No. 16.
“Well, Jim,” said I, “what do you think of the King, Louis Philippe?” He reached for the pipe, and taking a puff or two handed it to the Doctor, and rolling over on to his back, and drawing up his knees, said, “I think he is a great man and a very good man. I believe he is a much greater chief than the Queen of England, and that he governs his people much better, because we don’t see so many poor people in the streets—we think that his people all have enough to eat. His wigwam is very grand and very bright, and his chickabobboo the best that we have had. We did not see the King with his fine dress on, but as his servants all around him were beautifully dressed, like gentlemen, we know that the King and Queen must look very elegant when they are in full dress. We saw the King’s two sons, and he told us that his grandson was to be the King when he dies—now we don’t understand this!” It seemed that his teacher, Daniel, had overlooked the doctrine of descents during their close investigations of the statistics and politics of England, and the poor fellow was yet quite in the dark to know “how a grandson (a mere child) would be taken in case of the King’s death, instead of one of his sons, either of whom he said he thought would make a very good king if he would take a trip for a year or two, as his father did, on the Mississippi and Missouri, amongst the different tribes of Indians.” This was considered a pretty clever thing for Jim to say, and it raised a laugh amongst the Indians; he was encouraged to go on, and turned his conversation upon the gold and silver medals, with which he was very much pleased. They were delighted with the idea that the King’s portrait was on one side, and that he was to have their names engraved on the other; and they were not less delighted when I told them that the gentleman who had come in with me and was now sitting by my side, had come from the King to bear them some other token of his Majesty’s attachment to them. The object of his visit being thus made known to them, he turned out into the lap of the chief 500 francs to be divided according to their custom. This of course put a stop to conversations about descents and Palaces, &c., for the time, and all went to counting until it was divided into thirteen parcels, one of which for the interpreter. Jeffrey, however, very kindly surrendered his share, and insisted that they should divide it all amongst themselves. It was accordingly made into twelve parcels, each one, old and young, taking an equal share, according to the Indian mode of dividing in all the tribes I have visited.
The War-chief rose and addressed the young man who was commissioned to bear the present to them:—
“My Friend, we have seen your King (our Great Father) this day, and our hearts were made glad that we were allowed to see his face. We now receive the token of his friendship which he has sent through your hands, and our hearts are again glad. (‘How, how, how!’)
“My Friend, we wish you to say to the King, our Great Father, that we are thankful for his kindness, and that we shall pray that the Great Spirit may be kind to him and his children.
“My Friend, we are all much obliged to you, and we shall be glad to offer you the pipe with us. (‘How, how, how!’)”
The pipe was passed a few times around, with some further anecdotes of their visit to the palace, when the messenger arose and took leave of them. In counting the money, Jim had lost his attitude, so there was little more of the sentimental from him, as the conversation was running upon the King’s bounty, rather than his greatness, or the splendour of things they had seen during the day. From the liberal additions to their private purse while in Dublin, and by what they were now receiving, they were beginning to feel a little purse proud. Jim was talking of having a brick house to live in when he got home, and the Doctor of heading a war party to go against the Ojibbeways. The War-chief told him he had better pay his debts first, and that he had slain enough in his own tribe, without going amongst his enemies for the purpose. The Little Wolf was going to get money enough to buy thirty horses, and lead a war party against his old enemies, the Pawnees; but Mr. Melody reminded him that he was to go to war no more, as he had “buried the tomahawk in his Majesty’s hands.”