown, though. Come on, we must be moving. [Exit.] CORK. [Enter 1. 1. e.] This niggah hasn't much nerve on ordinary 'casions, but I can't bear to hear poor Missus Wilton take on that way. Ise going to help Miss Mollie outen this scrape if I have to climb the frame of every In- jun in this section. 'Scuse me. [Exit.] SCENE 2. [Indians, Ponies and Captive stop to rest.] Silent Water. We have not rested for two suns, heap hungry. [Eats.] Chief. (Enters.) Why did not Silent Water kill the pale face maiden? That was the order of Winged Demon. S. WATER. Winged Demon has no power to change the traditions of the tribe. I captured the pale face maid- en and claim her for my slave. CHIEF. Silent Water listened not to the Chief; yet he is right, and his prisoner shall live. (Enter W. D. 1. 1. e.) W. D. Oh! you have captured the pale face squaw, but why trouble to take her to the lodges of the Sioux? Are 24 UtfHPSIE. the Sioux chicken-hearted? Shall Winged Demon show you how to scalp? [Starts toward her. J Ch. Silent Water wishes to keep her for his slave, and I have no power to prevent. W. D. Silent Water is a fool, the maiden should die. We have no time to watch her. The Sacs are on the war path, and every warrior is needed at the camp of Ollie- chimnev. Come on, you have delayed too long now. [Exit.] ' [Ralph, Joe and Pat cross after.] (Enter Wapsie. Wapsie crys like whippoorwill. Pinicon enters r. 1. e. and goes to side.) Wapsie. Pinicon's thoughts seem to be lost in trouble. Can Wapsie do anything for his song bird? PlN. Sh — ! you must not be heard or seen here. A bad storm beats in my father's heart, and it is best that it does not burst upon Wapsie. Wap. Wapsie fears not the storm; his thoughts know only Pinicon. When she is not in sight, the loneliness in his heart is more to be dreaded than any storm. Come! [Enter Chief and discovers them.] Chief. Wapsie, dog of a Sac, go! Let not even the trees hear your love song again, or it will be turned into a death song. [Wapsie and chief draw knives.] PlN. [stepping between them.] Wapsie will not strike the father of Pinicon, even in anger. (Wapsie throws away knife and folds his arms.) Ch. Go! or I will sound the warwhoop and my braves will not spare you. Wap. [making exit moving slowly backward.] I go, not that I fear death, but because I love Pinicon. Ch. (to Pin.) Even the dogs howl at you for meeting a foe of the tribe by stealth. Prepare to wed the Winged Demon. Ollechimney owns no Sac for a son. PlN. Chief, spare me this cruelty, and I will promise never to see Wapsie again. That fate would be worse than an arrow in my heart, but Pinicon will keep her word. Ch. You shall wed my white brother, tomorrow; my will shall be obeyed. Stir not from your wigwam until you go with the paleface chief. You know what I mean. (Exit.) SCENE hi. (Landscape Indian encampment. Curtain MHPSIE. 2 5. discloses Mollie tied to the tree; Indians around, Winged Demon and Pinicon.) W. D. (Walking over to Mollie.) "Well Miss Wilton, you seem to have suffered by the fortunes, or rather mis- fortunes, of war. MOLLIE. Yes, and had your voice prevailed, we would have been murdered a week ago, or I would have been tomahawked in cold blood yesterday. W. D. [Laughingly.] "Yes, my power with the tribe seems to be waning; had the Indians followed my advice, they would have killed you on the way here. I am really sorry that you were so foolish as to come out here; but you came, and that was no fault of mine; now, that you are here, you must put up with the circumstances. Your In- dian maiden over there seems to have recovered her men- tal forces. MOLLIE. Yes! you seem to be the one who has lost your senses. W. D. [aside) She's a cool one. [to Mollie.] So you are to administer to the comforts of Silent Water. Well he will probable kill you in time! Mo. Death would be preferable to life-long captivity with such brutes! W. D. The prospects are not inviting, Miss Wilton, I admit, but I can do nothing for you unless it will be to have some of the savages tomahawk you. If I can be of any service to you in that line, I'll be pleased to serve you! Ha ha. Mo. I would sooner expect mercy from the savages than you. Do you know that a white man, who will decoy persons of his own race into the clutches of murderous savages, is a coward? I do — W. D. Be careful; I am not in a mood to be tantalized — Mo. Murderer of innocent women and children, do you think you can frighten me? You are mistaken. You have not the courage to murder me, knowing that Silent Water would take revenge. You have the courage to murder in- nocent maidens who have no protection. W. D. (Drawing a knife.) And you dare to speak to me like this? Say your prayers, you have just time to do so, or take back your words. 