SILVER TOKENS

Sun (Auckland), Volume I, Issue 209, 23 November 1927, Page 6

SILVER TOKENS

m DOW came you by such a name, Loud Gun? It lias a strange H sound in the ears of your Chief.” “Many moons ago, Redfeather, a white man taught me to use the Paleface weapons and I brought a tiling of smoke and fire back to my tribe. It was useless for hunting. For one buffalo, a score escaped, frightened off by the noise, yet ever since the name has clung to me.” “And you, Black Beaver?” “Long ago, a great black beaver was king of! a colony that built a mighty dam to guard against a water famine. My ancestors drew their water there when the rest of the river had run dry, and the figure of a black beaver surmounts the tribal totem pole.” “Ah, White Canoe, you have a new Brave for me?” “Even so, Redfeather. I found her at the river’s brink in the first glow of the sunrise, when the hills were bathed in amber light. And Amber Light is her name.” “And you, fair one?” “I am Evening Sky, Redfeather, for I love to walk the mountain ways when the winds are still and the heavens are flushed with rose.” “There have been many journeying* to the treasure box at the root of the birch tree. The Chiefs and Braves have not let the rust of forgetfulness accumulate on the lid. If we lend our aid, many who are sick and needy in the land of the Paleface will know the comfort that the white man’s silver alone can buy. Let us trade our skins, our necklets of shells and beads, our proud eagle feathers—for possession has no charm where a brother is in need. What say you, O Children of the Wigwam?” “Your thoughts are our thoughts, O Chief.” —REDFEATHER.