Chapter XV: Part 15

"We took Crazy Horse to the Post, or I would better say, he and his three hundred friends were taking _us_ there. Just as we reached the little parade ground of Camp Sheridan, Spotted Tail, able planner that he was, arrived from another direction, with not less than three hundred of his trusty Brulé soldiers, all armed with good breech loaders, principally Winchesters. This number, with more who joined soon after, gave good solid backing, and, with our ninety soldiers at quarters, ready to aid at a moment's notice,--turned the scale and kept it safely in our favor. As if by intuition, these forces of Indians formed on either side of a walk, leaving a small space, about 6' × 8', in the center. It was a wild, weird scene; and had the spectacle been for display, it would have been grand beyond compare, but, as it meant most serious business, and was fraught with danger, every nerve was under the severest strain. For once, Crazy Horse realized that his prestige had forsaken him; for once he was in the presence of one whose mastery he dare not, then and there, dispute. Spotted Tail, the coolest man of all the assembled hundreds, in the plain, Indian blanket garb, without any insignia of chieftainship, stepped into the little arena, and in a few words, delivered in a clear, ringing voice, with dignity and eloquence, addressed Crazy Horse, who was almost within touch: 'We never have trouble here; the sky is clear; the air is still and free from dust! You have come here and you must listen to me and my people! _I_ am chief here. We keep the peace. We, the Brulés, do this! _They_ obey me! and every Indian who comes here must listen to me! You say you want to come to this Agency and live peaceably. If you stay here, you must listen to me. That is all!'

"It is hard to justly render an Indian speech, especially on such an occasion; but had you heard its telling points and pauses, emphasized and punctuated by the click of loaded rifles, you would have thought it one of the most effective speeches ever delivered. Its conclusion was greeted with four hundred vociferous 'hows.' One frenzied Northern Indian, believing his friend Crazy Horse was to be harmed, wanted to sacrifice himself in his place. He caught hold of Major Burke's arm and excitedly exclaimed: 'Crazy Horse is brave, but he feels too weak to die today. Kill me! Kill me!' The Brulé guns were already loaded, and had a shot been fired, serious trouble would have begun.

"After a few more words, and as night was coming on, the crowds dispersed, and we got Crazy Horse into Major Burke's quarters to have a talk. He seemed like a frightened, trembling, wild animal, brought to bay, hoping for confidence one moment and fearing treachery the next. He had been under a severe nervous strain all day, and it plainly showed.

"Before proceeding with what was the last talk or council, let me go back a little. Soon after we heard Crazy Horse had reached our Agency, a courier arrived from Red Cloud with the following message from Clark: 'Dear Lee:--There has been no fight. Crazy Horse's band is just going into camp and will give up their guns without trouble, in all probability. Crazy Horse has skipped out for your place. Have sent after him. Should he reach your Agency, have "Spot" arrest him, and I will give any Indian who does this, $200.' Soon thereafter, a squad of fifteen or twenty Indian scouts arrived from Red Cloud, having been sent after Crazy Horse to arrest and take him back. It was understood then, and afterwards known to be a fact, that they overtook Crazy Horse as he was riding along quite leisurely with his sick wife, and when they asked him to go back with them, the prestige of his name and warlike deeds overawed them when he said: '_I am Crazy Horse. Don't touch me! I'm not running away!_'

"At our talk in Major Burke's quarters, Crazy Horse seemed to realize his helplessness. We assured him we had no reason to do him any hurt; and he promised, almost at the outset, to go with me next day to Camp Robinson.

"The best solution of the matter was to get Crazy Horse back to Red Cloud safely and quietly; let him make his talk there with the authorities, who could decide what should be done as to granting or refusing his desire for transfer to our Agency. He said he wanted to get away from trouble, that he had brought his sick wife to be treated and came for that purpose only. I told him I would remember what he said and repeat his words to the authorities at Robinson. Several of the chiefs were held responsible, under a binding Indian pledge, for Crazy Horse's safe keeping during the night and his reporting to Major Burke next morning at nine o'clock.

