her child fatherless.

Very long did she mourn Sheningee, for it seemed to her there was none
like him. But again the sympathies of his people created a new link to
bind her to them, and she said she could not have loved a mother or
sisters more dearly than she did those who stood in this relationship to
her, and soothed her with their loving words.

Not for four years was she again urged to marry, and during this time
there was an exchange of prisoners and she had an opportunity to return
to her kindred; she was left to do as she chose. They told her she might
go, but if she preferred to remain she should still be their daughter and
sister, and they would give her land for her own where she might always
dwell. Again she thought of the prejudice she would everywhere meet, and
that she could never patiently listen to reproaches concerning her
husband's people. It would not be believed that he was noble, because he
was an Indian; and she would have no near relatives and those she had
might reject her if she should seek them, so she came to the final
conclusion and never more sighed for the advantages or pleasures of
civilized life. She came with the brothers of Sheningee to the banks of
the Genesee, where she resided the remaining seventy-two years of her
life.

Her second husband--Hiokatoo--she never learned to love. He was a Chief
and a warrior brave and fearless; but though he was always kind to her,
he was a man of blood. He delighted in deeds of cruelty and delighted to
relate them. And now the fire water had become common, and the good were
bad and the bad worse, so that dissensions arose in families and in
neighborhoods, and the happiness which had been almost without alloy was
no longer known among these simple people.