He went over to my mothers and did likewise, speaking the same words to both. He then strode out of the lodge.
Neither my father nor my mothers said anything, and I did not know at first what it all meant. My father sat for a while, looking at the fire. At last he spoke, “My daughter is too young to marry. When she is older I may be willing.”
Toward evening Hanging Stone and his relatives brought four horses and three flint-lock guns to our lodge. He tied the four horses to the drying stage outside. They had good bridles, with chains hanging to the bits. On the back of each horse was a blanket and some yards of calico, very expensive in those days.
Hanging Stone came into the lodge. “I have brought you four horses and three guns,” he said to my father.
“I must refuse them,” answered Small Ankle. “My daughter is too young to marry.”
Hanging Stone went away, but he did not take his horses with him. My father sent them back by some young men.
The evening of the second day after, Hanging Stone came again to our lodge. As before, he brought the three guns and gifts of cloth, and four horses; but two of these were hunting horses. A hunting horse was one fleet enough to overtake a buffalo, a thing that few of our little Indian ponies could do. Such horses were costly and hard to get. A family that had good hunting horses had always plenty of meat.
After Hanging Stone left, my father said to his wives, “What do you think about it?”
“We would rather not say anything,” they answered. “Do as you think best.”
“I know this Magpie,” said my father. “He is a kind young man. I have refused his gifts once, but I see his heart is set on having our daughter. I think I shall agree to it.”