Yorkville enquirer. [volume] (Yorkville, S.C.) 1855-2006, 1876-09-14

81 will talk to you about that presently"
said Mr.. Carleton, "and you must listen to
what I say, for you know I am minister sent
by our Great Spirit in the sky to speak words
of truth to all men who will receive them. l
will teach you what you can do, to judge right
ly of all the acts of your life, and make atone
ment for whatever you have done wrong for
we all do wrong sometimes, even the best Of
US. But first wish to ask you a question
about this child. Do you know what is her
name% .a5 .:@.f. ....--h'. s. ..-f" ...
ayes" said the Indian, "it is that I would
tell you, for it may be that you know her peo-
pie, or can find them, to give her rback, if there
be any Of them living. Her name is soft
one, softer than those of the children of our
race-it is Leila" ,,.. :..a. ..- .a,a"..:
- "Leila-but her other, her last name. Do
you know that also ?" .'.
"H"I do not remember it; but have kept it
it is written down, in q trinket she had upon
her neck. Will you fetch me my pouch that
hangs yonder on the wall p .: e..
Mr.. Carleton complied with the request,
and the Indian, fumbling with weak hands
at the article in question, presently drew from
its interior little gold locket, much tarnish-
ed with age, attached to a slender gold chain.
=. "Open it," he said, handing it to the mis-
sionary, "and read inside" ..-,...2
Mr.. Carleton eagerly touched the spring.
The locket opened, and disclosed on one side
mingled braid of hair, black and light
brown-the hair of Edward Graham and his
wifs-and on the other, clearly inscribed, q
name and date-"Leila Graham, Oct. 9th,
18-." ..s,., .....: .....;. - ...;.l. .'.'
"This is, indeed, tangible proofw cried the
clergyman with unwonted excitement in his
usually calm tones. "What will you say
when I tell you that I do know one of this
child's own people-her cousin, who has late
ly come to this part of the world to try and
get some tidings of her, and of the party who
brought her out ?"
"Is that truly so?" said the Indian, with a
keen glance "Well-so much the better.
When die, she will be cared for-she will be
taught too" he added with touch of mex
pressible bitterness, ito forget Oconosh, and
all he has done for her, and to despise the
people Of his race"
"That I am sure she will moi" said Mr..
Carleton, gently, "and even if she we're, her
own good heart will keep her affection for
your memory warm" ... .aa..t. ~.
To this the old chief made no reply, but
turning his face to the wall he lay for some
moments quite still, with his hand over his
eyes. Mr.. Carleton would not disturb him,
but watched him in plying silence, until at
length, of his own accord, he spoke again.
"Will you call Manitara to me now? I
would speak few words to her, and bless her
ere the Great Spirit calls me away"
II will call her for you, directly" replied
Mr.. Carleton, "but first listen to me, while I
make prayer to the Great Spirit for you,
and for her too. We will ask Him to bless
her and uii- Of us; that wnsH uIs We may
all meet and be happy in another world"
He knelt beside the dying man, and in SIM
pie and fervent language offered petition
suitable to his comprehension-such petition
as he was in the habit of uttering aloud by
many deathbed clouded with the shades OF
ignorance and superstition. Oconosh inter-
rupted it by no movement. He lay with bis
eyes steadfastly fixed on the opposite wall,
and stirred not 6ng ger until it was ended.
Then he said-not impatiently, but rather
with resumption of the stolid composure of
manner which his late conversation with the
missionary had shaken
II shall not be here long now. My heart
is growing cold, and my pulse beats slower
and slower yet. Call Manitara for me, that
may look upon her face once more"
The missionary saw that his last hour was
indeed at hand; and he hastily left the room
to seek the young girl, whom he supposed to
be waiting outside. To his surprise, however,
she was no where to be seen and although
he called her several times by name, and
even went some distance from the cabin to
search for her, he was forced to abandon his
quest, and to return without her to the dying
man, whom he was unwilling to leave longer
alone. Already, when he resumed his post
by the bedside, the film of death was creeping
over the eyes of the Indian, and his senses
appeared to be sinking into torpor from
which it was not likely they would ever
awaken again.