| Butler Pennsylvania 11
Buried Treasure There was a freshness, a newness in the land just beyond the edge of town, a kind of sacredness that even we boys felt playing there in its woods and fields, kept virginal, it seemed, since creation by Indians who once treaded there on padded feet, leaving nothing other than their burial ground, a mound or two, or words like Connoquenessing, Oneida and Chicora, with music in them, or those arrowheads we found and cherished; gentle reminders for us that what we stood on, revered earth left unsoiled by them, need be so kept as we had found it. And was not that, come to think of it now, the very respect the Indians lived by and handed down to us, our inheritance to be understood, practiced, made part of us— then passed on to our children after us. |
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