“No, they are often very rough; but the women are kinder than the men, who, fortunately for me, are away upon the war-path the greater part of the time, returning only occasionally for a night.”
“What work do they require of you?”
“I first bring up water from the lake in the morning,—that tires me most,—then I help cook their food, and do whatever is necessary in an Indian household,”—and Millicent smiled,—“and I sew for the women and children.”
“The wretches! why don’t they bring their own water from the lake, and make their own clothes?”
“I would willingly do all they ask could I but know that I may soon be free to look for my sister, and be among my own race again.”
“We will see about that. You must not do drudgery for these savages much longer. Have you no relatives with whom it may be possible your sister is now?”
“None; the family whom we were visiting when I was captured were our only relatives. My sister was out at the time on an errand in the town; so you see I do not know whether she was killed or captured, undoubtedly one or the other. My name is Millicent Gordon; hers, Martha. Now, sir, you have my history, and I wish to thank you for your kind attention. It has done me good to relate it to you, for you are the first white man whom I have seen for many months.”
“My dear lady, your story has interested me deeply and aroused in me both sincere admiration and sympathy for one who has suffered so much and so bravely. My one thought is to liberate you.”
“Can you really do so? Is the country, then, not all given over to the Indians? Oh, tell me it is not!”
“No, indeed; they are being steadily and surely conquered; though, God knows, they do enough damage even now. I am Captain Merwin, sent here from Boston on a scouting expedition. I have two men with me, who are awaiting my return less than a mile off. I wandered in this direction while they were resting. I knew there were many Indians roving about; but that there was a camp in this vicinity I was not aware.”