-NRLF 
 

THE LIBRARY 
 
 OF 
 
 THE UNIVERSITY 
 OF CALIFORNIA 
 
 PRESENTED BY 
 
 PROF. CHARLES A. KOFOID AND 
 MRS. PRUDENCE W. KOFOID 
 
STARVED ROCK 
 LEGENDARY 
 
 BY 
 
 HELEN MARTIN DONOVAN 
 
 The O'Donnell Printing Company 
 
 Chicago, I Illinois 
 
 1915 
 
Copyright, March, 1915 
 by Helen Martin Donovan 
 
< FOREWORD 
 
 )LOMI , the daughter 
 of an Illini Chief, 
 lived more than a 
 century and a half 
 ago, when The Rock 
 was young in history. 
 
 The tale of "Dave and Mary" 
 relates the actual occurrences 
 in the lives of those two in- 
 teresting personages at that 
 historic spot, but twenty years 
 last past. 
 
 THE AUTHOR. 
 
 M313225 
 
Lolomi of the Illinois 
 
 A Legend of 
 Lover's Leap 
 
Lolomi of the Illinois 
 
 JN THE Indian Village Back in 
 the Woods dwelt a tribe of the 
 peaceful Illinois. The Chief's 
 daughter, Lolomi, was idolized by all 
 because of her lovableness and beau- 
 ty. This particular evening Chief 
 Blackhawk called his daughter to him. 
 "Lolomi," he tenderly said, "my Sun- 
 set of Life is nearing and it is my 
 earnest wish that you wed Uncas, son 
 of Chief Chassagoac." 
 
 Caressingly Lolomi laid her head 
 upon her father's arm and said sim- 
 
 " I love him, father. " 
 
 Slowly the old chief stroked her 
 smooth black hair and ran his fingers 
 lovingly down the long black braids. 
 
 ' ' Today he will come, my daughter, 
 and the wedding shall be planned. ' ' 
 
10 LOLOMI OF THE ILLINOIS 
 
 With his arm placed about Lolomi, 
 Chief Blackhawk gently led her down 
 the trail, which wound its way down to 
 the river. They reached the water's 
 edge and sank down to rest and medi- 
 tate. Together they watched the great, 
 restless expanse of water. Behind 
 them stretched the dense, interminable 
 forest ; from a nearby ravine came the 
 sad wail of the whippoor-will. The 
 closing day about them was like a sol- 
 emn benediction. A slight rustling of 
 the branches and Chief Chassagoac 
 and his son, Uncas, stood before them. 
 
 These two old chiefs had long been 
 bosom friends. Years had they 
 planned that their respective tribes 
 would be united through the marriage 
 of Uncas and Lolomi. 
 
 After greetings the two old chiefs 
 walked back to Blackhawk ? s village, 
 leaving the lovers alone. 
 
 Side by side they sat on the branch 
 of a fallen tree, and at last Uncas 
 broke the silence. 
 
LOLOMI OF THE ILLINOIS 11 
 
 "Lolomi, I am going away, but I 
 shall return at the half-moon and 
 make you iny bride." 
 
 " Going away?" questioned Lolomi, 
 as though she had not heard aright. 
 
 "Yes, I am going to the village of 
 Chicagou. I start at sunrise. Come, 
 and I will show you my canoe. At 
 break of day, following the half -moon, 
 and as its first lights break over the 
 forests," and he pointed to the densely 
 covered hills, "you may watch for me 
 as I come down the stream." 
 
 With a troubled look, she turned 
 away. 
 
 "Lolomi, you must not doubt me. 
 Come." 
 
 Together they followed the trail up 
 along the river. On its bank lay his 
 canoe. 
 
 "Here is my canoe; on its bow I 
 painted a half-moon and star. This 
 signifies that at the half -moon I shall 
 return to you. The star is the morn- 
 ing star the morning of our happi- 
 
12 LOLOMI OP THE ILLINOIS 
 
 ness ; that morning we shall wed. The 
 tribe of Chief Blackhawk, your father, 
 and Chief Chassagoac, my father, shall 
 be as one." 
 
 From the distant woods came the 
 lone call of the whippoor-will. Lolomi 
 trembled in her lover's arms. 
 
 "I'll be just that lonely without you, 
 Uncas ; think of me when you hear its 
 call and hasten your return." 
 
 ' 6 Fear not, my loved one, for I shall 
 think always of you. I must go now. 
 Come to the cliff in the morning and 
 bid me farewell." 
 
