About this period my kind aunt began to show symptoms of failing health.  Always delicate, she had never recovered from that tedious voyage and she fell into a decline which no medical skill within our reach could remedy .  The last winter had tryed (sic) her fearfuly (sic) and in early spring she passed away leaving me to the care of Mr. Murray and the kind Rector.  For a time Sir George grieved deeply but the idea of going home to England soon took his mind off his sorrow.  (I wonder how long a mans sorrow ever lasts in such cases)

He seems very anxious and desirous that I should accompany him but I resolved to remain in Quebec till I could find a way of reaching my parents in Mass. I was now 16 years old and felt quite capable of taking care of myself.  Mrs. Murray placed me  under the care of her housekeeping.  Wenona had been married to an Indian brave and had much influence with her people.  She gave us the opportunity of administering to the wants of the white prisoners occasionally brought in by war parties and Mrs. Murray allowed us to distribute food and sometimes clothing to the forlorn captives.

Walking one day toward the Indian lodges a basket of broken vituals on each arm Cordelia and myself met a woman poorly clad, emaciated  and sorrowful and bearing in her arms what appeared almost a skeleton babe.  We stoped (sic) before her and asked who she was and where she came. Her name she said was Johnson, she had been captured by Indians hsd come a long way through the woods had been almost starved and had born the child she carried on the way.  Seated by her side on a piece of timber we listened to her tale and fed her and the babe from our baskets told her where we lived and invited her to come home with us but as we rose an Indian came to her side and ordered her to return whence she came.  He was her cator and her master she said she dared not disobey him.  We went with her to lodge assigned her and found it occupied by a squaw and some papposes and one other child of Mrs. Johnson, she told us that the food we gave her must be divided with the Indians and their children or they would be angry and punish her.  So we distributed our load and left them with aching hearts.  We saw the same woman a few times but learned little more of her.