26 MHPSIE. Mo. Strike, you coward, if you dare! Silent Water. [Stepping between.] Ugh! Paleface maiden no belong to Winged Demon. She Silent Wat- er's squaw. (Indians yell behind curtain. Enter, bringing in Cork, a captive. Fleetfoot brandishes tomahawk over his head.) CORK. (Pleading.) Don't kill me! Ise no paleface, Massa Injun; Let me join dis gang and I'll be a good In- jun. S. W. He no good. Squaw can have him. CORK. (Aside.) Golly, dar's Miss Mollie. Like to tell her dat Joe and Ralph are near here. (War Dance.) W. D. Warriors, go to the forks of the river and prepare for the journey toward the Sac tepees tomorrow. (Indians prepare for night.) PlN. (leaves wigwam.) I have done all that a chief- tain's daughter is asked to do. No longer will I be the daughter of a Sioux. My father threatens me with a fate I will not submit to. Not one of my own tribe give me sympathy. Wapsie alone loves me. Wapsie, I come to you, and bid farewell to the land of the Sioux, that I have loved as the deer loves its fawn. May the Great Spirit bless my father and his tribe, and touch their hearts. Pini- con goes! [Exit.] [Joe crawls to Cork and cuts cords, and creeps out — Pat gets behind tepee — Ralph crawls to Mollie with knife in hand — Cork sneezes, Pat jumps to his assistance, business. W. D. jumps toward Mollie.] W. D. Ralph Roylston! Ral. It is, you murderer. W. D. Ralph Roylston, Dave Thornton is no coward, so far as physical pain goes. I could have killed you before you spoke, had it been simply a matter of skill; but I can- not harm you. I loved your sister, worshipped her. I was not good enough for her, and your father was right. But my selfishness would not permit me to resign her to any one else. I was insane, and I murdered her. I have been wild, cruel, mad, ever since that fearful moment that she lay dead at my feet. (Ralph threatens.) Hold! until I fin- ish, then do what you will, I have no power to prevent. F MHPSIE. ?7- escaped the officers and came to this wild, lawless country, beyond the reach of the law. I have faced danger in every form, hoping that some wild beast might tear my limbs from my body or that some friendly bullet might end my worthless career. But I have been spared, for what, I know not, unless to prolong my agony or wait for you to avenge the wrong. I knew you would hunt me down! I wanted you to (he opens shirt front.) There, strike. Bury that knife in my heart. Ral. I cannot strike a man in cold blood. W. D. What matters it to the Judge of all human ac- tion, whether a man, knowing he is right, fulfills the ven- geance of Divine law, and strikes down the criminal with his own hand; or that a number of men, backed by human law and mortal intelligence, hang him by the neck until his life ebbs away. A life for a life is just. Strike. MOLLtE. Oh! Ralph, do not stain your hands with human blood! W. D. So you interfere! Ralph Roylston, you bury that knife in my heart, or I will plunge this in your sweet- heart's breast. I will count three; heed my words, for I will do all I say. One (Ralph starts) two!---thr— (Ralph steps between W. D. and Mollie. Joe fires a revolver and W. D. falls. [W. D. struggles, creeps to Ralph with knife, gasps.] Ralph, finish me! [Ralph takes knife from hand and throws away. Dies. Front drop.] SCENE IV. (Enter Wapsie.) WAPSiE. Were it not for Pinicon, whose heart is for peace, I would bring my braves and make the Sioux wolves howl for the insult heaped upon Wapsie tonight. Even the owls hoot at Wapsie for his weakness. This land does not belong to the Sioux that the chief can order Wapsie to leave it. If I should go to the lodges of my people and tell them that I did not strike the chief, they would call me a squaw. Shall I go back to the young men without the maiden I love, and tell them the chief would not let Wapsie bring her; or shall I let his heart's blood flow with this knife. A dumb brute would know better what to do. To submit to Ollechimney's crazy wish would be disgrace; to fight against Pinicon's wish would be worse. I'll--- who is that? Can it be Wapsie's song bird? Yes, it is Pinicon, 23 WHPSIE. PlNICON. (eiuer r. 1. e.) Wapsie, the heart of Pinicon can bear no more without breaking. I have pleaded for peace, offered to sacrifice my love for my brave Wapsie; I