gnorant of the nature of her interview with her husband, though the
quick and sharpened wits of the latter led her to suspect a truth, to
which the entire innocence of the former furnished no clue. They were
both, however, about to tender those sympathies, which are so natural
to, and so graceful in the sex, when their necessity seemed suddenly to
cease. The convulsions in the features of the young Sioux disappeared,
and her countenance became cold and rigid, like chiselled stone. A
single expression of subdued anguish, which had made its impression on
a brow that had rarely before contracted with sorrow, alone remained. It
was never removed, in all the changes of seasons, fortunes, and years,
which, in the vicissitudes of a suffering, female, savage life, she was
subsequently doomed to endure. As in the case of a premature blight, let
the plant quicken and revive as it may, the effects of that withering
touch were always present.

Tachechana first stripped her person of every vestige of those rude but
highly prized ornaments, which the liberality of her husband had been
wont to lavish on her, and she tendered them meekly, and without a
murmur, as an offering to the superiority of Inez. The bracelets
were forced from her wrists, the complicated mazes of beads from her
leggings, and the broad silver band from her brow. Then she paused,
long and painfully. But it would seem, that the resolution, she had
once adopted, was not to be conquered by the lingering emotions of any
affection, however natural. The boy himself was next laid at the feet
of her supposed rival, and well might the self-abased wife of the Teton
believe that the burden of her sacrifice was now full.

While Inez and Ellen stood regarding these several strange movements
with eyes of wonder, a low soft musical voice was heard saying in a
language, that to them was unintelligible--

"A strange tongue will tell my boy the manner to become a man. He will
hear sounds that are new, but he will learn them, and forget the voice
of his mother. It is the will of the Wahcondah, and a Sioux girl should
not complain. Speak to him softly, for his ears are very little; when he
is big, your words may be louder. Let him not be a girl, for very sad is
the life of a woman. Teach him to keep his eyes on the men. Show him
how to strike them that do him wrong, and let him never forget to return
blow for blow. When he goes to hunt, the flower of the Pale-faces," she
concluded,