"Crazy Horse reported at the appointed time next morning and said he had changed his mind about going back to Red Cloud, because he 'was afraid something would happen.' He asked us to go down without him and fix up the matter for him and his people. We assured him we had no thought of harming him in any way; that he owed it to his people at Red Cloud to return, and we insisted upon his return peaceably and quietly, to which he agreed upon the following express conditions, which, under the circumstances, Major Burke and I felt we had a perfect right to make: first, that neither Crazy Horse nor myself should take any arms; second, that I would state to the Soldier Chief at Red Cloud all that had occurred at Spotted Tail Agency, and that if Crazy Horse had made a statement of the facts, I would say to the Soldier Chief that Major Burke, Spotted Tail and I were willing to receive him by transfer from Red Cloud, if the District Commander so authorized; that Crazy Horse should make his statement to the Soldier Chief as to what occurred, how 'he had been misunderstood and misinterpreted; that he wanted peace and quiet, and did not want any trouble whatever.'

"We made Crazy Horse no promise that he would be transferred to Spotted Tail Agency, because _we_ knew and _he_ knew that could be settled only by the higher authority at Red Cloud. Boiled down to a simple statement, our promise to Crazy Horse was that he should be _heard_ on his own behalf, upon arrival at Red Cloud. On this condition, he was willing to return peaceably, and with Major Burke's express consent, _I guaranteed its fulfillment_.

"Crazy Horse asked to ride horseback, which request was granted. We started from the Northern camp about 10.30 on the morning of September 5th. In the ambulance with me were Louis Bordeau, the interpreter, Black Crow and Swift Bear, two reliable Agency chiefs, and High Bear and Touch the Clouds, Crazy Horse's friends. By consent, seven Northern Indians went along to see fair play, but Good Voice and Horned Antelope, two 'reliables,' rode with Crazy Horse, to take care of him and prevent his escape.

"When about fifteen miles out, small parties of Spotted Tail's Indian soldiers began to arrive, and when half way, about twenty miles, I had over forty reliable Indian soldiers. Crazy Horse then realized that he was practically a prisoner.

"At one time, Crazy Horse dashed ahead and disappeared for a moment over the brow of a hill one hundred yards away. 'Twas here he probably obtained a knife of an Indian family stampeding to Spotted Tail. He was soon overhauled and said he went ahead only to water his horse. He was then directed to ride immediately in the rear of my ambulance, and he saw at once he was closely guarded. He seemed nervous and bewildered, and his serious expression showed clearly he was doubtful of the outcome. He said but little, but his appealing looks seemed to ask, 'Is this treachery?' Ignorant of what was in store for him, I tried to reassure his friends by telling them not to worry, that I would do exactly as had been promised, present his case, and he could be heard also.

"When within fifteen miles of Red Cloud, I sent a note to Clark by a swift Indian courier, asking whether I should take Crazy Horse to Post or Agency. I also stated briefly and explicitly that we had to use tact and discretion in securing Crazy Horse without precipitating serious trouble, and that we had promised him that he should be heard by the Commanding Officer, or the 'Soldier Chief,' when we reached Red Cloud, and I requested that arrangements be made accordingly.

"When within four miles of Red Cloud, I received this answer, in writing: 'Dear Lee:--General Bradley wishes you to drive direct to his office with Crazy Horse. Yours, Clark.'

"I had built the post and knew that the C. O.'s office was next the guard house. This brief note, being silent as to the important parts of my request, signified to my mind that Crazy Horse was to be put in the guard house, but still I hoped that _he would be allowed to say a few words_, at least, _which would redeem the promise we had made in good faith_.

