Here little Gene drew forth from his sleeve a piece of parchment, which he handed to his mother.
The lady was obliged to call to her aid the priest, who read slowly:—
“Thou careless woman, guard this treasure more securely, lest he fall a second time into the hands of Montfort.”
“Holy St. Denis! it was that fierce robber,” said the lady.
IX.
THE KING WILL HUNT TO-DAY.
This story was told by an Indian mother to her children, while the wind whirled and twisted the snow into great heaps against the walls of the tepee.
“This that I will tell you happened many years ago, before the white man was here, and when the red man owned all the vast prairies and deep woods, the great lakes and broad rivers of this land. The red man ruled over every living animal, save the great bear, who dwelt in the dim vastness of the forest, and the gaunt wolves, who submitted to the rule of a king, strong and terrible.
“One winter the frost came early; the rivers were frozen solid; the snow covered the nuts under the trees and the roots that were eatable. The animals sought their dens and burrows, and the earth slept the death-sleep. All living things suffered, the red men most of all; there was fasting and sorrow in all the tepees—in all save one, where lived the Wolf-Maiden and her mother. Their tepee was warm and bright—warm with the furs of animals, bright with the light of great dry logs blazing on the fire. The daughter was plump and rosy, for she had plenty of food; but the mother was thin and pale, and sat all day with her face hidden on her knees, in the corner of the tepee. Every night the daughter called the mother to come with her; and the mother followed, trembling, not daring to disobey. Those who watched them saw them disappear in the starlight, across the wide, snow-covered prairie, taking the direction of the ravine, where were the dens of the Wolf-King and his old wolf-mother. They would return heavily laden with meat and furs; and frequently the mother bent under a great load of logs. Often when the children of the village, hollow-eyed and pale, would come near the tepee, scenting the fragrance of the broiling meat, the maiden would snatch from the fire a portion and offer it to the little ones; but it was rejected with horror; for the mothers had told the children that the meat was bewitched, and if they ate of it they would be turned into wolves.
“The Wolf-Maiden was looked upon with fear; for it was said that in the long summer evenings she had been seen playing and romping with the old mother-wolf and the young Wolf-King; while her Indian mother, from a distant hill, watched her, and wrung her hands for fear. So all the girls of the tribe shunned her, and the young men feared her greatly.