other wives had each
children at her knee, crying, "My mother!" there was none to address
her by that tender name, and to lisp in childish tones its delight,
when she returned from the labours of the field of maize--and to
bestow its innocent caresses upon her after the separations which
unavoidably take place in forest life. Thence arose the extreme
harshness of her husband, and the continued sneers and gibes of the
wives who had been blest with offspring. The good Namata-washta bore
their ill usage for a long time without repining; but, at length, the
oft-repeated cruelties of her husband and the incessant insults of her
companions became so painful, that she was wont to fly from them to
the solitude of the forest.

One evening, she wandered out from the cabin of her husband until she
came to the nearest of the two small hills, of which I have been
telling my brother. Upon this hill she seated herself, and was
occupied in bewailing her fatal misfortune of barrenness, and in
praying the Great Spirit to avert it, when some one whispered at her
shoulder, "Namata-washta!"

Looking up, she beheld a tall woman clothed in a long and flowing robe
of white goat-skin; her mocassins were of a blood-red colour; her eyes
were black as the shell of the butter-nut; her hair, which was also
black, was dressed with gay flowers. After surveying the weeping
Namata-washta for some time in silence, and with an appearance of much
compassion, she said to her in a gentle voice, "Woman, why art thou
weeping?"

"I am weeping," replied the poor Indian woman, "because I have borne
my husband no children!"

"And therefore thou weepest, deluded and infatuated woman! Rather
shouldst thou rejoice that thou hast not contributed to swell the
amount of human suffering. Happier far is she who has added nothing,
in respect of children, to the sum of human misery, than she who has
become a mother, to see her offspring perish in the strife of
warriors, or of hunger, or wretchedness, or wasting disease. That thou
hast given birth to no heirs of misery should afford thee joy, rather
than sorrow, Namata-washta!"

"But therefore I am held of little account, and of no value in the
house of my husband. My place is usurped by those who have children;
the other wives of my husband demand and exercise the right to impose
hard and disgraceful burdens upon me, because I am barren. My husband
beats me with blows, his wives assail me with taunts and
reproaches