Jan 24, 2018
From the tall grass came the voice of a crying babe. The huntsmen who were passing nigh heard and halted.
The tallest one among them hastened toward the high grass with long, cautious strides. He waded through the growth of green with just a head above it all. Suddenly exclaiming “Hunhe!” he dropped out of sight. In another instant he held up in both his hands a tiny little baby, wrapped in soft brown buckskins.
“Oh ho, a wood-child!” cried the men, for they were hunting along the wooded river bottom where this babe was found.
While the hunters were questioning whether or no they should carry it home, the wee Indian baby kept up his little howl.
“His voice is strong!” said one.
“At times it sounds like an old man’s voice!” whispered a superstitious fellow, who feared some bad spirit hid in the small child to cheat them by and by.