we . LITERARY POETRY AND A SHORT STORY “INDIAN FAREWELL” By KATHERINE FERNELIUS No more on the shores of the inland sea, By mountain stream and o'er prairie wild, Hunting the buck over hill and lea, Wanders the redman as nature’s child. His primitive life and broad hunting grounds Were taken away by a stranger band Of men with faces pale as milk, Newcomers long since in his native land. Well may you weep, poor Indian friend, For the free, happy life that has passed away, For the plentiful game and the peaceful life, For waning fast is the Indian’s day. The howl of the wolf and stamp of the herd Sound no more on the rolling plain; The murk and smoke of cities now spread Where undisturbed the snows had lain. The lone tepee on the starlit knoll, Where the young squaw waits for her hunter chief, Rocking her babe with a lullaby, Is gone for aye, like the fallen leaf. Usurping your grounds are the white man’s homes, His factories, and his great machines | That roar and buzz and shriek and grate Where once were peaceful woodland scenes. O happy life! O carefree times! What would you not give to have them still; To roam the plain in freedom full, To hear the wolves howl on the hill!