"We proceeded to the post, my Indians on either side of the ambulance, with pieces ready for instant use, and Crazy Horse in the center. Upon arriving at the C. O.'s office, I was met by the Adjutant, who informed me that General Bradley directed that Crazy Horse be turned over to the officer of the day. I said: '_No, not yet!_' and asked if Crazy Horse could say a few words to the C. O. before this was done. I was referred to the General. I had Crazy Horse dismount, go into the office and sit down, and Swift Bear, Touch the Clouds, High Bear, Black Crow and Good Voice went in with him. I stationed an Indian soldier at the door with orders to admit no one while I was away. I then went to the General's quarters, some 200 yards distant, and in earnest and respectful language preferred my request, and he informed me, in no doubtful terms, that ''twas no use! The orders were peremptory; he could not change them; General Crook himself could not change them, and nothing further need be said, and the sooner I turned over Crazy Horse the better!' I tried to explain what had been done; just what had been promised in securing Crazy Horse, to all of which the General said: 'It's too late to have any talk.' I replied: '_Can he be heard in the morning?_' The General looked at me steadily for an instant, but did not answer. I was again ordered to deliver Crazy Horse to the officer of the day, and 'tell him to go with the officer of the day and not a hair of his head should be harmed."

"General Bradley was every inch a soldier. An order to him was law and gospel and met with prompt, undeviating obedience, and woe betide the one who dared question, evade or fail in obeying _his orders_. I knew the General too well to attempt to prolong the interview. I felt that as it must be done, ''twere well 'twere quickly done,' yet, as I retraced my steps to the office, I had a glimmering hope that on the _morrow_ Crazy Horse might be heard and the promise thus redeemed. I told Crazy Horse '_the night was coming on_ and the Soldier Chief said it was too late for a talk; that he said for him to go with the officer of the day and he would be taken care of and not a hair of his head would be harmed.'

"At the conclusion of my message, the chiefs uttered a joyous 'how!' Crazy Horse's face lighted up hopefully, and he stepped quickly across the room to the door and took the officer of the day, Captain Kennington, warmly by the hand. _My_ duty, my _military_ duty, was done, but I took Touch the Clouds and High Bear, Crazy Horse's friends, to one side to explain to them, as best I could, the unexpected turn affairs had taken, and how it was I had nothing more to do with the matter and that I was entirely subject to higher authorities there.

"Crazy Horse willingly went along with Captain Kennington, closely followed by two soldiers of the guard with side arms, straight to the guard house and into the main door. When he reached the prison room, he saw the dungeon cells, the small grated window, and some prisoners in irons, it was said. Across the puzzled brain of this Indian leader, whose life had been free as the wind, there no doubt flitted the terrible thought of prison chains and ignominious death. He was, then and there, at last brought face to face with what the white man had in store for him. To his mind, abandoned by his friends, alone, betrayed, and surrounded by a score or more of his armed enemies, he sprang, with the desperation of an infuriated tiger, into the main guard room, and drawing from his clothing a long, glittering knife, attempted to plunge it into Captain Kennington, but the Captain's drawn sword diverted this purpose; he then sprang outside, striking right and left and struggling to make his way to where his seven friends were.

"At this juncture, Little Big Man, an erstwhile friend and comrade of Crazy Horse, appeared on the scene. He seized Crazy Horse by the arm and attempted to force him to the ground. The great chief, even in his frenzy, was too magnanimous to plunge the knife into the heart of Little Big Man, but merely punctured his arm to free himself from his treacherous grasp. He then tried hard to kill a soldier of the guard who blocked his way. Swift Bear, Black Crow and Fast Thunder caught him, and in the struggle Captain Kennington called out: _'Kill him! Kill him!_' and just then an Infantry soldier of the guard made a successful lunge and Crazy Horse fell, mortally wounded, with a deep bayonet thrust in his right side.

"The friendly Indians prevented Crazy Horse's friends from firing on the guard. All the Indians were taken by surprise, and upon the pressing appeal and earnest demand of his friends, Crazy Horse was carried into the office from whence he came.

"Confusion followed; troops turned out, and pandemonium seemed to have broken loose in the Indian camps. Even the friendlies, though they disliked Crazy Horse, were not pleased with the result, and there was not much that could then be explained to their satisfaction.

