“Why should I?” she returned, in the same sorrowful voice. “I do not know that I have any relations living; I have almost forgotten their names. I have no one but a father, and he has long since forgotten that he had a child stolen by the Indians.”
“How old were you when you were taken away?”
“I could not have been more than five years.”
“How is it that you speak English so well?”
Lamora looked up in surprise.
“My tribe use the language, more than their own tongue.”
“Was it the Meagans that stole you?”
“No; they would not do such a thing. I was stolen by the Sioux, shortly after my father had emigrated to the West. They killed my mother and sisters and brothers, but father escaped, and I was carried away captive.”
“How did you learn all this.”
“Kipwan, who is the chief of our tribe, and who is my adopted father, ransomed me of the Sioux who claimed me as his booty, and from him he got the particulars of my misfortune.”