a friendly manner.

White Crow seemed particularly anxious to impress it upon me, that if
any danger should arise in Shaw-nee-aw-kee's absence, he should come
with his people to protect me and my family. I relied upon his
assurances, for he had ever shown himself an upright and honorable
Indian.

Notwithstanding this, the thoughts of Indian troubles so near us, in the
absence of our guardian and protector, occasioned us many an anxious
moment, and it was not until we learned of the peaceable retreat of the
Sauks and Foxes west of the Mississippi, that we were able wholly to lay
aside our fears.

We were now called to part with our friends, Major Twiggs and his
family, which we did with heartfelt regret. He gave me a few parting
words about our old acquaintance, Krissman.

"When I went into the barracks the other day," said he, "about the time
the men were taking their dinner, I noticed a great six-foot soldier
standing against the window-frame, crying and blubbering. 'Halloo,' said
I, 'what on earth does this mean?'

"'Why, that fellow there,' said Krissman (for it was he), 'has scrowged
me out of my place!' A pretty soldier your protege will make, madam!"
added the Major.

I never heard more of my hero. Whether he went to exhibit his prowess
against the Seminoles and Mexicans, or whether he returned to till the
fertile soil of his native German Flats and blow his favorite boatman's
horn, must be left for some future historian to tell.

There is one more character to be disposed of--Louisa. An opportunity
offering in the spring, the Major placed her under the charge of a
person going to Buffalo, that she might be returned to her parents. In
compliment to the new acquaintances she had formed, she shortened her
skirts, mounted a pair of scarlet leggings embroidered with
porcupine-quills, and took her leave of military life, having deposited
with the gentleman who took charge of her sixty dollars, for safe
keeping, which she remarked "she had _saved up_, out of her wages at a
dollar a week, through the winter."

* * * * *

A very short time after we were settled in our new home at the Agency,
we attempted the commencement of a little Sunday-school. Edwin, Harry
and Josette were our most reliable scholars, but besides them there were
the two little Manaigres, Therese Paquette, and her mother's
half-sister, Florence Courville, a pretty young girl of fifteen. None of
these girls had