Mrs. McDougal knew that Indians lived at no great distance, but as she had never seen a member of the tribe, her emotions were those of terror, quickening every pulse and yet paralyzing every limb. The Indian's views were more comprehensive; he had observed her, without being observed himself. He recognized her person, knew her home, comprehended her mishap, divined her errand and immediately beckoned her to follow him. The unfortunate woman understood his signal, and obeyed it, as far as terror left her power; and after a lengthened walk, which added not a little to her previous fatigue, they arrived at the door of an Indian wigwam.
Her conductor, by signs, invited her to enter; but this she persistently refused to do, dreading the consequence, preferring death in the open air to the tender mercies of cannibals within. Perceiving her reluctance, and surmising her feelings, the hospitable Indian rushed into his wigwam and held a hasty consultation with his wife, who, in a few minutes, also appeared, and, by certain signs and sympathies known only to females, calmed the stranger's fears, and induced her to enter their lowly abode. Venison was instantly prepared for supper, and Mrs. McDougal, though still alarmed at the strangeness of her situation, found the food well cooked, and, in her hungry condition, delicious. Aware that their guest was weary, the Indians stretched two deerskins across the wigwam, thus dividing it into two apartments. Mats and soft furs were then spread upon the floor of each, and the visitor was given to understand that the further room from the entrance was for her accommodation. But here again her courage failed her, and to the most pressing entreaties she replied by signs, as well as she could, that she would prefer to sit and sleep by the fire. This determination seemed to puzzle the two entertainers sadly, often they looked at each other and conversed softly in their own language, and, at last, the red took the white woman by the hand, led her to her couch and became her bedfellow. In the morning she awoke greatly refreshed, and anxious to depart, without further delay—but her host and hostess would on no account permit it. Breakfast was prepared—another savory and well-cooked meal—and then the Indian conducted his guest to the very spot where the cattle were grazing. These he kindly drove from the woods, on the verge of which Mrs. McDougal saw her husband running about everywhere, hallooing and seeking for her in a state of mind bordering on distraction. Great was his joy, and great his gratitude to her Indian benefactor, who was invited to the house and treated to the best the larder afforded, and presented on his departure with a suit of clothes.
Some time after this the Indian returned and endeavored to induce Mr. McDougal to follow him into the forest. But this invitation was positively declined—and the poor savage went on his way obviously grieved and disappointed. But again he returned and renewed his entreaties, yet without effect. At last he hit upon an expedient, which none save an Indian hunter would have thought of.
The McDougals had a nursling in the crib only a few months old, a fact the Indian failed not to observe. So, after his pantomimic eloquence availed nothing, he approached the crib, seized the child, wrapped a blanket around it, and darted out of the house with the speed of an antelope. The alarmed parents instantly followed (as he knew they would) supplicating and beseeching at the top of their voices. But the Indian's resolves were as fixed as fate—and away he went, slow enough to encourage his pursuers, but still in the lead by a good many paces. The Indian was in no hurry, only aiming to keep out of the reach of McDougal's arms, and glancing back now and then to see that his pursuers were still following. The parents noticed, too, that the Indian carried the babe very gently and took pains to keep the blanket carefully wrapped around it. They now realized that he meant no harm to the child, but they were still puzzled to know what he did mean. After traveling in this manner several miles the savage stopped abruptly on the margin of a most beautiful little prairie, teaming with the richest vegetation and comprising several thousand acres of choice land.
When McDougal and his wife reached the Indian, he quietly restored the babe to its mother, and spreading both hands toward the little paradise, he uttered the only English word he had acquired, which was, "look!"
The shrewd Scotchman did look with astonishment and delight, and the more he examined it the better he liked the prospect. He found the soil to be of the best quality of black prairie loam, which would need but the tickle of the plowshare to make it laugh with the golden harvest. As McDougal had sufficient cattle to break it, he could begin farming operations at once without the slow, laborious process of cleaning up forest. Moreover a good sized stream gushed out of a near-by cliff, affording abundance of never failing water for flocks and herds, and a fine mill site. It was one of the most beautiful and fertile spots in all Canada, and the white man immediately saw the propriety of the advice given by the untutored one.
By a sort of tacit agreement, a day was fixed for the removal of the materials of our countryman's cabin, goods and chattels; and the Indian friend, true to his word, brought a detachment of his village to assist in one of the most romantic "flittings" ever undertaken. In a few days a roomy log house was erected near the headwaters of the beautiful little stream, just in the edge of the prairie, with a forest on the north for a windbrake. A garden was enclosed, and preparations made to break the virgin prairie.
McDougal was greatly pleased at the change—and no wonder, seeing that he could almost boast a bodyguard as bold and true as the bowmen of Robin Hood. His Indian friend speedily became a sort of foster brother, and his tribe as faithful as the most attached Tail of Gillies that ever surrounded a Highland chieftain. Even, the stupid kine lowed, on finding themselves suddenly transferred to a boundless range of richest pasture, and soon began improving rapidly in condition and increasing in numbers.
The little garden was also smiling like a rose, the over-abundant grass gradually giving way to thriving crops. The Indians continued friendly and faithful, occasionally bringing presents of venison and other game, and were uniformly rewarded from the stores of a dairy overflowing with milk and cream, and filled with butter and cheese.
In time a small grist and saw mill was built on the banks of the little stream, for the profit of the owner, and the accommodation of neighboring settlers. The Indian friend who made all this prosperity possible was at length induced to form a part of the establishment in the capacity of head shepherd a duty he undertook most cheerfully, as it still left him opportunities for hunting, trapping and keeping in touch with his tribe.