It's been a long time since I have written a blog, life seemed to get very busy, even with all the restrictions of the pandemic. But here I am giving it a go again.
Some time ago I wrote a blog about the stories that my grandmother used to tell when I was a young boy. They were all remembered, not written down, so once she passed away I thought that they were lost forever. Not so. You have already read about Bobtail Bunny and now you can read about Chief Eagle Crest. Bear in mind that these stories came from a different time, the world has changed and Indian means something different. Today we would refer to native Americans. But it was of its time.
I feel that there should be more of it, that there is an ending missing from this but I'm not sure what it is. These stories were told to me over 50 years ago when all things were different.
Here it is:
Chief Eagle Crest
Dick found this box beside his bed
One morning when he woke.
“For the big Indian Chief,” it said.
It really was a joke.
He cut the string and peeped inside
And gave a whoop of joy!
An Indian outfit, fine, he cried
“I am a lucky boy!”
In half a minute I’ll be dressed
And then I’ll be Chief Eagle Crest!
Chief Eagle Crest has spied a Joe,
“Your doom has come!” he cried.
And fixed an arrow to his bow
Straight to the mark it flew.
The wounded paleface has to yield
It’s just a scarecrow in a field.
Then mounting on his trusty horse
The great chief rode astride
Until he reached a watercourse
A river deep and wide.
“I’m coming now to rescue you!”
Called out the Indian brave.
“I’m paddling in my small canoe
Your life I mean to save!”
The maiden was indeed distressed
She’d fallen from the bank.
But just in time Chief Eagle Crest
Arrived before she sank.
He hoisted her in his canoe
She looked a dreadful sight.
And paddling swiftly to the shore
He took her to dry land once more
For she was dripping wet right through,
Her cheeks were pale with fright.
He set her on his trusty steed
And swiftly rode away.
“A squaw” he said “is what I need
So maiden you shall stay”
“And in the wigwam you will dwell
And hear the tales I have to tell”
He helped the maiden to alight
Within a pretty glade.
A box of chocolates they shared
They are delicious each declared…
Maybe one of you, out there will know how this ended. But, like Bobtail Bunny, it remains a Googlewhack.
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