JOURNEYING across the country a lone traveler chanced upon an Indian
village. Such Indians as he saw there were unknown to him, and neither
did he know that Indians of any kind dwelt in that part of the land.
Strange to him, too, were the wigwams, or teepees, of the unknown
tribe. All of the wigwams with which he was familiar were covered with
either blankets or skins. These were of the leaves of the burdock and
much smaller than any he had ever seen—fit only for the homes of a
pigmy tribe—and such it proved to be.
Guarding every wigwam stood an Indian, while others were scattered
about the encampment.
As the traveler gazed on the scene before him, his astonishment grew
when he saw that not a figure moved. Every man stood up straight and
silent.
Inquiring of a passer-by, one who seemed acquainted with the regions
round about, the traveler asked the meaning of what he saw, and learned
that the pigmy tribe was ruled by a giant, who years ago had departed
for a great city where he hoped to bargain with the people for the sale
of the tobacco which his tribe produced. The sample he carried was in
the form of a package of cigars, bound about by a strip of twisted
tobacco leaves.
For the crime of tempting people to make use of that which would harm
them the giant Indian and his pigmy tribe had had a spell cast over
them, which turned them to wood, took away their speech, and rendered
them motionless.
[Illustration: THE CLOTHES-PIN TRIBE]
From the time when the spell came over them no Indian in all the
tribe had so much as winked an eye. And all would remain as they were
till the spell was broken.
All stood just as they did at the moment when the enchantment fell
upon them—the sentinels stock still at the doors of their tents, and
the others stiff and straight in the places where that awful moment
had found them; the giant chief stood just as he did on that day, ever
holding out the package of cigars bound about by the twisted band of
tobacco leaves.
When some paleface should take from the hand of the giant Indian the
cigars which he offered, the spell would be broken, but to this day no
such paleface had come.
This was the story Tom told Grandpa, the lone traveler, when asked
about his clothes-pin Indian village with its burdock wigwams. And
Grandpa said that it was no doubt true, for he, himself, had seen the
giant Indian chief standing, wooden and silent, on a city street,
offering cigars to every passer-by.
* * * * *
The Thanksgiving season brought to mind the other early settlers of
America, and these, too, were represented by clothes-pin men and women,
while the rude cabins of our forefathers were represented by corn cob
cabins chinked with mud.
John Alden in his tall Pilgrim hat and Priscilla in her gown of gray
and kerchief of white were favorite figures in these early history
plays of the West children.
[Illustration: JOHN AND PRISCILLA ALDEN]