Waterbury evening Democrat., 1904-11-18
CHAPTER I.


 8 George. This memory stands at
 the end of diminishing vista; {; the extreme point of coherent recol- lection. My body and muscular limbs reflected in the water filled me with savage pride.
 l knew, as the beast knows its herd, that my mother Marianne was hanging the pot over the fire pit in the center of our lodge. The children were play Ing with other papooses, and my father was hunting down the lake. The hunt ing and fishing were good, and we had plenty of meat. Skencdonk, whom considered a person belonging to my self, was stripping more slowly on the rock behind me. We were heated with wood ranging. Aboriginal life, prime val and vigor giving, lay behind me when plunged expecting to strike out under the delicious forest shadow.
 When came up the sun had van- ished, the woods and their shadow were gone. So were the Indian chill dren playing on the shore, and the shore with them. My mother Marianne might still be hanging her pot in the lodge. But all the hunting lodges of our people Sere as completely lost as If had entered another world.
 My head was bandaged. as discov- cred when turned 1t to look around. The walls were not the log walls of our lodge, chinked with moss and topped by bark roof. On the contrary, they were grander than the inside of St. Regis church, where I took my first communion, though that was built of stone. These walls were paneled. as l learned afterward to call that noble finishing, and ornamented with pic lures. and crystal sockets for candles The use of the crystal sockets was evil dent. for one shaded wax light burned near me. The ceiling was not composed of wooden beams like some Canadian houses, but divided itself into panels also, rehecting the light with dark rosy shining. Lace work finer than a priests white garments duttered at the windows. t had dived early in the afternoon, and it was night. Instead of finding myself still stripped for swimming, had loose robe around me. and GOV eriet drawn up to my armpits. The couch under me was by no means of hemlock twigs and skins, like our hunks at home, but soft and rich. I wondered if had died and gone to heaven. And just then the Virgin moved past my head and stood looking down at me. started to jump out of a window, but felt so little power to move that I only twitched and pre- tended to be asleep and watched her ns we sighted game, with eyes nearly one arm that sat up instead of leaning against her shoulder, and looked at me, too. The poppet had a cap on it's head and was dressed in lace. and she wore R white dress that let her neck and arms out, but covered her to. the ground. This was remarkable, as the Indian women covered their necks and arms and wore their petticoats short. I could see this image breathe, which was a marvel, and the color moving under her white skin. Her eyes seemed to go through you and search all the veins, sending shiver of pleasure uOWn your DECK.
 Now knew after the first start that she was living girl holding a living baby, and when my father, Thomas Williams, appeared at the door of the room, it was certain could not be in heaven. 1t came over me in flash that myself was changed. Tn spite of the bandages my head was as clear Rs if all it's faculties were washed and newly arranged. could look back Into my life and perceive things that I had only sensed as dumb brute. A fish thawed out after being frozen and reanimated through every spar kling scale and tremulous fin could not have felt its resurrection more keenly. My broken head gave me no trouble at all.
 The girl and baby disappeared as soon as saw my father. which was not surprising, for he could not be called prepossessing half breed. His lower lip protruded and hung sullenly. He had heavy brows and shaggy thatch of hair. Our St. Regis Iroquois kept to the buckskins, though they often had hunting shirts of fulled flannel. And my fathers buckskins were very dirty.
 A little man, that did not know was In the room. shuffied across the floor to keep my father from entering Around the base of his head he had thin curtain of hair scarcely reaching bis shoulders. His nose pointed up ward. It's tip was the shape of randle extinguisher. He wore horn spectacles and knee brooches. waist roat and cont of black like the ink which fades to brown in drying ink horn. He put his hands together and took them apart uncertainty. and shot put his lip and frowned. as if he had universal grudge and dared not tent it.
 He said something in language I lid not understand, and my father made no answer. Then he began kind of Anglo French. worse than the patois we used at St. Regis when we Sid not speak Iroquois. made out inc talk between the two. understand Ing each without hesitation. Y
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