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This was Jacques Caradoc, who had entered the room a few minutes before, in company with his friend Redfeather and Louis Peltier. "Right, sir! That's fact, straight up and down," said he, in an approving tone. "Ha! Jacques, my good fellow, is that you? Redfeather, my friend, how are you?" said Mr Kennedy, turning round and grasping a hand of each.
"I'll tell you what it is," said Jacques, as the party stood on a rock promontory after the events just narrated: "I would give a dollar to have that fellow's nose and the sights o' my rifle in a line at any distance short of two hundred yards." "It was Misconna," said Redfeather. "I did not see him, but there's not another man in the tribe that could do that." "I'm thankful we escaped, Jacques.
Charley heaved a deep sigh, and made another desperate attack on a large steak, while the Indians around him made considerable progress in reducing their respective mountains. Several times Charley and Redfeather exchanged glances as they paused in their labours. "I say, Jacques," said Charley, pulling up once more, "how do you get on? Pretty well stuffed by this time, I should imagine?" "Oh no!
He has got a comrade to eat more than half of his share; now that's strange." "It won't appear strange, Jacques, when I tell you that Redfeather has lived much more among white men than Indians during the last ten years; and although voyageurs eat an enormous quantity of food, they don't make it a point of honour, as these fellows seem to do, to eat much more than enough.
In the same place, and with the same stars looking down upon them, it was further agreed that Redfeather should accompany his new friends, taking his wife along with him in another canoe, as far as their several routes led them in the same direction, which was about four or five days' journey; and that while the one party diverged towards the fort at Stoney Creek, the other should pursue its course to the missionary station on the shores of Lake Winnipeg.
During his speech the Indians had risen to their feet and drawn closer together, while Jacques and the three young men drew near their superior. Redfeather remained apart, motionless, and with his eyes fixed on the ground. "And, pray, what dog what miserable thieving cur are you, who dare to address me thus?" cried Mr. Whyte, as he strode, with flashing eyes, up to the enraged Indian.
Oh!" continued Redfeather, while his brow darkened, and his black eye flashed with an expression of fierceness that his young listeners had never seen before, "may the curse " He paused. "God forgive them! How could they know better? "At length the trapper rose hastily. The expression of his brow was still the same, but his mouth was altered.
He spoke of the happy hunting-grounds to which the spirits of our fathers have gone, and said that we required a guide to lead us there; that there was but one guide, whose name, he said, was Jesus. Redfeather would stay and hunt with his people, but his spirit is troubled; he cannot rest; he must go!" Redfeather sat down, and a long silence ensued.
Besides, Redfeather is a very different man from those around him; he has been partially educated by the missionaries on Playgreen Lake, and I think has a strong leaning towards them." While they were thus conversing in whispers, Redfeather rose, and holding forth his hand, delivered himself of the following oration: "The time has come for Redfeather to speak.
From some remarks made by the Indian who gave them information of the camp, Charley gathered that it was the tribe to which Redfeather belonged, and furthermore that Redfeather himself was there at that time; so that it was with feelings of no little interest that he saw the tops of the yellow tents embedded among the green trees, and soon afterwards beheld them and their picturesque owners reflected in the clear river, on whose banks the natives crowded to witness the arrival of the white men.
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