"I speak of the Knight of the Golden Melice, of him whom the Indians call Soog-u-gest, or the eagle. I had left his lodge but a short time when Heaven sent thee to my aid."
"The tall, white chief, men say, is not like other white men. He loves the forest children, and they love him."
"Love begets love, and one noble quality attracts another. But it is my turn, Waqua, to show you hospitality; and to a strong, healthy fellow like you, dinner, methinks, can never come amiss."
The meal which, upon the order of Arundel, was served up, seemed to meet with the unqualified approbation of the Indian. Yet this is an inference derived, not from the manner in which he partook of the repast, but from the quantity which he ate. Although unacquainted with the mode of using a knife and fork, and, therefore, compelled to depend upon the instruments furnished by nature, there was nothing in his conduct that resembled ill-breeding. He accepted, with a grave courtesy, whatever was offered, eating deliberately, and expressing no preference for one thing over another. His entertainer fancied that, from time to time, he cast a stolen glance, as if watching motions in order to accommodate himself to them. However that may be, the young white man was greatly pleased with the untutored politeness of his red companion, and desirous to please him in all respects, did not deny his guest the stimulus of strong water; taking care, nevertheless, that the wine drunk should be in too small quantities to affect him injuriously. Of this, Waqua partook with peculiar zest, and it is fortunate that he had one more prudent than himself to stop him before temperate indulgence became excess. For so great is the delight which the Indian temperament derives from the use of intoxicating drinks, that it is difficult to regulate the appetite. Brought up without much self-control, if civilization be taken as a standard,—regardless of the past, heedless of the future, and mindful only of the present,—the wild child of nature quaffs with eager joy the fire-water, which seems to bring him inspiration, and to extend the bounds of existence.
"Waqua knows," said the savage, holding up his cup at the end of the meal, "that the Great Spirit loves his white children very much, else never would he have given them the dancing fire-water that streams through me like the sun through morning clouds."
"Beware," said Arundel, "that it be not more like the lightning, which marks its path with destruction. But, Waqua, come thou now with me. I saw no red cloth in thy lodge, and there was but little paint in thy pot, and I know where there is plenty."
"My brother is an open hand, and will make Waqua's wigwam as gay as the breast of the Gues-ques-kes-cha."
With these words, the Indian followed Arundel into the street, walking in his tracks, and the two pursued their way in the direction of one of the principal store-houses.
The street led directly by the house of the Assistant Spikeman, and, as they passed, the eyes of the young man were busy, as was natural, to discover traces of his mistress. Nor was he doomed to disappointment. As he came opposite, a casement opened, a small white hand was thrust out, and beckoned to him. Thus invited, Arundel stepped within the door, whither he was followed by the savage. In those days, the simple forest children thought there was no harm in asking for a hospitality they were ever ready to grant themselves, and which they considered a duty; nor inasmuch as they never attempted to take away anything by violence, but thankfully accepted whatever was offered to them, were their visits generally discouraged. Indeed, the importance of treating them with indulgence was sedulously inculcated by both elders and magistrates, as being conducive to their own security as well as from higher motives. The expediency of such conduct was so obvious that few were found to disregard it. Hence the Indians, on their visits to the settlement, were accustomed, if they wanted food, or to enter the houses for any other purpose, to step in with the same freedom almost as into their own wigwams. If now and then a circumstance occurred inconsistent with the sacred duty of hospitality, it was not considered as reflecting disgrace upon the whole community, but only on the sordid churl who was the occasion of it, and whose domicile was ever afterwards carefully avoided.
The young man and his dusky companion were met by Prudence, who, while conducting them into a room, whispered: