The American patriot., 1855-06-16
The Lost Sister Of Wyoming.
A TALE OF THE REVOLUTION.

Among the inhabitants of the beautiful val
ley Of Wyoming, at the period of its invasion
by that blood-thirsty band Of tories and sava-
ges, who. with barbarity seldom equaled, laid
waste and destroyed every vestge of that
beautiful settlement. numbering the inhabitants
and driving off their cattle, was a Quaker bv
the name Of Jonathan Slocum, whose peace.
ful disposition, and many acts of kindness to
the Indians, saved his dwelling from the torch,
and his family from annoyance, while his
neighbors were butchered, their houses burnt
ana their children captive. This impunity,
however, was Of short duration. Mr. Slocum
had son Giles, who was in the battles, and it
is supposed that the Indiaas, becoming aware
OF the fact. determined on a bloody revenge.
In the family Of Mr.. S. was the wife of a neigh
Dor who had been taken captive by the Indians
and her two sons, one Is, the other l2 years
old. One morning in November, four months
after the bloody massacre had made the valley
q desolation, party of redskn warriors were
seen rrowling around the vicinity of Wilkes.
barre Fort. The two boys had gone to the
grindstone to sharpen knife, and the women
; were engaged in their domestic duties. when
Mrs. Slocum was startled by shot, and
shrek from one Of the boys Stepping TO the
door, she beheld a swarthv warrior in the net
OF scalping the oldest boy with the knife he
had been grinding. Horror.stricken at the sight
she staggered back, and was followed bv the
Indian with the warm and reeking scalp in his
hands.
Looking about him for plunder, he discover
ed nothing to tempt his cupdity worth the risk
OF carrying off, but little son of Mrs. Slocum.
who stood in his way as he turned to the door,
Selling him in his arms, he was about to de.
part, when Mrs. S. with all mothers feeling
caught him by the arm and besought him, in
tones OF earnest cntreaty, not to deprive her of
ner boy. 'See, said she, 'he can do thee no
good, he is lame"
:. Dropping the boy, he took up little daugh.
ter of five years, who had crouched in fear be.
hind high backed chair, and was making his
way out when the mother again stopped him,
and plead for her child. In the most pathetic
tones she implorcd him to leave her bright-eyed
darling. the light Of her home and the ioy of
her household. AS Wen might she have was
ted her words upon the stern rocks of the idle
wind; tine rugged nature of the savage was not
to be moved by the earnest appeals Of the pale
faced squaw. Grasping with one hand the
mantle which enwrapped him, she held on with
a tenacity which had we'll nigh accomplished
her purpose. Finding himself impeded in his
exit, and fearful of approaching assistance, the
savage drew his tomahawk and raised it to fin
ish at blow her importantly aud her life.
Reading in his eyes his stern determination,
ard wrought to pitch of agony beyond which
her system refused to go, she yielded her grasp
and sank in swoon at his feet. The Indian,
relieved of her annoyance, now took his dcpar-
ture with the little Frances in his arms, and as
he passed through the yard, seized upon the
other son of Mrs Kingsley, whom he also bore
Oft prisoner. All this was but the scene Of a
few moments, yet how much oftelror and heart
breaking agony was embraced within that short
nf 90
suspense and deep despair had their birth in
those few brief moments. Mrs. Kingsley who
had stood a terrified beholder of the scene,
when she saw her second and only living child
torn from her and carried into captivity, sank
under the afilction and gave herself up to a sto-
iii apathy, little short of despair. One of Mr..
Slocum's ceildrcn had with sagacitv bepond
her years, at the first appearance Of the sava-
ges snatched up the youngest child and fed to
to the fort, where she gave the alarm and
party started at once for the house, but the In
dians were already beyond the reach of sue
cessful pursuit.
In short time after the above melancholy
bereavement, Mrs. Socum was called upon to
part with her husband and father, who were
both shot and scalped by party Of Indians,
while foddering cattle near the house. Thus,
in the short space ofsix weeks, was that happy
AAouSS"oio oIohcu anu ucSIIOyeu, anu llS S|lT-
viving members wrapped in misery as with a
mantle. Her religion sustained Mrs Slocum
in her day of trial, and she threw herself and
her nine remaining children upon the mercy of
her Heavenly Father, and bowed her head,
without murmcr, to his decrees For the
dead she did not mourn; they were at rest, and
no sorrow or useles repinings could sestore
them to her again. But her lost daughter, her
darling Frances, was ever present in her
thoughts. Like Rachael weeping for her chill
dren, she refused to be comforted, and enter
tained lively hope that she would one day be
restored to arms again. Her spirits seemed
buoyed up with this hope, and she lived in the
anticipation of again seeing her and pressing
her to her bosom. Days, weeks, months and
years rolled on and the lamp of hope still burn
ed as brightly as ever. No tidings had ever
reached her of her child. and all gave her up
but her poor heart-stricken mother. When
peace was declared, and many captives return
cd to their homes and families, she sent two of
her sons to Canada in search Of their lost sister
They sought her wherever there was the slight
est chance of her presence; they offered re-
wards for her recovery, but in vain, and they
returned to their home and mother with the
checrless tidings, convinced of her DEATH
Not so with her. She felt satisfied that her
Frances still lived and would not listen to any
other snpposition. At length her long cherish,
ca nope seemed about to realized; a woman was
found among the Indians, who had been car
ricd away when child from the Susouehanna
and she was sent for bv Mrs S!ocum who cher
lshed her and endeavored to feel that her chic
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