I) R A i M N r 7 ' r r I ! s vv a m i 's 

 and many others? Oh, could I stand where my 

 tribes once roamed. But no vestige of the pow- 

 erful Pottowattomies remain. The lakes and 

 marshes and the Kankakee River, which my 

 canoe was want to glide; knows not the dip 

 of the Redman's paddle. Where once I moored 

 my canoe to the shore of Lake ./Michigan now 

 the great steamers are at anchor and the dip of 

 the Redman's paddle is heard no more. No 

 more does the flint-tipped arrow fall the deer 

 and the woodlands resound no more with his 

 bounding step upon the brink of the river. But 

 now comes the pioneer's cow in its stead. The 

 majesty of nature is dwarfed and humbled in 

 the marsh of the white man and on his trail is 

 naught but nature's ruins. I gaze on the camp 

 of the white man and hear him call it Chicago. 

 Oh Nau-nee-bo-zho, forgive the cruel pale-face 

 for disturbing the peace of the great Shaubanee, 

 whose home was along the Kankakee f^egion. 

 I seek for the wigwam of my people and find in 

 its place the houses and barns of the white man. 



194 



