Page:The Indian History of the Modoc War.djvu/212

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ing the letters of his Kentucky sweetheart; that on his return to the cabin he declared that "the Modoc maiden should not make him forget his girl!" Be careful, Mr. Riddle, you don't know what the morrow may bring for you. At the Indian lodge a young girl of about fifteen was humming a low tune in the Modoc tongue. It is the same voice we heard near the camp of the Te-ni-noes two years since. The morning came ; but no Wi-ne-ma was at her father's camp. Supposing that she had gone for the horses, her father felt no alarm, until an hour later, when it was discovered that her personal effects were missing. Even then he did not suspect the truth, but thinking she had only gone to some of her kindred, she would return.

She had indeed gone to her cousin's house. This cousin had married a white man. Wi-ne-ma told her of her love for the young man in the cabin. The cousin informed her husband, and he, wishing to have congenial neighbors, went to Frank, and informed him of the presence of the maiden at his house, and of her attachment for him. Frank shook his head. He had fortified himself against the charms of the Indian maiden, as he thodght, but consented to visit her. Ah ! my man, have you not learned that when the first step is taken the next fol- lows easily, and then another?

Frank gave some attention to his dress, putting on the "biled shirt" which had been kept for "extra occasions, say- ing that he would "go just for the fun of the thing." Ah F my boy, many a man has started in fun, and come out in earnest. The face of the fair-haired girl went with him, reproaching him for his folly, upbraiding him at every step, and he was half inclined to turn back, but his companion en- couraged him to go on, saying that if he "didn't like the girl he needn't take her, that's all." When they arrived at his friend's cabin he found Wi-ne-ma dressed in the highest style of the Modoc maidens. He felt ashamed of having come, as the memory of his Kentucky betrothed rose before his mind.

The evening hours glided by, the strangeness wore off, and by the aid of an interpreter the conversation became interest- ing. Wi-ne-ma sang love-songs in the Modoc tong