Part 6 (1/2)
”Do just as you please, Charley,” said the warmhearted hunter. ”I don't claim any share, for we are all on our own hook, unless by special agreement; but I shall be very glad if you are kind enough to share with him, poor fellow!”
”Well, Ben, you are to take the fox at your own price, giving Peter an order on your partner for the gun, and credit to the amount of twenty-five dollars more. The other seventy-five we divide. You have only to give me credit for my moiety, as I owe you nearly that amount.”
”I'm satisfied if you are; so let us hurry up, and see Peter prepare the skin, and send him home happy.”
”The finest skin I ever saw,” said Risk. ”It's worth three hundred dollars in St. Petersburg, if it's worth a cent.”
”Who killed him?” said the elder Davies. ”If you did, Ben, I'd like to buy the skin.”
”I bought it myself of La Salle for one hundred and fifty. He killed it, and sold it to me. I guess I can sell to good advantage.”
In the mean time Peter had drawn his _waghon_, or curved Indian knife, from his belt, and, carefully commencing at the rear of the body, skinned the animal without forming another aperture, removing the mask, and ears attached, with great nicety. With equal dexterity he whittled a piece of pine board to the proper shape, and, turning the skin inside out, drew it tightly over the batten, fastening it in place with a few tacks. His task completed, he handed it to La Salle, and rose to go.
The latter restrained him, saying,--
”Hold, Peter; you must have your pay first. Here is a pair of rubber boots and some dry stockings. Put them on, and throw away those old moccasons, and take these few things to your wife.”
”You very kind, brother,” said Peter, simply, taking the small bundle of tea, sugar, bread, cake, and jellies which could be spared from their limited stock of ”small stores.”
”And, Peter,” continued La Salle, ”Ben and I have concluded to share with you in the matter of the fox. We have no wives yet, and therefore think about one half the price ought to go to you. This paper will get you that double-barrel of Ben's father to-morrow, if you feel like going over for it; and you will also be allowed to purchase twenty-five dollars' worth more of ammunition, food, and clothing.”
The tears came into the poor fellow's eyes.
”d.a.m.n! I know you hite men. I know you heretic. I say I no hunt with you. I try cheat you on the trail, and you make Peter cly like squaw. I wish--I wish--you two, tlee, six fathom deep in river. I jump in for you if I die.”
And, seizing the bundle and the precious order, he dashed the moisture from his eyes, and took the road homeward.
”He will never repay your kindness,” said Lund. ”Them Indians is never grateful for anything.”
”I think he will repay it, if it is ever in his power,” said Risk.
”Peter is one of the most honest and industrious of his tribe, and it is not his fault when his children want food.”
”Well, boys,” said the elder Davies, ”I suppose you have done right, and that you will receive as much grat.i.tude as we give to our heavenly Father; but, as men look at things, you have, indeed, 'cast your bread upon the waters.'”
”If it is so, Mr. Davies,” said La Salle, with a solemnity unusual with him, ”our reward is sure; for the promise is, 'Thou _shalt_ find it after many days.'”
”But,” said Lund, with a quiet twinkle in his sharp gray eye, ”I'd like to bet five s.h.i.+llin' that, when you are repaid, it won't be in Indian bread.”
”Pretty good!” laughed Kennedy, who had taken the day to finish up a large pile of ”back numbers” of his favorite daily, ”but I think hardly just to the Indians. Horace Greeley has given a great deal of thought to this Indian question, and although he would disapprove of supplying them with arms and ammunition, yet in all other matters would indorse your policy.”
”You don't mean to say that Greeley would disapprove of letting poor Peter have a gun to shoot game to help support his family--do you?”
asked Ben, in astonishment.
”Certainly I do. With that fifty dollars, he could have procured tools and seed, and started a farm on Indian Island. Instead of that, you give him the means of continuing a savage, instead of encouraging him to become a farmer and a civilized being. Horace Greeley would have tried--”
”To attempt an impossibility,” said La Salle, excitedly. ”As well may you expect to raise a draught horse from a pair of racers, or keep a flock of eagles as you would a coop of hens. The French have been the only people on this continent with an Indian policy founded in reason, and a just estimate of the character and capabilities of the aborigines.”
”And yet they were completely driven from this continent,” said Kennedy.
”True, sir; but their Indian policy made their scanty population of two hundred thousand Europeans a dreaded foe to the nearly three million colonists of English descent. They made of their savage allies an arm that struck secretly, swiftly, and with terrible effect, and a defence that kept actual hostilities a long distance from their main settlements. I believe, sir, that the philosophers of the future will condemn alike our policy of extermination, and the impossible attempt to mould hunters, warriors, and absolutely free men, into peaceful, plodding citizens of a republic.”