96 
HANS STILL MISSING. 
observances, the most worthless of which is this un¬ 
broken record of the changing days. 
“April 6, Friday.—Our little family is growing more 
and more uneasy about Ilans. William reported him 
sick at Etah; but we had no faith in this story, 
and looked on his absence as merely the result of 
fatigue from exposure. But there really seems ground 
for serious apprehension now. My own fear is that 
William may have conveyed to him some false mes¬ 
sage, or some threat or reproof, using my name, and in 
this way deterred him from returning. Hans is very 
faithful; but he is entirely unaware of William’s deser¬ 
tion, and he is besides both credulous and sensitive. I 
am attached to Hans: he has always been a sort of 
henchman, a body-guard, the companion of my walks. 
He is a devout Moravian; and when the party withdrew 
from the brig last fall he refused to accompany them 
on grounds of religious obligation. The boy has fixed, 
honorable principles. Petersen thinks that he ought 
to be sent for, but he has not thought out the question 
who is to be sent. Bonsall is too lame to travel; 
Petersen himself is infinitely the best fitted, but he 
shirks the duty, and to-day he takes to his bed: I alone 
am left. 
“ Clearly duty to this poor boy calls me to seek him, 
and clearly duty to these dependent men calls upon me 
to stay. Long and uncomfortably have I pondered 
over these opposing calls, but at last have come to a 
determination. Hans was faithful to me: the danger 
to him is imminent; the danger to those left behind 
