The Louisiana Democrat., 1886-03-03
BACK TO LEPER'S LAND.
A Daughter Overjoyed at Being
Sent "Home."


There is dreary, desolate region on
Bayou L, not very far from New
Orleans, which is summed and dreaded
by all men.
1t is not that the gray Spanish moss,
whose lugubrious festoons cover the
trees and hang their funereal banners to
the earth, seem to whisper to the slug
gish air: malaria! malaria
1t is not because of the fostering la
goons, with their green scum, broken
now and then by the flat, waving head
of water moccasin, nor yet for the
ugly swamp stretching back, with its
fantastic lines, like monstrous scrpents
twisting around the trees, and green,
ghastly light iiltering through the
densely-woven branches overhead and
playing on the brown water of the swamp
pools, like witch's dance of light and
shadow.
No; nature had done her part to make
that portion of Bayou L hideous,
but heavier curse rests upon it. 1t is
La terre des Lepreur Ueper's Land).
Many years ago the dreaded disease
appeared on one of the French colon
lists, shortly after Louisiana was settled.
He fled from his family and buried HIM
self in that wild region. His family
ioined him there, either because some
other member was stricken or from
devotion, and one by one sue
cumbed to the fatal plague. Mean
time other lepers had joined them, for
at one time there was a great many
cases among the foreigners, and Bayou
l. became common refuge for
those pariahs. They cultivated the
ground, and took into their wretched
lives such enjoyments as lay in their
power. They were not forgotten by the
charitable. Catholic priests visited
them at intervals, carrying the dona-
tions of the pious, and though mystery
enveloped the country of these hapless
beings, they were assisted whenever they
needed assistance.
One morning / was sitting on bench
in Jackson Square, when / saw coming
out of the cathedral the good priest,
Father Raymond, holding little girl by
the hand. They crossed the street, en-
tered the Square, and approached the
bronze equestrian figure of the great
General near which | was sitting. The
little girl, beautiful child she was,
about ten years old, was looking about
with grave, pre-occupied air, which
seemed strange in one SO young. Father
Raymond had been my friend from
childhood, and we were always happy
to meet, in spite of the difference in our
faiths.
What a lovely child that is, Father!"
said, when the first greeting was over.
"Who is she?'
Marie St. Cyr," he answered go,
then, ma petite, and look at the flowers
and trees. Thou wilt find me here
when thou art tired, and we will 60
homc.n
The child moved slowly off, not with
a buoyant, light step, but heavily. and
with evident reluctance
"She is not sick, is she?" l asked.
"She looks so blooming! / never saw
loveler creature, with those sunny
auburn curls, and those soft gray eyes,
with their long black 1ashes. She can
not be sick?"
The priest shook his head gravely.
"She is not sick now, but there is lit
tie of the child in that ten-year-old
maiden. You will understand me when
/ tell you she comes from 'Leper's S
Land. Her father was attacked by lep-
rosy five years ago, and his wife and
child followed him. Madame St. Cyr
has reason to believe that she has con-
tracted the disease, and, having no rela-
iives in this country, she has confided
the child to me. She wishes to give her
the only chance to escape; perfect isola-
ton from the lepers. She said to me;
"'it breaks my heart to part with my
darling, my only child; but we must give
her chance. Father. she must never
see us again, even in our death hour.
] may have to live long, long years
without her. for leprosy kills by slow
inches, but l bid farewell to her forever.
| think the death agony will be more
easily borne by the poor mother than
the separation from her child. She tried
hard to be brave, but it was pitiful
courage. The father-poor wretch
whose days are numbered. broke down
utterly He was afraid to touch his
child or caress her, for hands and face
are alike leprous, but he sank on his
knees and cried aloud amidst sobs:
30 ma petite, never to see thy sweet
face again! never to hear thy voice!
God help me to bear it, y
And poor Marie?" asked. How
did the child bear it?"
''She clung to her mother, screaming,
and refused to come. She can not un-
derstand why she is banished. She
knows, no one better, what a fearful
disease leprosy is, and that it will
soon kill her father, but she wants to
be at home. 1t seems to her worse than
death to be separated from her parents.
The st. Cyrs are people of education
and refinement, so their situation is the
more terrible on that account. They
have ample means, too. to provide for
Marie, and give her every advantage
of cducation.n
But do you think she will escape the
disease?" He shrugged his shoulders.
WHO knows? At least her only
chance WAS this Sonaratinn IT. ia NOT