anxiety and kindness of the Indian women. Some brought her tea made of herbs and roots to quench her burning thirst; others rested in an adjoining room, while one or more watched every word and motion. Her patience under severe suffering was very great. All fear of death was taken away; and when we knelt around her bed in prayer, her fervent "Amen" was often heard, and she evidently joined in spirit while her friends were singing that beautiful and appropriate hymn,
"On Jordan's stormy banks I stand," &c.
On the morning of Nov. 3d, 1833, her happy soul took wing for that better land where
"Sickness, sorrow, pain, and death
Are felt and fear'd no more."
At her funeral, not only all the Indians, but many of the white inhabitants, from the settlements around attended. It was indeed an occasion of deep sorrow to commit to the silent grave one so young and beloved. Who that ever witnessed such a scene but would pray that this good religion, which had so exalted her, might be extended to all the tribes of the forest, till every Indian
charge, as Mr. J. Jones could not consent to allow his dear little daughter to accompany her friends to such a distant shore.
