Mansfield mirror. (Mansfield, Wright County, Mo.) 1908-1957, 1914-06-04

thoughts of me be good or evil. ! am
what | am; what birth and conditions
have made me. All l appeal to in you
is whatever of manhood you may still
retain. | tell you my story, because
you swear you know 1t not; then lis
ten. and you shall. No, do not move.
but hear me; | would not do this with,
out reason"
She glanced aside at Schultz, and
then into the red embers of the fire,
her eyes coming slowly back to rest
on my face.
Il I'm Rene D'Auvray, and my father
lies dead there in the next room. He
was all | had in the world, yet knew
little enough of him. He spoke seldom
Of his past life even to me. Still, 1
have much reason to believe that in
his younger days he was intimate at
the French court. I know he was a
soldier, an officer of the kings guard,
decorated for bravery. He never told
me why he was exiled to this land,
buried In the far wilderness, made a
companion of savages. l never asked,
although my heart ached to do SO, for
he was not a man to be questioned
lightly, and l early learned that the
very thought brought him pain. But
know this, for | saw a letter once, a
yellow, creased letter, which l think
he purposely mislaid hoping l would
see. He wanted me to know, yet had
not the heart to tell ME. 1t was from
a French comrade in arms, and there
was a crest on the paper, and a great
name signed. l wept as | read, for
the writer loved the man to whom he
told the story, and the words came
warm from his heart. Whatever else
you may know of us, Monsieur Jo-
seph Hayward, you have never known
this. 1t vas because of a lady my ia
Their loved, a relative of the king. For
her sake he fought the Prince de Mil
lier, and killed him in the royal gar.
den. 1t was a fair fight, but the king
saw 1t not so, for 1t disarranged his
plans, and my father had to flee
France to save his own life. Then was
he prescribed, a price set upon his
head"
She paused, and sank into a chair,
bowling her face upon the table. /
stood silent, unable to speak, the
sound of her voice still in my ears.
She looked up again, dashing her hand
across her eyes.
Il must be far more French than
Indian to become so weak" she ex-
planned, ashamed of the emotion. "'T
is the memory Of him lying yonder,
monsieur. with no word-no last word
for me. So 1t was he came to Amer.
lea, but they would not let him rest
in either Quebec or Montreal. They
drove him forth into the woods, into
the camps of Indians. He told me
once about those days; of how he
traversed the black waters of the Otta-
wa and met hardships on the great
lakes, his companions %voyageurs and
couriers des bois, his only means Of
support the furs he could send back
to Montreal. But he might not ven-
ture there himself. but was doomed
forever to a life beyond civilization.
His associations would have %brutalized
him, made him a fit denizen of those
wilds, turned him also into a savage,
but for one thing-he was a fervent
Catholic. 1t was this which kept him
ever gentle, sweet and strong. He
possessed the passion to save souls; |
he became an evangel to the Indians
among whom he lived. He was at
Mackinac and Green Bay; he told the
Pottawattomies Of Christ, but they
cast him out; he travelled to the vii |
lagos of the Illinois, but the Jesuits
were already there, and gave him no
welcome. At last he found a home
with the Wyandots. At first the task
was not easy, for they were a savage
people. They had tortured Jesuit
priests to the stake, and f1ogged the
Recollets who came also. But my ia.
Their won their confidence; he went
forth with them to battle; he went
with them against their enemies, and
80 they finally listened to what he
said. He became Wa-pa.tee.tah, the
white chief, and taught them of Christ
Jesus. They became Christians be-
cause they were proud of him. He ac-
what the priests could not
dc, and kept the tribe at peace with
the whites. The English came, and
hated him, for he would not enter into
their schemes, nor permit his people
to. Only once did he lead them to
war, against your General Clark at
Vincennes.