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<DIV>When we reached Fort Laramie , we saw Indian camps everywhere. Some
distance away from the fort, we children found a place where the very ground
itself, was glistening with bright colored, tiny beads. The others picked up
large quantities of them, but Mother told me to leave them alone. She
explained that it was an Indian graveyard, and that ants were bringing the beads
from the graves underneath. They were all small anyway and I did not care very
much about them, though, of course, they would have been better than
nothing.</DIV>
<DIV> </DIV>
<DIV> Later several women took me with them when they went for a
walk. It was on this walk that I saw the string of beads that stands out
from all other beads in my memory. They were on a buck-string and hung in a
great loop through a crack in a rude platform that stood five or six feet
from the ground. They did not seem to belong to anyone in particular. Here at
last were the very beads for me. </DIV>
<DIV> </DIV>
<DIV> So I caught the string in both hands and pulled with all my
might. They seemed caught on something, so I tugged this way and that and
jerked till my breath came in gasps. I was determined to have them. I took
my feet off the ground and swung with all my might on the string,
but still the thing above that held it, would not give way. So I called for Mrs.
Athey to help me. That was my undoing. She screamed at me: "Charlotte,
Charlotte, come away from there at once. Don't you know those beads are
around a dead Indian's neck? " I let go, but not because of the Indian, I
let go because she told me to, and I did it reluctantly, even then. Oh! they
were so beautiful, yellow and blue and black. Such a fine long string
too.</DIV>
<DIV> </DIV>
<DIV> They took me back to camp at once and told Mother about it. She
scrubbed me with everything that she had. She would have boiled me, if she
had dared, and I am sure that she did not kiss me for a week without
afterwards wiping her mouth. She treated me exactly as she treated Jasper
after he had met his first skunk. </DIV>
<DIV> </DIV>
<DIV> I wanted those beads, and I seem to want them even yet. I have
never owned a string of them, though I see them now on everyone. I
sometimes wear a lorgnette that hangs from a chain, fashioned to look like
tiny gold beads. I wear it, because it pleases my family, but I do not like
it. The clasp bothers me, it is very intricate and my fingers have grown
old.</DIV>
<DIV> </DIV>
<DIV><FONT lang=0 face=Arial size=2 FAMILY="SANSSERIF" PTSIZE="10"><B>Walt
Davies<BR>Cooper Hollow Farm<BR>Monmouth, OR 97361<BR>503 623-0460 <BR></B><IMG SRC="cid:X.MA1.1114291324@aol.com" height=93 width=72 border=0 DATASIZE="2892" ID="MA1.1114291324" ></FONT></DIV></FONT></BODY></HTML>