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brook divides when it reaches the island,
and runs on this side of it, and on that
side of it, and meets again, and goes on
as before.
This little island was not always there,
and the story I am going to tell you is
of how it came there, and why it receiv
ed its rather odd name, of “ Hero
Island.”
Perhaps, if you will take the trouble
to find out the true meaning of the word
hero, you will better understand my
little story; and as lam going to tell
you a story, I had better begin in the
true story-teller’s way, for when I was
a little child I used to think a story not
worth listening to that did not begin
“ once upon a time.” So, now for the
story of the little brook, Cedarina, and of
“HERO ISLAND.”
(M p i /'£l iSHiN NCE upon a time, two
or three high hills all
sloped down so as to
meet and form quite a
mCfmm beautiful hollow, quiet,
shady, and damp, and an
| acorn rolled down the side
J °f one of the hills, and
‘ finding a nice place at the
' bottom, and plenty of soft, green
moss, which, I suppose, the fairies had
left there, stopped 10 rest. Just then a
little spring of clear water, which had
been hidden away inside of the hill, be
ing tired of the dark, peeped out close
to the acorn, and seeing everything
pleasant and beautiful, crept out, and
concluded to stay and make its home
there. Then, after awhile, a little green
plant, hidden away inside the acorn,
began to move about, and threw down
its little white, thread-like roots, and
gaining strength, lifted its head towards
Heaven, and grew into a tall, beautiful
oak tree; and the birds made their
nests in its branches, and a squirrel
found a little hole in its trunk and crept
into it, and made its nest there, and the
spring sparkled and bubbled, and grew
large and strong, and the birds sang,
and the sun shone, and, altogether, the
hollow where the three hills met was a
charming place.
Oh ! if pleasant things could only re
main so ; but, unfortunately, they can
not, and so the little spring grew to be
a great big one, for other little springs
inside this spring oozed out and joined
it, and now people began to say, “What
a bold, beautiful spring,” and the squir
rel and the birds talked wisely together,
and wondered that the spring could be
content to stay quietly in that nook
when it ought to join the great river,
and run with it, to be embraced by the
•sea; and so the little spring began to
be ashamed, and then to have vague
longings and yearnings to get away from
the beautiful hollow, and to run with
the river and be embraced by the sea.
Now, while these thoughts came to the
BURKE’S WEEKLY FOR BOYS AND GIRLS.
spring, the young oak was also growing
vain. The Indian maidens, who dipped
their gourds, and drank from the bub
bling spring, admired the oak, —its
strength and vigor,—and so the oak,
that it might grow the faster, drank
more and more from the spring, until,
either from that, or from standing still
and taking no exercise, it grew to be
so stout and large that three people
holding hands, or touching fingers, for
that is the way to measure trees, could
just reach around it, and then it still
grew and stretched its bark, until a
great cleft came on one side, so large
that when the three people had meas
ured the outside, they could get inside,
all of them together, and be quite hid
away ; and now the tree had its vanity
sadly wounded, for people said: “ Ah!
the great hollow tree, it is growing old.”
Thus, you see in the beautiful hollow,
as everywhere else in this world, changes
will come. The little spring felt the
change sadly, it bubbled and bubbled,
and spread into quite a little lake, which
filled the hollow, and at last it resolved to
gather its water up into one bold stream,
and run off, and join the river, and be
embraced by the sea. It told the oak
that it was going, and asked it to go too,
but the oak declined, saying that it was
too old to travel, and had a bad pain in
its side whenever it moved, but it threw
a little piece of its bark right into the
spring, and it was covered with green
moss. That, it said, was a love token.
The little stream started gai’y off,
carrying the bark until it lost sight of
the tree. Then it threw it away and
went on, forgetting all about the hollow,
playing with every rock and stone, dash
ing recklessly over steep places, and
singing love songs to the flowers. This
was at first; gradually it gave over its
wild ways, and crept into quiet nooks
and shady places, and wound around
the foot of the hill; and other rdls join
ed it, and it became quite a bold stream;
but it retained much of its merriment,
and still told pleasant stories, and sang
love songs to those that would listen,
but never forgot its resolve, and kept
steadily on its way to the great sea,
where it was resolved to go, and was,
on the whole, a very charming and well
behaved stream, retaining much of the
refinement it. had brought with it from
the quiet nook where the oak tree grew,
and where its early years were spent.
Now a serious difficulty arose, which
threatened to stop it entirely, and pre
vent it from joining the river and going
to the sea. A great rock was in the
way, —in the only way where the stream
could pass, for a hill was on either side,
and to run up hill was a thing which
could not be thought of, to go back was
impossible, —but the rock was firm, and
did not seem disposed to move. What
should be done ? The little stream
stopped for a moment, then dashed
against the r6ck with such fury that it
was all in a foam. The rock would not
move ; then it turned to one side ot the
rock, then to the other, and so working
its way around, pushed up the shining
sand and pebbles—and that was the be
ginning of the Island.
