A STORY OF THE SIOUX WAR.—PART II.
I awoke in the morning and saw the rays of the sun entering the window. Recalling the incidents of the previous evening, I turned to speak to my young friend.
To my surprise she was gone, and supposing she had risen a short time before, I hurriedly dressed myself and went down stairs to help keep her company.
But she was not there, and father and mother had seen nothing of her. She had no doubt risen in the night and gone quietly away.
There was something curious and touching in the fact that she had groped about in the darkness, until she found her own clothing, which she put on and departed without taking so much as a pin that belonged to us.
We all felt a strong interest in Chitto, and father took me with him a few days later when he visited Lac Qui Parle. He made many inquiries for the little girl, but could learn nothing about her.
I felt very much disappointed, for I had built up strong hopes of taking her out home with me to spend several days.
Father and I went a number of times afterward, and always made an effort to discover Chitto; but we did not gain any knowledge of her.
On the afternoon of August 19, father was sitting in his accustomed seat in front of the house, and mother was engaged, as usual about her household duties. I was playing and amusing myself as a girl of my age is inclined to do at all times.
The day was sultry and close, and I remember that father was unusually pale and weak. He coughed a great deal, and sat for a long time so still that I thought he must be asleep.