“Yes, sir; she is one of the Chippeways; there are many divisions of them, but I will find out when she wakes again to which she belongs; she was too much exhausted when we found her, to say much.”
“It appears very inhuman leaving her to perish in that way,” observed Mrs Campbell.
“Well, ma’am, so it does; but necessity has no law. The Indians could not, if they would, have carried her, perhaps, one hundred miles. It would have, probably, been the occasion of more deaths, for the cold is too great now for sleeping out at nights for any time, although they do contrive with the help of a large fire to stay out sometimes.”
“Self-preservation is the first law of nature, certainly,” observed Mr Campbell; “but, if I recollect right, the savages do not value the life of a woman very highly.”
“That’s a fact, sir,” replied Martin; “not much more, I reckon, than you would a beast of burden.”
“It is always the case among savage nations,” observed Mr Campbell; “the first mark of civilisation is the treatment of the other sex, and in proportion as civilisation increases, so are the women protected and well used. But your supper is ready, my children, and I think after your fatigue and fasting you must require it.”
“I am almost too tired to eat,” observed Alfred. “I shall infinitely more enjoy a good sleep under my bear skins. At the same time I’ll try what I can do,” continued he, laughing, and taking his seat at table.
Notwithstanding Alfred’s observation, he contrived to make a very hearty supper, and Emma laughed at his appetite after his professing that he had so little inclination to eat.
“I said I was too tired to eat, Emma, and so I felt at the time; but as I became more refreshed my appetite returned,” replied Alfred, laughing, “and notwithstanding your jeering me, I mean to eat some more.”
“How long has John been away?” said Mr Campbell.