The Cambria freeman. [volume] (Ebensburg, Pa.) 1867-1938, 1889-08-09
A "SQUATTER'S" FATE.
The Report Made by a Delegation
OF the Union League"

All night long the low summer wind
had famed the dewy grass, and stolen
with q subdued murmur around the
rude board structure that nestled ia
The high grass on a broad stretch Of
isvel prairie; and now A great lumi-
nous star which had risen from the
prairie sea and from q blue waste of
ky, shed its white rays down on the
world beneath.
As it rose higher in the heavens, its
feeble rays stole in at the open window
Of the settlers cabin and touched the
tangled cloud OF sunny hair that clus-
tered about the head Of a little girl Of
ten years-the only child OF Amos Lee,
the settler.
The fic.zering light OF n small kero-
scne lamp shed its feeble rays around
the room, revealing Il rude bed at one
end Of the apartment, on which lay the
form of man, his face flushed with
fever, his eyes wandering vacanuy
about the room.
Papa said the child, bending over
the sick man, ''yOu must have medi-
cine and n doctor-what must do?
What can / do?"
She clasped her little hands appeal
ingly, and q tear trickled down her
white, troubled face "Wateri waterr'
cried the sick man, gazing blankly
about him.
The child hurried to the other end
of the room, and fetching some water
in a tin cup, held it TO the sick mans
lips
He drank the water eagerly. and
sank back on his pillow, where he lay
quiet for some time. Then he opened
his eyes and murmured:
I've must go way from hyar-they
air talkin' Nv hangin' me if L stay
and mebby-mebby-w better be
movin', for they'll come again Hits
hard ter halter leave our own home
but-but -
His mutterings grew indistinct, and
he again closed his eyes.
'-Oh. papal my dear papar' cried the
child, mo one is going to hurt you-I
am here with you-shall | go for doc
tor? Oh. papai what must L do?' and
she buried her face in the bed clothes
and wept bitterly.
The father made no reply, save some
incoherent mutterings.
Presently the little girl arose and
wiped the tears from her eyes, look
of determination on her young face.
She then took a little straw hat from
a peg on the wall and placed it on her
head. She approached her father, and
bending over him, kissed his hot, fe
verish cheek
Papa" she murmured. her face
close TO his, II am going for doctor
be good and lie still till l come
back. I'll run all the way"
She then turned and went out into
the night, and ran swiftly down the
dim prairie road, her little bare feet
falling noiselessly upon the damp,
dewy ground.
The nearest village, Neutral City,
lay five miles away, across a stretch
of wild, unsettled prairie. Here the
only doctor in that part of the coun-
try resided, and towards this place
the little girl hurried. She knew the
road, having passed over it before in
the wagon with her father. 1T is
not long till daylight" she thought,
as sle nufEltu AOENd dIOs BAltAtAL4s
about her, as if expecting to see some
wild animal spring upon her from the
surrounding darkness Onward,
along the dim path, that lay across
the great stretch of prairie she fed,
while the big white star rose higher
and higher in the heavens; and the
dewy breath of night, laden with the
perfume of sleeping flowers, swayed
the long grasses and rocked the tops
Of the sumachs to and fro, as it stirred
their slender leaves into a tremulous
murmur.
The barking of coyote came from
afar across the prairie, and senta cold
chill of fear through the child's heart
she increased her pace, running swift
Iy along the narrow path, her breath
| coming fast and hard, the long we'
| grass swirling about her little bare
/ feet and ankles. Thoughts OF wilC
! animals that might be lurking in he
path filed her with a sickening fear
| but she must not turn back-the fac
of her sick father rose before her an
urged her on.
Every bush or shadow was construe
into a ferocious animal; and the sue
den croaking OF frog filed her wit
I q nameless terror.
Presently the road grew dim an