Reginald and his sister were equally at a loss to understand his
meaning; both looked inquiringly at the guide, who was rubbing his
ear, as if rather puzzled by the young Delaware’s answer. At length
he said, “Why, Miss Lucy, you see, much of what the lad says is as
plain to me as the sight on my rifle: for the tribes of the Lenapé
are as well known to me as the _totems_ of the Oggibeways. The Great
nation is divided into three tribes:—the Minsi, or the Wolf–tribe
(sometimes called also Puncsit, or round–foot); the Unalacticos, or the
Turkey–tribe; and the _Unamis_, or the Tortoise–tribe. The last are
considered the principal and most ancient; and as Wingenund’s family
are of this band, he spoke just now of their wise men. But who, or what
kin’ o’ crittur this Prairie–bird can be, would puzzle a Philadelphy
lawyer to tell, let alone a poor hunter who knows little out of the
line of his trade.”
“Then, Baptiste,” said Lucy, smiling; “your trade is a pretty extensive
one, for I think you have more knowledge in your head on most subjects
than half the lawyers and clerks in the territory.”
“There it is, Miss Lucy; you’re always a givin’ me a little dose of
flattery, just as I give my patches a bit of grease to make the Doctor
swallow his lead pills. You ladies think we’re all alike,—young
sparks, and tough old chaps like me,—if you do but dip your fingers
into the honey–pot, you know we shall lick them as soon as your backs
are turned! But it is getting late,” he added, rising from his seat;
“and I have much to say to this youth, who is already tired; with your
leave, Miss, I will retire with him, and see that he has a comfortable
sleeping quarter, and that he wants for nothing.”
“Pray do so,” said Lucy; “let him be treated as if he were one of our
own family. I am sure, dear papa, such would be your wish,” she added,
turning to her father.
“It is indeed, my child,” said the Colonel. “Wingenund, again I beg you
to receive a father’s best thanks for your brave defence of his son.”
“It was nothing,” replied the boy modestly. “You are all good, too
good to Wingenund; when he gets to the Far Prairie, he will tell the
Prairie–bird and the Black Father to speak to the Great Spirit, that He
may smile on my white father and on my brother; and,” he added, slowly
raising his dark eloquent eyes to Lucy’s face, “that he may send down
pleasant sunshine and refreshing dew on the Lily of Mooshanne.” So
saying, he turned and left the room, accompanied by the guide.
“Well,” exclaimed the Colonel, as the youth disappeared, “they may call
that lad a savage; but his feelings, ay, and his manners too, would put
to shame those of many who think themselves fine gentlemen.”
“He is, indeed, a noble young fellow,” said Reginald, “and worthy to be
the relative and pupil of my Indian brother. I would that you had seen
_him_, father: you are in general rather sceptical as to the qualities
of the red–skins. I think the War–Eagle would surprise you!”
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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