Not unmindful of her first duties, those which lie in her province alone, she can go on towards that exalted state of perfection of which the soul is capable, though not to be attained here. Religion, that teaches her "that the price of a virtuous woman is far above rubies," also commends her that "she openeth her mouth with wisdom." We find her in the sacred history not only the friend, the mother, and the wife, but the poet, the heroine, the prophetess, and even the judge. But among Indian nations we find her position more than equivocal. Her influence is undoubted in the domestic relations, but she is still a slave. She was born to labour--what merit then in her strongest efforts! She is an inferior--how then can she hope for justice? Among the Sioux, the men appear indeed to be a superior class of beings. They are noble-looking, while the women are often repelling in appearance. The difficulties with which they must contend in the harsh climate of their country; their poverty increasing year after year; their frequent and long fastings: these all make the men more hardy, more capable of a continued struggle, but they have a different effect upon the women. They are compelled to remain in the lodge; the care of their children obliges them to forego the excitement of seeking for food, and thus sickness and even death is often brought upon them that could otherwise have been avoided. They are often found buried in the snow in winter, prevented by sickness from making such efforts as saved the lives of their husbands and brothers. But their noble courage, where the emotions of the heart are concerned, gives them the first place in the romantic traditions of their country. The Sioux will soon have taken a farewell look of the lands which the Great Spirit gave them in the olden time. The lodge and its occupants are vanishing away. The occasional war-whoop will soon be forgotten where it has been heard in unrecorded ages. The scenes of many a romantic tradition will be forgotten by those who succeed the valiant but doomed people, who must look upon them no more. The hunter and his wild steed depart, and the white man, the axe, the plough, and the powder-horn take their place.[21] The fairy-rings[22] on the prairie must be trodden down. Spirits will no more assemble where are heard the noise and excitement of advancing civilization. The same sun gilds the hills, the same breezes play upon the waters--but the red man must go. He must, with his heart full of patriotism and sorrow, find another site for his lodge, another country for his hunting-grounds. The wakeen-stone to which he was sacrificed is no longer his. The graves of his ancestors reproach him as he departs.