Then came forward the kind missionaries to the aid of their unhappy friends. How liberally they shared with them all that they possessed, striving too to quiet their minds, agitated by burning fever. They gave them medicine and food, supporting the dying mother and taking charge of the infant and the aged. They sought to assuage the agonies of exhausted nature, directing in its flight the restless spirit standing upon the borders of life to that happy place where hunger and sickness are unknown. It was on one of the warmest days of summer when my little children, with their father, crossed the St. Peter's, and advanced towards the trading establishment at Mendota. On the shores of the river one wigwam was placed, and, attracted by the groans of anguish which proceeded from it, they entered. It was O-ko-pee dying; yes, dying as he had lived, a sacrifice to the white man's rule--dying as he had lived, alone. No friend supported his aching head, which was burning with fever, or chafed the cold limbs covered with ashes. Indeed, his head was pillowed on a bed of ashes. He recognised his visiters, and seeing their young faces solemnized by what they had never before witnessed, the presence of death, he spoke to them by name, said he was sick, and asked them for medicine. It was too late for medicine or sympathy; in another hour O-ko-pee, the hunter of the Sioux, was gone for ever from the earth. [Footnote 15: It is customary, when an Indian advances towards manhood, for him to lose the name bestowed upon him in childhood, obtaining another by some peculiarity of appearance or conduct, some daring action or violent passion; thus, Sleepy Eyes, is the name of a chief among the Sioux, from the drowsy expression of his countenance.] CHEQUERED CLOUD. THE AGED SIOUX WOMAN. I would tell you of a friend of mine: She's neither rich nor fair; The snows of many winters Have bleached her raven hair. The brightness of her large black eye Has been dimmed for many years; And the furrows in her cheek were made By time and shedding tears. She is an Indian woman, And me has often told Traditions of her native land, And legends sung of old; Of battles fiercely fought and won, Of the warrior as he fell, While he tried to shield from a fearful death The wife he loved so well. Ask her whence her nation came: With a smile she will reply, "The Dacotas aye have owned this land, Where the eagle soars so high; Where Mississippi's waters flow, Through bluffs and prairies wide; Where by Minesota's sandy shore The wild rice grows beside."