steward to learn the fate of the little runaway. He went on until he
found the little boy's cap and mittens, and the place where he had
evidently lain all night. It was a bitter night, and we knew that he
could not possibly have survived, in his exhausted condition, and not
knowing how to protect himself, even if he had had the means for so
doing. This, in itself, was a very bitter experience for us, but the
worst was yet to come. Mr. Riggs found it impossible to get an Indian to
go to the assistance of these poor people. They were all _afraid_.
Rumors were afloat that the father was going to shoot anyone connected
in any way with the school, Indian or white. When an Indian is
sorrow-stricken over the death of a friend or relative, he alleviates
his suffering by killing some one else.

After the little boy was buried, the family came to the school. The old
grandmother brought the clothes he had on when found--and which they had
cut off,--spread them out before Mr. Riggs, and reproached him for
sending a little boy out into a storm so insufficiently clad; to which
Mr. Riggs replied that we had no idea he was going out into the storm,
that he was dressed for the house, and had we known he was going on a
journey, he would have been dressed for it. She would not be pacified,
however, and after bitterly reproaching Mr. Riggs for the death of her
grandson, she _demanded pay_ for it, as if money would make up to them
his loss.

That afternoon, at the woman's meeting, we learned that they had given
away everything they possessed, furniture, clothing, bedding, dishes,
and were absolutely destitute of the barest necessities of life. This is
one of their customs. They reason thus: Our child is dead; our hearts
are sad; life has no longer any attractions; take all we have. The
Christian Indian women in our church each gave something out of her