Evening Star Newspaper, January 17, 1926, Page 86

2 THE St NDAY. STAR, WASHINGTON, D. 0, JANUARY 17 , 1926—PART 5. Two White Men Emer Identity Is Restored to Grizzled Tribesman Carried Away From a Massacre When a Baby—Meeting of Two Pale-Faced “Indians™ After 49 Years—Unraveling a Romantic Mys- tery of the Nortl‘lwcst—A Sioux “Mother’s” Plea—The Man Who Was. A Chief's White Girl-Wife—Similarity of Iwo Lives. In twe whi nent story the annals of warfare & th n n s conti stranger Aded here And the ien and red on tere probably han the oné urn by i Lance narra himself one story—i i white mater e of an her the tri of vears Indian yearning for hoy e ntm Canadian expedition BY CHIEF BUFFALO CHILD LONG LANCE. ancestors were India hies was NE ner the. This a letter her of shed the h and biood of t dian The esc of 10 the plains Crees At ago by er,” ask her wi heard. h was marrie The m Winnipe The five m enem four appe e s some The 1 In faroff Texas article that 1 elghteen mor Massacre S 0Oak Lake sacre for work. e Owned Minnesota I wa their s mas: historic Indians 1 tled Manitoba s run When the at W n these Sioux had mas red 500 white people at Red Wood v in inter deser sac which read These with erted one them picked up out & hloody Wood and saved by a ng the most fri his terrible carnag somewhere 1 old man 1 mentioned this of human interest hat anvthing would That pa merely not dreaming aver come of it as a poi agraph ap- | | peared on January 3. a tall weathe about 63 veurs old, w editorial rooms of the isked the managing Who's Ross Tunner “1 don’t know. Why i1 O wen indivic Iked into by il litor do you ask? returned the plainsman in his stolid, illiterate way. Oh. you're Ross replied the s know who T am Weil. just sit down and what are driving at,” editor, sensing that fronted with a rare charactér andenot a lunatie. What followed at this point 0ld by quoting a part of the story vhich appeared on the front pagze of he newspaper t as follows aged, wear. honorable service in Tanner of Amaranth Tribune office today t who his people ason for his strange tell said the he was con unt. raw-honed and A badge of war ropped an effor Asked juest, he said Well, vou see, 1 > and T only jist h was put in your e & few months ago who runs the hoarding I stay when I me Who Ross to the n't read rd that paper about The woman house where ne to town, jist told put that notice in n'r me- today me?) files ¢ ihout the continued and it bad heen Minnesota that he was brought by the Sioux refugees T the was found the only surviver massacre of 18 here as a in that ne were front-page that Mr Yes, it was at the time the massacree Red Wood, ve now. The Indians had a habit of any children they kinda took to. Anyway. I was with the after the massacree. I never t 1 was d om the In. he said S TANNER, WHO LIVED THE OF AN INDIAN FOR 60 YEARS, IGNORANT OF HIS WHITE ANCESTRY. until T 10. Then I ay < picked up by some Cree buf, hunters, and with them til T was old enough to fend for my Rince then | ha been freightin’ the Hudson's Bay Co. I'd like to find out who | was afore the Indians 1 don't know how old I am nr where I was born. n'r my folks were, n'r if 1 have relatives livin’ there in the d States.” was about ot me when any Ur Tanner asked the managing editor | in touch with me., who notice whoe knew his Sioux Indian parents—thinking that I might be able tell hir who he was, We were brought to her the next morning. * * ‘THE only thing I found white Ross Tanner was his skin. In every other respect he was an Indian His movements. his way of ind thinking that to h wrote the him and place up of a pure-bred 1 do was before. His blue eves and his brown mustache contrasted ngely with his steady gaze and the ®$HE WAS PROTECTING HER LITTLE WHITE CHARGE A SAINST FLYING BULLETS AND ARROWS WITH HER OWN BODY,” me is hest | in the paper about | in | | asked | e | that she saw the | ibune<and | deliberate movements of the North American The first question he asked me W the name of the Indian heroine w had rescued him at the mas L raised him ur he w ut [ told him it Akixa of the Oak Lake Indian N miles north of Griswold. Manit and 70 miles west of where he was sitti “Did she ever tell anythin about my parents was?"—he ter a pa sal native il as 10 Mrs Reserve wha 1d ade of running 1 vou up i m mud that she and prote with t¥ ed at Red Wood ents must have heen massacy I said I told Tanner to me # most Mrs. Akisa's love Sjoux v th that the remarkabhle instance of While the y Minne for hin > on enemy running something now now hehind her This impeding “bundle” had kept her away behind her fellow tribesmen When she caught up with them. it was discovered that she was prot ing her little white charge against flving bullets and arrows with her own dy. having apparently forgotten all about her own brood We were sitting in the managing editor's car outside his office on a side street, alone. nner's eves narrow ed to slits and took on a far-off. con | templative look. | alf to me and half to himself “I wonder why she pic She said.” I explained, sh just sort of took a liking to you when she saw vou Iving there in the blood and she suddenly decided to pick vou up and adopt you—before you were | stamped into the ground with the other babies.” All T remember of her,” he said, as though he had not heard me and was carrying on h's own train of thought was that she was fat. But I have been 10 when I ran 1ld see her Ak hank. holding front of her and long in me up. Why did you r “Didn’t they tr ou well “Yes. they treated me just like other brothers (her other remember 1 had a Iot of hrothers. But I had to work hard. And. yvou see, didn’t know 1 was any different from the Indians until 1 was about 10. I decided to run away the first chance 1 got “T did it one night after everybod: was asleep in their tepees. 