Ashatea looked handsomer than ever. She was eager to set out to see Lily. Reuben offered to accompany her, and show the way: at which Kepenau laughed, observing that an Indian never required a guide through his own country; but, for all that, he should be happy to have the white stranger’s society.
Kepenau had brought several packages of skins, which it was his object to dispose of.
“My friend,” said the old trapper, touching him on the shoulder, “let me sell them for you. I know how the white men will treat you if they think that they are yours: they will offer a third of the value, and then insist on your taking articles you do not require.”
“I wish to open a fair trade with the white men,” answered Kepenau. “I will let them understand that I have more skins to bring.”
“The greater reason they will have for putting a small value on them,” observed the old trapper.
“I would advise you to accept Samson Micklan’s offer,” said Uncle Mark, turning to the Indian.
Kepenau considered the matter for some time. “I will do as you advise,” he said at length. “I know that I can trust you. When you have fixed a price, I will not consent to sell under it. I intend, nevertheless, to go to the settlement.”
The old trapper, whose name I now for the first time heard, appeared to be in no hurry to continue his journey. When at length he declared that he was ready to start, Reuben offered to carry his pack.
Old Samson smiled. “It may make your young shoulders ache more than you suppose,” he observed.
“Let me try,” answered Reuben; and I helped him to place it on his shoulders. In doing so I was able to judge of its weight.