“Yes, that night I entered the village was indeed a bad night for me. Evil eyes had been on Shakoona. Cunning steps had followed her, and sharp ears had heard enough of our story to find out what I was going to do next day with my valuable furs that I had been eight long moons in hunting. As I entered the outskirts of the village I was met by a young Indian with the word that the wigwam of my relatives was cold and empty, as they had not yet returned from their hunting grounds, which were in an opposite direction from the way in which I had come. Very cordial seemed the invitation of that man for me to rest that night in his wigwam, which was a large one, being made of many dressed buffalo skins sewed together.
“Without any distrust I accepted his invitation, as was the manner of our people, and was glad to unstrap my heavy load of furs, as well as my gun and traps and blanket. With much more attention than is generally shown to one thus coming in, this Indian helped me in various ways. With a good deal of show he hung up my gun and traps for me, and placed my pack of furs tightly back against the leather wall of the wigwam. In the meantime fish and venison were brought in, and a good supper was prepared and eaten. Afterward we smoked and talked for some time, and then prepared to sleep. Noticing that the wind outside was rising, he showed me a place where I could spread my blanket where there would be no draft, but it was away from my pack of furs. At first I thought I would bring my furs from the place where they had been put and place them at my head, but this I saw would give offence, and now as some young children were lying down to sleep near them, there was not enough room for me. Still a little fearful, I made an excuse and stepped out of the wigwam for a minute. There I saw that the snow was well piled up against the leather wall all around. This quieted my fears, and so I returned into the wigwam, and being very weary was soon fast asleep. In the morning my furs were gone! A thief in the night had cut through the leather, making a hole so large that he could easily and noiselessly lift out my pack of furs. He had left the upper part uncut, so that as quickly as he had obtained the pack he could let the leather down again and thus cover up the hole. For fear the wind should get in and disturb the inmates, he had quietly laid a large deerskin over the whole place on the outside. I was in a sad state the next morning, but I kept my lips closed and said but little. The Indian family were much excited and angry at the theft. The young Indian who had invited me in made a greater ado than anyone. I suspected him at once of being the one who had robbed me, but I had then no evidence, and so carefully held my tongue. But I thought a great deal, and in time I found out that he was in the plot.
“What to do I knew not. However, refusing to again eat under the wigwam where I had been so robbed, I took my gun, blanket, and traps and pushed on to the wigwam of my friends, and to my surprise found them in it, and there they had been for some days. Then I knew that that young Indian was an enemy. To my friends I told of my success, and of my loss. We set about the recovery of them at once. Runners were sent to every trading post describing the contents of the packs and telling the traders the circumstances of the robbery. There was great indignation. Such robberies are very rare. If the thieves are found out they are generally quickly poisoned by the conjurers of the tribe. That is one of the things they are expected to do. A robber of traps or furs is soon poisoned. Then the traders themselves are down on these things. So the story of the theft was soon known, but the furs were not recovered until a long time after.
“Wahbunoo was very cold and repellent. He would not believe my story, and so refused to have me come to his wigwam. So Shakoona and I had to meet when we could, and that was not often, for the father was cruel and Oosahmekoo had many spies. Still, we had many friends. Miskoodell, the little sister, was sharp and shrewd, and helped us greatly by warning us of danger. So did her brother, Netahwatee. He was a good hunter, and had friends who had seen the furs. He had been on the alert, and had found out that the young Indian who had invited me into his wigwam had, during the winter, hung around the tent and had asked Shakoona to be his wife. She had repelled him with scorn, and Netahwatee had told him that she was fond of Kinesasis, and that even now he was away in the forest hunting, to bring in sufficient rich furs to buy the consent of their father. At this news from Netahwatee, he arose and left the tent, but he ground his teeth as he went out. After that he was often seen in earnest talk with Oosahmekoo, the old chief, and it was the belief of many that they had been the ones who had planned the stealing of the furs. But they were cunning, and so covered up the tracks that a long time passed ere the truth came out. But, although some of the family were friendly toward me, the father of Shakoona turned more and more against us. The gold of the old chief was offered again and again, and at length I heard that there was a likelihood that he would yield, although Shakoona still declared that she would throw herself from the cliff into the lake rather than marry him. And this I think she would have done, for we loved each other, and do still.”
Here the old man stooped over and, tenderly lifting up the head of his aged wife, kissed her on the forehead.
“One day some little boys out hunting rabbits among the great rocks overheard some earnest talking. At first they were frightened, and were about running home when one of them, who was Shakoona’s youngest brother, proposed that they creep to the top of the rocks and try and see who the talkers were on the other side. Noiselessly they crawled to the top, and then as they peeked over whom should they see but Wahbunoo and Oosahmekoo in earnest talk? They saw the chief with a fire bag that seemed heavy and saw him offer it to Wahbunoo, who took it and held it. Then the little boys slid down the rocks and returned to the tents. Netahwatee’s little brother told what he had seen, and the brother told his mother and Miskoodell. They talked it over, and Miskoodell was sent to warn us of what was being done.
“So that very night we quietly left the and hurried to a place where Netahwatee, who had gone on some hours before, met us with a white man, a missionary. He was pleased to hear from Netahwatee that there was an Indian couple who wanted to be married by the Book, in the Christian way, and not in the old pagan Indian manner; but,” said Kinesasis, with a bit of a twinkle in his eye, “he did think it was a queer idea of ours that we wanted to be married out there in the forest by moonlight. However, as we had with us what he called witnesses, he married us. We did not then return to the village, but went off with some friendly relatives at a trading post where the Indians were all Christians. Netahwatee and the others who had been with us went back at once and told how we had met the missionary and had been married with the Book. Strange to say, when Wahbunoo heard this he said he did not care, and would not oppose us as we were married by the Book. He was very superstitious, and was afraid that evil would come to him if he seemed to be angry with anyone who had had anything to do with the Book.
“It was very different, however, with Oosahmekoo, the old chief. He was wild with anger. He made many threats. He was not as cunning as he generally was, and so he told his plans to get revenge. He was going to waylay me and kill me on the trail. Some of my friends overheard his threats, and a swift runner put me on my guard. I felt that my youth was a match for his years, and then I had won my loved Shakoona. So I had no fear. I left my wife among friends, and started on the return trail. We met in conflict, and I was not hurt. He was quietly buried the next day.”
Here Kinesasis ceased. He could say no more that night, the memory of the battle came up so vividly before him, although many years had passed away since it had occurred. Since then he and his old wife had become Christians. He paused for an instant, and then went over to the place where on the floor the heroine of his story, his true little wife, had sat during the long recital. Then tucking her arm in his, as lovingly and as affectionately as any white man could have done, they quickly slipped out of the house and returned to their own little dwelling place.