Suddenly she did a very surprising thing, for an Indian woman. When she believed that she was to be left out of the sightseeing party, she wept.
“Why you want to go?” scolded Chaboneau. “Ze capitaines no haf time to wait for woman with baby. You stay by ze lodge fire; dat is place for womans.”
Sa-ca-ja-we-a tilted her chin at him and went straight to Captain Clark.
“Capitin! I speak a leetle.”
“What is it, Sa-ca-ja-we-a?”
“I come long way, capitin. I carry baby, I cold, hungry, wet, seeck, I keep up an’ I no complain. I show you trail; when you no know which way, I say ‘Snake people here,’ an’ you find Snakes. When Indians see me, dey say: ‘Dis no war party,’ an’ dey kind to you. When you get hungry for bread, I gif you one leetle bit I carry all way from Mandan town, so you can taste. When you want otter robe, I gif you my belt, an’ you get otter robe. I been here all dis time, an’ I not yet go near de big water dat I travel many days to see. Now dere is a big fish; odders go, Chaboneau say I mus’ stay an’ care for Toussaint an’ help cook. I feel bad, capitin—I—I——” and poor little Bird-woman hid her face in her shawl and sobbed.
The captain placed his hand kindly upon her shoulder.
“You shall go, Sa-ca-ja-we-a. You shall go with us and see the ocean and the big fish; and Chaboneau can stay by the fire and tend to the baby.”
Sa-ca-ja-we-a smiled and dried her eyes. Very proud, she made ready. But Chaboneau went, too—because he, likewise, wished to inspect the great wonder which had been cast ashore.
The whale was 105 feet long. The busy Indians had stripped it to the bones, and with difficulty Captain Clark managed to buy 300 pounds of blubber and some oil.