“Ya.”
“No, no; where catch him?”
“Ya.”
“Here or zere; here or zere?” very loud, as though the savage were deaf.
“Ya.”
“That will do; and after this instructive conversation we had better seek our camp and supper.”
“Just as you say; he evidently does not fully understand the last question, although I think we might obtain some valuable information from him. We certainly want to know where he took that fish, which must weigh four pounds.”
“We certainly shall not find out, as baby talk evidently is not Chippewa, although I wish it was, and will need Frank’s aid in our communications.”
The other Indians were still seated near our fire, and received with apparent thankfulness the remnants of our supper, of which we took care that the little girl should have her share, after we had finished. As the river was low and could not be ascended with our barge, nor without much labor on foot, it was necessary to hire canoes; but unfortunately we had nothing but United States money, which was about as worthless as white paper. Frank took ground that we should pay them in stores of pork and biscuit; but as he seemed utterly regardless of our anxiety to make a positive bargain, and but little mindful whether they were paid or not, Don felt it necessary to approach the subject cautiously, and having read of the pipe of peace, thought the opportunity a good one for its introduction. Taking out his pouch, he gave them enough tobacco to fill their pipes all round, having learnt from Frank that it was not necessary to pass his own from mouth to mouth, which he had considered imperative, but which was not altogether pleasant. He was solicitous about their having their pipes well lighted, and being pleased with the tobacco, and when reassured on that head, and satisfied that genial smoke was producing its natural effect, he permitted Frank to give a few gentle hints suggestive of our desires to ascend the river, our possession of quantities of pork that we did not wish to take back with us, and our anxiety to be satisfied that canoes could be had.
The subject being skilfully launched, Don expressed great interest in the little girl, whose name he found was Wajack, which being interpreted, means Little Rat, and finally made his great point by the production of his picture. This had hung in our tent night after night, had been carried in our basket day by day, and had smashed its score of eggs; but now it repaid us. The hearts of the savages were won, their delight was rapturous, expressions of admiration were universal, the highest encomiums were passed upon it, and the little children, whose likenesses were really extremely pretty, were as the perfection of loveliness as Frank interpreted it, pronounced to be “so nice and fat.”