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Learn more- The bright spring sun fluttered on the silvery hair of an old man as he slowly plodded along in the wake of his plow. Suddenly his plow struck an obstacle. He stopped to remove it. It was a human skull. Brushing aside the surrounding soil he brought to light other human bones. Embedded in them was an Indian arrowhead. Memories of a half century back were awakened and the hands of time reversed. From out of the past came the hordes of ruthless redskins and the never ending stream of home-seekers from the east. And in his reverie was reenacted the legend of the "Arrow's Tongue." Here is the legend: The fame of Sacashu, the daughter of the Dacotab's, had spread far beyond the confines of her own nation. The Indian maiden had pledged her love to Wa-hu-ha. But on an evil day her happiness was turned into despair. For a jug of rum her father, Thief Black Horse, tore her from the arms of Wa-hu-ha and sold her to a cruel and heartless whiskey runner. Fifteen years elapsed. Sacashu had led a hard life. A son has been born to her. He was now fourteen years of age. At this time the old Chief Black Horse died and the silent, grim-visaged Wa-hu-ha was elected head of his people. He led his braves to take revenge on the white race. Wa-hu-ha determined that the man who had stolen his betrothed should be his first sacrifice. He approached the cabin, and with a fiendish yell his braves burst into it. The whiskey runner fell a victim to the tomahawk. Sacashu grasped a gun to continue the battle when she recognized Wa-hu-ha. He clapped her to his breast. The half-breed boy who was in the attic where the whiskey was stored hearing the struggles below, in his fright accidentally smashed a jug of whiskey. The yellow fluid trickled down between the chinks in the boards of the ceiling. A drop fell down upon the hand of Wa-hu-ha; it was whiskey. He darted up the ladder followed by the rest. The Indians abandoned themselves to a drunken orgy. The boy crawled through the roof window and leaping from it, jumped upon his father's white pony and started off. Quick as a flash an arrow from Wa-hu-ha's bow flew through the air, struck the boy and buried its tip deep in his back. On dashed the frenzied steel, his dying rider clinging desperately, the fatal arrow waving its warning. Wa-hu-ha, his savage nature thoroughly aroused by rum, set the cabin on fire and carried Sacashu away. She, thinking her boy still in the burning cabin pleaded with the chief to save him, but he was deaf to her appeal. The Indians in their blood lust attacked with fury a wagon train. Sacashu, escaping from the Indians, seized a war club, mounted a horse and returned to her old home, now in ashes. Believing that her boy had perished in the flames, she swore vengeance on her former lover. Mounting the top of the hill, overlooking the circle of death surrounding the settlers, she sighted Wa-hu-ha. She crept stealthily up behind him, and with a stunning blow she wreaked a mother's vengeance. Sacashu then darted for the ranks of the white men for protection. Mistaking her for an enemy they shot her. On the top of a knoll a government scout saw a flying boy mounted on a white horse and knew too well what it meant. Turning about he galloped to the fort. The troops were called to arms and dashed across the plain to the scene of the battle. The settlers fought with the fury of despair, but the savages were steadily circling closer. The white men were preparing to die when over the crest of a little hill the Stars and Stripes appeared. The battle raged between the soldiers and the Indians. The Redskins leaving the prairie strewn with their dead, retreated precipitately. But far away the white horse sped onward, the dying boy and the fateful arrow spreading with silent eloquence their dread message. At last the rider fell lifeless to the ground. The Arrow's Tongue had spoken, as it spoke fifty years later to the old farmer whose plow turned it up with the whitened bones of Sacashu's son.
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