I have a faint recollection of listening to the chimes of the wedding bells, and later, of hearing that Captain Frisbie had taken his bride away; but that is all, for about that time dear old Jakie returned to us in ill health, and our thoughts and care turned to him.  He was so feeble and wasted that grandma sent for the French physician who had recently come among us.  Even he said that he feared that Jakie had stayed away too long.  After months of treatment, the doctor shook his head saying:  “I have done my best with the medicines at hand.  The only thing that remains to be tried is a tea steeped from the nettle root.  That may give relief.”

As soon as we could get ready after the doctor uttered those words, Georgia and I, equipped with hoe, large knife, and basket were on our way to the Sonoma River.  We had a full two miles and a half to walk, but did not mind that, because we were going for something that might take Jakie’s pains away.  Georgia was to press down the nettle stems with a stick, while I cut them off and hoed up the roots.

The plants towered luxuriantly above our heads, making the task extremely painful.  No sooner would I commence operations than the branches, slipping from under the stick, would brush Georgia’s face, and strike my hands and arms with stinging force, and by the time we had secured the required number of roots, we were covered with fiery welts.  We took off our shoes and stockings, waded into the stream and bathed our faces, hands, and arms, then rested and ate the lunch we had brought with us.

As we turned homeward, we observed several Indians approaching by the bushy path, the one in front staggering, and his squaw behind, making frantic motions to us to hurry over the snake fence near-by.  This we did as speedily as possible, and succeeded none too soon; for as we reached the ground on the safe side, he stopped us, and angrily demanded the contents of our basket.  We opened it, and when he saw what it contained he stamped his wabbling foot and motioned us to be off.  We obeyed with alacrity, for it was our first experience with a drunken Indian, and greatly alarmed us.

The tea may have eased Jakie’s pain, but it did not accomplish what we had hoped.  One morning late in Summer, he asked grandpa to bring a lawyer and witnesses so that he could make his will.  This request made us all move about very quietly and feel very serious.  After the lawyer went away, grandma told us that Jakie had willed us each fifty dollars in gold, and the rest of his property to grandpa and herself.  A few weeks later, when the sap ceased flowing to the branches of the trees, and the yellow leaves were falling, we laid Jakie beside other friends in the oak grove within sight of our house.

Grandma put on deep mourning, but Georgia and I had only black sun-bonnets, which we wore with heartfelt grief.  The following Spring grandpa had the grave enclosed with a white paling; and we children planted Castilian rose bushes at the head and foot of the mound, and carried water to them from the house, and in time their branches met and the grave was a bed of fragrant blossoms.