"Crazy Horse's uncle at once sought to take revenge, but two friendlies caught and led him away. Touch the Clouds asked permission to take Crazy Horse to an Indian lodge and let him die there, but it was refused. He then asked to remain in the office with him, and that was granted on condition that he give up his gun. I recall his remarkable reply: '_You_ are many. _I_ am only one. _You_ may not trust _me_, but _I_ will trust _you_! You can _take_ my gun!'

"Crazy Horse's old father and mother were also allowed to remain with him. About 10 P.M. Touch the Clouds sent word that Crazy Horse wished to see me before he died. I went to the office. Crazy Horse was lying on the floor, as he desired. He took my proffered hand and said between his dying moans, 'My friend, I don't blame _you_ for this; had I listened to you, this trouble would not have happened to me.' He died at midnight, and thus passed away the restless, untamed spirit of as brave an Indian chief as ever drew a bow or wore a moccasin.

"After his death I was informed, and the statement is, I believe, in the official reports, that he had threatened to kill General Crook, should the General scold or speak roughly to him, at a proposed council to be held at Crazy Horse's camp, some days prior to this trouble. General Crook was on his way in an ambulance to the camp for the talk, when one of the scouts, or some one who was watching Crazy Horse, met him with news of this impending danger, and the General returned to the post without meeting Crazy Horse. This _may_ have all been true, but whether it was merely an idle threat, announced in a spirit of bravado, or if made and meant, he would have sought an excuse to carry it into execution can never be known.

"A field officer of Cavalry, then a Captain, informed me that his troop was detailed to take Crazy Horse from the guard house that night at midnight and push on rapidly to the railroad, and from there he was to be sent as a prisoner to the Dry Tortugas.

"When he died, Touch the Clouds shook hands with all present, thus showing he had no bad heart toward anyone.

"Crazy Horse's father made some pathetic remarks as to the life and character of his son. He asked that he might take the body away and give it an Indian burial, and consent was given--_the lifeless form was harmless then!_ The offer of an ambulance was declined, and at daylight, September 6th., the gray, bareheaded, wailing, wretched, old father and mother, followed on foot out of the post the travois on which was lashed the body of their only son and protector. Their pitiable condition appealed to the sympathy of everyone, and as they passed Major Burrowes' quarters, they were kindly offered something to eat, which they accepted with apparent gratitude, and then resumed their mournful journey.

"With respect to Crazy Horse, I neither eulogize nor condemn. I have merely stated the facts as they occurred, mainly under my own observation, or as told to me by reliable eye-witnesses. There is no Indian journalist, author or reporter, to present the warlike chief's side of the sad story of his tragic fate. With the lapse of time, his name and fame may linger for a while in the traditions of his tribe, and then fade away forever."

CONCLUSION.

Farewell to the Indian!

We have seen that, from the time of the very earliest European adventurers, to the great Sioux uprising of 1876, there has been but one result of the contact between the whites and those of another color. Powhatan, the diplomat, was as unable to keep his land from the Anglo-Saxon invader as was Sitting Bull, the tactician. For nearly four centuries the gradual conquest of the American continent went on apace, with frightful carnage, suffering and race hatred. The most fit survived; the people of lesser intelligence and thrift had to give way to those of superior attainments.

It has been a picturesque struggle. There has been the fierce battling against the Pamunkies of Virginia and Opechancanough, the ruthless Virginian. There has followed the strange warfare in the rude forests of Massachusetts with King Philip, and the neighboring contest with Sassacus, chief of the Pequots. Later, was the sanguinary struggle in the Mohawk Valley of New York; the wild fighting around the wooded slopes of the Hudson; the swift marches and vainglorious retreats in the dreamy forests near Lake George, and by the banks of the gray, glittering Champlain.

Then, as the restless pioneers crept southward and westward, was the carnage of Tippecanoe; the stalwart campaigning in the trackless forest of the Illinois; the battling in the land of Weatherford, the Creek conspirator; and the long-continued campaign in the dark and dismal gloom of the Florida Everglades. It was a time which put men upon their mettle, and in which no shirker or weakling could hope to have a place of responsibility.

