A COCONINA SQUAW 
ALICE R, CRANE. 
One day while my son Fred and I were 
traveling through the Indian country of 
Arizona, we stopped at a trader’s store at 
Fort A for supplies. While waiting on 
the long porch of the store, I noticed a 
miserably dressed, hungry looking squaw, 
having in her arms a pappoose about 10 
months’ old, which was wrapped in a dirty, 
ragged blanket. The squaw was crooning a 
song to her child in her own language. I 
did not know to what tribe she belonged, 
and spoke to Fred about it. His curiosity 
was also aroused, and his heart went out to 
the woman in her pitiable condition. 
“Mama, I am going to ask the trader to 
The rough trader came to the door, and 
on seeing the woman, started toward her, 
as if to kick her off the porch. Addressing 
her in Spanish, he told her to be gone. 
When she started to go, we interfered. 
“These creatures,’ he said, “are hanging 
around here all the time. I didn’t know she 
was here, or I should have driven her 
off. 
At last we made him understand that we 
wanted him to let the squaw stay, and asked 
him to call her back. He did as we wished, 
but scowled while doing so. The poor 
wretch came slowly and suspiciously up to 
her old seat. 
“What tribe does she 
asked. 
“She is a Coconina, a small tribe above 
Flagstaff. During their hunting trips they 
straggle in here. They are many miles 
from home, the miserable wretches, and 
I wish they were all in the Kingdom Come 
or some other place.” 
The squaw again began to sing to her 
child, rocking herself back and forth. 
“What does she say in her song?” asked 
Fred, with tears in his innocent eyes. .. 
“Do you really want to know?” he asked, 
smiling at the boy’s earnestness. 
“Yes, please translate her song, won’t 
you,’ said Fred. I joined in the request, 
and as he translated the lullaby, I wrote it 
down. 

belong to?” I 
“Your papa’s away on the mountains, 
To hunt food for baby and me. 
Mother and baby go hungry 
Since the white man has come here to stay. 
The game that once was your papa’s, 
The white man now claims as his own. 
The Indian is robbed of his pleasures, 
The deer and the antelope gone. 
Papa's wife and pappoose must go hungry, 
Though between moons be ever so long. 
The buffalo, too, has been slaughtered; 
Our people’s been awfully wronged. 
May the egrcat Spirit that now watches o’er 
us 
Take the white man away from our home.” 
Fred could stand it no longer. Wiping 
the tears from his eyes, he took the trader, 
who was laughing at the boy's tender- 
heartedness, by the arm and went into the 
store. He soon reappeared with a sack of 
food, which he gave to the Indian woman. 
I felt that something was wrong about the 
Indian question, and some one would have 
to account some time for all the mistakes 
made. The Coconinas are a self supporting 
tribe of about 150, and have never asked 
nor had Government aid. They live in a 
timbered country, not far from the Grand 
canyon. They are seldom heard of unless 
some one stumbles on them, as we did. 
An old pioneer told me that some 30 years 
ago he ran across this tribe, numbering 
about the same as now. He had with him 
some small mirrors, for trading. The Coco- 
ninas received him kindly. He told them 
he wished to give every babe in the tribe a 
glass. 
Babies galore were taken to him, one 
at a time, until he became convinced that 
every man as well as squaw, owned a pap- 
poose. By watching,«he found that when 
one pappoose received a mirror, the child 
was at once transferred to another squaw, 
who produced it again as a new applicant 
for a glass. So did the wily red people out- 
wit the trader. 
Tommy—Ma, may I have Jimmy Briggs 
over to play on Saturday? 
Mrs. 
noise. 
to play.—Exchange. 
Fogg—No, 
357 
you 
You'd better go down to his house 
make too much 