 Fondly he pressed her to him, and 
 springing into the canoe, was soon lost 
 in the darkening stream beyond. 
 
 The following morning the village 
 of Kaskaskia was astir long before 
 daydawn, preparing the chief's son for 
 his journey, while up the river a few 
 miles, on the summit of the great 
 Eock, stood Lolomi eagerly watching. 
 She had waited near the river bank, 
 
LOLOMI OF THE ILLINOIS 13 
 
 but knowing she could see him com- 
 ing sooner from the rock she had 
 climbed to the very top. The cool 
 October air blew about her. The new- 
 born sun crept slowly above the dis- 
 tant hills, lighting the dense forest of 
 red and gold and bringing more clear- 
 ly to the vision of Lolomi the wonder- 
 ful painting of the Master's hand. Her 
 small brown hands were locked to- 
 gether as though silently pleading to 
 the Great Spirit to aid her departing 
 lover and grant his safe return at the 
 half-moon. 
 
 Breathlessly she watched the silvery 
 stream and at last Uncas appeared in 
 the distance. Turning she fled down 
 the steep stone steps and eagerly 
 reached the river's edge. 
 
 "Yes, there is the half -moon and 
 star on the canoe's bow our morning 
 star," she murmured. Up the mid- 
 stream Uncas rowed, waving a fare- 
 well as he went. A sob fell from her 
 lips as the small canoe disappeared in 
 
14 LOLOMI OF THE ILLINOIS 
 
 the bend of the river. "Why did he 
 not stop," she thought. 
 
 Sadly she passed up the old trail, 
 which wended its way to The Indian 
 Village Back in the Woods. The birds ' 
 early chatter, the squirrels frisking 
 about, an occasional deer fleeing from 
 her and the glorious beauties of moth- 
 er nature, whom she loved so, seemed 
 lost upon her now. Her heart was 
 heavy. Some coming events seemed 
 to ' ' cast their shadows before. ' ' Dully 
 she reached the village. 
 
 Indian chiefs and squaws moved 
 about. At sight of her father she 
 forced herself to be cheerful. 
 
 "My daughter, you are happy," he 
 querried. 
 
 "Yes, father, but Uncas has just 
 gone and I am lonely. ' ' 
 
 He wrapped his arm about her and 
 said: 
 
 "You have these days to prepare for 
 the most memorable event of a life- 
 time and you have not a moment for 
 
LOLOMI OF THE ILLINOIS 15 
 
 sadness. These days shall be filled 
 with pleasure for my daughter." 
 
 She slipped away to her teepee and 
 threw herself amongst her blankets. 
 
 Happy little Indian children romped 
 about in the village. 
 
 "Lolomi! Oh, let's get Lolomi!" 
 they chorused. 
 
 To her teepee they ran, loudly call- 
 ing her name. She was their idol. Lo- 
 lomi all happiness all love. 
 
 Hearing their approach, she quickly 
 stepped without, and hiding her 
 troubled thoughts she joined the 
 merry children. 
 
 "Come, Lolomi, to the canyon and 
 tell us again the story of the Devil's 
 claw prints in the stone." 
 
 Small brown Hands clasped hers and 
 up into the canyon they went. Soon 
 her doubts were at rest. Chattering 
 happy little ones, the beautiful, restful 
 scenes about her and, forgetting all 
 else, she began again the story of 
 "The Devil's Claw Prints." 
 
16 LOLOMI OF THE ILLINOIS 
 
 "Once upon a time, long, long ago, 
 an evil spirit with great wicked claws 
 roamed about in this peaceful valley, 
 terrifying little children like you all. 
 In vain did your forefathers plead 
 with the good spirits to overpower 
 this monster. He lived in this very 
 cany on, " and Lolomi's voice sank to a 
 frightened whisper in order that she 
 might more strongly impress her fas- 
 cinated listeners. With horrified ex- 
 pressions they crept more closely to 
 her. 
 
 "Yes," she repeated, "he lived 
 right here. He never troubled older 
 people because he knew too well that 
 they would shoot him with an arrow, 
 and so he kept far away from them. 
 One day a little boy disappeared and 
 the whole village turned out and 
 searched the woods for him. 
 
