Des Moines courier. ([Ottumwa] Iowa) 1848-1854, 1851-04-11
WHOLE NO. 1919,

sheil IN tne use-place, tnere, that !
opened OF itself at the Prodigal Son.
! A thought struck me, and so watched
and saw that whenever The old gentle
man read it on Sundays, he was always
looking there. II was some time before
ventured to speak about it; but one day
when father was wondering what coult
have been Samuel's fate, said, per
haps, father, he will still come home
like the Prodigal Son in tie Scripture
and if he does wen kill the fatted call
for him. and no one viii rejoice in il
more truly than Joseph WILL" .f 50. la
"When had said it. l wished | had
not said it-for father seemed struck
as with stake. He went as pale as
death, and l thought he would fall down
in fiji; but, at last, he burst into tor.
rent of tears, and, stretching ont his
.larms, said,-'And if he does come he'll
finda fathers arms open to receive him."
'sAh, sir! it was hard work to comfor
him again. thought he would never
have got over it again; but, after that, he
began at times TO speak of Samuel to me
of himself, and we've had deal of talk
together about bin. Sometimes father
/ thinks he is dead, and sometimes he
thinks he is not; and true enough, OF
late years, there have come flying rumors
from America, from people who have
gone out there, who have said they have
seen him there--and that he was very
great gentleman-they were sure it was
him. But then there was always some
thing uncertain in the account, and, above
all, father said he never could believe
Samuel was a great gentleman. and We,
never could forgive an angry blow, and
write home through all these years.
These things, sir, pull the old man down,
and what with his other troubles, make
1 me tremble to look forward" E@
Mrs. Warilow stopped, for she was
surprised to hear deep suppressed sob,
frem the stranger; and, turning she saw
him sitting with his handkerchief before
his face. Strange ideas shot across her
mind. But at this momen. the old far.
mer, having finished his after dinner nap,
was coming out to seek them. Mr..
Nandeleur rose, wiped some tears from
his face and thanked Mrs. Warilow for
her communication. "You cannot i'm
agine," he said, with much feeling, show
deeply you have touched me. You cam
not believe how much what you have
said resembles incidents in my own life.
Depend upon it, madam, your brother
will turn up. feel strongly melted to
help III il. We will have a search after
him, if it be from ST. Lawrence TO the
Red River. If he lives he will be found;
and feel persuasion that he will be. I"
They now met the old man, and all
walked into the house. After tea there
was much talk of America. Mr.. Van
fdeleur related many things in his own
history. He drew such pictures Of A.
merican life, and farming, and hunting
in the woods; of the growth of new
| families, and the prosperous abundance
in which the people lived; that all were
extremely interested in his account. Joe
sat devouring the story with wonder,
luxuriating especially in the idea Of
those immense herds Of cattle in the
prairies; and The old man even declared
| that there he shonld like to go and lay
his bones. "Perhaps," added he, ",here
should some day, find again my Sam.
But no, he must be dead, or he would
have written. Many die in the swamps
and from fever, don't they, sir?" .a
"Oh, many, many" said Mr.. Vande-
leur, sand yet there are often as mracu-
lous recoveries. For many years l was
Government Surveyor. 1t was my
business to survey new tracts for sale.
| was the solitary pioneer of the popula.
/ tion; with a single man to carry my
chain, and TO assist me in cutting path
! through the dense woods. lived in the
/ woods for years, for months seeing no
soul but few wa andering Indians. Some
times we were in peril from jealons and
savage squatters; sometimes were COM
| PEELED to flee before the monster grizzly
bear. Ihave a strange fascinating feel.
ing now of those days, and of our living
for weeks in the great caves in the While
Mountains, since become the resort ol
summer tourists, with the glorious
"Notch' glittering opposite far above us
and above the ancient woods. Those
were days of real hardships, and we of.
ten saw sights of sad sorrow. Families
making their way to distant and wild To-
calities, plundered by the inhuman squat.
tiers, oEby the Indians, and others seiz.
ed by the swamp fever, perishing with
out help, often all alone in the wilder
pess. s,....s
"Ah! remember now one case-it is
nearly twenty years ago. but l never
can forget. II was a young, thin man
he could scarcely be twenty. He had
been left by his party in the last stage oil
fever. They had raised a slight booth
Of green bushes over him, and placed a
pumpkin shell of water by his side, and
a broken tea-cup to help himself with,
but he was too weak, and was fast sink.
ing there all alone in that vast wilderness.
The paleness of death appeared in his
sunken features, the feebleness of death
in his wasted limbs. He was youth
who, like many others, had left his
friends in Europe, and now longed to
let them know his end. He summoned
his failing powers to give me sacred