Softly on the forest floor,
Tread of moccasins, no more
Can glide through dale and hill.
Tho’ tears may fall and we deplore
Their disappearance, and abhor
What causes man to kill.
How hard for us to contemplate
That wiped away a people’s fate.

From a poem by
Ernest A. Peyton

Much has been written about the early European settlers in North America, those who helped shape our destiny. They did what they thought was necessary in their day to accomplish their aims. Many suffered privations and loneliness as well as confrontations with native cultures.