have done all things to warm the heart of the chief, only to be spurned, and, worse, threatened with a fate that I will not permit. Wapsie, I have remained with my peop'e whilejmy'heart has been with you because I wished to teach them better things than warfare; but I seem only to make matters worse. Pinicon will go with Wapsie. If war must follow, let the Great Spirit punish those who are wrong. WAPS E. Pinicon's heart is full of sunshine, and brings forth flowers; the Sioux trample them under foot, but Wap- sie and his people will benefit by their fragrance. Let the wolves follow; if we can reach Wapsie's camp, no one can harm us; if not, we can go to the good land together. PiN. Hark! The chief and his warriors are in pursuit. We must fly. Come, you cannot .battle with them alone. To meet them means your death and my disgrace. Wap- sie, kill me before you let the Sioux capture me. W T AP. Wapsie and Pinicon shall die together first. Exit. (Enter chief and braves in haste and cross stage. Cur- tain drawn on back scene. Enter Wapsie and Pinicon, 1. 1. e., pass behind rock. Indians follow. W. and P. reach point of rock as chief enters 1. 1. e.) PlN. The chief can no longer crush Pinicon's heart. Pinicon goes with Wapsie to the land of sweet peace. The love of Pinicon and your hate will clash no more. Father, you have sent me on the long journey, but I fear not; Wapsie is with Pinicon. * Ch. Ollechimney has faced death as the panther has met the hunter— -without fear. But to see Pinicon, queen of the Sioux, go down to death because of my cruelty, brings a torrent of grief to Ollechimney's heart. The winds mock my grief, the waters that swallow my children laugh at my sorrow; even the leaves of the trees dance merrily because the proud chief mourns. Ollechimney, chief of the Sioux, will kill no more. (Indian appears on rock, and points excitedly to river. The chief turns his head away.) "Cumtux, the medicine woman, was right." The tears of Pinicon have drowned my heart. Oh! great spirit. Olle- chimney bows his head in fear and humility. MHPSIE. iter ▼. SCENE i — Landscape, cave in background. Curtain discov- ers Ralph, Mollie, Joe dismounting from ponies at mouth of cave. Joe. I knew we would have a tough time of it getting away from the crazy devils, after killing Winged Demon. Might have cut the livers out of half the bucks of the tribe and not aroused as much hatred as we have by plus^ino- that dare-devil. RALPH. Well, Joe, you saved me the unpleasant duty of killing the fellow to save Mollie's life, and I want to thank you. You have braved much to serve us, and I am afraid we can never repay you. JOE. Well, old fellow, if putting that villain out of sight is reckoned a favor, we'll call it quits, for he has caused bloodshed and misery enough to suffer a thousand deaths. MOLLIE. Please, dear friends, do not refer to the un- fortunate man again. It seems as though I can never for- get the pitiful scene his death has impressed upon my mind. He was very wicked, and his death is for the good of all yet his was a character to be pitied. He had the advantages of education and suffered much from remorse for his insane deeds, and his crimes are all the more unpardon- able as he was capable of better deeds and a nobler life. He has gone to meet a just and merciful Judge, Spare my nerves arul let him rest. CORK. 'Scuse me, Miss Mollie, but I'm of the de indi- vidual opinion dat we all will hab de pleasure ob seeing his nibs sported to de brimstone land, from an etherial point of view if we don't wiggle outen dis scrape mighty sud- den. Joe. Yes, our trail has been a plain one, and we must not let the grass grow under our feet in preparing for the varments, who will soon put in an appearance, if I'm not mistaken. I don't want to frighten you, but the truth of the matter is that our chances of ever reaching a place of safety are small. I'd rather take my chances in a nest of wild cats. W 7 e have lost some of our weapons, our ammuni- tion is nearly gone, and the ponies are unfit for a race for life. We are lucky in reaching this cave, as there is a nat- 30 MHPSIE. ural advantage in its interior formation that will permit us to hold the whole tribe at bay. The Indians know this, but they will also know that they have us in a trap. We will be shut off from food, and they will try to starve us out. It is our only chance, however. Only strategy or some act of Providence can save us. Don't waste a single shot, only to save a life. MOL. Don't look so sad, Ralph. Death