civilization on the Reservation that had
made the boy so white; pity he had died so soon; a year on the
Reservation, and he would have been quite white."

Unlike other parts of the Union, here the races are much mixed. Creoles,
Kanakas, Mexicans, Malays, whites, and blacks, have intermixed with the
natives, till the color line is not clearly drawn. And in one case at
least some orphan children of white parentage were sent to the
Reservation by parties who wanted their property. Though I do not know
that the fact of white children being found on a Reservation makes the
sufferings of the savages less or their wrongs more outrageous. I only
mention it as a frozen fact.

Carrie did not know of the desolation which death had made in her life,
till old Forty-nine, who arrived too late to attend the burial of his
dead, told her. She did not weep. She did not even answer. She only
turned her face to the wall as she lay in her wretched bed, burning up
with the fever, but made no sign. There was nothing more for her to
bear. She had felt all that human nature can feel. She was dull, dazed,
indifferent, now to all that might occur.

To turn back for the space of a paragraph, I am bound to admit that
these dying Indians often behaved very foolishly, and, in their
superstitions brought much of the fatality upon themselves. For example,
they had a horror of the white man's remedies, and refused to take the
medicines administered to them. Brought down from the cool, fresh
mountains, where they lived under the trees in the purest air and in the
most beautiful places, they at once fell ready victims to malarial
fevers. The white man, by a liberal use of quinine and whisky, as well
as by careful diet, lived very well at the Reservation, and suffered but
little, yet had he been forced to live in a pen, crowded together like
pigs in a sty, with the bad air, on the damp, mouldy ground, he had died
too, as fast perhaps as the Indian died.

The old man could do but little for the dying girl. He was in bad odor
with the officers; they treated him with as little consideration almost
as if he too had been a savage. But he was constant at her side; he
brought a lemon which he had begged, on his knees, as it were, and tried
to make her a cool drink of the slimy, wormy water. But the girl could
not drink it. She turned her face once more to the wall, and this time,
it seemed, to die.

One morning, before the sun rose, she recovered her wander