The Superior times. [volume] (Superior, Wis.) 1870-1912, 1877-06-02
Tor their mother-cows, but no little boy
and girl stood near them.


The words were screamed out as only
a frightened mother can scream. Echo
answered her, and then the silence was
unbroken.
A stream headed up into the prairie a
little further on, and beside it clustered
a young growth of cottonwoods. 1t was
her last hope, and with frantic steps she
ran there Mary's little sun-bonnet lay
on the bank, the strings stained with
strawberry juice, but where rested the
golden locks it had so often shaded?
The mothers limbs shook as with
spasms, her throat felt choked, her brain
whirled, the color went out from her
cheeks and the light from her eyes; she
sank upon the grass, feeling the weak
ness of death. 1t was dark before she
revived enough to realize truly her
whereabouts. And it was only after
many struggles that she at length rose
and tottered toward home.
The baby was screaming in his father ;
arms, and he, poor, weary man, as he now
paced the floor with the little wrestling
child, and then stood with it in the door
way, trying to peer out into the gather
ing shadows, wondered and wondered
again where his wife could have gone.
Something moved in the path between
him and the barn. 1t came nearer-it
assumed shape-it made light footsteps
it was her, his Mary.
What had happened, mother? What
ails you? Where are the children ?
Speak, Mary, for Heavens sake, and tell
me what has happened"
A sob, groan, and the falling of her
body on the floor were his only answer.
Willie-Mary-my children-lost-
lost on the wild prairie!'
In broken accents the words struggled
from her lips, as life returned to her.
Then, as her heart once more bounded
with strong, though uneven pulses, she
reused herself, and standing upright,
caught her husband by the arm, and told
him IN few brief, terse sentences the sad
story of the children's wanderings.
Leave me- am weak-sick-but |
shall live-live till / see them, orr
She shuddered and wrung her hands pas
sionately for moment. Then assuming
calmness, she said, firmly: "Take the
colt, William, and the lantern and the
COW bells and your gun. Go straight
down to the creek and raise all about
there, making all the noise you can.
Then, If you get no trace, ride over to
Nick's cabin and rouse them, and get
their old hOund-he was a great pet with
the she could only sob the word
" children. Take Mary another-sob
" bonnet, and, William, William, bring
them back to mer'
A single kiss was left on her white lips,
and the anxious father left her and
sprlnglng on to his half-broken colt, he
started. The prairie echoed to the
reverberations of his gun, to the noisy
tlnkIe OF the bells, to the echoes of his
voice, but no answering sound came up
out OF the still, grassy depths. Again
and again, he made the circuit of the lit
tie clump of cottonwoods, and then sadly
he turned away, and squirting his horse
INTO wild gallop, he started for the
nearest cabin. The four miles were soon
passed, and the sympathizing neighbors
aroused to aid his search.
Call the dog, Tom," said the father.
as he lifted his wife on to the horse, and
then sprung into the saddle.
" | have father, but l can't find him.
Was he here at supper, mother"
" | didn't mind, child. set down his
pan of bones, but | had a heap of chores
to do, and | didn't mind whether he
came up or not Run to the shed and
see, child"
" The bones amt been touched-where
can he be-"
Well, we mustn't stop for him. But,
Tom, when he does come, you show him
the bonnet. It'll start him." And Civ
ing the word to his horse he followed the
heart-broken father.
Leave me here" said good Mrs Bon
nett, as they halted at the creek. II can
find my way to the cabin if it is dark,
and I'll take good care of her, too. I'll
get her to take some of that cordial stuff
my doctor in Indiana used to make up
for folks what was nervous, and if can
once get her to sleep, I'll keep her so.
And with fleet steps she fastened to the
lonely home.
But it was only after much coaxing
that the mother was prevailed upon to
swallow the cordial and lie down, and
then 1t was more to crafty her neighbor
than from any faith in the virtues of the
medicine. But the result proved that it
had not been extolled too highly, for
her limbs soon ceased their convulsive
twitchings and her lips their low, sad
and ere the clock struck
twelve, she lay in a profound, sweet
sleep.
Luckily | thought to bring it along"
said Mrs. Bennett, lifting her head as
soon as the measured breathing of the
mother assured her she had forgotten her
troubles. Poor thing" And she bent
compassionately over her, and smoothed
back her disordered hair, my heart
aches for you"
"Tll fix the fire all ready to light,
and spread the table, so that | can get
supper ready in few minutes when