“Yes, ma’am, long before; there’s no saying how old he is. When I was quite a child, I recollect he was then reckoned an old man; indeed, the name the Indians gave
to him proves it. He then was called the ‘Grey Badger.’”
“But is he so very old, do you really think, Martin?”
“I think he has seen more than sixty snows, ma’am; but not many more; the fact is, his hair was grey before he was twenty years old; he told me so himself, and that’s one reason why the Indians are so fearful of him. They have it from their fathers that the Grey Badger was a great hunter, as Malachi was more than forty years ago; so they imagine as his hair was grey then, he must have been a very old man at that time back, and so to them he appears to live for ever, and they consider him as charmed, and to use their phrase ‘great medicine.’ I’ve heard some Indians declare that Malachi has seen one hundred and fifty winters, and they really believe it. I never contradicted them, as you may imagine.”
“Does he live comfortably?”
“Yes, ma’am, he does; his squaw knows what he wants, and does what she is bid. She is very fond of the old man, and looks upon him, as he really is to her, as a father. His lodge is always full of meat, and he has plenty of skins. He don’t drink spirits, and if he has tobacco for smoking, and powder and ball, what else can he want?”
“Happy are they whose wants are so few,” observed Mr Campbell. “A man in whatever position in life, if he is content, is certain to be happy. How true are the words of the poet:—
“Man wants but little here below,
Nor wants that little long!”
“Malachi Bone, is a happier man than hundreds in England who live in luxury. Let us profit, my dear children, by his example, and learn to be content with what Heaven has bestowed upon us. But it is time to retire. The wind has risen, and we shall have a blustering night. Henry, fetch me the book.”