CHAPTER III.
A STURDY COLONIST For the contrast betwixt that dreadful scene and the one on which my dim eyes slowly opened, three days afterward, first I thank the Lord in heaven, whose gracious care was over me, and after Him some very simple members of humanity.
A bronze-colored woman, with soft, sad eyes, was looking at me steadfastly.

She had seen that, under tender care, I was just beginning to revive, and being acquainted with many troubles, she had learned to succor all of them.

This I knew not then, but felt that kindness was around me.
"Arauna, arauna, my shild," she said, in a strange but sweet and soothing voice, "you are with the good man in the safe, good house.

Let old Suan give you the good food, my shild." "Where is my father?
Oh, show me my father ?" I whispered faintly, as she raised me in the bed and held a large spoon to my lips.
"You shall--you shall; it is too very much Inglese; me tell you when have long Sunday time to think.

My shild, take the good food from poor old Suan." She looked at me with such beseeching eyes that, even if food had been loathsome to me, I could not have resisted her; whereas I was now in the quick-reviving agony of starvation.