t she
would bring me plenty of prepared bass-wood bark to twist into twine.
She told me she would come to see me, in two days, and that in the
mean time I must not even taste snow.

"I did as directed; at the end of two days she came to see me. I
thought she would surely bring me something to eat, but to my
disappointment she brought nothing. I suffered more from _thirst_ than
hunger, though I felt my stomach gnawing. My mother sat quietly down
and said (after ascertaining that I had not tasted anything), 'My
child, you are the youngest of your sisters, and none are now left me
of all my sons and children, but you _four_' (alluding to her two elder
sisters, herself and a little son, still a mere lad). 'Who,' she
continued, 'will take care of us poor women? Now, my daughter, listen
to me, and try to obey. Blacken your face and fast _really_, that the
Master of Life may have pity on you and me, and on us all. Do not, in
the least, deviate from my counsels, and in two days more, I will come
to you. He will help you, if you are determined to do what is right,
and tell me, whether you are favored or not, by the _true_ Great
Spirit; and if your visions are not good, reject them.' So saying, she
departed.

"I took my little hatchet and cut plenty of wood, and twisted the cord
that was to be used in sewing _ap-puk-way-oon-un_, or mats for the use
of the family. Gradually I began to feel less appetite, but my thirst
continued; still I was fearful of touching the snow to allay it, by
sucking it, as my mother had told me that if I did so, though
secretly, the Great Spirit would see me, and the lesser spirits also,
and that my fasting would be of no use. So I continued to fast till
the fourth day, when my mother came with a little tin dish, and
filling it with snow, she came to my lodge, and was well pleased to
find that I had followed her injunctions. She melted the snow, and
told me to drink it. I did so, and felt refreshed, but had a desire
for more, which she told me would not do, and I contented myself with
what she had given me. She again told me to get and follow a good
vision--a vision that might not only do us good, but also benefit
mankind, if I could. She then left me, and for two days she did not
come near me, nor any human being, and I was left to my own
reflections. The night of the sixth day, I fancied a voice called to
me, and said: 'Poor child! I pity your condition; come, you are
invited this way;' and I though