of some perfunctory language and gestures on his part, this
silent creature of the mountains would seem to wake up and try to
understand.

And so I worried through those dreadful days--and the nights! Ah!
we had better not describe them. The poor wild thing slept the
sleep of death and could not hear my loudest calls nor desperate
shouts.

So Jack attached a cord to her pillow, and I would tug and tug at
that and pull the pillow from under her head. It was of no avail.
She slept peacefully on, and it seemed to me, as I lay there
staring at her, that not even Gabriel's trump would ever arouse
her.

In desperation I would creep out of bed and wait upon myself and
then confess to Jack and the Doctor next day.

Well, we had to let the creature go, for she was of no use, and
the Spanish dictionary was laid aside.

I struggled along, fighting against odds; how I ever got well at
all is a wonder, when I think of all the sanitary precautions
taken now-a-days with young mothers and babies. The Doctor was
ordered away and another one came. I had no advice or help from
any one. Calomel or quinine are the only medicines I remember
taking myself or giving to my child.

But to go back a little. The seventh day after the birth of the
baby, a delegation of several squaws, wives of chiefs, came to