fected her, that one day she made to him a confession
of the events of her life. It is only necessary to recount those which
have a connection with this story. Some twenty years previous she had
accompanied her husband on a visit to a tribe in Kentucky, into which
some of her own relatives had been received. While there an expedition
had been undertaken by the Indians, which her husband joined, against
the white settlements, then inconsiderable, and exposed. After a few
days the warriors returned in triumph, bringing with them many
scalps, but no prisoner, except a little boy, saved by her husband,
Huttamoiden. He delivered the child to her, and having none herself,
she soon learned to love it as her own. Huttamoiden described to her
with that particularity which marks the description of natural objects
by an Indian, whose habits of life in the forest compel him to a close
observation, the situation of the log-hut from which the child was
taken, the hut itself before which leaped a mountain stream, the
appearance of the unfortunate woman who was murdered, and the
desperate resistance of the master of the cabin, who, at the time, was
supposed to have perished in the flames, but was afterwards known by
the name of Onontio--as the scourge and terror of the tribe which
had destroyed his family. She had shortly afterwards started with her
husband, taking with them the little boy, for the east, but they found
the innumerable questions and suspicions occasioned by the possession
of the white child so annoying, and dreaded so the inquiries and
investigation that would be made upon their return home, that they
determined to get rid of him upon the first opportunity. As their
route lay through New York, the streets of a populous city furnished
the very chance they desired. It was with great reluctance Esther
felt herself compelled to this course, and she was unwilling the child
should fall into unkind hands. While reflecting upon what was to be
done, she remembered a family which had come from that part of the
country whence she came, and whom she had known as worthy people,
and determined to entrust to them the boy. She dared not to do
this openly. So one night she placed the child on their door-step,
enjoining him not to stir until some one took him into the house,
while she herself watched close by, until she saw him taken in. Since
then, not daring to make inquiries, for fear of bringing on herself
some unknown punishment, she