Nor did her strength fail her, until she reached her home; then, insensible to sorrow and fatigue, she sunk to the earth.
The women relieved her from the burden, and afterwards helped her to bury her dead.
Many waters could not quench her love, nor could the floods drown it.

It was strong as death.
Well might she sit in her lodge and weep! The village where she passed her childhood and youth was deserted.

Her husband forgotten by all but herself.

Her two sons were murdered by the Chippeways, while defending their mother and their young brother.
Well might she weep! and tremble too, for death among the Dahcotahs comes as often by the fire water purchased from the white people, as from the murderous tomahawk and scalping-knife of the Chippeways.
Nor were her fears useless; she never again saw her son, until his body was brought to her, his dark features stiff in death.

The death blow was given, too, by the friend who had shamed him from listening to his mother's voice.
* * * * * What wonder that she should not heed the noise of the tempest! The storms of her life had been fiercer than the warring of the elements.
But while the fountains of heaven were unsealed, those of her heart were closed forever.