or quiet.  She must paddle the canoe for her husband—­pain and feebleness must be forgotten.  She is always hospitable.  Visit her in her teepee, and she willingly gives you what you need, if in her power; and with alacrity does what she can to promote your comfort.  In her looks there is little that is attractive.  Time has not caused the wrinkles in her forehead, nor the furrows in her cheek.  They are the traces of want, passion, sorrows and tears.  Her bent form was once light and graceful.  Labor and privations are not preservative of beauty.

Let it not be deemed impertinent if I venture to urge upon those who care for the wretched wherever their lot may be cast, the immense good that might be accomplished among these tribes by schools, which should open the minds of the young to the light of reason and Christianity.  Even if the elder members are given up as hopeless, with the young there is always encouragement.  Many a bright little creature among the Dahcotahs is as capable of receiving instruction as are the children of civilization.  Why should they be neglected when the waters of benevolence are moving all around them?

It is not pretended that all the incidents related in these stories occurred exactly as they are stated.  Most of them are entirely true; while in others the narrative is varied in order to show some prevalent custom, or to illustrate some sentiment to which these Indians are devoted.  The Sioux are as firm believers in their religion as we are in ours; and they are far more particular in the discharge of what they conceive to be the obligations required by the objects of their faith and worship.  There are many allusions to the belief and customs of the Dahcotahs that require explanation.  For this purpose I have obtained from the Sioux themselves the information required.  On matters of faith there is difference of opinion among them—­but they do not make more points of difference on religion, or on any other subject, than white people do.

The day of the Dahcotah is far spent; to quote the language of a Chippeway chief, “The Indian’s glory is passing away.”  They seem to be almost a God-forgotten race.  Some few have given the missionary reason to hope that they have been made subjects of Christian faith—­and the light, that has as yet broken in faint rays upon their darkness, may increase.  He who takes account of the falling of a sparrow, will not altogether cast away so large a portion of his creatures.  All Christian minds will wish success to the Indian missionary; and assuredly God will be true to his mercy, where man is found true to his duty.