"Why, child! there is none of your mother about you," said the trapper. "When she was not more than half your age she and I wandered off into the forest, got lost, and saw no human face for fourteen days, and during that time, although we had to eat leaves, berries and roots, she never shed a tear; but if she saw I was getting sad, she would begin some funny story that was sure to get us laughing. But there are no more girls like your mother was; they are all down in the mouth at the sight of danger now; nervous they call it, I believe."
"No, no, uncle, Jane is none of that; but she is tired, and will have courage enough when rested," spoke up Edward.
"I believe it is all your work, chief; you have frightened her, she places such confidence in your wood craft that she supposes if you cannot find your way out no one can."
"My shoes are worn to shreds," said Jane, holding up the remnant of what once had been a pair of strong leather shoes, "and my feet are lacerated and bleeding. I am sure I have been patient; for, though I have been travelling with great pain, I have borne it uncomplainingly, hoping every day we should arrive at some place where relief might be obtained."
"My poor sister you shall have mine," said Edward, taking them off; "for, though much worn, and too large, yet they will be a better protection than your own."
"Young brave, put on your shoes again. I can provide the antelope[7 ] with moccasins that will be softer, and more effectually protect her feet than your shoes."
So saying, the chief took off his tunic, which was made of fawn-skin, laid it on the ground, and bade her place her foot upon it, and then drawing his hunting-knife around, cut the exact shape of her foot in the skin. Then taking some strips of leather wood he split it and twisted it into a strong thread, after which he punctured small holes with the point of his knife in the shoe he had cut, and drawing the thread through, soon had completed a pair of strong soft moccasins.
"Well done, chief," said Jane, delighted with his handy work; "I did not think of this resort to a covering, but own it is effectual and very neatly done. You must kill another fawn and I will make you a new tunic to replace the one you have spoiled."
As it was getting late they encamped on the spot, there being water but a few rods distant, and visiting it, the chief pulled from the earth some roots, at the same time crying, "Yampa! yampa!"[8 ]
"Nothing so welcome in our situation," cried the trapper. "Collect enough of them, while I try to kill some turkies that I have a glimpse of yonder."