 Canyons, ravines, tall prairie grass 
 and the river bank were searched time 
 and again, but always they returned 
 with the same answer. After that chil- 
 
LOLOMI OF THE ILLINOIS 17 
 
 dren were more afraid than ever to go 
 out of sight of the lodges; they could 
 never wander about in all these beau- 
 tiful woods nor gather the pretty flow- 
 ers, nor wade in the cool streams, nor 
 climb the high rocks and oh, scarcely 
 anything could they do. And then one 
 night, what do you think, the angry 
 Storm Spirit strode forth and with a 
 mighty wave of his hand struck this 
 huge monster and hurled him down 
 into this very canyon. His hideous 
 claws struck the stone, and right there 
 where you see those prints he was 
 found the next morning. And over 
 there in that cave the little boy was 
 found and he was all right, and they 
 took him back to the village and a 
 great feast took place and every one 
 was happy. ' ' 
 
 They clapped their hands and 
 coaxed Lolomi to tell legend after 
 legend. 
 
 Days passed by and this eventful 
 evening found Lolomi alone on the 
 
18 LOLOMI OF THE ILLINOIS 
 
 prodigious rock. Once more she was 
 herself. The clear, bright half-moon 
 stood out in the sky above. 
 
 "In the morning," she murmured 
 happily, "he will return." 
 
 The call of the whippoor-will did 
 not trouble her now. She was not 
 alone, for surely in spirit Uncas was 
 with her. The Great Spirit had 
 watched. Uncas would return with 
 the rising of the sun, she thought, in 
 keeping with the custom of her people 
 in choosing the day dawn as the 
 charmed time for initiating all their 
 important undertakings. 
 
 At dawning Lolomi parted the cur- 
 tains of her tent and crept out. Down 
 the long rows of teepees she passed 
 until the trail to the Rock was reached. 
 The woods about were silent as the 
 tomb. On she fled. Her small, san- 
 dled feet seemed scarce to touch the 
 ground. Up the steep, craggy steps 
 she sprang to the summit of the rock. 
 Nearly to the edge she went in her 
 
LOLOMI OF THE ILLINOIS 19 
 
 eager expectation, for was this not her 
 wedding morning? Had they not made 
 all preparations in the village for her 
 happy, solemn event? Shading her 
 eyes from the early sun's rays, she 
 eagerly scanned the up-stream. Round 
 the wooded island came a canoe. 
 
 "Uncas, my beloved," she breathed, 
 and raising her eyes she thanked the 
 Great Spirit for her lover's safe re- 
 turn. 
 
 Nearer and nearer came the canoe. 
 She watched for the half-moon and 
 star on its bow. Her heart beat madly. 
 In her ecstacy she seemed scarce to 
 breathe. Dangerously near the edge 
 of the cliff she moved. Now she was 
 able to discern the details. It was not 
 the canoe. The half-moon and star 
 were missing. Uncas had had some 
 misshap and had taken another canoe, 
 that he might not disappoint her. And 
 then what was the matter with her? 
 Had her great joy turned to madness? 
 
20 LOLOMI OF THE ILLINOIS 
 
 Uncas looked strange. A voice from 
 below called to her. 
 
 "I bring you a message," the 
 strange voice called. 
 
 " Where is Uncas?" 
 
 "When you come down I shall tell 
 you, ' ' he answered, as he rowed to the 
 water's edge and sprang to the bank. 
 She reached his side and repeated 
 painfully. 
 
 "Where is Uncas I" 
 
 He did not answer. 
 
 "When will he return?" she ques- 
 tioned, unheeding his silence. 
 
 "He will never come back," he 
 whispered with bowed head. 
 
 She stared at him for a moment. 
 Then slowly repeated his words, 
 "Never come back." 
 
 At sight of the anguish written in 
 the depths of her eyes, the young 
 brave felt he could not tell her more. 
 A child-woman she seemed. A doe 
 nearing the water for a drink glanced, 
 and with a frightened, sad look in its 
 
LOLOMI OF THE ILLINOIS 21 
 
 eyes, turned and fled. Lolomi turned 
 once more to the bearer of sad tidings. 
 
 "He is dead?" Her lips seemed 
 scarce to form the words. 
 
 "No," he said, "he sent me with the 
 message that he had wed another and 
 would never return to The Indian Vil- 
 lage Back in the Woods. ' ' 
 
 ' ' He has wed another, ' ' she 
 faintly gasped, and into her eyes 
 sprang the same frightened look he 
 had just seen in the eyes of the doe. 
 She swayed as though about to fall. He 
 hurried to her side. In an instant she 
 regained her strength and, turning, 
 she fled like a mountain lioness up the 
 steep stone steps. Intuitively he 
 guessed her meaning and sprang after 
 her. , To the edge of the cliff she ran. 
 Beaching her, he struggled to prevent 
 her leaping into the waters far below. 
 
