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Updated: June 26, 2025
Fair laughs the morn, and soft the zephyr blows While proudly riding o'er the azure realm In gallant trim the gilded vessel goes, Youth at the prow and pleasure at the helm; Regardless of the sweeping whirlwind's sway, That hush'd in grim repose, expects it's evening prey.
Is this world your only treasure? This life all your joy and pleasure? Are you laying up no portion In the sky? He that soweth to the wind Shall a whirlwind's harvest find, And he'll see himself a pauper By and by. We must reap of what we sow, it is said: Are you sowing to the flesh, O maid? For many years I wanted to go as a foreign missionary, but my way seemed hedged about.
Having within that time taken six grains of opium, without the least beneficial effect, and having no medical adviser, nor any choice of diet, I resolved to throw myself upon Providence for recovery, using, without regard to the disorder, any portion of strength that might remain to me. So on the 20th of June we set out from Fort Laramie to meet The Whirlwind's village.
Howe had been looking intently towards them from the first moment they came in sight, as if in doubts as to who and what they were. The approaching Indian's vision was keener than Howe's, for recognizing the trapper, Whirlwind's joyous shout rang in the air in a prolonged "tu tu-la-la-lah!" "The chief! it is the chief!" cried Howe, recognizing the sound, "he has come to bring us joyful tidings."
The Whirlwind's purpose was evidently shaken; he had become tired, like a child, of his favorite plan. Bordeaux exultingly predicted that he would not go to war. My philanthropy at that time was no match for my curiosity, and I was vexed at the possibility that after all I might lose the rare opportunity of seeing the formidable ceremonies of war.
They are in Whirlwind's hunting grounds, and he will protect them." So saying, the irritated Chieftain turned on his heel, and strode away, pausing to collect his arms, when he disappeared in the thicket.
"He will blow his horn, and draw the whole tribe on us if you attempt to strangle him. I think we had better try to slip in one by one, and not disturb him," said the trapper. "We should be missed before we could replace the stone, and they would drag us from our hiding place as soon as we entered it. Whirlwind's step is as noiseless as the wing of a bird, when after a foe.
With a grave, dignified countenance he led the colt to where Jane stood, and placing a halter, which he had tied around its neck in place of the lasso, in Jane's hand, he said: "Whirlwind's gift to the antelope," and walking away left the young girl in possession of his noble love-token. Puzzled and blushing at her awkward position.
Ever ready for war, as is the normal attitude of the average North American savage, the Whirlwind's plan was readily acceded to, and a camp on the Platte, known as Labonte's, was the point designated as the rendezvous.
Whirling and circling with terrific might, In wild confusion on the tempest came. Nature, awakening from her still repose, Shudders responsive to the whirlwind's shock, Feels at her might heart convulsive throes, And all her groaning forests to earth's bosom rock. But hark! What means that hollow, rushing sound, That breaks the death-like stillness of the morn?
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