knew not what was going on; the past was a
blank, the future was darkness. We were lifted on board--carefully
tended. The ship was bound, with settlers, to the same port to which I
was going. Those who had been saved with me told my story. Some of the
passengers were going to the far-off West, to the very spot where my
father and sisters had settled. Their hearts were touched with
compassion by my misfortunes, and they bore me with them. Truly they
were followers of the good Samaritan. Day after day we journeyed on
towards the setting sun. At length we reached my father's house; he and
my sisters scarcely knew me, so great was the havoc grief had wrought.
Kind and gentle treatment by degrees thawed my long frozen faculties,
and I began to take an interest in the affairs of the farm. In that
region the native tribes, the red men of the prairie, were fierce and
warlike, and often were engaged in deadly contests with the whites.
Years--many years, passed by, during which our people enjoyed peace. A
storm, however, was brewing, to burst with fury on our heads. It came;
in the dead of night the dreadful war-whoop of the red men was heard.
On every side arose those horrid cries. Our village was surrounded;
young and old, men and maidens, were ruthlessly murdered. My old father
and sisters were among the first slain. Some few bravely made a stand.
They fought their way out through the savages. I felt my arm seized by
some friendly hand, and was borne on amid them. Armed friends came to
our assistance, and the savages were driven back through the smoking
ruins of our home. All, all were gone; relatives, friends, and
property. Those who had accompanied me to the country, all, all were
gone. I was among strangers; they pitied me, but pity cannot last long
in the human breast. There is only One whose tender pity never wanes;
and it is only that human pity which arises from love of Him which can
stand all tests, and can endure for ever. I was left alone, alone in
that far-off land. My reason gave way. An idea had seized me--it was
to visit that mighty ocean beneath which slept my husband and my child.
I wandered on. I know not how I found my way, often through vast
solitudes where foot of man but rarely trod, till I reached the more
settled states. Food and shelter were rarely denied to the poor mad
woman, though of the roughest sort. At length I reached the eastern
cities; scant was the charity I found with