The old warriour rising to take his leave for the night, held his hands over her head, and pronounced in deep tones the blessing of his nation. This he retained probably from early associations, though he was now the disciple of a better faith.
"The Great Spirit, who dwelleth where the Sun hideth himself, and where the tempest is born, guide thee with strength. He who maketh the earth fruitful, and the sky bright, and the heart of man glad, smile on thee, and give thee rest."
Martha remained to render some attentions to the sufferer. She removed her gently from her reposing seat to the bed, gave her an infusion which was useful to repel inflamination, and quiet restlesness. But she dared not trust her voice beyond a whisper, lest it should yield wholly to her emotion. After her services were completed, she lingered, as if unwilling to leave the pillow of the sufferer.
"Mother!" said the broken voice, "kind, tender mother, go to thy rest. Oriana hath now no pain. Sleep will descend upon her. She will not leave thee this night. But soon she must begin her journey to the land of souls. What then? She hath hope in her death, to pass from darkness to eternal sunshine. Weep not, mother! but lift your heart to the Father of consolation. I believe that whither I go, thou shalt come also. I shall return no more; but thou and thy beloved shall come unto me. There will be scarcely time to mourn, ere, like the gliding of a shadow, the parents shall follow their child."