 Back to the village he half carried 
 her. At sight of his daughter and 
 after learning the young brave *s story, 
 Chief Blackhawk took the broken- 
 
22 LOLOMI OF THE ILLINOIS 
 
 hearted child in his arms, and thank- 
 ing the messenger for saving her he 
 turned away. 
 
 In awe-stricken groups squaws gos- 
 siped. All preparations for the wed- 
 ding which was expected to take place 
 that morning were forgotten in this 
 new-found sorrow of their beloved 
 Lolomi. 
 
 4 4 My daughter, I would willingly lay 
 down my life could I have spared you 
 this sorrow, but it was written in your 
 destiny and none could prevent it. 
 You will forget. Youth and beauty 
 will help you." 
 
 Leaving her in tender care, the 
 broken old chief walked slowly away 
 into the deep forest, there alone to 
 resign himself to his daughter's sor- 
 row and his own bitter disappoint- 
 ment. 
 
 Each morning a guard watched Lo- 
 lomi. Well they knew that only at 
 the rising of the sun would she at- 
 
LOLOMI OF THE ILLINOIS 23 
 
 tempt her frightful leap from the rock. 
 Could she not then succeed, patient- 
 ly she would wait for the following 
 morning. Weary days passed. Days 
 whose early mornings found 'Lolomi 
 watching and whose loving guard 
 closely followed. 
 
 "She will forget," said Chief 
 Blackhawk. 
 
 "To the South for the winter we 
 shall soon go and she will forget," 
 sadly repeated his friend, Chief Chas- 
 sagoac. 
 
 But Lolomi did not forget, and one 
 morning she eluded the guard and fled 
 to the summit of the massive rocik and 
 hurled herself into the silent, merci- 
 less waters below. Closely behind fol- 
 lowed the guard, but too late. Rev- 
 erently they raised her from the wa- 
 ter. She still breathed. They laid her 
 on the river bank and tried to revive 
 her. She slowly opened her dark eyes 
 and one word fell from her lips. 
 
 "Uncas." 
 
24 LOLOMI OF THE ILLINOIS 
 
 From The Indian Village Back in 
 the Woods two days later a mournful 
 funeral cortege wound its way, headed 
 by their black-robed friend, who had 
 come to teach them the better life. Up 
 the old trail, past deep, hollow can- 
 yons, cool, shaded ravines, around 
 massive rocks, back to the Indian 
 burying grounds, they were taking 
 away their Lolomi their bright ray 
 of love and happiness. 
 
 Gently up into the tree-grave they 
 placed her, facing the rising sun, that 
 her spirit might find its way. The low 
 moan of the leaves above seemed to 
 sigh a parting requiem and the soul 
 of Lolomi had found its Happy Hunt- 
 ing Ground. 
 
 In the distant village of Chicagou 
 Uncas was happy with his new-found 
 bride. 
 
Dave and Mary 
 
 A Tale of 
 
 Starved Rock 
 
 Twenty Years 
 
 Ago 
 
Dave and Mary 
 
 years had elapsed since 
 Dave took employment on my 
 farm, and during all that time 
 he had worked faithfully, never com- 
 plaining of the irksomeness of his la- 
 bor; but often in his eyes I had seen 
 the longing to be free. The Indian 
 blood came strongly to the fore when, 
 his day's work done, he wandered 
 away among the ravines, canyons and 
 up the old trail along the river's edge. 
 Frequently I had seen him roaming 
 about the spot where once stood an In- 
 dian village. There still remained the 
 marks where stood the teepees of his 
 forefathers, and scattered about ex- 
 posed by recent rains were pieces of 
 flint found useful by his ancestors in 
 the hunt or on the warpath. These 
 
30 DAVE AND MARY 
 
 he lovingly gathered and put in his 
 pocket. 
 
 One day as I was preparing to drive 
 to the nearest town he came to me and 
 said: 
 
 "Mr. Weymouth, will you please 
 bring a lady back with you tonight! 
 She is coming from the East on the 
 seven-fifteen train, and it will be too 
 dark for her to walk out to the cot- 
 tage." 
 
