In the middle of the plain
was a great tall house, white with a red roof, and at one end hung some
bells in openings made for them in the wall. All around were a great
many houses of brush, much like this we are in, and outside and in were
crowds of Indians working like bees, at all kinds of toil, doing many
things, too, that we never do, such as planting fields with seeds, and
gathering the harvest when it was ripe; making cloth for clothes, such
as you, my son, saw those strange men wearing. Then they were making
jars and dishes of clay, and weaving baskets, such as we use."
"Suddenly, a little time before sunset, while they were at their
busiest, the bells in the big white house began to ring. Every one
stopped working and stood facing the building. Then, as the bells were
ringing, they bowed their heads. At this moment, I heard, again, the
voice which yet was not a voice, revealing to me the meaning of the
scene before my eyes. 'Behold,' I seemed to hear, 'the final end of the
Indians of this, land! See the fate which is awaiting them! All these
peoples and tribes, and others far to the north and south of here, will
be brought together into places like unto this.
Pages:
17
18
19
20
21
22
23
24
25
26
27
28
29
30
31
32
33
34
35
36
37
38
39
40
41