This collection of verse I have named
“Flint and Feather” because of the association
of ideas. Flint suggests the Red Man’s weapons
of war; it is the arrow tip, the heart-quality of
mine own people; let it therefore apply to those poems
that touch upon Indian life and love. The lyrical
verse herein is as a
“Skyward floating feather,
Sailing on summer air.”
And yet that feather may be the eagle
plume that crests the head of a warrior chief; so
both flint and feather bear the hall-mark of my Mohawk
blood.
E.P.J.