Chapter 22

I awoke in the morning and saw the rays of the sun entering the window. Recalling the incidents of the previous evening, I turned to speak to my young friend.

To my surprise she was gone, and supposing she had risen a short time before, I hurriedly dressed myself and went down stairs to help keep her company.

But she was not there, and father and mother had seen nothing of her. She had no doubt risen in the night and gone quietly away.

There was something curious and touching in the fact that she had groped about in the darkness, until she found her own clothing, which she put on and departed without taking so much as a pin that belonged to us.

We all felt a strong interest in Chitto, and father took me with him a few days later when he visited Lac Qui Parle. He made many inquiries for the little girl, but could learn nothing about her.

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. As it did so, I saw that the bareback rider was a small girl, and she was our little Sioux friend, Chitto.

She made a striking picture, with her long, black hair streaming over her shoulders, and her dress fluttering in the wind.

"Why, Chitto," said I, in amazement, "where did you come from?"

"Must go--must go--must go!" she exclaimed, in great excitement. "Indian soon be here!"

So it seemed that, in the few weeks since she had been at our house, she had picked up enough of the English language to make herself understood.

"What do you mean?" asked mother, as she and I advanced to the side of the black steed upon which the little Sioux sat; "what are the Indians doing?"

"They burn buildings--have killed people--coming this way!"

Chitto spoke the truth, for the Sioux were raging like demons at that very hour at Lac Qui Parle.

"What shall we do, Chitto?" asked my mother.

"Get on horse--he carry you."

"But my husband; the horse can not carry all three of us."

My poor distracted mother scarcely knew what to do. All this time father sat like a statue in his chair. A terrible suspicion suddenly entered her mind, and she ran to him.

Placing her hand upon his shoulder, she addressed him in a low tone, and then uttered a fearful shriek, as she staggered backward, saying: "He is dead! he is dead!"

Such was the fact. The shock of the news brought by the little Indian girl was too much, and he had expired in his chair without a struggle. The wild cry which escaped my mother was answered by several whoops from the woods, and Chitto became frantic with terror.

"Indian be here in minute!" said she.

Mother instantly helped me upon the back of the horse and then followed herself. She was a skillful rider, but she allowed Chitto to retain the bridle, and we started off.

Looking back I saw a half-dozen Sioux horsemen come out of the woods and start on a trot toward us.

Just then Chitto spoke to the horse, and he bounded off at a terrible rate, never halting until he had gone two or three miles.

Then, when we looked back, we saw nothing of the Indians, and the horse was brought down to a walk; and finally, when the sun went down, we entered a dense wood, where we staid all night.

I shall not attempt to describe those fearful hours. Not one of us slept a wink. Mother sat weeping over the loss of father, while I was heart-broken, too.

Chitto, like the Indian she was, kept on the move continually. Here and there she stole as noiselessly through the wood as a shadow, while playing the part of sentinel.

At daylight we all fell into a feverish slumber, which lasted several hours. When we awoke, we were hungry and miserable.

Seeing a settler's house in the distance, Chitto offered to go to it for food. We were afraid she would get into trouble, but she was sure there was no danger and went.

In less than an hour she was back again with an abundance of bread. She said there was no one in the house, and we supposed the people had become alarmed and escaped.

We staid where we were for three days, during which time we saw a party of Sioux warriors burn the house where Chitto had obtained the food for us.

It seemed to mother that the Indians would not remain at Lac Qui Parle long, and that we would be likely to find safety there. Accordingly, she induced Chitto to start on the return.

When we reached our house nothing was to be seen of father's body; but we soon, discovered a newly-made grave, where we had reason to believe he was buried.

As was afterward ascertained, he had been given a decent burial by orders of Little Crow himself, who, doubtless, would have protected us, had we awaited his coming.

We rode carefully through the woods, and when we came out on the other side, our hearts were made glad by the sight of the white tents of United States soldiers. Colonel Sibley was encamped at Lac Qui Parle, and we were safe at last.

Chitto disappeared from this post in the same sudden manner as before; but I am happy to say that I have seen her several times since. Mother and I were afraid her people would punish her for the part she took in helping us, but they did not.

Probably the friendship which Little Crow showed toward our family, may have had something to do with the gentle treatment which the Indians showed her.

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Language Lesson.--Supply the words omitted from the following sentences.

"Must go! Indian soon be here!"

"Indian be here in minute!"

Let pupils make out an _analysis_ for the subject--

"Our Second Visit from Chitto,"

and use it in giving that part of the story in their own words.

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LESSON LIX.

e mit', _send forth_.

con'trast, _difference in form or appearance_.

molt'en, _melted_.

con'ic al, _having the shape of a cone_.

vol'umes, _quantities; masses_.

char'ac ter, _kind; formation_.

del'uge, _flood; drown_.

com pre hen'sion, _the power of the mind to understand_.

ap pall'ing, _terrifying_.

grand'eur, _majesty; vastness of size_.

lu'rid, _gloomy; dismal_.

tre men'dous, _terrific; awful_.

* * * * *

VOLCANOES.

In various parts of the earth, there are mountains that send out from their highest peaks, smoke, ashes, and fire.

Mountains of this class are called volcanoes, and they present a striking contrast to other mountains, on account of their conical form and the character of the rocks of which they are composed.

All volcanoes have at their summits what are called craters. These are large, hollow, circular openings, from which the smoke and fire escape.

Nearly all volcanoes emit smoke constantly. This smoke proceeds from fires that are burning far down in the depths of the earth.

Sometimes these fires burst forth from the crater of the volcano with tremendous force. The smoke becomes thick and black, and lurid flames shoot up to a height of hundreds of feet, making a scene of amazing grandeur.

