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.
"Mother," said I, "what is that smoke yonder?"
I pointed in the direction of Lac Qui Parle. She saw a dark column of
smoke floating off in the horizon, its location being such, that there
could be no doubt that it was at the Agency.
"There is a fire of some kind there," she said, while she shaded her
eyes with her hand and gazed long and earnestly in that direction.
"The Indians are coming, Edward," she called to father; "they will be
here in a few minutes!"
Suddenly, a splendid black horse came galloping from the woods, and with
two or three powerful bounds, halted directly in front of me.
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