The Travellers, Invigorated By A Good
Supper, And "Fresh From The Bath Of Repose," Were About To Resume
Their Journey, When This Affectionate Old Chief Took The Captain
Aside, To Let Him Know How Much He Loved Him.
As a proof of his
regard, he had determined to give him a fine horse, which would
go further
Than words, and put his good will beyond all question.
So saying, he made a signal, and forthwith a beautiful young
horse, of a brown color, was led, prancing and snorting, to the
place. Captain Bonneville was suitably affected by this mark of
friendship; but his experience in what is proverbially called
"Indian giving," made him aware that a parting pledge was
necessary on his own part, to prove that his friendship was
reciprocated. He accordingly placed a handsome rifle in the hands
of the venerable chief, whose benevolent heart was evidently
touched and gratified by this outward and visible sign of amity.
Having now, as he thought, balanced this little account of
friendship, the captain was about to shift his saddle to this
noble gift-horse when the affectionate patriarch plucked him by
the sleeve, and introduced to him a whimpering, whining,
leathern-skinned old squaw, that might have passed for an
Egyptian mummy, without drying. "This," said he, "is my wife; she
is a good wife - I love her very much. - She loves the horse - she
loves him a great deal - she will cry very much at losing him. - I
do not know how I shall comfort her - and that makes my heart very
sore."
What could the worthy captain do, to console the tender-hearted
old squaw, and, peradventure, to save the venerable patriarch
from a curtain lecture?
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