With the flames there are thrown out stones, ashes, and streams of melted rock, called lava. This lava flows down the sides of the mountain, and, being red-hot, destroys every thing with which it comes in contact. At such times, a volcano is said to be in eruption.

A volcanic eruption is generally preceded by low, rumbling sounds, and trembling of the earth's surface. Then follows greater activity of the volcano, from which dense volumes of smoke and steam issue, and fire and molten lava make their appearance.

Such is the force of some of these eruptions, that large rocks have been hurled to great distances from the crater, and towns and cities have been buried under a vast covering of ashes and lava.

The quantity of lava and ashes which sometimes escapes from volcanoes during an eruption, is almost beyond comprehension.

In 1772, a volcano in the island of Java, threw out ashes and cinders that covered the ground fifty feet deep, for a distance of seven miles all around the mountain. This eruption destroyed nearly forty towns and villages.

In 1783, a volcano in Iceland sent out two streams of lava; one forty miles long and seven miles wide, and the other fifty miles long and fifteen miles wide. These streams were from one hundred to six hundred feet deep.

Near the city of Naples, Italy, is situated the volcano Mt. Vesuvius. This fiery monster has probably caused more destruction than any other volcano known.

In the year 79 A.D., it suddenly burst forth in a violent eruption, that resulted in one of the most appalling disasters that ever happened.

Such immense quantities of ashes, stones, and lava were poured forth from its crater, that within the short space of twenty hours, two large cities were completely destroyed. These cities were Herculaneum and Pompeii.

At this eruption of Vesuvius, the stream of lava flowed directly through and over the city of Herculaneum into the sea. The quantity was so great that, as it cooled and became hardened, it gradually filled up all the streets and ran over the tops of the houses.

While the lava was thus turning the city into a mass of solid stone, the inhabitants were fleeing from it along the shore toward Naples, and in boats on the sea.

At the same time, too, the wind carried the ashes and cinders in such a direction as to deluge the city of Pompeii.

Slowly and steadily the immense volume of ashes and small stones, blocked up the streets and settled on the roofs of houses.

The light of the flames that burst out from the awful crater, aided the people in their escape; but many who for some reason could not get away, perished.

Pompeii was so completely covered that, nothing could be seen of it. Thus it remained buried under the ground until the year 1748, when it was discovered by accident.

Since that time much of the city has been uncovered, and now one can walk along the streets, look into the houses, and form some idea how the people lived there eighteen hundred years ago.

* * * * *

_Language Lesson_.--Let pupils write an account of a supposed journey from their homes to Naples, telling about the route they would take, and the particulars as to time and distance. Be very particular about handwriting, spelling, punctuation, and capital letters.

* * * * *

LESSON LX.

coot, _a water-bird_.

hern (her'on), _a wading bird_.

ed'dying, _moving in small circles_.

mal'low, _a kind of plant_.

bick'er, _move quickly; quarrel_.

fal'low, _plowed land_.

gray'ling, _a kind of fish_.

cress'es, _a kind of water-plant_.

sal'ly, _a rushing or bursting forth_.

thorps, _villages_.

bram'bly, _full of rough shrubs_.

* * * * *

THE BROOK.

I come from haunts of coot and hern, I make a sudden sally, And sparkle out among the fern, To bicker down a valley.

By thirty hills I hurry down, Or slip between the ridges, By twenty thorps, a little town, And half a hundred bridges.

Till last by Philip's farm I flow To join the brimming river, For men may come, and men may go, But I go on forever.

I chatter over stony ways, In little sharps and trebles, I bubble into eddying bays, I babble on the pebbles.

With many a curve my bank I fret By many a field and fallow, And many a fairy foreland set With willow-wood and mallow.

I chatter, chatter, as I flow To join the brimming river, For men may come, and men may go, But I go on forever.

I wind about, and in and out, With here a blossom sailing, And here and there a lusty trout, And here and there a grayling.

And here and there a foamy flake Upon me, as I travel With many a silvery waterbreak Above the golden gravel.

And draw them all along, and flow To join the brimming river, For men may come, and men may go, But I go on forever.

I steal by lawns and grassy plots, I slide by hazel covers; I move the sweet forget-me-nots That grow for happy lovers.

I slip, I slide, I gloom, I glance, Among my skimming swallows; I make the netted sunbeam dance Against my sandy shallows.

I murmur under moon and stars In brambly wildernesses; I linger by my shingly bars; I loiter round my cresses.

And out again I curve and flow To join the brimming river, For men may come, and men may go, But I go on forever.

* * * * *

Directions for Reading.--Point out the places in the poem where two lines should be joined in reading.

Mark the _inflection_ of the following lines.

"I slip, I slide, I gloom, I glance, Among my skimming swallows."

"For men may come, and men may go, But I go on forever."

Read the last two lines, and state whether the _inflected words_ are also _emphatic words_.

Find a similar example of _inflection_ and _emphasis_ upon the same words in the last stanza of Lesson XXXVI.

* * * * *

Language Lesson.--Let pupils explain the meaning of the following expressions.

_Join the brimming river_.

_Netted sunbeam_.

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LESSON LXI.

de terred', _kept from_.

en'ter prise, _an undertaking_.

im'ple ments, _articles used in a trade_.

sur vey'ing, _measuring land_.

in'di cated, _showed; pointed out_.

re clin'ing, _partly lying down_.

re lease', _let go_.

con clu'sion, _final decision_.

suc ces'sion, _following one after another_.

hur'ri cane, _a high wind_.

an'ec dote, _incident; story_.

com pact', _closely put together_.

* * * * *

ANECDOTE OF WASHINGTON.