She had given her a cup of cold water and what
food her log-cabin afforded, and in return the good Indian took her to her
wigwam and fed, and warmed, and cherished her with the loving-kindness of
a Christian; and during all her sojourn in the Indian camp she was as a
tender mother over her, drying her tears and showing her those little
acts of attention that even the untaught Indians know are grateful to the
sorrowful and destitute. Catharine often forgot her own griefs to repay
this worthy creature's kindness, by attending to her little babe and
assisting her in some of her homely preparations of cookery or household
work. She knew that a selfish indulgence in sorrow would do her no good,
and after the lapse of some days she so well disciplined her own heart as
to check her tears at least in the presence of the Indian women, and to
assume an air of comparative cheerfulness. Once she found Indian words
enough to ask the Indian widow to convey her back to the lake, but she
shook her head and bade her not think anything about it; and added, that in
the fall, when the ducks came to the rice-beds, they should all return, and
then if she could obtain leave from the chief, she would restore her to
her lodge on the plains; but signified to her that patience was her only
present remedy, and that submission to the will of the chief was her wisest
plan.
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