The Minneapolis journal. [volume] (Minneapolis, Minn.) 1888-1939, 1902-09-04

conscious, after DOCtOr Chantry nad
bandaged his head and bled him, I
Went in to see If might be of use. He was
like someone I had seen, but 1 did not
know him until a moment ago. He ran
out of the house like q wild Indian. Then
he saw us sitting there. and came and fell
down on his knees at sight Of that missal.
saw his scars. He claimed the book as
his mother's-and you know, count, it
was his mothers!''
My dear child, whenever an Indian
wants a present he dreams that you give
it to him, or he claims it. Chief Williams
boy wanted your valuable Illuminated book
! 1 only wonder he had the taste. The rings
| on your hands are more to an Indians
liking
as white as we are"
That signifies nothing. Plenty Of white
children have been brought up among the
tribes. Chief Williams grandmother,
| have heard, was Yankee woman
Not one word of their rapid talk es-
capped an ear trained to faintest noises in
the woods. 1 felt like a tree, we'll set up
and sound, but rooted and voiceless in my
ignorant helplessness before the two so
frankly considering me.
My father stopped when he saw Mad
anne de Terrier, and called to me in Iro-
quois. 1t was plain that he and Doctor
Chantry disagreed. Skenedonk, put out Of
countenance by my behavior, and the
stubbornness Of the chief looked ready to
lay his hand upon his mouth in sign of
being COMPOUNDED before white men; for
his learning had altered none Of his in
herited instincts.
But as for me, was as De Chaumont
had said, Chief Williams boy, faint from
bloodetting and twentyfour hours fast
ing; and the fathers command reminded
me of the mothers dinner pot. I stood up
fhn Gil oho
around me- 1t would have been easier to
| walk on burning Goals, but 7 felt obliged
to return the book to Madame de Ferrier
She would not take it. I closed her grasp
upon it, and STOPPING, saluted her hand
with courtesy as De Chaumont had done.
If he had roared I must have done this de-
voir. But all he did was to widen his eyes
and strike his leg with his riding whip.
My father and I seldom talked. An In
dian boy who lives in water and forest all
| summer and on snowshoes all winter, finds
talk enough in the natural world without
falling back upon his family. Dignified
manners were not lacking among my eld-
ers, but speech had seemed OF little ac-
count to me before this day.
| The chief padded and sat naked in our
canoe-for we left the Powered robe with
horse-boy at the stables-the sun warm
| upon my skin, the lakes blue glamor at
fecting me like enchantment.
| Neither love nor aversion was asso-
ciated with my father. I took my head
between my hands and tried to remember
face that was associated with aversion
Father" inquired, was anybody ever
| very cruel to me?"
He looked startled, but spoke harshly.
What have you got in your head
These white people have been making a
fool Of you.'
7 remember better to-day than ever
remembered before. I different. I
| was a child; but to-day manhood has
come. Father, what is a dauphin?''
The chief made no answer.
What is a temple? Is 1t church,
like ours at st. Regis?'
ASK the priest
do you know what Bourbon is, father,
particularly Bourbon ear?"
| Nothing that concerns YOU"
But how could I have a Bourbon ear
if it didn't concern me?''
who said you had such an carp
! Madame de Ferrier."
The chief grunted.
LAT least she told De Chaumont," re-
peated exactly, Il was the boy she saw
in London, that her father said had all
the traits Of the Bourbons. Where is
London?"
The chief padded without replying
Finding him so ignorant on all points OF
| the conversation, or so determined to put
me down. I gazed awhile at our shadow
gliding in the water, and then began
again.
Father, do you happen to know who
Bonaparte is?''
This time he answered.
| "Bonaparte is a great soldier"
us he a white man or an Indian?"
He is Frenchnan."
I meditated on the Frenchmen I dimly
remembered about St. Regis. They were
understood fellows. very apt to weep wher
their emotions were stirred. could whiI
them all.
Did he ever come to st. Regis?"
The chief again grunted.
r Does France come TO St. Regis?" he
retorted with an impatient question.
What is France, father?'
IA country
Shall we. ever go there to hunt?'
Shall we ever go the other side of the
sunrise to hunt? France is the other side
Of the sunrise. Talk to the squaws.'
Though rebuked, I determined to do i
if any information could be got out O
them. The desire to know things was con
Stunning. I had the belated feeling of ont
who walked to consciousness late in lif,
and found the world had run away from
him. The camp seemed strange, as if
had been gone many years, but every OBJ
ject was so wonderfully distinct.
My mother Marianne fed me, and whe,