Alpena weekly argus. [volume] (Alpena, Mich.) 1871-1893, 1884-02-13

read no more on the tablet. She was
not even certain of that one word. She
searched upon the ground and found
two pieces of bark. BY rubbing these
together she finally set fire to pile of
dead oak-leaves she had collected. She
then took blazing stick and returned
to the monument.
To the Memory
Laura,
wife of Richard Carthorne,
and their children,
Gcrvaysc and Arthur,
Captured and Massacred by inc Indians.
And then followed the date.
Her husband believed to a certainty
that she was dead! Why had he been
so ready to believe? She had never de-
clared to herself that he was no more
in this world, though she had feared it
much. A chill sense of being shut out
from the world, a ghastly feeling of un-
reality crept over her. Was she, then,
coming back to her husband like one
raised from the deadp Would her re-
turn inspire more awe than raptureP
She thought of all this crouching in the
snow beside the monument The lighted
stick had gone out and dropped un-
needed from her hand. Shivering, tired,
hungry and disheartened she wrapped
herself in her blanket and sank to sleep
beside her own gravestone.
The bright morning sun shining full
in her face awoke her. For one mo-
ment she was bewildered, not remem-
bering the past and suddenly finding
herself in SO strange a locality. The
sight of her own name recalled her
ha hoe l.
walk to the village. The yellow sun
light flooded the white ground. The
crisp snow cracked under her tread.
Some birds were twittering to each
other from the bare bushes and trees.
The heaven was a fathomless blue with
fragile white clouds drifting slowly
through its dome. All these things APP
pealed to her as they appeal only to
those who have lived In close COM
munion with Nature. Her depressed
spirits rose and she went hopefully on
her way.
Her husband was but little distance
away from her. She was returning to
fill his desolate life with light and Joy.
They would mourn together over Nie
loss of their children. Sympathy
would take the sting out of all their
sorrows. Once more they would unite
their energies and make home for
themselves, gather about them objects
sacred from association, and part in
the morning only to await a reunion at
the close Of the day. All, that last
parting! She remembered his face as
he turned the corner and disappeared.
Would he look the same nowp That
was nearly five years ago.
Suddenly she stopped and looked
down at herself, her moccasined feet,
her tattered blanket, her long black
hair, her stained, brown hands. An
awful fear swept over her like a keen
cold blast. What will he say? | look
like an Indian she whispered.
For one moment she hesitated in her
course. Impossible visions of waiting
and reappearing before her husband in
civilized dress flashing through her
mind. The next moment the hopeless
ness of any such project became ap-
parent to her. She had no money to
buy clothing. She would tell her story
first to her husband and her appear
ance should prove what suffering she
had endured. She resumed her journey,
but with less alacrity. She could not
forget the impression she would make
upon her long-separated husband. She
tried TO rid herself of the idea, but it
returned again and again, and she
brooded over it,
The places of business were just
opening rs she entered the town. Some
shop-boys taking down the shutters,
and seeing an Indian woman go past,
laughed and called after her. She
wished to ask some one the way to her
husbands home, but she met no one
whom she dared to accost. At last
one, round-faced, rosy-cheeked, with n
basket on his arm, won her confidence.
She asked him TO show her the way to
Mr. Carthorne's.
Come to the corner and I'll show
YOU" he said, brightly. After mo-
ment's silence he began again. "How
well you talk English looking up in
her face. Receiving no reply, he
seemed subdued, and when they
reached the corner pointed out her way
and took himself of without delay.
Now that she was almost within sight
of her husbands home her hea; began
to fail her. She regretted that she haa
not asked the boy about him. When
she came in view of the house she grew
so faint that she was fain to sit down
upon a stump by the sidewalk and
gather courage. So she sat watching
the house, and debating how she should
announce to her husband what would to
him seem like a resurrection from the
dead. While she sat thus in strange
tumult of hope and fear the door of the
house she watched opened and gen.
tleman came out Four years had not
altered him much. He was still young
and fne-looking. She knew him in
stantly, for it was her husband.
He was not alone. A lady young and
fair was walking at his right, and a
pretty little girl chung to his left hand.
For moment or two the poor returned
wife saw only her husband. All her
sorrow, her despair was held in abey-
ance one little, blissful space.
"He is laughing was her first
thought; she Is not thinking of me"
She continued to watch them as he
lifted the toddling child in his arms.
ale used so to carry little Arty. |
wonder il he is thinking of that now,"
she whispered.
1t was about the distance of IA block
from the house to where she sat. All
that distance she watched the happy
trio coming gayly along in the bright
winter sunshine. They reached the
corner near which she sat.
''Now kiss papa goodby," said the
gentleman. and then he put the child
in the lady's arms. He said some part
ing words in low voice, and, when he
had gone q few rods, turned and saw
his late companions watching him.
He kissed his hand to this woman just
as he had kissed it to her that last
morning. She felt the sting of that
one thought through all her pain.
The strange woman turning home
ward, saw for the first time the poor
Indian woman sitting on the stump by
the wayside.
"Sce the poor woman" she said,
TO the child. Perhaps she is hun
gry."
With that she came up to the sup
posed Indian.