Part 16 (2/2)

With joy we saw fair Puget Sound, White, glistening peaks set all around.

At Alki Point our feet we stayed, (The women wept, the children played).

On Chamber's prairie, Whidby's isle, Duwamish river, mile on mile Away from these, on lake or bay The lonely settlers blazed the way For civilization's march and sway.

The mountains, forests, bays and streams, Their grandeur wove into our dreams; Our thoughts grew great and undismayed, We toiled and sang or waiting, prayed.

As suns arose and then went down We gazed on Rainier's snowy crown.

G.o.d's battle-tents gleamed in the west, So pure they called our thoughts above To heaven's joy and peace and love.

We found a race tho' rude and wild, Still tender toward friend or child, For dark eyes laughed or shone with tears As joy or sorrow filled the years; Their black-eyed babes the red men kissed And captive brothers sorely missed.

With broken hearts, brown mothers wept When babes away by death were swept.

Chief Sealth stood the white man's friend, With insight keen he saw the end Of struggles vain against a foe Whose coming forced their overthrow.

For pity oft he freed the slaves, To reasoning cool he called his braves; But bitter wrongs the pale-face wrought-- Revenge and hatred on us brought.

With life the woods and waters teemed, A boundless store we never dreamed, Of berries, deer and grouse and fish, Sufficient for a gourmand's wish.

Our dusky neighbors friendly-wise Brought down the game before our eyes; They wiled the glittering finny tribe, Well pleased to trade with many a jibe.

We lit the forests far and wide With pitchwood torches, true and tried, We traveled far in frail canoes, Cayuses rode, wore Indian shoes, And clothes of skin, and ate clam stews, Clam frys and chowder; baked or fried The clam was then the settler's pride; ”Clam-diggers” then, none dared deride.

A sound arose our hearts to thrill, From whirring saws in Yesler's mill; The village crept upon the hill.

On many hills our city's spread, As fair a queen as one that wed The Adriatic, so 'tis said.

Our tasks so hard are well nigh done-- Today our hearts will beat as one!

Each one may look now to the west For end of days declared the best, Since sunset here is sunrise there, Our heavenly home is far more fair.

As up the slope of coming years Time pushes on the pioneers, With peace may e'er our feet be shod And press at last the mount of G.o.d.

E. I. DENNY.

Seattle, June, 1893.

CHAPTER II.

BIOGRAPHICAL NOTES AND SKETCHES.

JOHN DENNY.

As elsewhere indicated, only a few of the leading characters will be followed in their careers. Of these, John Denny is fittingly placed first.

John Denny was born of pioneer parents near Lexington, Kentucky, May 4th, 1793. In 1813 he was a volunteer in Col. Richard M. Johnson's regiment of mounted riflemen, and served through the war, partic.i.p.ated in the celebrated battle of the Thames in Canada, where Tec.u.mseh was killed and the British army under Proctor surrendered. Disaster fell upon him, the results of which followed him throughout his life. The morning gun stampeded the horses in camp while the soldiers were still asleep, and they ran over John Denny where he lay asleep in a tent, wounding his knee so that the synovial fluid ran out and also broke three of his ribs. In 1823 he removed to Putnam County, Indiana, then an unknown wilderness, locating six miles east of Greencastle, where he resided for the succeeding twelve years. He is remembered as a leading man of energy and public spirit.

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