but proud of having been wrapped in the flag at birth, always ranked 

 himself as a partisan of the white men, and saved many of them from 

 torture or death in the Yankton massacre of 1863. 



Struck-by-the-Ree, grown to young manhood, fell deeply in love 

 with a beautiful Indian girl. Together they often sat beneath the 

 oak, talking happily of their future, when one day the terrible war- 

 whoop of the Rees\vas heard, and a fierce battle followed. It was 

 during this encounter that the young warrior received the wound that 

 earned for him his odd title, though not until after he had suffered a 

 greater misfortune. 



"A youthful form was seen 



To hover at his side 



Wherever in the dawn 



The Chief could be descried. 



Our warrior's horse was killed 



At breaking of the day. 



On foot he fought, the youth 



But one arm's length away. 



When from a thicket near 

 An arrow fiendish dart 

 Was sent from sinew string 

 Straight at my lover's heart. 

 The youth like lightning sprang 

 From beneath a bending tree, 

 Receiving deep in the breast 

 The arrow of the Ree. 



Thou hast saved my life, brave youth 

 Thy breast hath been my shield; 

 The Sioux are saved a Chief 

 Upon this bloody field. 

 Thy name! Speak quickly! Alas! 

 My Love! O maiden mine! 

 The arrow for my heart 

 Hath entered into thine!" 



There was only time to carry the dying girl away from the field, 

 and return, himself, to the battle where he was soon severely wounded 

 by another dart from the Rees. But summoning all his strength 

 he led the charge again, while the word passed from one to another 

 that he was risen from the dead. An overwhelming victory for the 

 Sioux was the result. 



Struck-by-the-Ree recovered from his wound, and lived for a 

 number of years, returning often to the old oak, to sit under its shade 

 and mourn his lost love. 



Washington Oak 



During the summer of 1791, Washington traveled extensively 

 through the south, and was one morning entertained at breakfast by 

 a lady, who lived in the suburbs of Charleston, S. C. Chancing to 

 hear her order the gardener to cut down a splendid oak because 

 it obstructed the view from the new portico, he interceded for the 

 tree, which was spared at his request and which has ever since borne 

 his name. 



From poem "The Old Oak Tree," by Benjamin Wade Borleigh. 



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