← Harold's Old Time Radio
Harold's Old Time Radio
The Lone Indian 37xxxx xxx Pawnee-Ute Fight
00:09:45
The Lone Indian 37xxxx xxx Pawnee-Ute Fight
Loading summary
Transcript7 lines
- [00:01]
MacKenzie
We interrupt this program to bring you an important Wayfair message. Wayfair's got Style Tips for Every home. This is Styles MacKenzie helping you make those rooms sing. Today's Style TIP when it comes to making a statement, treat bold patterns like neutrals. Go wild like an untamed animal. Print area rug under a rustic farmhouse table from wayfair.com fierce this has been your Wayfair style tip to keep those interiors superior. Wayfair Every style, Every home.
- [00:32]
Robert E. Callahan
No story of America holds the interest of school children as that of the American Indian. He was full of power to thrill the heart with romance and captivate the fancy. His mind was forever filled with the mystery of nature, superstition, imagination and belief in spiritual power. And the invisible spirits which came in dreams. And his conception of things and people were drawn upon rocks, trees, caves and in ancient ruins, symbols which no white man ever understood and which are the background of the Lone Indian stories In the progress of our episodes, which have a historical background, are gripping tales of Indian chiefs, pioneers on the Pony Express, of fighting caravans in dramatic days of 49 stories of flashing arrows and army guns, and of roving bands of red men who fought their way toward the land of the setting sun. We now introduce again Mr. Robert E. Callahan, noted authority of Indian life and lore will continue his story of the Lone Indian.
- [01:28]
Narrator
How Cola my friends, in last night's story you were told of the travels and adventures of the toll caravan featured with the daily and constant friendship of the Lone Indian and how at every turn or bend of the road his piercing eyes surveyed the surrounding landscape. Indeed a man of mystery. For the next two days the party traveled through miles of virgin forest valleys and across numerous streams, and on Saturday night they pitched camp. Near the camp was a winding stream spanned by a long made bridge on either side of the bridge, tall pines in a forest of underbrush. Beyond the stream, the road led out over a sloping ridge into the barren Utah desert. During the evening meal the Lone Indian sprang suddenly to his feet, grasping his bow and arrows. Poole's eyes flashed back to see a score of Pawnee Indians in warlike paint and feathers astride ponies advancing from the west. He seized his rifle. Uncle Ezra jumped to the COVID of the second wagon. Mother Pool, Grandmother Pollard, and Luke grabbed the children and they ran toward the pool carav. Instead of attacking, however, the ponies dashed by the caravan without a moment's pause. Racing across the long bridge, they dismounted hurriedly and clamored into the woods. Pool was non fussed as the Indians began to hide in the underbrush. But his ornament was of short duration, for on the peak of the barren ridge ahead appeared about 200 yelping mutes, some of them mounted, some on foot, all carrying guns, war clubs, spears and arrows, and moving over the foothills like a swarm of bees. Poole surmised that the hidden ponies were planning to wipe out the Utes as they came forward toward the bridge. But the lone Indian saw that the oncoming Utes outnumbered the ponies 10 to 1. A short time would find the Utes killing every pony who advanced, and in their mad rush, they might destroy the caravan. As for himself, he knew that he could bound into the forest and escape, but that would leave his white friends open to harm. As the swarming Utes came nearer and narrow and the ponies got set for battle, the lone Indian quickly formed a plan of safety. His first thought was to burn the bridge so the Utes could not pass. But they were daring horsemen, and their ponies could swim. Therefore, his only chance was to ignite the forest which lay beyond the bridge and the onrushing Ute. With the forest afire, the ponies must meet the Utes in the open, and the winning Utes would soon return to their village beyond the bridge. He was sure of this. So, through reluctant to bring harm to the Pawnees, the lone Indian took a buckskin pouch from his folded blanket, hurriedly smeared pitch on his arrows, and then he inserted flints into the sockets of their tips. Lightning. 1. He shot a blazing arrow into the underbrush beyond the bridge. Instantly, the spot caught fire. A second shot a few yards below started a second fire. The third blazing arrow, sent farther down also ignited the brush. One after another, he sent flying arrows up and down the other side of the stream, and soon the mighty forest was aflame. The dry underbrush blazed like flaming gas. The dense smoke rose in rolling waves as the red clouds of fire swept on with terrific speed, enclosing the forest in a pall of gloom. Massive, rolling, twisting waves of smoke and belching flames rose above the pines. The intense heat and licking tongues of fire from the crackling branches and toppling trees moved toward the hills now climbing higher and higher until the smoke and heat forced the fighting Pawnees from their position and then continued on in clouds so dense they filled the atmosphere with seething clouds of smoke. Poole and his peoples recognized, reconciled to their fate, had sat frozen to the wagon seats as they looked out across the roaring forest fire. The stately forest was within a very short time in a bed of ashes and burning, smoldering stumps. The Utes, with victorious cries, dashed back to the ridge and were soon lost to view as the lone Indian realized that the conflagration beyond had sent the fighting ponies into eternity. For a moment he stood like a statue, the dying flames casting crimson shadows upon his copper cheeks. He folded his arms across his broad chest. He stood in silence. Then he faced the sky, and his lips moved in silent prayer. The cool evening breeze soon moved across the smoldering cinder bed. The smoke cleared. The stillness brought peace. And when morning broke, serene and bright, the Pawnees had been laid to rest in the ashes of fate. And the caravan moved on. Yoho in Indian means farewell. Aukola means friendship, and notabar means love. So we close our program tonight with an Indian prayer of the Yakima chief. Our campfire is burning low. The ashes in our pipe are cool. It is time for solitude, sleep and rest. So upon this sacred shield of life we place the golden eagle feather and we make our pledge. For tomorrow we will arise with a smile upon our lips, kindness in our face and music in our heart. We will be good to Mother, kind to Father, and loyal to our friends. We will also be cheerful. Speak less, think more, and never criticize anyone. We will be calm when others fuss, and we will hold our temperature. Be gentle, courteous, keep our promises. And every day, in some unselfish way, we will try to make others happy. And now, as we extend to you our pipe of peace and hope, the sacred pipe of friendship, love and high ideals. And as the curling smoke wins its way to the soft blue sky, we ask the Great Spirit to incline your heart with the golden band of health and to fill your soul with peace, love, sunshine and happiness. Yo ho, Haukola no te b Ra.
- [10:15]
Ella
How did Ella bake her way to the top? It all started with one smart decision. She test drove a certified used truck from her local Ford dealer. It was inspected, backed by a Ford warranty, and fit her budget. A Carfax report was the cherry on top. Soon, a pinch of confidence became a truckload of ambition. Cupcakes became customers. Customers became regulars.
- [10:35]
MacKenzie
Hola.
- [10:36]
Ella
Turns out Ella's next great investment was herself. Ford Blue Advantage used car buying that's built for you. See dealer for full program and limited warranty details.
- [10:45]
Expedia
Packages by Expedia. You were made to be rechargeable. We were made to package flights, hotels and hammocks for less Expedia made to travel.