Owindia | Page 5

ribs or a moose nose, and a fine kettle of tea; then you wrap yourself in your blanket, or light your pipe and feel like a 'big master.'"
Peter's picture of comfort and enjoyment pleased the Indians, and they laughed heartily and testified their approval, all but poor Accomba. She hung her head, and sadly fondled the baby at her breast. "You may laugh, boys," she said at length, "and you know what starving is as well as I do, though you are pretty well off now; it is not for myself I speak, I can bear that kind of thing as well as other women, but it comes hard for the children. Before Se Tene, my man, killed his last moose, we were starving for nearly two moons; a little dried fish and a rat or two, and now and then a rabbit, was we got: even the fish failed for some time, and there was hardly a duck or partridge to be seen. We had to eat two of the dogs at last, but, poor things, they had little flesh on their bones."
"Eh! eh! e--h!" exclaimed the Indians, who however undemonstrative under ordinary circumstances, can be full of sympathy where they can realize the affecting points of a story.
"And the children," asked one of the party, "I suppose the neighbours helped you a little with them?"
"One of my cousins took little Tetsi for a while," replied the poor woman, "and did what she could for him, but they were all short of game as we were, only their men went off after the deer, and plenty, of them got to the lakes for duck; but Michel,--"
"Well, what did he do? I suppose he was off with his gun the first of any of them?" said Peter. "I'll venture there shall not be a moose or deer within twenty miles, but Michel the Hunter shall smell him out."
"Yes, he went at last," sighed Accomba; "but my man has had one of his ugly fits upon him for all the winter; he would not hunt anywhere near the Fort, for fear of meeting a white face; and he vowed I was making friends with them, and bidding them welcome to the camp, and so he was afraid to leave it; and then at last, when I begged him to go and get food for his children, he swore at me and called me a bad name, and took up his gun to shoot me."
"Oh, I suppose he only said that in sport," said another of the party; and yet it was plain that Accomba's story had produced a great sensation among her auditors.
"_In sport!_" exclaimed Accomba, now fairly roused to excitement by the apparent incredulity of her listeners; "In sport, say you? No, no, Michel knows well what he says, though sometimes I think he is hardly responsible for his actions; but look you, boys, my husband vowed to shoot me once, and I stayed his arm and fell on my knees and tried to rouse him to pity; but I will do so no more, and if he threatens me again I will let him accomplish his fell purpose, and not a cry or sound shall ever escape my lips. But you, Tetsi," continued the poor woman, who was now fairly sobbing, "you are his brother, you might speak to him and try to bring him to reason; and if I die, you must take care of my poor children,--promise me that, Tetsi and Antoine, they are your own flesh and blood, do not let them starve. 'Niotsi Cho,' the Great Spirit will give it you back again."
There was a great silence among the Indians when Accomba had finished speaking. An Indian has great discernment, and not only can soon discover where the pathos of a story lies, but he will read as by intuition how much of it is true or false. Moreover, Michel's character was well known among them all, and his eccentricities had often excited their wonder and sometimes their censure. The poor woman's story appealed to each one of them: most of all did it appeal to the heart of Sarcelle her brother, who was another occupant of the room that evening.
"It is shocking, it is monstrous." exclaimed he at full length. "My sister, you shall come with me. I will work for you, I will hunt for you and your children. Michel shall not threaten you again, he is a 'Nakani' man; he does not know what he says or what he does, he is a bad 'Nakani.'"
"I think some one has made medicine on him," said another; "he is possessed, and will get worse till the spell is off him."
This medicine making among the Northern Indians is one of the most firmly rooted of