"there was not a stick amiss"
SIXTY-SEVEN years ago "there was not a stick amiss" in what is now the thriving township of Cardington. The gaunt wolf sought his prey unscarred by the crack of the rifle, deer stalked the woods unstartled by the ringing ax, and the red man, closely allied to these denizens of the forest, had reared his wigwam on the banks of the streams, in the vain hope that the tide of civilization was soon to ebb, and that this land of nature would be left to her children. But the rude awakening, was not far distant. The ax of the surveyor, the signal for the advance of a mighty host, was already heard in the distance; the neighboring settlements, ready to send forth their surplus population, were arming and equipping to possess the land; while far to the East the story of rich lands to be won by little more than hard labor, had brought up the second line, and ere the dazed, senses of the natives had taken in the situation, the victory was won, and they, helpless and homeless amidst the resources and villages of civilization, retreated to the deeper recesses of their native woods.
In this oft-repeated story, there is much to attract the attention of the thoughtful mind. Why should it be written in the fate of the red man that he, banished from the birthplace of his children and the grave of his sires, should be driven gradually to inevitable extermination? Does not the love of race, kindred and country, burn with a bright and joyous flame in his heart? Does not his arm stretch forth a ready and powerful hand to avenge their wrongs? Does not his "untutored mind" do reverence to the Great Spirit in the moon and stars? Shall we say that God and Nature forsake their children? Or is their history but a link in that mighty chain of providences that is leading the world up to the higher plane--a progress where each in his turn must give way to the inexorable law of "the survival of the fittest? If this be true, when shall the fatal symbol, Ichabod, be written over the history of the white race?
heritagepursuit.com
[Note: Found this passage while researching the migration of my ancestors through Ohio. Was at first intrigued by the quaint nineteenth century style of prose, and then amazed to find out that my people arrived there in 1818. -Snowshoe] |
