She began re-adjusting the poor sufferer in her blanket. I got her some
food, and begged her to stay and rest herself; but she was too much
distressed to eat, and too restless to remain. She said little, but her
face expressed the keenest anguish; she took up her mournful load, pressed
for a moment his wasted, burning hand in hers, and left the room.

My heart followed her a long way on her melancholy journey. Think what
this woman's love must have been for that dying son, when she had carried
a lad of his age six miles, through the deep snow upon her back, on such a
day, in the hope of my being able to do him some good. Poor heartbroken
mother! I learned from Joe Muskrat's squaw some days after that the boy
died a few minutes after Elizabeth Iron, his mother, got home.

They never forget any little act of kindness. One cold night, late in the
fall, my hospitality was demanded by six squaws, and puzzled I was how to
accommodate them all. I at last determined to give them the use of the
parlour floor during the night. Among these women there was one very old,
whose hair was as white as snow. She was the only gray-haired Indian I
ever saw, and on that account I regarded her with peculiar interest. I
knew that she was the wife of a chief, by the scarlet embroidered
leggings, which only the wives and daughters of chiefs are allowed to
wear. The old squaw had a very pleasing countenance, but I tried in vain
to draw her into conversation. She evidently did not understand me; and
the Muskrat squaw, and Betty Cow, were laughing at my attempts to draw her
out. I administered supper to them with my own hands, and after I had
satisfied their wants, (which is no very easy task, for they have great
appetites,) I told our servant to bring in several spare mattresses and
blankets for their use. "Now mind, Jenny, and give the old squaw the best
bed," I said; "the others are young and can put up with a little
inconvenience."