Pullman herald. [volume] (Pullman, W.T. [Wash.]) 1888-1989, 1893-01-13
The DEATH OF LITTLE LUE.
A Heart Capable of Intense Suffering Is
Within Many a ROUGH Exterior.

L a Heart Capable OF Ahbehae SuhO''HS -
Within Many a Rough Exterior.
Our ghostly, white topped wagons
had rounded into camp near Kingtisher;
the sun had set and there was golden
blush on the western sky-ahi | remem-
Der the scene well-as we all gathered
around old Gunderson, who sat on the
prairie with his head bowed and his
struggling gray hair falling over child
Ish face and minglinS with curls that
seemed like spun gold. He held his
daughter in his arms and at every faint
respiration the old mans sinewy hands
clutched convulsively as though he re-
allied how vain was all his strength to
save his child
We were boomers, and all the way
from Caldwell little Lue had been all
ing. Her face grew paler and her cheeks
flushed brighter crimson day by day.
She could not support herself toward
the last, and one of the boys drove old
Gunderson's wagon while he sat behind
and held the girl in his arms.
All through the lonely Cherokee strip
what torture must that wretched father
have borne, sleeplessly watching his dy-
ing child! And the heaps and heaps Of
white bones that bleached and decayed
beside the trail-what ominous remind
ers of death must they have been to old
Gunderson!
"How is she, Gunderson" asked some
one in a whisper.
He turned his blodshot eye upward
for moment, and his face, pinched and
drawn with grief, was mute answer to
the words.
"Fatherl" The sound was just audi
BILE and little Lue's eyelids raised slowly.
"What is it, dearie?" asked the old
man, pressing his bearded lips to the
child's.
al had such beautiful dream, father.
1t was night, it seemed like, and all at
once a great big star fell from up there
and hung in the sky just over my head.
Then l heard mothers voice-Oh, SO
sweet and sadl and she said, Come,
dearie; kiss your father and come to
me-"
Little Lue's words became inaudible
after this, and she sank down YEARLY
In her fathers arms. We all stood sad
ly by and saw the child at last lift her
self with a quick effort and put both
arms about her fathers neck. Then she
kissed him, and murmuring, 81 am SO
tired" she again lay quietly on old Gun
derson's breast.
Slowly rocking to and fro the old man
kept his eyes on her face and never once
removed them. Then we drifted away
one by one and attended to our camp
duties with heavy hearts. 1t was not
long till some one came and said to me-:
"Ben, little Lue is dead and old Gum
derson doesn't know itp'
walked back to the old man where
he sat still rocking his burden, and one
glance at the child's face proved that she
had passed away.
"Gunderson," l said huskily, "little
Lue is gone"
He looked at me vacantly moment;
then with a start he peered into his
child's face. He realized the truth, laid
the dead child down and dashed off into
the night with cry of anguish.
There is rude grave on the prairie,
Just at the border of what was once the
Cheyenne and Arapahoe reservation,
and a clumsy headstone marks the spot,
sacred to the memory of little Lue and
her father-for we found old Gunderson
dead the next morning, killed by his
own hand.-Detroit Free Press.