Then all the little rills, which had di
vided when they came to the great rock,
joined again after they had passed it,
and went on to find the liver, and be
embraced by the sea ; and then little
tufts of grass began to grow upon the
sand, and the birds dropped seed, and
little wild flowers sprang up, —the blue
violet and the bright red cardinal, —and
still the stream, as it passed around the
rock, left sand and dead leaves, until,
little by little, from a sandy shallow, it
was growing, as the spring had done,
and as the oak had done, into quite an
affair.
Now, there came from the crowded
city, for rest, a busy, overworked man,
and when he saw the rock, and the
stream running around it, he said :
“ Ah, that is pretty ; I will help it.”
And he deepened the channel on this
side and on that of the great rock, so
that the little stream could run with
more ease to join the river, and he
brought other stones, and put them
around the island, so that the sand and
pebbles which the water left should not
slip off again ; and when he had filled
up all the hollows with rich soil, he
planted in the middle a beautiful “Gar
land flower” that loved water and
threw its roots down, and drank,
and drank, and grew strong and vigor
ous, and spread out its broad, green
leaves, to make a beautiful home for
the little spirit of Peace and Love which
lived among the flowers. And when
the busy man came back, as he did
every year, to visit his island, and to
rest, the Garland flower would put forth
great clusters of snowy-white blossoms,
whose perfume would fill the air and
creep down into his heart ; and when
he would bend over to admire his pet
plant, the little spirit would nestle clo
ser to him, and smooth out all the deep
furrows which care had ploughed into
his white forehead, and the little min
nows would leap up and make the water
sparkle, and the bright light would be
reflected in his eyes, and his face would
grow young, as his heart always was,
and blessing the little stream, and the
island, and the flowers, and the spirit
who lived there, he would return to his
busy and toilsome life, with his heart
full of beauty.
Oh ! if there could be no change ! if
pleasant things, and people, and times,
could only remain so ! But that cannot
be here, for the Evil Spirit is always
busy, aiid so there came a terrible war,
which broke up everything pleasant,—
men’s passions were aroused, —and the
care-worn man laid down his pen, and
at the call of his country girded on his
sword, and went forth to illustrate the
virtues of his native State. Nobly did
he do it, and in her defence laid down
his life.
His home, and the little island he had
loved, were desolated. The Garland
flower was trampled down by the rude
soldiers, and the little Spirit fled away
affrighted at the sound of the cannon.
All was changed, and, saddest of all,
the cause for which he died was lost, —
but failure is not proof of wrong. Gali
leo imprisoned could still feel, “The
world turns round for all that,” and so
the friends who loved him while he
lived, loved him, if possible, more now
that he was gone, and were very proud
of the noble life he had lived, and of
the noble death that he died.
When quiet times returned, they came
back to his home, and cared for the lit
tle island that he had loved, and reared
again the drooping “Garland flower;”
and the stream murmured and laughed,
as it ran swiftly over the sparkling sands
and kissed the great rock, and the little
minnows played once more around the
stones, and the Spirit of Peace came
back to her old home, and once more
the snowy blossoms sent forth their
richest perfume, as if to greet him, and
the friends who loved him, as they talk
ed of his virtues, and of his noble, un
selfish life, gathered !around his little
island, which, in memory of the great
and good, they named
“ HERO ISLAND.”
T. F.
Written for Burke’s Weekly.
THE ADVENTURES OF
BIG-FOOT WALLACE,
The Texas Hanger and Hunter.
By the Author of “ Jack Dobell; or t A Boy's
Adventures in Texas."
CHAPTER XIX.
STORY OF THE INDIAN HATER —THE MOVE
FROM KENTUCKY —NEW HOME IN TEXAS
—WIFE ANI) CHILDREN MURDERED BY
THE INDIANS —TERRIBLE REVENGE —A
DANGEROUS COMPANION —THE INDIAN
CAMP.
L EN years ago,” said the strange
looking man, “ I was as happy
' a man as any in the world, but
now I am miserable except when I am
waylaying, or shooting, or scalping an
Indian. It’s the only comfort I have
now.
“I had a small farm in Kentucky,'not
far from the mouth of the Beach Fork,
and though we had no money, we lived
happily and comfortably, and had notli
thing to fear when we .laid down at
night. But, in an unlucky hour for us,
a stranger stopped at my house one day
on his way 1o Texas, and told me about
the rich lands, the abundance of game,
and the many fortunes that had been
made in that new country. From that
time I grew restless and 'discontented,
and I determined, as soon as possible,
that I would ; seek my fortune in that
‘ promised land.’