the product of his
hunt at the feet of his wife, and again the silent females began to
tear off the flesh as before, though with still greater rudeness and
ill-breeding. The patience of the wife was completely lost, she could
no longer controul her feelings, and suffered the thought to pass her
mind, "Their conduct is certainly very strange! how can I bear with it
any longer!" She did not, however, give utterance to her feelings in
words. But an immediate change was seen in the females. They became
unusually reserved, and gave evident signs of being uneasy in their
situation. The good hunter immediately perceived this change, and,
fearful that they had taken offence, so soon as they had retired to
rest, he enquired of his wife whether any harsh expression had escaped
her lips during the day. She replied that she had uttered nothing to
give the least offence. He now tried to compose himself to sleep, but
he felt restless and uneasy, for he could plainly hear the sighs and
half-smothered lamentations of the two females. Every moment added to
his conviction that his guests had taken deep offence, and, as he
could not banish this idea from his mind, he raised himself on his
couch, and addressed the sobbing inmates thus:

"Tell me, ye women that have so long been the inmates of my lodge,
what is it that causes you pain of mind, and makes you unceasingly
utter these sighs? Has the wife of my bosom given you any cause of
offence while I was absent in the chase? My fears persuade me that, in
some unguarded moment, she has forgotten what is due to the rights of
hospitality, and used expressions ill befitting the mysterious
character which you seem to sustain. Tell me, ye strangers from a
strange country--ye women who appear to be not of this world--what is
it that causes you pain of mind, and makes you utter these unceasing
sighs?"

"It is not for this that we weep; it is not for this that we sigh,"
replied the mysterious women. "No unkind expressions have been used
towards us since our residence in your hospitable lodge. We have
received from you all the affectionate attentions which we could
expect, far more than could reasonably be asked of one who procures
his food and supports his family by a life of incessant toil and
labour. We thank you for all your kindness. No, it is not for this: it
is not for ourselves that we weep. We are weeping for the fate of
mankind. We are weeping for the fate of mortals whom death awaits at