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Updated: June 15, 2025
"Wouldst thou have the son of Alknomook the son of the rightful lord himself the rightful lord of these wide regions beg bread from the stranger?" "Not to save thy life or mine would I ask it, but what would I not do to save the life of this beautiful babe, which the Great Spirit granted to my prayers, when for sixty moons I had lived in thy cabin a disgraced woman ."
Listen to that wail of many over the slaughtered corpses of their friends, who lay down to rest at the beginning of darkness, and woke ere the sun came over the hills in the shades of the valley of death. Bitterly, deeply, deadly, has the son of Alknomook revenged his own, and the wrongs of his race. Again the dreamer saw, and still his dream was of the land where he dwelt.
The son of Alknomook did not bruise the flowers of the pale face, nor frighten his flocks and herds by his shrill halloos. Wilt thou give me a morsel of food for my famished child?" "Begone, thou Indian dog!" said the proud and cruel man. "Thou shalt have no food here." "But my child will die of hunger." "If thy child die of hunger, there will be a red skin less.
The son of Alknomook will humble his pride he will wipe off the war paint, which he laid as deep on his face as the memory of his wrongs weigh on his heart, and he will supplicate the stranger to give him food for his little one." Still the sleeping chief continued to take note of the things which occurred. He beheld the enfeebled and emaciated Indians at the dwelling of the proud stranger.
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