Mineral Point tribune. (Mineral Point, Wis.) 1869-1938, 1889-02-28
..she looked at me with such miserable

eyes.
"'Good-bye, good mother Turia love
you plenty, but she never see you any
more.
Il turned away quickly, for l could
not bear to see the physical pain she must
suffer in the moving and saw shortly af-
forwards the litter borne off, followed
closely by Hopiana and most Of his peo-
pie.
II found your uncle, who had dotted
his clerical coat, preparing to share Air.
BurtOn's labors.
ION, James, cried, in disappoint-
ed tone, are you not tired enough? |
thought YOU would come back with me. >
4 want 20 get my body tired-it viii
rest my mind, he replied. But do you
20 home; YOU look worn out. / will
come and put you on your horse.
Is Rawidi working l asked, as
took the bride. i do not see him.
.'sN0r do !, ne answered. i suppose
the poor fellow is fighting out his bitter
fight alone.
Il rode of with my husbands words
ringing in my ars-'iignting out his
bitter fight alone. Poor soul, poor soul
1T was some months after this that
your uncle. coming home one evening
told me that he had just heard news OF
Turia.
at seemed that she had found means
Of arranging another flight with her
husband, and they had been for some
time living on the island called Table
Island, which was at some little distance
from the mainland. Some Maoris in 9
canoe had, in passing the island, seen
smoke rising above the trees, which sur.
prised them not a little, as it was wei
known to be too damp and moist to cul.
tivate, and therefore was not inhabited
indeed the MaOris say that only few
years back there was no island at all
there, but that what they had supposed
to be a sand-bank had gradually risen till
it was several feet above the water and
half covered with trees. all Of one height,
hence the name Table Island. They had
padded over and landed, md there found
Rawidi and his wife.
'He had built her cosy little hut in
the middle of the island, which was
much drier than the land near the banks.
They had quite a little plantation, and
quantities Of dried fish; and there they
had been living most happily. He, poor
fellow, was given back to slavery, and
she was taken to her inhuman old
father, who had threatened that if ever
she tried to run away again he would kill
her.
Il heard nothing more of my poor lit
tie friend for ten months; then quite ac-
Cidentally | heard there was to be a fun
eral-feast at Oraki. / asked a Maori man
who came TO the house to borrow some
thing for the event who was dead. He
seemed surprised that / did not know;
and then to my horror heard that it was
nv Door Turia.
1.-THE circumstances Of her death were
very sad. 1t appeared that for months
her father had kept her kind Of prison
er, and she had had no chance of sending
word to or hearing from Rawidi. At
last they had managed TO communicate
and they determined to swim across to a
place called Rangltoto, which is neither
more nor less than an extinct volcano
all rough scori@, with not a tree TO be
seen, and rising sheer up from the water.
Ii is situated at the outside of the har-
Dor. Their idea had evidently been that
some vessel leaving the port might take
them of and away into freedom. They
would first have to swim from Oraki to
North Shore, a distance of three miles,
then from the North Shore to Rangitoto,
where would lie the real danger of the
undertaking. The channel was not wide,
but that very fact made the current
dreadfully strong. Rawidi, who was to
go the day before Turia. succeeded in get.
ting over in safety. Poor Turia too got
as far as North Shore with all her most
cherished possessions strapped to her
shoulders; but, in leaving for the last
and most dangerous part of her journey,
she made a fatal mistake, aud started
opposite to the place where she wished
to land. instead of allowing for the cur
rent, which took the poor girl out to sea.
Parts of her clothing were afterwards
found along the coast, as she had no
doubt lightened her bundle when she
found that she was being swept away;
and amongst other things wa my shawl.
Il often used to picture to myself her
frantic struggles as she saw love and hope
fading from her sight, and felt the pitt
less sea dragging her down 10 eternity,
and the poor fellow waiting, hoping, and
counting the moments till he might ex-
pect her. The hope, anxiety, and at last
despair, which each in turn took possess
sion of his mind eliminated at length in
insanity.
ooh, poor, poor fellow!' cried Mile,
the tears from her eyes dropping on to
her work, which lay UNDECIDED in her
lap. And did Turias father take care
Of him: I'm sure he ought-the old
wretch
mo, dear. Some fishermen found him
two or three days afterwards; he was
quite mad. hut very gentle. He told
them that Turia was coming, that he
was waiting for her. and he was guard
ing most jealously a small quantity of
maize that lie had brought ON his shout
iers for them to live on. He appeared
to have eaten nothing all that time, He
came away with them very willingly
when they told him that Tur.a was not
coming-that she thought the distance
was too great--assenting eagerly saying
Yes, yes, too strong! Very good
she not come!
Did he ever come to see YOU after
wards, auntie;' Mile asked, after q
pause
Eyes, dear. often. He used to look
most peculiar, with lot Of long straws
stuck all over his head; and he always
carried a small bundle of maize with
him; and they said he would starve rath.
er than touch it, He was ALWAYS wait