BENNY’S

The old woman started, and gazed at them curiously,

"as if she had forgotten all about them, and had to re-

call them out of the distant past. “ What did who
do?” said she.

“What did Colonel Hammerton do with you when
he picked you up ?”

“Oh, I didn’t know who picked me up — thought
*twas some of. my people, Is’pose. Colonel Hammer-
ton carried me off to the fort, and then took me to
Washington: said he was going to make a Christian
on me. I had to stay in houses — s/eep in houses !—
like being nailed up in a box. Ugh! what a misery
’tis to be like white folks! Hoo0-00-00-00-00-00!
You wouldn’t want to know all the racks and miseries
and fights and gtinds on it. I guess they got sick
on it themselves, for after I’d tried a many times to
get away from houses, and been brought back, I tried
again and they let me go, and I’ve been a-going ever
since. I asked for my people, and they told me they
was exterminated, every one on’em. “Yes, I’ve been
a-going ever since, but I can’t go any more. I hope
they'll let me stay in these forests ’till the Great
Spirit takes me away to my people. He can’t find

me in the houses, but if I keep out in the forest, I
hope he’ll find me soon. It’s been a weary, long
time.” -

“ Are you two hundred years old?” asked Benny
softly. ‘ That’s what folks say.”

“Two hunderd ? Hoo-00-00-00! fwohunderd? I’m
ven hundered, if I’m a day,” said the poor old creat-
ure. “But don’t be afeard on me —I hope there
won’t be anybody afeard on me 4ere, for then they’d
be driving on me off, or shutting me up again some-
where where the Great Spirit can’t find me. Tell

. your people not to be skeered on me—ask ’em to let
me stay here.”

The sad old eyes looked wistfully at Benny, whose
generous heart took up the poor Indian’s cause at
once.

-“You can stay here fast enough,” said he. “I
know who these woods belong to— some o’ my rela-
tions. There won’t anybody be afraid of you. Me
’n ’Bijah’ll take care of you.”

“O, bless you!” said she. “I thought I’d got to the
right place when I got here—it looked like it — it
felt like it. It seemed a’most as if I most expected
to see wigwams. A-h-h-h-h, if I could sleep in a wig-
wam!” ;

Benny felt that he could sympathize with her in
that. He and the boys had played Indians and

WIGWAM, 185
*Bijah had built wigwams for them in the wood, and
he had greatly wished and entreated to be allowed to
sleep all night in one. But he could not guess at the
longing of the aged to go back to the things dear and
familiar to them in childhood; he did not know that
all the old Indian’s days were spent in dreaming of
those things, and that she often wandered all night in
the woods, fancying herself surrounded by the wig-
wams of her people — searching anxiously for that
of her father. Though Benny could understand noth-
ing of the pathetic sadness, he felt a strong desire to
offer consolation and cheer, and he said, “JZ can
build wigwams. Me ’n ’Bijah’ll make you a wig-
wam !”

But the aged Chetonquin muttered to herself in a
tuneless quaver, and shook her head dyubtingly.

“What! She don’t deleve it!” Benny exclaimed
to himself. “Don’t believe that ’4i7ai can make
wigwams ! We'll show her!”

And he was so eager to be about it that he took
leave directly of his strange acquaintance, who seemed
lost in reverie, and to have forgotten him entirely.

When Mr. and Mrs. Briggs heard Benny’s story of
the poor Indian woman, their excellent hearts were
at once filled with compassion for so forlorn a creat-
ure. Mr. Briggs had very radical theories about equal
mercy and justice for each member of the human
race.

“Tt isn’t likely,” he often said, “that some have
a right to be in this world and others haven’t;” and
he immediately set himself to illustrate his theories
in the case of the Chetonquin.

Mrs, Briggs said there could be no doubt that she
needed other things besides wigwams, which conjec-
ture was found to be sadly true upon investigation,
An attempt was made to put this last of the Cheton-
quins into more comfortable quarters, but she received
the suggestion with dismay, and prayed so earnestly
to be left on the spot she seemed to think was like
her own native forest, that it was decided to make her
as comfortable as possible there, since it was early
summer and no harm could come from exposure. :
When the weather was cold again, she would be glad
to be sheltered elsewhere. So Mr. and Mrs. Briggs,
Grandma Potter and ’Bijah, took care that she needed
nothing, and left her to be happy in her own way.
Her shattered mind, little by little, let go of every-
thing save the memories of her childhood. All the
people of the neighboring region, old and young, came
to understand and respect the sorrows of the poor