“My Friends,—We have heard that your chief is a woman, and we know that she must be a great chief, or your country would not be so rich and so happy. (Cheers and Hear!) We have been told that the Ojibbeways went to see your queen, and that she smiled upon them; this makes us the more anxious to see her face, as the Ojibbeways are our enemies. (How, how, how!)
“My Friends,—We hope to see the face of your queen, and then we shall be happy. Our friend Chippehola[13] has told us that he thinks we shall see her. My Friends, we do not know whether there are any of her relations now in the room. (How, how, how! and a laugh.)
“My Friends,—We shall be glad to shake your hands. This is all I have to say.” (Great applause.)
At the close of his speech, and as he turned around to meet the approbation of his fellow-warriors, there was a sudden burst of laughter amongst the Indians, occasioned by the sarcastic and exulting manner in which the old Doctor told him he had better say something more before he sat down, “because,” said he, “you have not made half as much laugh yet as I did last night.” “I should be sorry if I had,” said the War-chief; “the audience always laugh the moment they see your ugly face.”
The Doctor’s troubles commenced here, for just at that moment the “fair dame” had caught the eye of the “Roman-nose,” and holding up a beautiful bracelet enclosing a brilliant stone, she tempted him up, while she clasped it upon his arm as it was extended immediately over the Doctor’s head, whose unfailing politeness induced him to bow down his head to facilitate the operation.
When the “Roman-nose” had taken his seat, and the poor Doctor had raised up his head to meet the eyes and the taunts of his fellow-Indians, who were laughing at him, and the gaze of the visitors from every quarter of the room, there was a smile, but altogether a new one, and a new word should be coined for the sudden and singular distress of the dilemma he was in: it would not do to undervalue the beautiful present that was already upon his arm, and to save his life he could not smile as pleasantly upon the fair hand that gave it as he had been smiling a few minutes before. The trinket had instantly fallen fifty per cent. in its value—the brilliant prospect that had been before him had fled, and left him in the dread, not only that his beautiful commercial prospects were blighted, but that he was to have an enemy in the field.
The Roman-nose received his present in a respectful and thankful manner, but it was too late to be affectionately accepted, as it was the second one that was afloat, and taken by him, partly as an evidence of a kind heart, and partly as a foil to cover the true meaning of the first one that had been bestowed. However, he valued it very much, and the secret respecting the mistake that had been made in presenting the first, having been committed only to Daniel and myself, was thought best, for the peace of all parties, not to be divulged.
The amusements of the evening being finished, there commenced a general shake of the hands, and when it had been requested by some of the audience that the Indians should come on to the floor, the request was instantly complied with, which afforded the most gratifying opportunity for the visitors to get near to them, and scan them and their costumes and weapons more closely. There was a general outcry by the ladies for the wife of the Little-wolf to descend from the platform with her little pappoose slung on her back in its splendid cradle, ornamented with porcupine’s quills and ermine skins. It was a beautiful illustration, and formed one of the most attractive features of the exhibition, for gentlemen as well as for ladies, as thousands will recollect.
The “jolly fat dame” had an opportunity of meeting the Roman-nose and of shaking his hand: but, “oh, the distress!” she could not speak to him as she had done to Cadotte,—it was impossible for her to explain to him the abominable mistake of the first night, and she feared he never would properly appreciate the present which she had just made him; nevertheless they were “a noble, fine set of fellows.” The Doctor passed about in the crowd shaking hands, and shaking his fan also, which was made of the eagle’s tail. He met the “fair dame,” and (cruel that he could not speak to her) he dropped many smiles as he looked down upon and over her dimpled cheeks and round neck, as he raised and showed her his brawny arm with the golden bracelet.
The Indians soon withdrew, and after them the crowd; and after the crowd the “jolly fat dame,” who said to Daniel as she passed, “I can’t stop to-night, Daniel, I am in a great hurry; but I gave the bracelet to the Roman-nose—I got a good opportunity, Daniel—I buckled it on myself: oh, yes, I did—that I did—the good fellow, he stood it well—he never stirred. He’ll recollect me, won’t he, Daniel? I am going; but oh, look here—I can’t, to save my life, make the poor fellow understand how the accident took place—it is so provoking!—it’s awkward—it is very annoying to me. You can tell him, Daniel—I wish you would tell him—I want you to explain it to him. Come, will you, Daniel? that’s a good fellow. Tell him I never intended to give a bracelet to the old Doctor. But stop, he won’t tell the Doctor that, will he? I wouldn’t for the world hurt the poor old man’s feelings—no, Daniel, not for twenty bracelets—what shall we do?” “Oh, there is no danger, Madam, that the Doctor will ever hear of it.” “You think so?” “Oh, I am sure, Madam.” “Then it’s all right—good night. I shall be here every night, you know.”