“If you eat these roots, before many hours are over you will be dead men,” exclaimed the Indian, taking them up one after another, and throwing them to a distance, reserving only four or five of a different species from the rest. “These are wholesome, if you boil them sufficiently; they are such as my family and I have lived on for many days past.”
Being assured that the Indian spoke the truth, we thanked him for the timely warning he had given us. We now did up the larger portion of what remained of our meat, reserving only enough for the following day, and giving it to him, asked if he knew Fort Black, and would agree to guide us to it. He seemed somewhat surprised at our liberality, and replied that if we would wait a day or two, till his family were fit to travel, he would show us the direct way to it. We understood from him that it was some distance off.
I replied that, as our friends were expecting us, we wished to set off at once, and that if he would point out the direction of the fort we could find our way alone.
“As such is your resolution, may the Good Spirit guide you! I cannot leave my family, and they will be unable to travel for two days at least.” Saying this, he got up and drew a line on the ground pointing to the north-east. “That is the direction you must follow,” he said. “In three days you will reach the fort.”
We knew by this that we had gone too far to the westward, and not sufficiently to the north. We hoped that now we should be able to make our way. We were thankful to think that we had only two nights more to stop out, and unless the weather changed very much for the worse we were not likely to suffer.
The Indian having done up the meat we had given him, without expressing any gratitude took his departure, and was soon lost to sight in the gloom.
“Miskwandib! that’s the name of the ‘red head’ or ‘copper-snake’,” I observed. “What do you think of our friend, Pat?”
“I don’t altogether trust him,” he answered. “He may be an honest man and have told us the truth; but he may be a rogue and mean us harm, notwithstanding all he said.”
“He might have shot us with his arrows had he been so inclined,” I answered, “and at all events he did us a great service in warning us of the poisonous character of the roots you dug up. I feel pretty sure, too, that he pointed out the right direction to the fort.”
Still Pat was not convinced of the honesty of Miskwandib. He was never very friendly to the Indians, and certainly begrudged parting with so much of our venison, though ready to do as I wished.