How slowly and heavily
passed the hours away. But at last the third day came. The morning
waned away, and the afternoon was far advanced, yet the chief came not.
There was sorrow over the whole home, and the mother, pale and silent,
walked her room in despair. The judge, filled with anxious doubts and
fears, looked through the opening in the forest towards the sachem's
abode.

At last, as the rays of the setting sun were thrown upon the tops of
the tall trees around, the eagle feathers of the chief were seen
dancing above the bushes in the distance. He came rapidly, and the
little boy was at his side. He was gayly attired as a young chief: his
feet dressed in moccasins, a fine beaver-skin thrown over his
shoulders, and eagle's feathers stuck in his hair. He was laughing and
gay, and so proud of his honors that he seemed two inches taller than
before. He was soon clasped in his mother's arms, and in that brief
moment of joy she seemed to pass from death to life.

"The white man has conquered!" said the chief; "hereafter let us be
friends. You have trusted the Indian; he will repay you with confidence
and kindness."

And he was true to his word. Judge W---- lived many years, laying there
the foundation of that flourishing community which has spread over a
wide extent of western New York.

The Far West, in my childhood, meant the "Genesee country," as far as
the falls of Niagara.

BIG THUNDER--A WINNEBAGO CHIEF.

The Winnebago Indians migrated from Belvidere, Illinois, on the
Kish-wau-kie River, to Minnesota, and thence to the Omaha reservation,
in Nebraska. At Belvidere, there is a mound on which Big Thunder when
he died was set up, his body supported by posts driven in the ground.
This was done at his dying request, and in accord with his prophecy to
his tribe: "That there was to be a great and terrible fight between the
white and red men. And when the red men were about to be beaten in the
battle, he would come to life again, and rising up with a shout, would
lead his people to victory!" His tribe would visit the spot once a
year, where his body was drying away, and leave tobacco as an offering;
and the white young men would surely go there soon after and stow the
plugs away in their capacious pockets. As the town became settled,
visitors would carry off the bones as mementos of the old chief. After
they were all gone, some wags would place the bones of some dead sheep
for relic-hunters to pick up and c