 The request seemed a strange one, 
 but needless to say, I readily assented. 
 On my way I fell to wondering why a 
 lady was coming to visit Dave. He 
 was always reserved and seldom men- 
 tioned his life as spent previous to 
 coming to the Bock. He had been 
 married for five years and seemed de- 
 voted to his wife and two small sons. 
 That the guest he expected must be a 
 relative of his wife I became con- 
 vinced. 
 
 I arrived at the station. The train 
 had come and gone. Looking about I 
 
DAVE AND MARY 31 
 
 saw a woman coming toward me, who 
 seemed instinctively to know me and 
 said: 
 
 "You are Mr. Weymouth?" 
 "Yes," I answered, "and you are 
 the lady Dave expects?" 
 
 Twilight was gathering and still I 
 felt a soft, wistful expression had 
 passed over her face as she bent her 
 head in reply. She did not speak a 
 word during the long trip back to The 
 Rock. From the dense and almost in- 
 terminable forest rose the moon, re- 
 splendent and glorious, and I looked 
 into her face. She was beautiful. Her 
 features were small and regular. Her 
 face in anticipation wore a look of 
 tender longing. Soft, golden-brown 
 hair wreathed her features. Her eyes 
 were large and as blue as the heavens 
 into which she so silently gazed. She 
 was quietly though richly dressed. It 
 seemed so strange that she asked no 
 questions. Every one wished to know 
 of this historical spot to which she was 
 
32 DAVE AND MARY 
 
 journeying. She had no trace of 
 the Indian blood in her veins I was 
 satisfied, but was a gentlewoman of 
 the white race. 
 
 We arrived at the farm and I led the 
 way up the trail to the cottage. It 
 seemed a desecration to change her 
 train of thoughts, so we walked on in 
 silence. As we neared French Canyon 
 I pointed out to her Dave's cottage. It 
 stood side by side with another back 
 under the foot of a hill. A dim light 
 shone from a window. Dave, his wife 
 and children met us at the door. With 
 a low sob of happiness my late pas- 
 senger threw herself into Dave's 
 eager, outstretched arms. Turning, I 
 wended my way thoughtfully home- 
 ward. Down the old trail I went with 
 these thoughts surging through my 
 mind. Who could the woman be? 
 What relation did she bear to Dave? 
 Why was she here ? That it was prop- 
 er for her to visit them I felt positive, 
 for had it not been, Dave ? s wife would 
 
DAVE AND MARY 33 
 
 have objected. Being thus convinced, 
 I turned my thoughts to other things. 
 
 The morning following Dave came 
 to me and made this simple request : 
 
 ' ' Mr. Weymouth, will you please al- 
 low my guest to occupy the cottage ad- 
 joining ours?" 
 
 "Why certainly, Dave," I gladly as- 
 sented, ' ' she is most welcome. ' ' 
 
 Thanking me, he turned away. 
 
 Later in the day things became more 
 serious when, on reaching the fields, to 
 find Dave and the woman together, 
 and she was husking corn! She was 
 wearing a dress and sunbonnet of 
 Dave's wife, but the homely garb did 
 not disguise her beauty. Her soft, 
 well-moulded hands and dainty man- 
 ner spoke loudly of being unaccus- 
 tomed to such work. 
 
 Thus the days went by. Dave was 
 as faithful as he had always been and 
 every day found the mysterious 
 stranger by his side in the corn field. 
 The intense heat of the sun upon one 
 
34 DAVE AND MARY 
 
 occasion caused her to faint and it was 
 pathetic to see how tenderly the half- 
 breed restored her. He begged her to 
 return to the cottage, but she remained 
 obdurate and once again took up her 
 dreary task. 
 
 More than one hundred years before 
 these happenings several tribes of the 
 Illinois Indians had villages in this 
 immediate vicinity. The ruins of one 
 particular village interested me great- 
 ly, and one evening, several weeks 
 after the arrival of the stranger, I 
 went into a cool canyon nearby it to 
 rest. Presently I heard voices above 
 and recognized them as belonging to 
 Dave and his visitor. It seemed un- 
 principled to remain, but I gave in to 
 my curiosity. 
 
 ' ' And there was the home of my an- 
 cestors," Dave was saying; " there 
 are still the marks where their teepees 
 stood, and in daylight we shall go 
 there and you can see it all then. On 
 
DAVE AND MARY 35 
 
 the opposite side of the creek is still 
 another part of the village." 
 