must come sometime, and we will at least have the pleasure of dying together. RAL. It seems cruel, darling, to die, now that we are so happy in each other's love. But that is not so sad a thought as that of your possible captivity. MOL. Do not worry. I feel that all will be well, even though we die together. Poor Pat, I presume the Indians have murdered him; for they certainly captured him. JOE. We have no time to lose. Did you see that Indian dodge behind that rock down there? It is dangerous to remain out here a moment longer. [all ex ^ cave.] CORK. (At mouth of cave]. It's a bad perdicament dis niggah's in. Here we is, buried alive, and nuffin to eat. Ise going to have something to eat, if I have to kill and skin an Indian. [Shower of arrows makes him dodge into cave. Enter Indians and yell and dance.] Fl FOOT. Silence! Fleetfoot will bring the game from the cave of the evil spirits. Bring the prisoner here. [In- dians bring in Pat.] Prepare the stake and torture the Red Head with fire. [Indians obey]. Does white man want to live? PAT. Ye devil's own bunion, do ye think I'm aching for angel wings? Fl FOOT. Indian let Red Head go if he go to cave and ask to get in. White Hunter then roll stone away and come out. Indian kill others and let Red Head go. PAT. [Aside.] So swate Mollie and the others are alive and in the hole. [Aloud.] Go to the divil wid you. Do ye take me for a decoy duck? FL FOOT. Red Head no want to save his own life then? Pat. Do you take nre for a banshee. - . ? f Lt FOOT. Me light fire. PAT. Go on wid your fireworks. [Aside] I seem to be WHPSIE. 3> badly tied up in my business affairs, and may have to go in- to liquidation. I'll try a new dodge. Listen to that! VOICE in the fly. Don't burn the Irishman. [Fleetfoot business; again starts to light fire.] Don't burn the Irish- man! PAT. The Great Spirit of the white man is angry wid yez, and warns the Indian; beware! If you attempt to burn me, I'm loikely to turn into water and drown the whole gob of yez. V. in fly. The white man tells the truth; yez better take friendly warning; I'm heap mad. PAT. Did ye listen to that; I wouldn't be in yer boots if yez ever strike the blaze. But I have a vision. The Great Spirit is purty hostile; but he don't want the earth. If you promise to let me go, and kill no one but the trap- per, we can make a swap. FL FOOT. All right, me do it; Red Head go to cave and ask white friends to let him in and we be good friends. PAT. You will promise to kill no one but the trapper, who shot Winged Demon. FL FOOT. Me let others go. Pat. Well, cut me loose. [Indians release him and go near cave and Pat goes to mouth of cave and calls:] I say, Joe, let a poor devil in. I've just given the red nagars the slip, and they are almost at my heels. JOE. Are you sure you are alone, Pat? PAT. Divil an honest Injun is there wid me. JOE. Pat, I am sorry that we cannot give you a helping hand, but the risk is too great; it takes too long to move the rock and get it in shape again. Run for your life; it's better that one die than all of us. PAT. Mucha, the divil take you for murderers. Please let me in; the red divils will be back soon, and when they find that I've kilt one of their number, I'll be a dead Irishman, immedjately. Don't go back on a friend, I wouldn't. RAL. Say, Pat, go over the hill, and we will meet you. We have discovered another outlet to the cave, near the river. Don't let the Indian see you near there. PAT. May the divil catch ivery one of yez for going back on a friend. [To Fleetfoot] Kill the whole cowardly a?- WHPSIE. gang, for all I ^care. The great spirit has soured on them for forsaking a poor orphan. Fl FOOT. Braves follow Fleetfoot; Bear Paw stay here and watch mouth of cave; give war whoop if palefaces go. [Indians exit 1 u e; Pat has business and kills Bear Paw] Pat. Joe, Ralph, Mollie, come quick; you have no time to lose. The only red heathen is the naborhood is laying here staring at his spirit making a home run by special re- quest. [Enter Joe, Ralph and Cork:] JOE. Are all the red divils out of sight. PAT. Yis, every mother's son of them, except the poor divil lying here without even his breath to kape him com- pany, Mol. [Enter from cave. J We are all glad to see you alive, Pat. Your pleading would have brought all of us to the mouth of the cave, had it not been for your powers of ventriloquism, which warned us and deceived the Indians. Ral. Yes, Pat, your wit saved us for the time being, at least. Are you ready, to move on, Mollie. Mol. Yes, I