Delaware inquirer. (Wilmington, Del.) 1859-18??, 1859-12-31
n n : o q n
A FEMALE ORUSOE.

from Point San Pedro, which is i'll thu
latitude of 800 49, ~, and longitude 1ls'
IA W., will be found small island, called
by the Spaniards Saint Nicholas. The
island was formerly inhabited by an mot
fensive, indolent race of Indians, who sub
sisted almost entirely upon fish, which they
caught from the rocks and muscles, which
they found in the sands of the beach,
They were listless, quiet race of beings
who seldom had communication with 9th
ers of the human family, and who had but
few wants aud fewer cares.
About the year eighteen hundred and
eighteen or twenty, the Russians, from their
settlements at the North, landed on this
island party of Kodiac Indians, for the
purpose Of hunting the sea otter, which, at
that period, abounded in those waters
This party remained on the island for more
than two years, and were the means Of SOW
ing the seeds of disease and contention
amongst its unsuspecting and unsophisti-
Gated inhabitants
Some ten or twelve years after the de-
parture of the Kodiacs, this tribe had be-
come diminished to about twenty or thirty
individuals, when the Governor of the de
partment of California sent over a small
vessel and removed them to the main.
In the last boat, which was embarking
with the last of this people, (some six or
eight, perhaps, in NUMBER to convey them
to the vessel, which was to carry them from
the home Of their nativity forever, was one
of the tribe, small in stature, not far adj
vanced in years, and his dusky mate, then
in the bloom of life. The order had been
given to shove from the shore; the oars
had been dipped in the wave the boat was
rising on the foaming surf, then breaking
on the beach with awful roar, when, with
the impulse of the moment as it were, this
young and blooming bride Of the red man,
the imprint of whose footstep had been the
last left on the sands of her island home,
waved an adieu to her chosen mate, plung-
ed into the abyss, stroye through the
SURGE" and,in another moment, stood alone
on the shores of her native land. She
turned, to give the last lingering look to
her departing helpmate; and then, gather
ing around her form her flowing mantle,
wet by the ocean wave, in an instant dis
appeared forever from the sight of her as
tonished and sorrowing companions.
The vessel weighed anchor, spread her
canvass and, in forty-eight hours, this
remnant of the inhabitants of San Nicholas
were landed on Point San Pedro, houseless
and forlorn.
From that period to the present-if she
be not dead, or has not left within the past
eighteen months-has resided alone, on the
Isle of San Nicholas, this female Crusoe,
the monarch of all she surveys. She pre-
ferred to part even with her chosen mate,
and sever every human tie that could be
binding, rather than leave the home Of her
birth--that lonely little isle, that had been
to her world, which she cared not to ex-
change for the abode of civilized man, with
all its promised luxuries.
Since our Crusoe became the sole mon
arch of the isle, San Nicholas has been
visited perhaps ten or twelve different times
by different individuals but there she has
continued to be found, with none to dis
pute her right-alone, solitary and forsaken.
Her dress, or covering, is composed Of
the skins of small birds, which she kills
with stones, and sews them together with
a needle Of bone and the light sinews of
the hair seal, sometimes found dead among
the rocks. Her only food is shell fish,
of the muscle species, with now and then
a still smaller fish, which the surf some
times throws on the beach. She never re-
mains long in one spot, but is constantly
wandering around the shores of the island,
sleeping-which she seldom does-in small
caves and crevices in the rocks.
During the last few years, it has been
very difficult to obtain any communication
with her. At the approach of the white
man she fees, as from an evil spirit and
the only way to detain her, is by running
her down, as you would the wild goat of
the mountain, or the young fawn of the
plains. Those who have seen her at the
latest period report that she appears to have
lost all knowledge of language; that she
makes only wild noise, altogether inhu-
man and, when taken and detained against
her will, becomes frightened and restless;
that the moment she is liberated, she darts
off, and endeavors to secrete herself in the
wild grass, or amongst the rocks which
hang over the never-ceasing surf.
Every endeavor has been made, and eve
ry inducement offered by differentindiyidu-
ais, to prevail upon her to leave the island,
but in vain. The only home she appears
to desire, is her own little isle. Her last
hope, If she has any, is to finish her jour
new alone. She has no wish now to hear
again the sweet music Of speech. Its sounds
are no longer music to her ear-and as for
civilized man, his tamcness is shocking
even to her dormant senses.
To all appearance, she is strong, healthy,
and content to be alone. What can re-
concile her to her lot, who can conjecture!
Humanity may hope that contentment may
continue to be hers to the last hour; for
she is destined to lie down and die alone,
on the cold shore of her isolated home, with
no one to administer to her last wants, and
none to cover her cold body when the
spirit shall have left the clay.
But the story Of our Crusoe's chosen
mate, the companion of her early life, has
vet to be told He saw her for the last
time, as we have stated, when she stood
alone on the shores Of her own isle; when
the boat with himself and his companions
was dashing through the wild surf that
broke in uninterrupted succession against
the rocks which encrcled the resting place
of his fathers, and which he was then leav-
ing forever. With the remnant Of the
family from San Nicholas our hero was