Page:Life amongst the Modocs- unwritten history (IA amongstthemodocs00millrich).pdf/414

400 What if this busy, searching, man-devouring press, which has compelled me to add to this narrative, or live and die misunderstood, should discover after all that this little lady is only the old Doctor's daughter sent down to the city in my care to be educated?

What will become of her? The poor little waif, when I look into her great wondering eyes, I fancy she is a little rabbit, startled and frightened from the forest into the clearing, where she knows not whether to return or bound forward., and so sits still and looks in wonderment around her. A little waif is she, blown like some strange bird from out the forest into a strange and uncertain land.

Will she succeed in the

new

scene

Poor

?

child,

the chances are against her. Only fancy yourself the last one of your race, compelled to seek out and

with another and not an over-friendly people. And then you would be always thinking in spite of

live

yourself; the heart would be full of memories soul would not take root in the new soil.

How feel

!

lost

Poor

and how little

lady,

voices of her childhood living

now

out

of

place

she will

any more.

the

must

she

never hear the

There

is

no one

to speak her language.

Touch her

is



Fate, for she gently, the last of the children of Shasta.

CIIISWICK PRESS



is

so alone

PRINTED BY WHITTINGHAM AND WILKINS,

TOOKS COURT, CHANCERY LANE.