It was not until the Indians had reached the other side of the
river, which at that part may be a mile and a quarter wide, that they
collected together and became aware that _one of the children was
missing!_ That this should be so, and that in their terror and
haste to depart they had forgotten or overlooked the baby, still a
nursling, who must have been crawling about outside the camp during
the fatal tragedy of that morning, may seem strange. More strange
still, that not one of that party should have thought of going back
to seek her. But the female infant occupies an insignificant place
among those uncivilized people: the birth of one of them is greeted
with but a small fraction of the honours with which a male child
would be welcomed.
And into the causes of the death of not a few of these girl-babies
it would perhaps be painful to enquire; but many a poor Indian mother
will delude herself into the belief that she has done a merciful act
when the little infant of a few hours' life is buried deep under the
snow, the mother's sin undiscovered, and "my baby saved from
starvation."
And so the poor Indians of our story troubled themselves but little
about the missing babe, and there was certainly a bare possibility
that the father might come upon it and succour it--for Michel had
always been a kind father, that he might possibly find and carry the
child to one of the camps not far distant, where it would, for a time
at least, be cared for.
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