talking, my mother and sister were crying. I did not cry, for I wanted to stay so that I could sit in the beautiful red chairs. Mother said,—
“Dear son, you know if we stay here sister will be taken from us by the bad white man. I would rather see her die than see her heart full of fear every night.”
“Yes, dear mother, we love our dear sister, and if you say so we will go to papa.”
“Yes, dear son, let us go and tell him what his white brothers are doing to us.”
“Then I will go and tell Mr. Scott we want to go to our papa.” He was gone some time, and at last came back.
“Mother,” he says, “we can’t go,—that is, brother and I must stay;—but you and sister can go if you wish to.”
“Oh no, my dear children, how can I go and leave you Mere? Oh, how can that bad man keep you from going? You are not his children. How dare he say you cannot go with your mother? He is not your father; he is nothing but a bad white man, and he dares to say you cannot go. Your own father did not say you should not come with me. Oh, had my dear husband said those words I would not have been here to-day, and see my dear children suffer from day to day. Oh, if your father only knew how his children were suffering, I know he would kill that white man who tried to take your sister. I cannot see for my life why my father calls them his white brothers. They are not people; they have no thought, no mind, no love. They are beasts, or they would know I, a lone woman, am here with them. They tried to take my girl from me and abuse her before my eyes and yours too, and oh, you must go too.”
“Oh, mother, here he comes!”
My mother got up. She held out her two hands to him, and cried out,—