1 walked all night—and you can see how small and young I must have heen; for I away?" I asked. my slept in a badger hole all the next day. | | hiding for fe: | running ac - of some of the India s me. talking | all of his mental make- | Indian. t think 1 ever saw such a white | cand slept in badger holes for about three days. “Then a band of Cree buffalo hunt- ers ran across me and took me with them. I suppose I staved with them until T was about 18. I had to learn to speak their language: for the only thing 1 knew before that was Sioux. When I was about 18 I started out for myself, freighting for the ludson's Bay Co. “Where did you go with the Crees?” I asked. ““Oh, everywhere—all over the plains —down in Montana, in Alberta and everywhere. We had a Jot of fights with other tribes. but I didn’t scrap much—only to protect myself. After T left the Crees I married a half-breed Cree woman and settled down at West- bourne for 20 years, and freighted for the Bay Co. Then when she died I arrled another Cree woman. T have 13 children all toid, and we live at Amaranth, Manitoba, now.” After another long Indian pause, in | [} g¢ +| Phillips must | children)—1 | Then | 1 walked at night | | i ised t wvel close to ime ¥ white irl with <he must have been about 1 never get a chance to speak the chief kept her guarde time—and she was finally married | the chief i But one day before 1 left the Ming _down to a pail. That was ked down to the words with her » had been with the she could reme and she didn’t know where she m. She said that the chiel’s rded her all the time. She o get away the closing act f the plains You k kid the Indians ev of is this ¢ the strangest ¢ On the ance of following the appear ni-page story about sther white man and looking every ambled into the Tri nd inquired as to the eabouts of Ross Tanner, whose picture had appeared in the paper on the preceding day The managing editor asked him why he wanted to know. He sald “Because the last time I saw him was in an Indlan camp down on the | Missourt River in Montana, when he was 16 and 1 was 17. And I recog | nized his face as quick as I saw it in the paper last night. 1 was raised | | by the Indians, too—the Crows, who adopted me when I was a baby and my mother and aunt had died of | smallpox at Fort Benton The managing editor, Vernon K Knowles, told Mr. Phillips—Jiohn was his name—to go home and he wouid have Mr. Tanner at his | house within an hour. Then Mr. | Knowles rushed over in his car and | got me, mora excited than I have ever seen a managing editor. We drove to Tanner's home, where we picked | him up, and the three of us went to_Phillips’ home. There we saw shall never tss T such a sight as we see again. Both men recognized each other instantly, and they just stood grinning at each | other like two boys. Then tears came into thelr eyes, and they walked over | and put their left hands on each | other’s shoulder and “'shook * ox ok % HILLIPS, the typical old Indian from his head to his moccasined feet, motioned to his Indian wife to | bring in chairs. Then, when we were all seated, he was the first to | break the silence. “Well, well, well, he could say. Then the two looked at each other, shyly grinning for another spell— until they really began to belleve their eves—and then they started talking. When they last met, 43 vears be- fore, they were the only two white persona in a camp of 3.000 Indians. The Crees had stopped off on the Missouri River to camp over night with the Crows. In the big massed dance held that night these two white hoya with long hair had noticed each other in the glimmer of the firelight, and the next day Phillips went over to the Cree camp and sought out Tanner's tepee. Here they told each other their strange storfes of how | they happened to be in the hands of the Indians John Phillips fancy,” was all had had an_ uncle who came to America from England | land joined the California gold rush {of 1549, Ten vears later this uncle | had sent to Yorkshire for his two | sisters, one of them a widow with a baby boy—the present John | Phillips. i They came to America and journey- {ed across the plains in a prairie | ’chooner as far as Fort Renton, | | Mont., then only a trading post,| | where & few white men met the In:| dian nomads of the plains and bar- | tered whisky for buffalo robes. Here [ the two women were stricken