l. She expostulated in the kindest terms;
entreated him with all the arguments which undisguised love and the
purest conjugal affection could suggest. She replied to all the
objections he had raised, and endeavoured to dispel all the clouds
his seemingly disinterested kindness had thrown over her present
situation. Desirous of winning her from her opposition, he concealed
the secret of his union with another, while she redoubled her care and
exertion, to convince him that she was equal to all the tasks imposed
upon her by his increasing reputation and notoriety. When he again
spoke on the subject, she pleaded all the endearments of their past
life; she spoke of his former kindness for her, of his regard for her
happiness, and that of their mutual offspring; she bade him beware of
the fatal consequences of this purpose of his. Finding her bent upon
withholding her consent to his plan, he informed her that all
opposition on her part was unavailing, as he had already selected
another partner; and that, if she could not see his new wife as a
friend, she must receive her as a necessary incumbrance, for he was
resolved that she should be an inmate in his house. The poor Dark-Day
heard these words in silent consternation. Watching her opportunity,
she stole away from the cabin with her infants, and fled to her
father, who lived at a considerable distance from the place of her
husband's residence. With him she remained until a party of Dahcotahs
went up the Mississippi, on a winter's hunt. Not caring whither she
went, so it was not to the lodge of her faithless husband, she
accompanied them. All hope had left her bosom, and even her interest
in her children had faded with the decay of the impassioned love she
had felt for their father. The world, the simple pleasures of Indian
life, had no farther charm for Ampato Sapa. She would wander for
hours, listless and tearful, by the shaded river bank, or gaze in the
night with a distracted look upon the silver moon and star-lit sky. At
times, as if fearful of impending pursuit, she would snatch up her
children, and rush out into the woods. The Red Man of the forest has a
kind of instinctive veneration for madness(1) in every form; the mere
supposition of such a misfortune has procured the liberation of a
victim bound to the stake, whom no arts or persuasion could operate to
save. The people of her tribe saw, with deep commiseration, the
seeming aberration of intellect of the poor India