 He continued to explain and I 
 slipped noiselessly away. 
 
 The evening following I wondered 
 why Dave had not returned at the 
 usual time with the horses from the 
 field, and set out to look for them. 
 Twilight was fast falling and I could 
 scarce find my way. To my surprise, 
 I came upon the horses, hitched to the 
 wagon, standing amongst the corn 
 stalks, and a short distance away in 
 the gathering shadows I saw two fig- 
 ures. They were Dave and Mary, for 
 I had heard him call her by that name. 
 They were seated and Dave held her 
 closely in his embrace. I was shocked 
 at such behavior on the part of Dave 
 and spoke sharply, questioningly : 
 
 "Dave?" 
 
 He rose quickly, as did also his com- 
 panion. I asked her to leave Dave and 
 me alone. A look of unutterable sor- 
 
36 DAVE AND MARY 
 
 row crossed Dave's face as Mary 
 turned and walked away in the dark- 
 ness. 
 
 "Dave," I indignantly said, "yon 
 must send this lady away. To say I 
 am bitterly disappointed in you is ex- 
 pressing it weakly; your first thought 
 should be for your wife and little boys ; 
 it is not fair that they should suffer 
 through the gossip that will surely fol- 
 low your actions of the past six 
 weeks. ' ' 
 
 I looked for some explanation, but 
 Indian-like, he remained silent. 
 
 "I have never seen an unprincipled 
 act done by you since I've known you, 
 and now you must make your choice. 9 ' 
 
 In anguished words the Indian an- 
 swered solemnly, earnestly: 
 
 "She shall go tonight." 
 
 As he uttered the words, a low moan 
 fell on the stillness about us and Mary 
 came out of the shadows. 
 
 "Mr. Weymouth," she pleaded, 
 "please let me speak with you. This 
 
DAVE AND MARY 37 
 
 is not Dave's fault; he does not de- 
 serve to be reprimanded. ' ' 
 
 Her voice was soft and winning, 
 and, well I consented. 
 
 Dave walked away. 
 
 Down the old trail Mary and I 
 walked until we came to the foot of the 
 great Eock. 
 
 ' * Will you go up there with me?" 
 she questioned, pointing to the summit 
 far above us. 
 
 Up its steep craggy side we climbed 
 until the top was reached. 
 
 Seated on a fallen tree she turned 
 her face wistfully to the newly rising 
 moon. Its shimmery light fell caress- 
 ingly on the deep forest, the ever- 
 shaded ravines, the hollow canyons 
 and the silently flowing body of water 
 below us. The spot seemed to give her 
 courage and she began : 
 
 "Mr. Weymouth, have you ever in 
 your life loved another? Oh," she said 
 impatiently, "not for a day nor a year, 
 but as long as you can remember; one 
 
DAVE AND MARY 
 
 who was an inspiration, in whose pres- 
 ence you lived in another world, away 
 from the commonplace, one who loved 
 you dearly in return, one with whom 
 you were ideally happy and away ut- 
 terly lonely?" 
 
 Her voice had fallen to a low, pen- 
 sive note and her little hands, torn and 
 bruised from their recent work, were 
 unconsciously outstretched to me. 
 
 ' ' Most twenty years ago, ' ' she went 
 on, "in a small town down on the Ohio 
 Eiver lived two little children. The 
 boy ten the girl seven. Together they 
 went to school; he carried her books, 
 as boy lovers have from time imme- 
 morial. Unlike most children, they 
 were perfectly happy in each other's 
 presence ; a group of other children to 
 them was never necessary. This state 
 of things continued with the two 
 happy children until one day the girl ? s 
 mother forbade her to longer be 
 friendly with the boy. The boy was 
 a half-breed. His grandfather had been 
 
DAVE AND MARY 39 
 
 a chief of one of the Illinois tribes and 
 his mother a Frenchwoman of gentle 
 breeding. This command saddened the 
 lives of the two little lovers. Five 
 years later they met alone. Tenderly 
 he embraced her and bade her fare- 
 well. He besought her not to forget 
 their love; some day he would return 
 for her and they would take their love 
 to a distant home. In a tiny locket he 
 carried her picture. ? ' 
 
 Mary sat absorbed in memories, all 
 forgetful of my presence. The soft 
 evening zephyrs played with the 
 leaves above us. A loon in the distant 
 woods sounded his weird cry. Mary 
 started and painfully went on : 
 
 " Years passed and the girl grew to 
 young womanhood. With her was ever 
 the spirit of her Indian lover." 
 
