Explore "Lost in The Backwoods" by Catharine Parr Strickland Traill on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
"Here the wren of softest note Builds its nest and warbles well, Here the blackbird strains his throat Welcome, welcome to our cell. " -- COLERIDGE.
The day was far advanced before the sick Indian girl could be brought home to their sylvan lodge, where Catharine made up a comfortable couch for her with boughs and grass, and spread one of the deer-skins over it, and laid her down as tenderly and carefully as if she had been a dear sister. This good girl was overjoyed at having found a companion of her own age and sex. "Now," said she, "I shall no more be lonely, I shall have a companion and friend to talk to and assist me. " But when she turned in the fulness of her heart to address herself to the young stranger, she felt herself embarrassed in what way to make her comprehend the words she used to express the kindness that she felt for her and her sorrow for her sufferings.