Her companion complied, and thought these words, though she spoke them not, “good as thou art pretty, Miskwa, may my fortune never betide thee.” Miskwa being now ready, tripped out, as graceful and pretty a figure as eyes ever beheld, and though not fashionably, she was beautifully dressed. Closely muffling her neck was turned a rich fur, as pure in whiteness as the fresh fallen snow, and which formed a beautiful contrast with the jet black glossy hair which fell far below it. Her cap was formed of the richest beaver, and that so tastefully fashioned, that a maiden alone could have made it. She was a sweet creature, and many a lassie who can boast the refinements of civilization was far less interesting than the maid of the forest.
The captive went to the door, to see her labour her way through the snow; but away she ran, like the bounding roe of the forest, and as playful, and as happy, as though she were only running for pastime. With so much cheerfulness did she hurry on to fulfil a dream. Yet there was a holier purpose, it was to relieve the sufferings of a mother and a friend.
Now, if the nature of her errand seems incompatible with the gentleness of her sex, and the delicate formation of her frame, I pray you, gentle reader, be not startled, for we are the creatures of habit, and Miskwa had been trained to exercises of this kind from her infancy; and if any fears should arise in your bosom as to the result of the conflict, let me endeavour to allay them, as Miskwa did her own, by saying, “one who shot so well, need fear no danger.” And if, still unsatisfied, you should wonder that Miskwa, with so much alacrity, would in such a season venture forth, merely to fulfil a dream, let me say, that she lived surrounded by superstition, and that her mother's dream was to her, pretty much what an authenticated statement would be to one in civilized life; and furthermore, that Netnokwa, though she had detailed a dream, always endeavoured to produce ordinary events by supernatural means, and consequently, what she had detailed as a dream, was but knowledge gained by previous labour.
The captive having watched until Miskwa was lost to her view, entered the lodge, and with much anxiety in her manner, said, “Mother, will no harm come to Miskwa?”
“The Great Spirit will take care of his good children,” said Netnokwa, “Miskwa is a good child.”
“But will not the beast she is gone to seek, harm her?” said the captive.
“It will not bite so much as hunger,” said Netnokwa. “Miskwa is prudent; fear not, daughter.”
I know not why, but at the close of this speech, the captive sat down and wept, while Netnokwa prepared to enlarge the fire. A few hours passed, and Miskwa returned successful from the chase, having found a bear in such a place as the one described. Plenty was now in their wigwam, and game soon after becoming abundant, they remained until the melting of the snow enabled them to proceed on their journey to Red River, which flows into Lake Winnipeek, whither they were now bound, and where, at the period of our narrative, Netnokwa resided.1