"It is the nature of Dagaeoga, and he should give thanks to Manitou that he has been made that way. It is worth much more to him than the white man's gold."
"I am thankful, Tayoga. I'm thankful for a lot of things. How does this coat look on me?"
"It is small. You have grown much in the last year or two. Your frame is filling out and you are bigger every way. Still, it is a fine coat, and the knee breeches, stockings and buckled shoes are very splendid. If Dagaeoga does not look like a chief it is only because he is not old enough, and he at least looks like the son of a chief."
Robert contemplated himself in a small mirror with much satisfaction.
"I'm frightfully tanned," he said. "Perhaps they wouldn't take me for a model of fashion in Paris or London, but here nearly everybody else is tanned also, and, after all, it's healthy."
The Onondaga regarded him with an amused smile.
"If Dagaeoga had the time and money he would spend much of both on dress," he said. "He loves to make a fine appearance."
"You say nothing but the truth," said Robert frankly. "I hope some day to have the very best clothes that are made. A man who respects his clothes respects himself. I know no sin in trying to please the eyes of others and incidentally myself. I note, Tayoga, that on occasion you array yourself with great splendor, and that, at all times, you're very particular about your attire."
"It is so, Dagaeoga. I spoke in terms of approval, not of criticism. Are you satisfied with yourself?"
"As much as possible under the circumstances. If I could achieve the change merely by making a wish I'd have the coat and breeches of a somewhat richer hue, and the buckles on the shoes considerably larger, but they'll do. Shall we sit here and rest until Caterina calls us for supper?"