speech, "Glory Hallelujah" was sung 

 before the bell for the first time on the 

 fair grounds. The little book, "The 

 Red Man's Greeting," above referred 

 to, was prepared for this occasion and 

 read for the first time. It was well re- 

 ceived, and many papers referred to it 

 in terms of extravagance. It was un 

 doubtedly full of eloquence character- 

 istic of the aborigines. 



Chief Pokagon's contributions to 

 bird literature have been numerous and 

 original That he was a lover of na- 

 ture is manifest through all his writings." 

 And he was a humane man, like Johnny 

 Appleseed, after quoting: 



"An inadvertant step may crush the snail 

 That crawls at evening- in the public path; 

 But he that hath humanity, forewarn'd. 

 Will tread aside, and let the reptile live." 



"In early life," he says, "I was deeply 

 mortified as I witnesssd the grand old 

 forestsof Michigan, under whose shades 

 my forefathers lived and died, falling 

 before the cyclone of civilization as be- 

 fore the prairie fire. In those days I 

 traveled thousands of miles along our 

 winding trails, through the wild soli- 

 tude of the unbroken forest, listening 

 to the song of the woodland birds, as 

 they poured forth their melodies from 

 the thick foliage above and about me. 

 Very seldom now do I catch one fa- 

 miliar note from those early warblers 

 of the woods. They have all passed 

 away, but with feelings of the deepest 

 gratitude I now listen to the songs of 

 other birds which have come with the 

 advance of civilization. They are with 

 us all about our homes and, like the 

 wild-wood birds which our fathers 

 used to hold their breath to hear, they 

 sing in concert, without pride, without 

 envy, without jealousy— alike in forest 

 and field; alike before the wigwam and 

 the castle ; alike for savage and for sage ; 

 alike for beggar and for prince; alike 

 for chief and for king." 



Writing of the wild goose, he says: 

 "I begged my father to try and catch 

 me a pair of these birds alive, that I 

 might raise a flock of them. He fin- 

 ally promised me he would try, and 



made me pledge myself to kindly care 

 for them. He made me a stockade 

 park to put them in, enclosing one- 

 half acre of land. One corner ran into 

 the lake, so as to furnish plenty of 

 water for the prospective captives. He 

 then made a brush box, three feet 

 square, trimming itwith rice straw from 

 the lake and left it at the water's edge 

 for future use. He then waded into 

 the lake where geese were in the habit 

 of feeding, finding the water nowhere 

 above his chin. On the following 

 morning a flock was seen feeding in the 

 lake. We went quietly to the shore; 

 father placed the box over his head and 

 waded carefully into the water. Soon 

 I could see only the box; it appeared 

 to be floating and drifted by the wind 

 toward the geese. At length it moved 

 in among the great birds. I held my 

 breath, fearing they would fly away. 

 Soon I saw one disappear, then another, 

 both sinking like lead into the water. 

 Not a sound could I hear. The rice 

 box began to slowly drift back. On 

 nearing the shore father emerged from 

 it with a live goose under each arm. 

 They seemed the most beautiful crea- 

 tures I had ever seen." The young 

 chief in three years raised a fine flock 

 of geese, which, he says, he treated as 

 prisoners of war, and was as kind to as 

 a mother to her children. He taught 

 them to eat corn from his hand and 

 each one to recognize a name given to 

 it. After the first year he gave them 

 their liberty, except in fall and spring, 

 when they were determined to migrate. 

 If he let them out with wings clipped, 

 so they could not fly, they would start 

 on the journey afoot for the south or 

 northland according to the time of 

 year. 



It is believed that the old chief left 

 behind him many interesting manu- 

 scripts. One of thirty thousand words 

 is known to the present writer. It is 

 autobiographical and historical of the 

 Pottowattomie tribe of Indians, and 

 will doubtless be printed, sooner or 

 later, if not on white birch bark, then 

 on good white paper. 



