Henry C. Rowland,
Sea Scamps — Back Tracks
(1903)
“ Wonder, interest, awe, and fear chased one another successively across his features, and all the time there was the look of one listening to a long-forgotten melody. At first I thought McKim's mutterings were inarticulate and meaningless, but pretty soon I recognised the fact that he was talking to himself in a North American Indian dialect, many of the guttural sounds of which once heard are unmistakable, and all the while the old Chinaman was listening with the ecstasy of a parent who, almost contrary to his belief, hears the voice of a child whom he has long believed dead. ”
