The Legend of Mineral Wells

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Project		 Palo Pinto Co., TXGenWeb
TXGenWeb
Project

1857 Star News Centennial Edition 1957
Section 1 page 7
submitted by Bob Jessup

The Legend of Mineral Wells

RESORT this morning has the exclusive honor and pleasure of presenting to its reader for the first time the magnificent production in verse of "The Legend of Mineral Wells" by the brilliant and versatile son of the South, G. Herb Palin.  It is a beautiful story, most charmingly told, and was written by Mr. Palin at the behest of the Commercial Club of this city, for which they paid him the handsome fee of $200  -- the highest price ever paid for a poem in the South.  Mr. Palin is a contributor to all the leading magazines and has also written quite a bit of verse for Charles Dana Gibson, descriptive of the drawings of the talented artist.  The dedication of the poem is, in itself, a feature.

The following poem is respectfully dedicated to President Theodore Roosevelt, with the earnest hope that at the expiration of his political life he will visit the new Texas health resort and abiding there, renew all the vigor of his youth.
I'll tell you a story strange and quaint,
But a story, they say, that's true;
Of healing wells where strong health dwells
'Neath Texas skies of blue.

'Tis a wonderful tale, as the legend runs,
Of a beautiful Indian maid
And a warrior, who his life to save,
To a sun kissed valley strayed.

It happened, oh, ever so long ago,
Far back in the dimming past,
That Running Fawn, one day at dawn,
A glance 'cross the prairie cast.

As the sun-rays brightened the eastern sky
And the gray dawn turned to day
She saw War Cloud and his warriors proud
To the war trail ride away.

The war paint gleamed on each bronze face
And the war plumes waved on high
While the war steeds neighed and the war plumes swayed
As the warriors passed her by.


Far out on the prairie then they rode
And War Cloud waved his hand
To Running Fawn, then he was gone
To fight in a far-off land.

Then the maid'n waited for moons and moons
While the green corn turned to gold,
And the hot sun beat in summer heat, 
She waited 'til the days grew cold.

She gazed from her lodge 'cross the rolling plain,
From dawn till the night birds sang;
And her love was true and stronger grew
As she through of the war bows twang.

And the moon grew old and the moon grew young,
The moon grew old again;
From the green corn dance to the great bear dance
She waited, her heart in pain.

Then Running Fawn from her lodge set forth
Her lover chief to find,
And far 'cross the plain in sun and rain
Her tribe was left behind.

She journeyed afar o'er hill and dale,
'Cross running streams and sand,
Pass deep abyss where serpents hiss,
To a strange and mystic land.

The seasons changed as she wandered on,
And faltering grew her tread,
But her love was strong the whole time long
As she passed through the land of dread.

To a starlit plain at last came she
In the midst of a witching night,
Lying billo'y green 'neath the ghostly sheen
Of the pale moon's amber light.

She found him there, her chief, War Cloud,
With his warriors all around;
Lying still and weak, unable to speak,
At the crest of a green clad mound.

The braves no more would war-whoop shout
No more their arrows fly,
They had fought their fight that very night
And died as warriors die.

Then Running Fawn by her chieftain knelt
She kissed his hair, his face,
And all the might long chanted a song,
A song of love -- and the chase.

The flush of dawn was in the sky
When War Cloud raised his head
And gazed at his love, at the skies above --
At his warriors lying dead.

A mist that was dark dim'd eyes once bright
His red blood darkened the ground,
But the glory of fight of that hard-fought night
Still filled his ears with sound.

No light in his eyes for Running Fawn,
No thought of the breaking of day;
Not a shadow of thought for his tribe who sought
For them both in the far away.

Then the maiden lifted her voice and sang
To the Spirit Great, above;
Just chanted a prayer while kneeling there
For the life of her long lost Love.

As the soft notes rang through the morning air,
And the sun the sky did greet;
An open trail through the misty veil
Appeared at War Cloud's feet.

Then Running Fawn grasped the chieftain's hand
And led him along the way,
With tenderest care from every snare,
And the light of the new-born day.

To a valley of green came they at last,
Where the birds sang loud and free,
Where sweet flowers grew of gorgeous hue
Each kissed by the honey-bee.

A soft wind blew from the hills around,
And the sky gleamed bright above;
'Twas a valley of rest by Nature blest,
A valley of health and love.

In the midst of it all, clear sparkling bright,
A spring from the white sands welled;
'Twas a Fountain of Youth, in very truth,
A fount where strong health dwelled.

They knelt on the gleaming sands, the two,
And drank of the waters clear;
Just splashed in the pool, in its healing cool
With never a thought of fear.

Then, lo, with a shout they sprang afoot,
A mystic thing was done,
Their blood coursed free, they danced with glee,
For health and strength was won.

Then strong in youth and hand in hand,
With never an ache or pain,
They started away that very day;
For tribe and lodge again.

They sang of the water's healing power,
They told of its mystic worth;
'Til its fame ran wide on every side,
And spread throughout the earth.

Then far away from fair Castile
Great Ponce De Leon came
To seek out the truth, the Fountain of Young
For he had heard of its fame.

But the Redman guarded the secret well,
He searched but never found;
And for many a day 'twas hid away
By the green clad hills around.

But the white man searched 'till he found at last
The wonderful fount that heals;
And Mineral Wells, the story tells,
The secret now reveals.

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