The most desperate struggles were between 1868 and 1876, struggles which have made heroes of both red men and white. As the steel rails of the Union Pacific road crept steadily but surely across the continent, the Sioux and Cheyennes desperately endeavored to stem the overwhelming influx of white settlers, who followed in the wake of the army and the railroad. There was fighting--and plenty of it--for Custer, Crook, Miles, Forsyth and the other gallant officers of the United States army. Such chiefs as Roman Nose, Crazy Horse, Sitting Bull and Red Cloud fought with all the tenacity and strength which they could command. It was of no avail. The fields of the Rosebud; Beecher's Island; the Little Big Horn; and Slim Buttes; mark stepping-stones in the conquest of the continent by the white invader.

I, myself, have trod over the ground on which Opechancanough battled with the whites in Virginia; have packed across the wide sweep of prairie in Wyoming which once echoed with the wild shouts of the followers of Crazy Horse and Sitting Bull; have slept near the crystal waters of the Powder River; and have camped where the cañons once echoed with the rifle shots of Lieutenant Sibley, a gallant scout of Crook's command, who was with him at the battle of the Rosebud. There were no signs of the red man in this magnificent country. He had vanished from the grassy plateaus and beetling mountains, as had the game which once abounded in the fertile land.

The Indian of the plains has disappeared. Now, educated in the ways and customs of the whites, in various schools for the members of his race, he joins in the conquest of the soil, and in modern progress, by the same methods adopted by those of superior mental development. The gorgeous war bonnets, magnificent trappings, and painted accoutrements have given way to the sober dress and technical instruments of the whites. The picturesqueness and color which surrounds the native American will shortly fade away. Spirited has been the history of his struggle for the land of his forefathers, and sad has been its ending.

Farewell to the Indian of the plains!

THE END.

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=THE STORY OF RAOUL= By EVALEEN STEIN.

Cloth, 12mo, illustrated and decorated in colors $1.25

This is the story of a lad of noble birth, who, though kidnapped by an uncle who had long been an enemy to the house of Raoul, succeeds by his very kindness and lovable nature in winning the affections of the old man.

=THE CHRISTMAS MAKERS' CLUB= By EDITH A. SAWYER.

Cloth decorative, illustrated by Ada C. Williamson $1.50

One of the best books for girls that has been published for a long time. It abounds in merrymaking and the right kind of fun, and possesses a gentle humor and pathos which will touch the hearts of mothers as well as their daughters.

=ELSA'S GIFT HOME= By EDITH A. SAWYER.

Cloth decorative, illustrated by Florence E. Nosworthy $1.50

A delightful and sunshiny story which tells more about the dainty Elsa Danforth and her girl chums. How genial Uncle Ned's Christmas gift brought joy not only to Elsa and the "Christmas Club," but to many others, is the happy theme for a whole-spirited book for girls.

=THE YOUNG SECTION-HAND=; OR, THE ADVENTURES OF ALLAN WEST. By BURTON E. STEVENSON.

Square 12mo, cloth decorative, illustrated $1.50

Mr. Stevenson's hero is a manly lad of sixteen, who is given a chance as a section-hand on a big Western railroad, and whose experiences are as real as they are thrilling.

=THE YOUNG TRAIN DISPATCHER.= By BURTON E. STEVENSON.

Square 12mo, cloth decorative, illustrated $1.50

"A better book for boys has never left an American press."--_Springfield Union._

=THE YOUNG TRAIN MASTER.= By BURTON E. STEVENSON.

Square 12mo, cloth decorative, illustrated $1.50

"Nothing better in the way of a book of adventure for boys in which the actualities of life are set forth in a practical way could be devised or written."--_Boston Herald._

=CAPTAIN JACK LORIMER.= By WINN STANDISH.

Square 12mo, cloth decorative, illustrated $1.50

Jack is a fine example of the all-around American high-school boy.

=JACK LORIMER'S CHAMPIONS=; OR, SPORT ON LAND AND LAKE. By WINN STANDISH.

