“I am glad to meet you,” said Mrs. Jones, kindly, to the savage. “Have you anything of importance to communicate?”
But Long Hair appeared as if something had gone wrong with him, and sat in moody silence.
“Will you not speak to me, Long Hair?” asked Mrs. Jones. “You know I’ve always treated you well–have I not?”
“White squaw good to Injin. Sojer say Injin lie; sojer call Long Hair dog; tell him go way.”
“Some of your men have ill-treated Long Hair, I’m afraid,” said Mrs. Jones to the general.
“Well,” said the general, “I’ll see that they don’t do it any more;” and, wishing to propitiate the tawny brave, he added, “perhaps Long Hair would take some dinner with us.” But the Indian wasn’t so easily appeased, and said,–
“Long Hair no beggar-dog; Long Hair shoot deer, shoot raccoon, catch fish, plenty!”
“But,” interposed Mrs. Jones, “didn’t you bring some venison to my cabin one day, and did I refuse it, Long Hair?”
“White squaw good,” he repeated; “Long Hair never forget. Long Hair sick; white 267 squaw medicine him. Long Hair kill deer for white squaw.”
“Yes,” said Mrs. Jones; “you were sick, and I took care of you, as I ought to; and you have been very kind to me and mine, and I shall never forget it.”