consider her lawfully married: they would not care to be connected by
ties of blood to a people whom they despised: her child would not be
happy among those who looked upon her as inferior, and she herself had no
education to fit her for the companionship of the white people. She
looked upon her little daughter and thought, it is Sheningee's--it is
dearer to me than all things else--I could not endure to see her treated
with aversion or neglect.

But only a little while was she permitted this happiness, her daughter
died while yet an infant, and when Sheningee was away. Again the feeling
of desolation came over her young spirit, but all around her ministered
in every way to her comfort, and became more than ever endeared to her
heart. After a long absence. Sheningee returned. She afterwards had a
son, and named him after her father, to which no objection was made by
her Indian friends, and her love for her husband became idolatry. In her
eyes he seemed everything noble and good: she mourned his departure and
longed for his return, for his affection prompted him to treat her with
gentle and winning kindness which is the spirit of true love alone.

But again the separation, and she must pass another winter alone. For
hunting was the Indian's toil, and though they delighted in it, the pangs
of parting from his wife and little one, made it a sacrifice, and spread
a dark cloud over a long period of his life. And now it became dark
indeed to Mary, for she waited long and Sheningee came not. She put
everything in order in his little dwelling. She dressed new skins for his
couch, and smoked venison to please his taste. She made the fire bright
to welcome him, hoping every evening when she lay down with her baby upon
her bosom, that ere the morning sun the husband and father would gladden
them by his smiles, but in vain; winter had passed away, and the spring,
and then came the sad tidings that he was dead, she became a widow and