Square 12mo, cloth decorative, illustrated $1.50

"It is exactly the sort of book to give a boy interested in athletics, for it shows him what it means to always 'play fair.'"--_Chicago Tribune._

=JACK LORIMER'S HOLIDAYS=; OR, MILLVALE HIGH IN CAMP. By WINN STANDISH.

Illustrated $1.50

Full of just the kind of fun, sports and adventure to excite the healthy minded youngster to emulation.

=JACK LORIMER'S SUBSTITUTE=; OR, THE ACTING CAPTAIN OF THE TEAM. By WINN STANDISH.

Illustrated $1.50

On the sporting side, this book takes up football, wrestling, tobogganing, but it is more of a _school_ story perhaps than any of its predecessors.

=THE RED FEATHERS.= By G. E. T. ROBERTS.

Cloth decorative, illustrated $1.50

"The Red Feathers" tells of the remarkable adventures of an Indian boy who lived in the Stone Age, many years ago, when the world was young.

=FLYING PLOVER.= By G. E. THEODORE ROBERTS.

Cloth decorative. Illustrated by Charles Livingston Bull $1.00

Squat-By-The-Fire is a very old and wise Indian who lives alone with her grandson, "Flying Plover," to whom she tells the stories each evening.

=COMRADES OF THE TRAILS.= By G. E. THEODORE ROBERTS.

Cloth decorative. Illustrated by Charles Livingston Bull $1.50

The story of a fearless young English lad, Dick Ramsey, who, after the death of his father, crosses the seas and takes up the life of a hunter in the Canadian forests.

=MARCHING WITH MORGAN.= HOW DONALD LOVELL BECAME A SOLDIER OF THE REVOLUTION. By JOHN V. LANE.

Cloth decorative, illustrated $1.50

This is a splendid boy's story of the expedition of Montgomery and Arnold against Quebec.

=RODNEY, THE RANGER=; OR, WITH DANIEL MORGAN ON TRAIL AND BATTLEFIELD. By JOHN V. LANE.

Cloth decorative, illustrated $1.50

Young Rodney Allison, although but fifteen years of age, played a man's part in the troublous times preceding the American Revolution and in the War itself.

=CHINESE PLAYMATES= By NORMAN H. PITMAN.

Small cloth 12mo, illustrated $1.00

A worth-while, happy little story about two little Chinese boys, Lo-Lo and Ta-Ta, and the strange fortunes that befell them when they wandered from home.

COSY CORNER SERIES

It is the intention of the publishers that this series shall contain only the very highest and purest literature,--stories that shall not only appeal to the children themselves, but be appreciated by all those who feel with them in their joys and sorrows.

The numerous illustrations in each book are by well-known artists, and each volume has a separate attractive cover design.

Each 1 vol., 16mo, cloth $0.50

_By ANNIE FELLOWS JOHNSTON_

=THE LITTLE COLONEL= (Trade Mark.)

The scene of this story is laid in Kentucky. Its heroine is a small girl, who is known as the Little Colonel, on account of her fancied resemblance to an old-school Southern gentleman, whose fine estate and old family are famous in the region.

=THE GIANT SCISSORS=

This is the story of Joyce and of her adventures in France. Joyce is a great friend of the Little Colonel, and in later volumes shares with her the delightful experiences of the "House Party" and the "Holidays."

=TWO LITTLE KNIGHTS OF KENTUCKY=

WHO WERE THE LITTLE COLONEL'S NEIGHBORS.

In this volume the Little Colonel returns to us like an old friend, but with added grace and charm. She is not, however, the central figure of the story, that place being taken by the "two little knights."

=MILDRED'S INHERITANCE=

A delightful little story of a lonely English girl who comes to America and is befriended by a sympathetic American family who are attracted by her beautiful speaking voice. By means of this one gift she is enabled to help a school-girl who has temporarily lost the use of her eyes, and thus finally her life becomes a busy, happy one.

