He brought with him venison, as well
as several wild ducks that he had killed in the Kalamazoo, and three
or four prairie hens. The Chippewa never betrayed exultation at the
success of his exertions, but on this occasion he actually appeared
sad. Dorothy received his game, and as she took the ducks and other
fowls, she spoke to him.
"Thank you, Pigeonswing," said the young matron. "No pale-face could
be a better provider, and many are not one-half as good."
"What provider mean, eh?" demanded the literal-minded savage. "Mean
good; mean bad, eh?"
"Oh! it means good, of course. I could say nothing against a hunter
who takes so good care of us all."
"What he mean, den?"
"It means a man who keeps his wife and children well supplied with
food."
"You get 'nough, eh?"
"I get enough, Pigeonswing, thanks to your industry, such as it is.
Injin diet, however, is not always the best for Christian folk,
though a body may live on it. I miss many things, out here in the
Openings, to which I have been used all the early part of my life."
"What squaw miss, eh? P'raps Injin find him sometime."
"I thank you, Pigeonswing, with all my heart, and am just as
grateful for your good intentions, as I should be was you to do all
you wish.
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