now feel strong, and feel much encouraged by Pat's strategy. By all means, let us leave here at once. [Exit; Indians return, give death song and start in pur- suit. Front shift, all cross stage.). SCENE i i. — A glen with water fall, opening at right repre- senting valley. JOE. It's no use, Ralph, draw your bowie, and sell your life as dearly as possible. My last load of powder is gone. This is no time for scenes. Ralph, old fellow, I have grown to love you and Mollie dearly, and am willing to die for you. Pat told us that the Indians would let the rest of you go if they conld get me. Good- bye. (hold out hand.) Ral. Joe, what do you mean? JOE. I'm going to sell my life more than dearly; I have been selfish too long; I'm going to accept the terms and give myself up, if they will let you go. RAL and Mol. Never. JOE. Do not interfere, it'will be t6"o late in a moment; I must die anyway; it is only a question whether you live. The world is before you; my day long passed. At least let me see what they will do. (steps forward and signals to JnZHPSIE. 33 Fleetfoot; business.) The Sioux know that the white trap- per is no coward. Many a Sioux brave has gone to the happy hunting ground by my hand. Your people would give you great honor if you should take me alive to your people to torture. Let these people go and I will give my- self up alive; refuse, and I will kill myself before your eyes. [Indians consult; Mollie and Ralph plead with Joe.] Ral. You shall not sacrifice yourself. If you give your- self up, they will overtake and murder us just the same. JOE. I will not give myself up until you have been gone an hour; if an Indian follows my promise does not go. MOL. Oh, Joe, this is terrible, it is wicked. JOE. Silence, the Indians have decided. Fl FOOT. Fleetfoot has talked with his brothers and it is said that all must die but white squaw; Silent Water still claims her, and will not let his game escape. Ral. God protect us, and forgive me this awful crime if it falls upon me to carry it out. (Stands by Molwith knife.) JOE. Ralph, a man who refuses to kill an enemy in cold blood, and then has the nerve to take the life of his sweet- heart to save her from trouble, is brave enough to die; let the whelps come; they will find us ready. Pat. Hurry up ye lazy, butchers, ye will find a whole slaughter house here. [Indians attack; enter chief.] CHF. Back! Let not a warrior strike! Ollechimney is bowed with grief; the spirit of Pinicon commands peace ! MOL. What can he mean? Joe. Listen! Pinicon and Wapsie are dead and the chief is heart-broken! He will save us! Ch. Pinicon and Wapsie have sought the happy land by plunging in the river through grief because I wanted war and listened to the wicked voice of the demon! Let these people depart in peace! [They go; scene shifts; they cross stage in front; and meet Wilton and wife.] Mrs. W. Oh ! my dear, darling girl! to see you home again fills my heart with joy and thankfulness! MOL. And we owe all to our dear friends! Wilt. Come inside and-tell us all about the perils you have passed through! WHPSIE. % ItCT v. Scene. John Wilton's home— Six months is supposed to have elapsed— curtain discovers Cork fishtng. CORK [preparing- hook], Dis yer is a happy niggah. I'se gone through the late wah and come out without a scare. I'se sat down on the Indian trouble when the Winged De- mon was called to poke the fire for Belzebub. Dah Injuns 'low to behave themseves now. Golly dars to be a weddin' too, de fust in de land. Dar, Mr. fish [throws line] please bite, that's a honey (line jerks, and Cork pulls]. Golly, I thought I had a whale [throws again]. Dat's right, little fishy; dat's right, kotch hold tight. Mrs. Wilton [from cabin door]. Cork! CORK. Hush, honey, Is got a bite, suah! (Pull.] Come outen dat, you sucker, come; steady thar — come! [Pulls out fish). Dars, de kine dis niggah picks out. MRS. W. Cork ! Cork ! ! CORK. I'se here. MRS. W. Go and tell Ralph and Mollie to come to din- ner. . ■ CORK. All right, Misses Wilton; they s just down de river a little way. I'll call call 'em. Mrs. Wilton enters cabin, Cork commences to fish again and catches hook in pants, throws, etc. Enter Pat. PAT. To think I'd be after comin to America to see a cat-fish walk. CORK. You'll see and learn lots of things if you stay here long enough. PAT. Hang on nig. I'll be wid you in a minute. CORK. Lub me alone you go away. I don't need no help in dis time. PAT. You no fisherman. Cork. Why! PAT. Fish don't like moke for bait. COUK. Dar's