Page:Oregon Historical Quarterly volume 37.djvu/226

 A poor Indian woman sailing in a boat with her husband just below here yesterday who was shot dead by the chief of the tribe. The ball that killed him went through her arm & just grazed her breast but did not kill her. She came into the Fort today a pitiful object. Mr. S. has told us of a case which occured just after they arrived at Walla W. from here a woman sickened & died leaving a little child. She was buried. Her husband obtained a woman to nurse the child for him. A few days after in the absence of the Father of the Child The Father of the Childs mother came & took the child away from the woman & carried it to the grave of its Mother, dug it open and placed the child in & buried it alive with its mother. When its Father returned & heard what had become of the child was very much greved, & wished to have the man shot. But no measures were then taken to redress the wrong. These things with others make me feel that I am on heathen ground.

"Eve. My school of singers are assembling, & invite my attendance. They have improved much in their singing & learned very many tunes for the short time I have been here. Doct thinks it a great assistance to them in learning to speak the English language. All regret my leaving Doct says if I was not situated so far off he would send them all to me. 18 of them are orphans which the Doct has pick'd up & saved alive. Mrs. McLaughlin has a fine ear for music & is greatly delighted. She is one of the kindest women in the world. Speaks a little French, but mostly Cree, her native tongue. She wishes to go & live with me her Daughter & Mrs Douglas also. The Lord reward them for their love & kindness to us.

"9 o'clock. The Doct urges me to stay all winter, he is a very sympathetic man is afraid we shall suffer, presents many obstacles in the way of our going which appear so to him but not to us. I have just learned that we cannot leave tomorrow. The new boat is not ready quite. No work done for us today because it is the Roman Catholic All Saints day, a Holladay. You will see the Seal of my host upon the enclosure of this journal. They are over nice in following rules of etiquette here in some particulars. It is considered impolite to seal a letter with a wafer for the reason that it is wet with spittle.