We had been at the Mission house but a few weeks when we noticed a small Indian boy, not more than seven or eight years old. He seemed to belong to Ka-u-fa, the chief of the small band camped near us. We noticed too, that the small boy seemed different. he was really a beautiful child and carried himself with a fine dignity, in odd contrast to the tattered old buckskin shirt, belted or rather tied in at the waist with a frayed piece of rope. It was his only garment, but he walked with his shoulders back and his chin held high. Our boys, who sometimes went to the Indian camp told of seeing ugly welts on his bare legs, sometimes the welts were even bleeding.We saw the little fellow pass our house tied on the back of a lean, gray horse. A couple of big baskets were swung across in front of him. These baskets held maybe a bushel, perhaps even more. We would see him pass in the early morning. It was usually dusk when he returned, with his baskets of berries and nuts. They were not always full. At such times the little bare legs would show welts that were fresh and often bloody. Father inquired into it. Jimmy O'Neil could tell him all about it. The child was a slave that was taken during one of the tribal wars out south. He was taken prisoner by the Calipooias in one of their raids. We thought for years that the boy was a Shasta, but later we learned in an odd way, that he was really a Rogue River Indian. The tribe who had taken him sold him to old Ka-u-fa, and Ka-u-fa was a brute. The boy was starved and worked and beaten. Father could not stand it, so he went to Ka-u-fa and offered to buy him. At first Ka-u-fa would sit and listen to him. We offered a gun, some ammunition, a horse and bunches of beads, a gay colored shawl and a buffalo robe richly beaded and worked with porcupine quills. Ka-u-fa was finally satisfied and Father became at last, a slave owner himself. The things he traded to the old Chief we needed very badly ourselves. The boy could not speak or understand the language of his captors and Ka-u-fa called him as you would a dog, by snapping his fingers. The boy was afraid of the white people. I can see his big eyes yet as he looked from us to Ka-u-fa, when Ka-u-fa brought him to our house. The boy could understand nothing of what was being said, he did not seem to sense that he was being sold to the "Pale Faces", his natural enemies as he had been taught from infancy, so when Ka-u-fa turned to go, he tried to follow. Ka-u-fa pushed him backwards, and our boys caught and held him.The little slave's Indian name was Nos-ta, but Mother said: "He was sold by his brethren into bondage, we will call him Joseph." So Joe he was to us from then on. Mother had our boys give him a through scrubbing and had them clip his hair very close, and comb and comb it with a fine toothed comb. He was covered with vermin and his back was crisscrossed with bruises, an evidence of many a brutal beating. The child had no idea what further tortures was in store for him, he showed though that he was ready to submit to it without flinching. Walt Davies Monmouth, OR