wha you display your ignarance. De best fishermans in the land some times use cork on dar lines; I'm a cork not bait. Go wav foolish. MRS. WILTON. Cork, call the folks to dinner right away! CORK. All right, I'se going [drag fish pole after him] 3& 5nZHPSIE, I'se just been looking for you all ober. (Enter Ralph aud Mollied.] MOLSIE. Why Cork, did you catch that fish? CORK. Yes, Yes, I catched him, Miss Mollie. MOLLIE. What a beauty! Ral. Sure you didn't buy it of some one Cork? CORK. Buy it; couldn't buy nuffln; havn't drawu any salary for three months, and de Injums picked my pocket when they captured me. But that's nuffin to what I cotched on the mouth of Otter Creek once. Why a fish that long 1 . Mrs. W. Cork? CORK. Ise coming. [Exit.) RALPH. Well, Pat, how would you like to go to work for me. I'm goin^ to build a cabin over there, and Mollie and I are going to make it the coziest little home in the west. Isn't that so? Mollie. Yes. PAT. [Aside) If he thinks I'm going to stand around there and see the two turtle doves coo, he's mistaken. [Aloud) What do ye want me for? RAL. Help build the cabin. PAT. I'm wid ye. [Enter Wilton and Joe.] WlLTON. Well, here you are, happy as the birds. I say Joe, it never entered my mind when you came to our ranche six months ago, that you was bringing my son-in- law with you. JOE. Well, Wilton, I brought you a good one. He's honest and brave, and got plenty of pluck. That's what counts in the west. An' he's hitchin' onto a gal thal'd make any man happy. Mighty glad I called that day. MOL. Yes, Mr. Allright, we shall always bless the day you came. You not only saved our lives, but was the means of making at least mine happy, after saving it. Ral. Yes, Joe, you shall have a front seat at the wed- ding, and a wedding feast such as you have not dreamed of for years. And you will always be a welcome guest at our home. ^X&IXL^ JOE. You folks are a spw+t—ia me, Guess I'll have to push on a little further into the Injun country after the WHPSIE. wedding festivities. It sort of takes the gimp out of me to sir 'round here and eat three regular meals a day. WlL. We will not listen to your going, Joe. Stay here, take up some of this land, and in a few years you will be rich. This is bound to be the greatest spot in the north- west. MOLLIE. Of course Mr. Allright is going to remain in this section. He has already deprived himself of home comforts too long. JOE. You're almighty cordial and I'll not be in a hurry to move, although the fit to hunt buffaler and bar and fight Injuns, may come on at any time, But since I settled that account for my pard, with Winged Demon, I have no special wish to leave my friends. Mo. Why don't you get married and settle down, and have a home of your own. JOE. I know you say that from the goodness of your heart, Miss Mollle; but you do not know what memories you are rakin' out of the ashes of the past. Mo. I beg your pardon, Mr. Allright, if I have unwit- tingly injured your feelings. JOE. No, no, girl, you do not understand. loved one girl once, ond can never love another. But this does not interest you. When do you commence to build, Ralph? Mo, Do go on and tell us the story of your romance. Ral. Yes, Joe, go on, I confided in you. JOE. It does not amount to much to tell, but it was every thing to me. I was always a common fellow, and very plain. I expect I did not have much get up; but I fell in love, as the saying is, just the same. The gal was a good bit brighter nor me, and I was afeared to let her know I was smitten. I plucked up courage once or twice to take her sleigh riding, and she seemed to be pleased, Well, I was about to ask her to be my wife, when a young fellow, with hiflutfng airs, came to the town and he was not slow in siding up to Nell — my, but it sounds funny to speak that name aloud once more---and of course I acted the fool and was jealous. Nell was very kind, though, when she met me, but I sulked and let her alone. One night I heard some one say she was goiitg'to marry the young fop, and my heart went almost to smash. So I wrote her a letter, s? WHPSIE. telling her my love, and came out west and hid myself in the wilds. MOLLIE. Why, didn't you go and tell her, instead of writing. JOE. I didn't have the sand. That was twenty years ago, and I presume she is married and has forgotten me altogether, although I shall never forget her. MOLLIE. Who was she, and where did she live. Joe. Her name was Nellie Bradshaw; we lived in Van- Wert, Ohio. Mr. WlLTON. Nellie Bradshaw; why