The Cecil Whig. [volume] (Elkton, Md.) 1841-current, 1891-05-16

Sio Nh my SoId diiu P''ooNHS III D
the General Scott, was wrecked or
a still smaller island not far off.
The wreckers and others saw the
woman not intrequently now. And
the story went about that the little
pyramid of rocks was gradually
growing higher, and the lone and
desolate figure that mounted it,
taller and taller, as time went by.
Finally the American spirit could
endure this idea of lone and endless
captivity no longer. Two men from
Boston and some others from know
not where, hired a small ship and
sailed straight for the relief of the
poor desolate prisoner. She stood
high and lone on the heap of stones
and waited their coming.
And what could have been her
thoughts? Would they, too, pass
on and away to the left and to the
right as a thousand other ships had
passed. Would they come to her
Could they Gomez And what if they
should come? Would they devour
her, as the wild dogs that gathered
about her were waiting to devour
her? Landing without trouble, for
the ocean is still and restful as a
rule, they walked away over the sea
birds eggs and through the swarms
of seal straight up toward the
feather clad figure on the high heap
OF stones. 1t did not attempt to run
away.
And here is the grimmest and
most pathetic part OF 1t all she
could not run away without danger
of beng devoured by the horde Of
wild dogs that literally sat in circle
around her, waiting, watching for
her to come down.
She had been years building her
little fortress, and she had built It
with all the care and skill of a
trained engineer. Here was stone
house for her provisions there a
cell for water, and here one worn
and crooked pass where she could
possibly beat back the dogs with her
club as long as she had strength.
But when strength failed her? She
had not been unmindful OF failing
strength in the end, however, and Sc
had built a little tower on top,
where she could at last lie down and
die.
One OF the resculng party told
me that she surely could have held
out but little time longer.
Strange as it may seem, she
laughed at the pity offered her. She
would not come down to them, but
when they came up into her little re-
treat she laughed outright and hid
her face in he. rich robe OF feathers.
In fact, as the man told me, she
laughed almost continually, perhaps
the poor creatures only form of ex-
preston. For of course she could
not understand one word that any
one spoke to her. And one of the
interesting things about it all is
when they got to Santa Barbara not
one of her tribe was left alive to
talk to her.
DR.. Brinkerhoff, who was then
the principal citizen of Santa Bar
bara, and whose widow is still there
to verify all that has been said, told
me that he took her from the boat
himself when the party got back
from the island with her, and that
she began to laugh as soon as he
took hold of her hand to help her
ashore. And he further told me that
as he walked up town with her to.
wards his house they met a man in
the street on horseback, and that on
the sight of this man on horseback
she sat flat down in the dust and
laughed and laughed as if she could
never stop laughing.
Of course, the strange story and
the news of the rescuing from the
island soon spread all over the
world. Barnum sent man all the
way from his Bridgeport home to
secure her for his greatest show on
earth," and the state OF California
promised to make ample provision
for her comfort and well-being al
home.
But before Barnum's agent ar
rived, or the poor little laughing
creature had fairly ceased to laugh
at sight of the first horse she had
ever seen, she fell i'll.
All was done by the good people
of Santa Barbara that could possibly
be done. She had the best of care,
and certainly the best of physicians
attended her. But she rapidly de-
clined, and one day while sitting on
the grass eating a piece of water
melon she suddenly turned her face
away to her island, looked mo-
ment. and then sank down on the
grass, dead
They found great many fish,
hooks hidden away in her new
clothes and also a number Of
needles, for fsh-hooks and needles
were the wonder and the delight of
her heart, and this gave rise to the
idea that she was getting ready to
swim back to her island. But Dir
Brinkerhog assured me that she was
perfectly content in Santa Barbara
and had no idea of running away.
He said, with reason, that it was
but natural that she should, after
her long enforced habit of boarding