“But while one among you possesses the poison, and is ready to barter it with my people, the harm may be done,” answered Kepenau. “Until I am sure that none of the ‘fire water’ exists in your settlement, I will not allow my people to come near it.”
“I am afraid, then, that you will fail to civilise them, as you desire,” observed Uncle Mark.
“Do you call it civilising them, to teach them the vices of the white men?” exclaimed the Indian in a tone of scorn. “If so, then I would rather that they remained savages, as you call them, than obtain knowledge at such a price.”
“I believe that you are right,” answered Uncle
Mark, as we bade our host and his family good-bye; “and I have learned more than one lesson from you.”
Kepenau accompanied us to the bank of the river; where we put on our skates, and continued our course without interruption till we caught sight of several thin wreaths of smoke above the tops of the trees.
“Sure, that smoke must come from the lumberers’ fires,” observed Mike.
“Such is probably the case; but it is just possible that it may proceed from a camp of Indians, who might not be so friendly as those we left this morning,” said my uncle.
Still we were not to be stopped, and on we skated. Even should we meet enemies, we had not much cause to fear them, unless they possessed firearms. On we went, I say, gliding along at the rate of ten or twelve miles an hour; and as I had never before had an opportunity of performing so great a distance, I enjoyed it amazingly.