The Republican. [volume] (Oakland, Md.) 1877-current, 1883-10-06
THE WHITE SOUAW.


Mrs. Carthorne had lived in New Ulm
three years, and had been happy every
hour of that time She had been mar
ried six years, and, had she been asked,
she would have declared that since her
wedding-day she had never known what
it was to be sad or unhappy.
One morning she stood with her baby
in her arms watching her husband start
for his Office. just as he was about to
turn the corner which would hide him
from those loving, watching eyes, be
looked back and kissed his hand.
The fair young wife, standing in
the sunny doorway, returned the
salute and then made the baby
put his wee, dimple fingers to his
rosy mouth and make an ambiguous
gesture towards his father. With a
smile upon his lips and humming to him
self, the husband went his way. Toss
ing her growing babe, the wife re-entered
her home. No ominous foreboding
warned Edward Carthorne that he had
looked upon his wife's face for
the last time. Little did that happy
woman think what suferings worse
than death she would pass through ere
she looked again upon that dear face
which had Just passed from view, smil-
ing on her to the last. ...... ...
Two hours passed away-the last
happy hours she ever knew. Her little
boy was playing with his blocks upon
the floor by her side. Her baby had
fallen asleep in her arms. The door
opened behind her.
Don't wake the baby" she half
said, half sang, as she rocked, think
ing the intruder was the servant
''UghE' said a cultural voice at her
shoulder The boy at her side gave a
scream and clutched his mother. She
sprang to her feet and confronted tall.
sinister-looking Indian. Even in that
awful moment she saw a scalp of fair,
flowing woman's hair at his belt, and
noted that his copper-colored skin was
hideously daubed, with war-paint She
turned very pale, and, putting one hand
down to her oldest child, held him close
to her side while she strained her babe
to her breast. But she spoke no word.
The next instant the room seemed full
of the red tiends. She never changed
her first position, never uttered sound.
She felt as if she were frozen with hor-
ror. Her boy was torn from her side,
and at the same moment one of the
Indians clutched the babe. She saw
the uplifted tomahawk sink into the
head of her eldest born, and vet at the
same moment she was wrestling with a
huge Indian for the life of her infant.
A half dozen tomahawks flashed up
ward. She thought her hour was come,
and closed her eyes. The Indian who
had first entered said something in his
cultural tongue. They all assented in
chorus, and one of them went out, re-
appearing soon with rope. They tied
it about her, and, leading her as if she
were some animal destined for slaugh-
ter, they passed the mutilated corpse of
her eldest child, and so out into the
road. There they made halt. Some
of them returned to the house. 1t was
not until some time after that, looking
back from q distance and seeing her
dear old home in flames, she knew why
half the party fingered.
They placed her upon a horse. One
OF the Indians who had hitherto held
the end of the rope in his hand now
tied it about him and leaped upon his
Indian pony. 1t was no easy work TO
hold her babe and guide her horse, but,
bewildered and agonized as she was, she
felt that it would not do to attract at
tention to her dear burden. .,r..
In this manner. she left the happy
home where she had so long lived. She
had been SO enriched by love that she
had not dreamed death or danger could
enter the charmed sphere Within
that blazing house where now was
burning the corpse of her murdered
son, her youngest child had been born.
There, slowly consuming, were all the
household treasures which she and her
husband had collected with such pleas
ure and self-denial. Where now was
her husband? She turned her head and
beheld the village she had left a scene
OF riot and carnage. Dwelling-houses
IN flames, women and children fleeing
for their lives, men murdered without
the means of resistance. A conviction
that so had her husband met his fate
stabbed her heart like dagger. All,
If they could but have died together
Knowing to what atrocious cruelties the
Indians subjected their prisoners, Mrs.
Carthorne prayed rather for the death of
her husband than his capture. For
what she herself was reserved she
trembled to think. Had she possessed
the means of counting death it seemed
to her that in that hour she would have
courage to release herself and her
child.
That night the babe moaned and
cried constantly. When they were
about to mount their horses in the
morning one of the Indians spoke to
his companions and they both glanced
toward her. She felt that they were
talking of her and her last living child.
and she strained it to her breast. The
two Indians whose conversation had so
alarmed her then separated without be-
traying any hostile intention. In few
moments the Chief, who had been en-
gaged in saddling her pony, motioned
her torise and mount. tAs she gained
her feet her arms were suddenly seized
from behind; SO forcible was the grasp