The news did not appear to be agreeable to Conrad, who walked away without comment; but the little fellow was too full of the novelty of his experiences to heed Conrad’s manner, and they went on to a lodge on the edge of the village and Louis led his companion into where, seated on a bear skin, was a woman weaving mats out of rushes. She looked up quickly, and Rodney saw at a glance that she was superior to any Indian women he had ever seen, evidently a half-breed. The blanket she wore and her surroundings looked clean, and her face showed intelligence much beyond the ordinary; but there was something in the look she gave him that warned Rodney she would be his implacable enemy.
The little fellow’s tongue ran on in a mingled jargon of French, Indian and English and Rodney comprehended, rather from the looks and gestures of 69 the woman and child than from the words, that Louis was determined the newcomer should live with them, while she objected, whereat Louis began to wail imperiously, and the glance of dislike she gave Rodney was not reassuring.
“I will build a lodge, you can show me how to do it, and then you can have one more home to go to,” said Rodney, trying to soothe the troubled feelings. This idea pleased Louis, who dried his eyes and was for beginning on it right away, but “Maman,” as he called the half-breed woman, did not appear to like this plan any better than the first, and her beady eyes snapped ominously; but she said nothing. Rodney wished he might lie down on one of the clean mats before him and sleep, for he was so tired he scarcely could keep awake even while walking. He shrank from asking the woman for a place to sleep, but finally did so, and she grunted assent.
While Rodney slept the sleep of exhaustion, Louis went in search of Conrad, and asked him to build his new friend a wigwam.
Conrad scowled and replied that the new boy wouldn’t live long enough to need it, and Louis cried, “They can’t kill him, Ahneota won’t let them.”
“Vat for you vant him, yet? Conrad your friend is.”
“I want him, too; he’s white like Jules. Papa said: ‘Jules is a good boy and you may play with him all day.’ You don’t play with me all the time, but go away hunting and will not let me go, too.”
“He need will have to eat, und to hunt, I tink, alretty.”
Louis was so insistent that Conrad finally assisted him in cutting poles for the proposed wigwam and setting them in place. By this time Rodney, who had been waked by the woman, joined them and worked as hard as his sore muscles would permit. By night he had a shelter of bark and boughs. Louis brought a mat and there the weary captive lay down for the night, hungry and sore. Later, the little fellow brought him some dried venison and showed him the spring that supplied the village with drinking water.