The great chief
smoked a while, and gave it to Pigeonswing, in his turn, who
appeared to enjoy it quite as much as any of the party.
"My father does not believe he is a Jew?" said le Bourdon, smiling;
willing to commence a discourse, though still determined not to
betray a womanish curiosity.
"We are poor Injins, Bourdon; just as the Great Spirit made us. Dat
bess. Can't help what Manitou do. If he don't make us Jew, can't be
Jew. If he make us Injin, muss be Injin. For my part, b'lieve I'm
Injin, and don't want to be pale-face. Can love pale-face, now, juss
as well as love Injin."
"Oh, I hope this is true, Peter," exclaimed Margery, her handsome
face flushing with delight, at hearing these words. "So long as your
heart tells you this, be certain that the Spirit of God is in you."
Peter made no answer, but he looked profoundly impressed with the
novel feeling that had taken possession of his soul. As for the bee-
hunter, he did not meddle with Margery's convictions or emotions on
such subjects, resembling, in this particular, most men, who,
however indifferent to religion in their own persons, are never
sorry to find that their wives profoundly submit to its influence.
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