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Show THE GREAT INDIAN SCARE OF '64. 79 The beautiful bud sprinkled with the morning dews of life, was taken to unfold its petals in Paradise. Like a piece of rare sculpture he lay, the long heavy lashes rested upon his marble cheeks, and the golden locks clustered around his chiseled features, that bore no trace of pain. I reached Denver carrying in my arms the precious bundle of mortality. I was ill for months, the savage war whoop was ringing in my ears, and the sight of a hatchet, ax, or arrow, conveyed terror to my heart. It seemed that my faculties would never recover their former intelligence. I often think of the heroic negro driver, and feel that too much honor cannot be given him for so bravely enduring the strain which only a noble nature could have borne." CHAPTER XVIII. THE GREAT INDIAN SCARE OF '64. To call it the "reign of terror" but feebly expresses the state of affairs existing in Colorado in 1864. "Then Lo, the poor red-skin, with unscrupulous mind, Boldly scalped, stole our stock, and left no hoof behind. Occasionally a straggling Indian mounted on the inevitable pony, would ride straight up to the windows, (for fences were few and far between in those days,) flatten his face against the pane and scream, ' how,' which, although a polite greeting enough, served to frighten timid women and children well nigh out of their wits. A lady in replying to such a salute, opened her mouth wide and lifted her false teeth out on her tongue. The Indian, who had |
