* * * * *

It was but a few weeks after Minneha had received the rescued
infant, and promised to be a mother to it, that she discovered that
she had undertaken more than she was able to fulfil. It required no
very searching eye to perceive that the little one was not thriving;
in truth, she was dwindling away day by day, and those who were in
the habit of visiting the Camp gazed sadly at the little pinched face
and shrivelled limbs, and foreboded that it would not be long before
Michel's child rejoined its mother in the 'silent land.' "Owindia"
was the name given by the Indians to their deceased sister's child;
and in truth, Owindia, "weeping one," was well suited to the frail
creature who since that terrible night was continually uttering a
feeble moan unlike an ordinary infant's cry, but which appealed to
all hearts by its thrilling tones.

One day a little bundle was brought to the English Mission House at
Fort Simpson, by Sinclia, daughter of Minneha. The following message
accompanied the bundle, which was none other than the poor little
Owindia, smaller and more fragile-looking than ever: "I am sick; I
cannot work for the child; _you_ take her." And so it happened,
that after all his horror of the white man, and his shrinking from
intercourse with any of his kind, Michel should be destined by his
own act, to have his child received into the white man's house, and
to find there in all loving care and tender offices the home of which
he had deprived her.

Owindia still lives, and is become a strong and active child, full
of spirit and intelligence, with all the marvellous powers of
observation which mark the Indian. She was baptized by the Bishop