with smallpox and died, both on the same da. John Phillips, only an infant, was |left an orphan. There was no one thers to adopt him but the Indians, so the Crows took him Into their tribe and reared him as one of their own people. He lived with the Crows until he was a full-grown man. | Then he married an Indian woman | and went into western Canada as a | buffalo hunter with a band of half- | breeds. When old Fort Garry became Winni- peg he stopped his wanderings over the Plains, settled down there and | helped to bufld the Canadian Pacific He 1is there today, hale and and a veterun of the Great " One of his sons, born of his Indian wife, was killed in the war. John_ Phillips knows nothing of the fate of his uncle in California—be- cause news of the little party of three never reached him. Mr. Phillips thinks that his uncle must have concluded that they were massacred by the In- dians en route across the prairies. These two men, Ross Tanner and John Phillips, Indians with white, tanned skin, have now become insep- arable pals in thelr old age. Tanner has found his relatives in far-off Texas, well-to-do eitizens of that State. He found them, or rather they found him, through the magazine article that T wrote. It took many months for Louie C. Tanner of Lib- which we both sat smoking, he said:lerty, Tex, to come upon a capy ef | and squirrels | peared to be even more faithful than | | pigeons didn’t belong to her | that the compassionate | lodging for the nights. |an this magazine and get in touch with editor in New York, who referred his inquiries 1o me. Mr. Louis Tanner the elder Tanner of explained that 1862, the father fom Long and Adventurous In of Ross Tanner, was not actually kill- ed in the historic massacre of the | Northwest frontier. His letter to me | mald in part | ! “The Indians cut him almost inte | “IN THE BIG MASSED DAN( HELD THAT NIGHT THESE TWO WHITE BOYS HAD NO- TICED EACH OTHER IN TH GLIMMER OF THE FIRE- LIGHT.” pleces and left him for dead. How ever, he was found bv a surveying party and finally recovered. His | dian Past tune before I Detroit, Mich Ross Tanner, gaur sacre fate, who s stil Indian wife and 10 sur at Amaranth, Mani know h he happendd name of n hi s8It w and interpr who later but ts still 1 toba, with the Stoux. These Sloux, who figured in that historic m ere, in spits f many overtures from the American ernment to secure their. return after thelr remar escaps from the chase of the United tes Cave alry. The Tanner myster been solved But haps some one will John Phil. ips, the squaw man e Crows, he has relatives ifornia, descended from his & & uncle, May be wealtl now ns of ith his nlldren es not ) retain the i tin- seout kkadnshen, Bull's band, < Lake, Mani esota Ma s seems to have knows? Py relatives would Le sur rest famt n. A man ngth and f the native wart Indian wi with great m bearing all the North American; & man who talks nothing but Indian to his red wife and seven half-breed children—vet an F lishman by birth. (Copyright, 192€.) New Way to Test Pearls. IN Paris not e Vateha pour ger others floated il i A find that i e th d Fideovee vt ago a group of ants enough to pearls. T hrother spent almost his entire for Monthly They Are Good Little Scouts, the Friends Of This Regular Franklin Park Visitor her for on in D seen vears, certain she was time- Act morning. as as the sun rose. there at 8 o'clock. feeding the live stock in Franklin Park—the pigeons and sparrows and blackbirds Now and then she ap. the sun fiself. For, when rain or &now held the in place of sunlight she was on hand just the same. More than once I've seen her. broom in hand, making her way across through the snow (o the daily rendezvous with these park people. Time and again too, I've seen the pigeons waiting in the top of a tall eim at the edge of the park for her to come out from her door across the street. Then. in a lovelv fiving squadron. their wings all silver in the sun. they'd swoop down and down in swinging cirles till alight. they'd scurry. close around her feet, {0 the familiar feeding ground Driving by each dav on the way to my office, 1 grew curious about the daily performance sustained through %o many seasons. So. one morning. I stopped to_inquire into this regular Franklin Park matinee. Not much given fo talking. the woman. No, the she = were, nor No, she didn't stage Aidn't, know who the ow if there were owners. know where they slept. The scant “no.” hers: the questions, mine Expanding siowly. she added that they used to sleep in the towers of a nearby schoolhouse till Education. de claring them a ‘nuisance,’ barred to them the doors of that particular hos. telry—and then turned away to its business of teaching all the little chil dren to be kind to animals, I've heard caretaker of a church up the way has offered them No, I'll lest Religion them and also order name the church pronounce againsat them to move on Warming a little, but still talking more to herself than to me, the wom- said. “These, you know, children of that very dove which Noah sent out of the ark—the one that brought back to him the good news of the falling away of the Flood. “You remember the story.” she went on, “how Noah sent out a raven and then a_dove and that neither of them came back. And the davs grew long and burdensome to the tired and jaded host within the ark—two and two. male and female, of all flesh wherein is the breath of life.’ You remember that Noah again sent out a dove, And that after many days it came back bearing in its beak ‘an olive leaf plucked off’ in sign that the waters had subsided and that land was within reach.” not | are the | | Kotten. The talk had become a hap. py, rambling soliloquy The great sh Parliament itself protects the pigeons of St Pau as if, maybe, her mind had gone back to those un | friendly towers over | wa angered at the great brood the cathedral them—Kkillin Then the Eng the matter pigeons of fe under its pro school ‘Once a man, persistent coaxing of | that homes nd | swung a club amongst some, maiming some |1ish iaw took nd {and since then Paul's have heen teetion, as the pigeons of St. Mark's are counted good citizens under | e laws of Venice | “And does Uncle Sam look out for these birds? “No, but he for the v ) | us look the birds, almost every hody whose daily way lies thre park h ldren. hosts of with their n s, come here to feed them all on sunny dayvs 1T ‘Oh, ¥ only laok out for their breakfast every morning."” | hey're exactly like folks' the| woman said, spreading her hands out | over the jostling, breakfasting throng the pigeons the center, the spar rows a little farther away, the black birds quite on the outskirts, the squir rels all over the place. Then she gave an odd call, which the squirrels seem ed to understand, for e bound ing like puppies at the cry, “Chekko, chekko-o, chek Come on over Got sump'n for v’ And they came “on over” from all directions, putting up competent little paws to gather in | the unroasted peanuts, which are their staff o e. Their hunger quite satis fled, still they me back after more— for the squirreis are planting & peanut farm {n Franklin Park. “Yes, they're just like the rest of 1s. Only two vital interests in the | world—eating and courting. When the male pigeon isn't eating he 18 pur- suing a female. And, wooing, he is as like the human suitor as two peas in a pod are alike. He struts and swag gers and brags before the trim and de- mure little female. He cuts an elabo. rate pigeon-wing and then treads a stately saraband in narrowing circles | around the lady of his cholce. He| chuckles and chortles and rumbles {deep in his throat, all to the effect that he is the originai gay bird. He pur- sues and coaxes and persuades. An |amazing suitor, the male pigeon. There is a pretty story going around to the effect that he selects his mate for life, |that he remains true to that one till |death does them part. Don't you be. |lieve it. I know better. No, he's just |like the rest.” | onse the | | food thel« | I've seen him do it And he does hear it—in a final wa that sounds like ‘Oh, what's t “A good deal maligned is the spar row, after all,” the wom I'd heard the gossip a liked him and I wanted him a good char v about reflected but to help in er. the 3t him vort which cleared thi: of the worst of the him—that he drives othe that he eats food which man signed for his own u: o be the sparrows q 1 lies quarrel. T are not : light in other. thi prime an essen factor in much gedies here in Frank In t e the sparrow frequent victim of the fierce onset of another denizen of the park—the pu P grackle, that handsome, s is, crafty bird that often kills the rrow before succor can intervene. I've held in my the limp. gasping fluff of sparrow that the blackbird had wel nigh done to death with his powe ful beak. TI deed, appears to be his ef dom c sport A most knowing bird, engaging but n lov able Still, 1 suppose he is doing as well as he can—like the rest of us He many human ways that are interesting. Strutting about his park demesne, he may by chance come upon a crust of bread. This he takes over to the water trough and soberly drops it in to soften, as n grandmother used to do with her bread and tea. If, when he takes it out, it is still too hard to suit his aste, he sensibly puts it back again iting much like an expert cook for t last second of culinary perfec- to arrive. When it is ‘done to a this epicurean bird goes con- v on with his repast.” “Oh, ves, the park has other birds. Some ‘fine morning soon, as vou go by, you will hear a long, clear, thrill ing “call—and that'll whistling. And In a few weeks, some memorable morning, vou come face to face here with spruce, capable, well dressed optimist of a bird—the robin. Meeting the first robin in Franklin Park is some- thing to look for each vear, some- thing to remember all the years. Un- der that tree over there, you will some day see a clean flutter of fresh shav- ings. Then you will know that flick- hand on will “EVERY MORNING, AS CERTAINLY AS THE SUN ROSE, THERE SHE. WAS, FEEDING THE LIVE STOCK “Then the heart of Noah leaped for Joy. And, in gratitude, he laid around the neck of that homing dove a circlet of