she is my cousin. That accounts for it. Say Joe, you better prepare to take a trip east. This makes plain something I could never un- derstand. She has refused several good offers and is Nellie Bradshaw yet. JOE. What! not married! you must be mistaken. Mr. W. I'm not, and you had better put yourself to rights again. Nell is a sensible sort of a girl, and you two fools may mike each happy yet. I'll write to her. JOE. No! I'll go this time, but if you are mistaken I shall never show my face to a white person again, as soon as I can get beyond the border. Mr. W. Never fear, I know it is all right, Joe. We are about even now. You brought me a good son-in-law, and I send you to get a wife. [Enter Mrs. Wilton] Say mother Joe is going after cousin Nell and bring her back as his wife; my, but this country is having a boom. Aren't you glad we located here. The Indians are friendly since the old chief lost his daughter, and we are all happy. MRS. W. I must admit that the longer I remain here, the more like home it seems. And now that Mollie is to be marjied and settle near us, I can be contented. There certainly is no prettier place, any where. [Enter Cork.] CORK. I say, Marse Wilton, the old chief is out there in the grove and wants to see you. Shall I dump him in the creek. Pat. No, one in that family is enough for a river of this size. Mr. W. Bring him here. JflZHPSIE. , 3^ CORK. 'Scuse me. Mr. W. I'll go, perhaps it's best. MRS. W. I wonder what he can want; I'm always afraid an Indian is going to kick up some deviltry. MOLLIE. Poor Ollechimney has been very kind since Pinicon's tragic death. That was a sad blow for him. Here they come. [Enter Chief and Wilton,] OLLECHIMNEY. Chief has come to shake hands with his friends. [Shake.] Ollechimney has much to say. He is going away. Paleface maiden was good to Pinicon and Chief never forget. His heart is warm toward her. When all others were cruel to Pinicon you was kind to her. Ol- lechimney cannot forget his daughter, the song bird, and will always be a friend to those she loved. I know that more palefaces will come, and that my race must go; I can- not help it. The great spirit knows it is best. Ollechim- ney will fight the palefaces no more. The past makes his heart sad, and he cannot stay where all things bring up thoughts of Pinicon. Promise me one thing, and Olle- chimney gives all this land to the white squaw. Let that beautiful river in which my children lost their lives, be called after their names — Wapsie and Pinicon— for it sings the song of their love. I hear it day and night. Mo. Chief, your wish shall be law. Beautiful river, I christen thee Wapsipinicon. May the land you murmur through be blessed with peace and prosperity. While your swift current may be as impulsive as the brave Wapsie, may your waters ever be as pure and good as the sweet Pinicon. Wapsipinicon, thou shall ever remind us of the dusky lovors who sought refuge in your liquid depths ! CoRK. 'Scuse me ! CURTAIN. SnYOPSIS of PIiAY. ^55^ ACT I. — The Sioux Squaw's warning to Pinicon — the Lov- ers' tryst — Pinicon's grief — Wapsie's bravery — Winged Demon trapped — The trapper's story — Ralph Roylston's mission — The double shot — It is mine — Recognition — Tableau. ACT II. — Indian encampment — The Council Lodge — The Palefaces in the balance — Winged Demon's eloquence and cunning — The Chief's decree, "The Palefaces shall die" — Pinicon pleads for the lives of the settlers — "They shall not die; I will warn them" — The Medicine woman's sad prophesy — The chief in doubt. ACT III. — Cork's soliloquy — Pat's advice to Cork--Cork's charge and anxiety — Mrs. Wilton's troubles — Visitors — Mollie Wilton — The Indian maiden's warning — Mrs. Wil- ton's lament — "I'm so homesick" — Winged Demon makes some startling discoveries— Cork on guard — Pat's brave act — the attack—Pat's challenge. ACT IV.— Ralph's proposal — Mollie's peril— Ralph's devo- tion- Cork's brave resolve— In captivity —Ghost dance — Wapsie's pure love — "You shall not strike my father, even in anger!"— The chief threatens Wapsie— "I go, not be- cause I fear death, but that I love Pinicon" — Pinicon bids farewell to the Sioux — The rescue— Cork's blunder- Face to face— Cork redeems himself— Winged Demon's secret— Joe prevents a sad ending to the play— Wapsie and Pinicon's flight— The fatal rock— The chief's grief. ACT V— A happy darkey— A wedding on the tapis— Joe's romance— A startling disclosure— The chiefs visit— A gift and promise of peace— A christening-— Curtain.