As it pains me to write, I must close
with a few words. I have frequently thought, should I be bereft of my
_mother_, what other friend, like her, would watch over the uneasy hours
of sickness? What other friend would bear its petulance, and smooth its
feverish pillow?"
This proved to be her last earthly message to me. She died on the 12th
of April, 1829, aged twenty-three.
_18th_. I, this day, had an official visit from Magisaunikwa
(Wampum-hair), a Chippewa Indian, who, recently, rescued the Inspector
of Customs of the place, John Agnew, Esq., from drowning. This gentleman
was returning from Mackinac, on the ice, with a _train de glis_, drawn
by dogs. Having ascended the straits to the rapids of the South Nebishe
channel, he found the ice faulty and rotten, and, after some exertions
to avoid the bad places, fell in, with train and dogs. The struggle to
get out only involved him worse, and, overcome by fatigue and false
footings, he at length gave over the strife, and, but as a last resort,
uttered a yell.
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