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Volume 3 (1858-1859) (592 pages)
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Page: of 592
WILD FLOWER: THE PRIDE OF THE OH-WAUKEES. 309
would forgive them for all the past, and
they should inherit all his property.
This was glorious news to them, not so
far as the property was concerned with
Elic, but the reconciliation of her father
to their union.
Their happiness would now have been
complete, if Frank had been there to go
with them to the States. They determined to sail on the next steamer, and
they had prevailed on Joe to go with
them. The day before they were to
leave Sacramento, Elic met Frank on the
street, who told him that Wild Flower,
or whom we shall now call Charlotte
Seaman, and who was none other than
Joe’s sister, who had been stolen when
quite young by the Indians, and her
father being killed at the time she was
stolen. This Frank learned when he
arrived at their village on the Colorado.
The band she was dwelling with, when
the boys were taken prisoners, had traded
for her from the Apaches. He came
across an old French trader, who told
him all about the circumstances and
what her name was, for he used to be
well acquainted with Mr. Dixon, Joe’s
father. As soon as Frank learned these
facts, he began to prevail upon Charlotte
to return to California, telling ber all he
had learned from the French trader and
that Joe was her brother. She finally
consented; but the Indians would not
let them go, until they promised to come
back again. They got in with a train,
and came through to Sacramento.
They all set sail on the next steamer
for the Atlantic States; and a more
happy group never left the Pacific coast.
Leu and Nelly, having received their
freedom-papers, concluded to remain in
California ; and, before the party started,
they were married. They now reside in
a small town, in the northern part of this
State, where Leu is engaged in mining
and Nelly does washing. They are worth
about fifteen thousand dollars, and they
are noted for their honesty and industry.
It was from them that we got an insight
for the foundation of our story; for,
through them, we learned where Joe
resided, for he did not remain in the
States but a short time, and to him we
are indebted for the most interesting
portion of our narrative. Should any
one, who reads this story, chance to
travel on the Cumberland river, which
flows through the most beautiful portion
of Tennessee, they will see two splendid
mansions, which stand on the banks, not
more than a hundred yards apart, where
live Elic and Julia, Frank and Charlotte,
or who was once Witp FLowsr, THE
Prive oF THR OH-WAUKEES.
Reader, our story is completed; and if
we have produced one feeling of interest
in the bosom of those who have followed
us through, our brightest anticipations
are realized. And, hoping to meet you
again, we respectfully take our leave.
BE STILL, MY HARP, BE STILL.
BY MRS. C. A. CHAMBERLAIN.
Be still, my harp, be still,—
Pour not thy music here!
Keep thy lone, wasted tone, to thrill
In the pure music sphere.
This is the orb unblest,
Of all the starry throng ;
No thing of grace may here find rest—
Be mute, O soul of song!
To Hope, e’en at her birth,
A haunting shade is given ;
And Love turns weary from the Earth
With waiting looks to Heaven.
Here sweet Peace vainly tries
To make her dwelling fair ;
To fields above, she weeping flies,
And sets her white tent there.
Be mute, O spirit strain,
Die, from the cold earth—die!