Snippets #60

Bury My Heart at Wounded Knee-Dee Brown

Their musical names remained forever fixed on the American land, but their bones were forgotten in a thousand burned villages or lost in forests fast disappearing before the axes of twenty millions invaders. Already the once sweet-watered streams, most which bore Indian names, were clouded with silt and the wastes of man; the very earth was being ravaged and squandered. To the Indians it seemed that these Europeans hated everything in nature–the living forests and their birds and beasts, the grassy glades, the water, the soil, and the air itself. (7)

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