=CICELY AND OTHER STORIES FOR GIRLS=

The readers of Mrs. Johnston's charming juveniles will be glad to learn of the issue of this volume for young people.

=AUNT 'LIZA'S HERO AND OTHER STORIES=

A collection of six bright little stories, which will appeal to all boys and most girls.

=BIG BROTHER=

A story of two boys. The devotion and care of Stephen, himself a small boy, for his baby brother, is the theme of the simple tale.

=OLE MAMMY'S TORMENT=

"Ole Mammy's Torment" has been fitly called "a classic of Southern life." It relates the haps and mishaps of a small negro lad, and tells how he was led by love and kindness to a knowledge of the right.

=THE STORY OF DAGO=

In this story Mrs. Johnston relates the story of Dago, a pet monkey, owned jointly by two brothers. Dago tells his own story, and the account of his haps and mishaps is both interesting and amusing.

=THE QUILT THAT JACK BUILT=

A pleasant little story of a boy's labor of love, and how it changed the course of his life many years after it was accomplished.

=FLIP'S ISLANDS OF PROVIDENCE=

A story of a boy's life battle, his early defeat, and his final triumph, well worth the reading.

_By EDITH ROBINSON_

=A LITTLE PURITAN'S FIRST CHRISTMAS=

A story of Colonial times in Boston, telling how Christmas was invented by Betty Sewall, a typical child of the Puritans, aided by her brother Sam.

=A LITTLE DAUGHTER OF LIBERTY=

The author introduces this story as follows:

"One ride is memorable in the early history of the American Revolution, the well-known ride of Paul Revere. Equally deserving of commendation is another ride,--the ride of Anthony Severn,--which was no less historic in its action or memorable in its consequences."

=A LOYAL LITTLE MAID=

A delightful and interesting story of Revolutionary days, in which the child heroine, Betsey Schuyler, renders important services to George Washington.

=A LITTLE PURITAN REBEL=

This is an historical tale of a real girl, during the time when the gallant Sir Harry Vane was governor of Massachusetts.

=A LITTLE PURITAN PIONEER=

The scene of this story is laid in the Puritan settlement at Charlestown.

=A LITTLE PURITAN BOUND GIRL=

A story of Boston in Puritan days, which is of great interest to youthful readers.

=A LITTLE PURITAN CAVALIER=

The story of a "Little Puritan Cavalier" who tried with all his boyish enthusiasm to emulate the spirit and ideals of the dead Crusaders.

=A PURITAN KNIGHT ERRANT=

The story tells of a young lad in Colonial times who endeavored to carry out the high ideals of the knights of olden days.

_By OUIDA_ (_Louise de la Ramee_)

=A DOG OF FLANDERS=

A CHRISTMAS STORY

Too well and favorably known to require description.

=THE NURNBERG STOVE=

This beautiful story has never before been published at a popular price.

_By FRANCES MARGARET FOX_

=THE LITTLE GIANT'S NEIGHBOURS=

A charming nature story of a "little giant" whose neighbors were the creatures of the field and garden.

=FARMER BROWN AND THE BIRDS=

A little story which teaches children that the birds are man's best friends.

=BETTY OF OLD MACKINAW=

A charming story of child life.

=BROTHER BILLY=

The story of Betty's brother, and some further adventures of Betty herself.

=MOTHER NATURE'S LITTLE ONES=

Curious little sketches describing the early lifetime, or "childhood," of the little creatures out-of-doors.

=HOW CHRISTMAS CAME TO THE MULVANEYS=

A bright, lifelike little story of a family of poor children with an unlimited capacity for fun and mischief.

=THE COUNTRY CHRISTMAS=

Miss Fox has vividly described the happy surprises that made the occasion so memorable to the Mulvaneys, and the funny things the children did in their new environment.

Transcriber's Note:

Italics are indicated by _underscores_. Bolds are indicated by =equal signs=. Small capitals have been rendered in full capitals. A number of minor spelling errors have been corrected without note.

End of Project Gutenberg's Famous Indian Chiefs, by Charles H. L. Johnston