 The tender lips quivered pitiably 
 and she whispered hoarsely: 
 
 "They told her that her lover had 
 passed away. Never mind how she 
 suffered. Day by day she prayed that 
 
40 DAVE AND MARY 
 
 she might go where he had gone. 
 Months passed and the girl's father, 
 through an unfortunate investment, 
 lost all. The mother prevailed upon 
 the girl to marry a wealthy suitor. 
 What mattered then? Dave was gone. 
 ? Twas the same old story. Why should 
 she not repay as far as she could her 
 parents' devotion to her? She mar- 
 ried. The world said she was beauti- 
 ful. Envied by those less fortunate in 
 the things of this life, she became a 
 social queen. Was she happy? Ah, 
 no. Had a merciful Fate sent her chil- 
 dren perhaps she could have been 
 more content, but, being denied, that 
 seemed part of the crucible. One day 
 something stronger than herself drew 
 her to the old trysting place. In the 
 gray shadows, resting against the dear 
 old tree, was a form, and as she ap- 
 proached it came forth to her. 
 
 "Mary!" 
 
 "Then she was in his eager arms. 
 Needless to say more. Two lives were 
 
DAVE AND MARY 41 
 
 broken forever through the deed of 
 those who thought they were befriend- 
 ing them. They never met again un- 
 til you brought me out from the sta- 
 tion six weeks ago." 
 
 She fell on her knees and clasped my 
 hands, begging pitiously to be allowed 
 to remain. I raised her to her feet. 
 The days of my youth came before me. 
 How could I refuse her! But the 
 world, what would it have to say? 
 They would never believe in Dave and 
 Mary as I did. From the darkened 
 woods came the lone call of the whip- 
 poor-will. Mary was crying softly. 
 Despite whatever my heart longed to 
 do my better judgment came to the 
 fore. 
 
 "Mary, God knows from the depths 
 of my heart I would like to grant your 
 request, but I cannot. An irretrievable 
 wrong has been done to you and Dave, 
 though there is but one way now. You 
 must go back to your husband. The 
 world sets its standard, you must live 
 
42 DAVE AND MARY 
 
 up to it. She had turned ashy white 
 and stood trembling before me. Sud- 
 denly clutching the light wrap about 
 her and with a low moan, she turned 
 and fled down the steep incline and 
 was lost in the darkness. 
 
 Fancy my surprise when, on going 
 to the fields the next morning, to find 
 no trace of Dave. I went to his cot- 
 tage. His wife told me calmly that 
 Dave and Mary had gone together on 
 the midnight train. 
 
 "A love like theirs is found once in 
 a life time," she said quietly, "pity 
 and forgive. ' ' 
 
 I turned and walked away. The for- 
 est stifled me. I sought relief in a rest- 
 ful canyon. Seated 011 a boulder, I 
 cried aloud in keen disappointment : 
 
 ' ' Dave, why did you not have more 
 strength of character I Why did you 
 destroy the trust I had in you? Why 
 have you brought disgrace upon your 
 wife and babies? Why have you 
 broken the most sacred law of God and 
 
DAVE AND MARY 43 
 
 maul Then this love of yours and 
 Mary 's was not holy, as I pictured, but 
 only the ugly, carnal thing. ' ' 
 
 Had the deed been done by my own 
 son my grief could not have been more 
 poignant. 
 
 A criptical sensation seemed creep- 
 ing through the massive canyon. From 
 out of a deep recess appeared a misty 
 form. The apparition grew real. An 
 old Indian chief stood before me. He 
 slowly raised his right hand and point- 
 ed to the clear morning sky above us, 
 and from his lips came distinctly these 
 words : 
 
 "Judge not, lest ye be judged." 
 
 The mist fell slowly away. Tall, 
 straight and nobly stood Dave before 
 me. 
 
 "Dave!" I gasped. 
 
 He had heard my accusing cry and 
 the distrust had wounded him beyond 
 words. 
 
 With a hurt look he turned and 
 walked up the old trail. So this was 
 
DAVE AND MARY 
 
 the real man. He had taken his 
 "Bosary" to the silent canyon and 
 there had offered his sacrifice. A wave 
 of shame came over me. Lifting my 
 eyes to the Great Judge, I prayed that 
 somewhere in a better world would 
 there be a place for these incompar- 
 able lovers Dave and Mary. 
 

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