generous, and kind, and to her very gentle and affectionate.

Now she became thoroughly reconciled to Indian life, her greatest sorrow
being the necessary absence of her husband on the war-path and hunting
excursions. She followed the occupation of a woman, tilled the fields,
dressed the meats and skins, and gathered the fuel for the winter's fire,
and although this seems to the whites as unfeminine labor, it was
performed at their leisure, and occupied very little of their time.

When the hunters returned they were weary and passive, and seldom were
guilty of fault-finding, and so well did an Indian woman know her duty,
that her husband was not obliged to make his wants known. Obedience was
required in all respects, and where there was harmony and affection,
cheerfully yielded, and knowing as they did that separation would be the
consequence of neglect of duty and unkindness, there was really more
self-control, and about little things, than those who are bound for
life. They did not agree to live together through good and through evil
reports, but only while they loved and confided in each other, and they
were therefore careful not to throw lightly away this love and affection.

The labor of the field was performed in so systematic a manner, and by so
thorough and wisely divisioned labor, that there were none of the
jealousies and enjoyings which exist among those who wish to hoard, and
ambitious to excel in style and equipage. And before the fire-water came
among them, dissentions of any kind were almost unknown. This has been
the fruitful source of all their woes. It was not till Mary became a
mother that she gave up all longing for civilized society, and
relinquished all hope of again returning to the abodes of the white man.
Now she had a tie to bind her which could not be broken. If she should
find her white friends they would not recognize her Indian husband, or