green feathers to shine there for- ever after in a soft and lovely irides- cence. And there it is, right there!” she sald. Surely enough, there it was, ‘right there’—the gleaming circlet of green feathers around the neck of one and another of the pig- eons feeding at our feet. Who would ask for better proof that these are the children of the children of Noah's dove that brought joy to the ark so long and long ago. By this time I was, in effect, for-!is the repetitious clamor of her tirade. ! reticence of that woman. a IN FRANKLIN PARK.” With only the most casual of glances my way, the woman went on. “The sparrows are such good little scouts— plucky, pugnacious, intelligent, hu- man. You should ses them in the early morning. For some reason the female is likely to get out of bed ruf- fled and fretful. And at this generally peaceful matin hour of all henpecked | husbands the male sparrow heads the | procession. At this time the croes lit |tle wife pursues him in his clearly pro- | testing flight. ‘You'll hear what I want to say if T have to chase you all over this park’-—or wards to that effect— ‘ ers are bullding a new house, or doing over the old one. “‘Our squirred nursery in the Spring- time fs a jewel in the treetops but by this time I was on my way For there are things in the way of business obligations that do have to be met, that do forbid ome staying hour upon hour listening to storfes of the family life of Franklin Park— its comedles and tragedies, its dull days and bright ones—however much like human interests these prove to be, when held up. as they were here, in the light of human affairs. I was wrong ahout the seeming She was {the grounds, be the cardinal | that | I enc 1gh, to be wnship electi this purpose. received was surrounded by a chaos of st rubbish and barren clay funds ava for impro 4 community camp e archi prepared were was initiat g1 shru he iy er Iy for elm trees When it was c« e from their savings purc of furniture and the le: he com unity carried the and the furn In addition b village and count {room is used as a n four farmers’ organiz: board, the women's assocfation, and by | public gatherings. Since were completed the b become the pride of t b school grounds wel ave pl and the secretary of the board | constantly in receipt of requests information and advice from other tewns Relief in the that health is influenced by environment strong among the people of Ca Minn., a town of 1,700 bhitants, who have built the public hospital twe hlocks from the main business corner. back from the street, anc setting of smooth, well sh: lawn and with a deep-sh Patients of this hospital are in tranquil surro i | from distracting noises. he buflding itself was a gift; but it was repaired and furnished and the grounds wera enlarged and improved through re. ceipts from general voluntary butions, a stimulating campaign be- ing carried out by citizens to launch the enterprise Waverly, Pa., a farm tunate in its curving ro following the physical country, its inviting and a clean fringe decided on u community building and public playground. As completed, the community building vccuples the cen- ter of a two-acre space, and is set off by wide, open lawns, with a few well placed trees framing the grounds. Tennis courts wading pool and other recreation features are located with a view to symmetry. The building has every convenfence, end on the first floor are the post office, canteen, reading om, §un par- lor, lounge, reception room and as- sembly hall with its motion picture booth On the second floor are the | public library, a radio set and the private apartment of the secratarfes. The house supports a trained nurse for the village and farming rommu- rity, a free kindergarten, and art, handiwork, dramagics, sewing, bas- ketry and playground classes. and is the headquarters of the town super- visors, the school hoard. the grange, the parent-teacher association and the Roy Scouts. It is also the center and for school - other exercises. $00 hooks the assembly he achool a town ubs for grounds ngs have town, othe: high many theory is nd frea village, for- ds and stre contour of the d gateways, t the town, for elections commencements and ~A Enriched by Dead Sea. RICHES in_the Dead Sea soon may make of Palestine a land of plenty. Rights of exploitation of the vast quantities of chemicals in it re. cently were offered for sale. he sipply of potash in the waters 1s considered inexhaustible. Common salt would be obtained in such tre- mendous quantities that the problem would be how to get rid of it, says Popular Science. It might have to be dumped back into the sea after more valuable sults had been extracted by & system of evaporation and crystalliza- {tion that 1s very rapid, on account of the stifling heat in the Jordan Valley. Transportation from the Dead Sea to_the Mediterranean is the greatest difficulty foreseen. Busy Woodpeckers. | WOODPECKERS are ruining tallest flagbole in the United States. 1t is 346 feet high and is at Camp Lewis, Wash. A thick coating of tar will be smeared on the pole tg discourage the birds.