The weekly Shasta courier., 1873-11-08

every thing. fell prone in the dust at my
doorway, and remained there till Charley
came.
He has told me of the horror that appalled,
him when he found me senseless and his baby
gone For three days he was kept upon
this terrible rack of suspense, only when |
reganed consciousness to be plunged in
deeper and more overwhelming grief
For I refused to be comforted!
What endure life with this terrible
agony soaring into my brain! l could far
better have resigned him to death and the
grave. might with a bursting heart have
given him into the arms of the gracious and
bountiful Saviour but to think of him as
the prey of this swarthy fend to imagine
him in the power of this monster! The
thought was uncomfortable. The sooner
was a maniac the better.
They hunted for him far and wide, sending
hither and thither, upon this trail and that.
Charley remained by my bedside torn with
conflicting agony.
1t was season OF horror and despair. A
month elapsed, and I was sinking into a
rapid decline. Mamma was on her way out
to me, but felt she would never see me
this late hour to live, but my health, already
shattered, had received terrible shock.
| Nothing but a miracle could save me.
lay day after day in an apathetic stupor,
from which they feared to arouse me lest it
should turn to frenzy.
Let me see if can recall that soft beau
tiful eventide; the very air was laden with
balm and healing A gentle wind stirred
the broad leaves of gourd vine had plant
ed in the early spring.
An overwhelming sense of my unworthi-
ness assailed me. 1t seemed as if the spirit
of God had touched my heart and filled it
with premonition of something sweet and
holy and infinitely merciful If 1 were in
deed destined to die then and there, | could
at least be perhaps forgiven. Charley"
said, striving to reach his bowed and grief
stricken head" Charley, l have been a
wicked, hardened, rebellious creature. have
sinned against God and against you. Ihave
dared to doubt His wisdom and mercy.
Charley, the good God has taken care of
our little one; somewhere his little bones
lie bleaching but, dearest and best, our
baby is with the blessed Saviour"
And you will liver" said Charley, i'm
ploringly.
"Ah, love-" l answered, that, think, is
impossible"
lie bent his head again and strong trem-
or shook his Frame
Suddenly thought heard faint foot
fall. 1t was like the ghost of vanished
memory, but it stirred host of emotions
about my heart. The string was pulled, the
latch moved. Yes, it was, indeed, oh, it
acds my pretty sad young Indian squaw.
Her blanket dirtier than ever, hung loosely
about her; in the pouch at her back nestled
her baby. She glided in her old noiseless
way to her familiar nook by the fire, look
ing upon me with singular wild yearning.
Chickaminny, papoosey, shake" said the
plaintive musical voice.
| burst into a torrent of merciful tears.
For the first time the fountains of my
heart were unsealed. | stretched forth to
her my hands.
She said again. sadly and trembling,
Chickaminny, papoosey, shake" and took
from the pouch in the blanket a child a
child, sadly thin and hunger-stricken and
oppressed with dirty swathes of unsavory
linen; but his eyes were large and beautiful,
and his hair shone golden in the light of the
setting sun, and his mouth was like that of
the young god of love. The sight of him
sent such tide of joy to my heart that
gasped for breath, and thought it must end
in death f; but ] got him in my arms. hug
ged to my heart-my boy, my Malcolm
| Thanks to the good and gracious God in
heaven, he was mine again! He was ill, and
she had brought him to ME to cure, the
poor, pretty, gentle savage! We doctored
each other, my boy and I, with the great
medicine of love.
Charley washed him from head to foot,
and bade him go to the big wooden trunk
for his little toilet, his dear little embroider-
ed gowns that never thought would be
disturbed again. Then. strong with the
delirium of happiness, I few from my bed +;
got down on my knees and embraced the
feet of that Indian woman. Charley took
the watch out of his pocket, motioning to
her to hear it tick, and placed it in her hand,
all the time raining tears down on her coarse
black hair. gave her the very orange
blossoms was married in, and pretty
pearl necklace all in filligree of gold.
She remained in her old gentle dignnito,
quite silent and calm, then glided to the
door. "You will come again tomorrow?
| said yearningly stretching out to her my
happy hands. Her lips quivered family
she looked at us all, baby, Charley and me,
then went away quickly, without a gesture
or murmur-vanlshed into the soft, black
infinite night. f.
"She will come again tomorrow" | said
turning to my baby.
''Pll get her the handsomest blanket her
big eyes ever saw" said Charley. "If she
was trife clean, she wouldn't be a bad
looking womanl"
But although more treasures awaited her
than any Indian pony could carry, she never
came again.
God knows the mystery or the sequel OF
it all. We only waited for mamma to come
and for baby and myself to get strong, then
we went back to my old home in the East
l had many little babies after that, but
never one like Malcolm. Charley made a
fortune, and still goes to and fro, West
and East. The railroad makes it handy,
suppose, but [ never had any desire to
travel.
Oh, yes, was going to say something
about the Indian question. Well, certain
ly think those great iendish Indian mon
sters should be punished; but it is best to
treat with tenderest care the gentle, melan-
choly squaws and maybe it would be better
to not be too cruel with the men, because
of the women; and, in fact, | suppose we
must do the best we can, considering every
thing. Charley says the whole trouble arose
from my scrupIes about whisky. He says
an Indian seldom wants any thing to eat,
but always is very thirsty.
| I uonId sfrnnnlu adxrlsa thoso MON man,