"Yes, ma'am, he does; his squaw knows what he wants, and does what she
is bid. She is very fond of the old man, and looks upon him, as he
really is to her, as a father. His lodge is always full of meat, and he
has plenty of skins. He don't drink spirits, and if he has tobacco for
smoking, and powder and ball, what else can he want?"
"Happy are they whose wants are so few," observed Mr Campbell. "A man
in whatever position in life, if he is content, is certain to be happy.
How true are the words of the poet:--
"Man wants but little here below,
Nor wants that little long!"
"Malachi Bone, is a happier man than hundreds in England who live in
luxury. Let us profit, my dear children, by his example, and learn to
be content with what Heaven has bestowed upon us. But it is time to
retire. The wind has risen, and we shall have a blustering night.
Henry, fetch me the book."
CHAPTER TWENTY.
THE SQUAW SAVED.
Alfred and Martin brought in the wolf which Emma had killed, but it was
frozen so hard, that they could not skin it. Poor little Trim was also
carried in, but the ground was too hard frozen for them to bury the
body, so they put it into the snow until the spring, when a thaw would
take place. As for the wolf, they said nothing about it, but they
remained up when the rest of the family retired, and after the wolf had
been some time before the fire, they were able to take off the skin.
On the following morning, when the hunters went out, they were
particularly desired to shoot a wild turkey if they could, as the next
day was Christmas-day.
"Let us take Oscar with us," said Alfred; "he is very swift, and may run
them down; we never can get up with them in our snow-shoes."
"I wonder whether they will get a turkey," said Emma, after the hunting
party had left.
"I think it will be difficult," said Mrs Campbell; "but they will try
all they can."
"I hope they will; for Christmas-day without a turkey will be very
un-English."
"We are not in England, my dear Emma," said Mr Campbell; "and wild
turkeys are not to be ordered from the poulterer's."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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