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Updated: May 11, 2025
Still the red man listened with stolid composure, Meekeye with apparent indifference, and Tony with absolute vacancy, so that the missionary, after offering up a silent prayer, went on his way with a sad feeling at his heart that his labour with that family of savages had been in vain. He comforted himself, however, with the reflection that it is written, "Your labour is not in vain in the Lord."
The red man had no family, hence Meekeye took to Tony with something of the fervour of a mother. Tony soon reciprocated. At first he indulged some of his mischievous tendencies, but, being only smiled at when he was naughty, found that the interest of being bad was gone, and ere long gave it up. In the presence of his new father he never dared to be other than absolute perfection.
A stiffish breeze sprang up soon after he left. Being a fair wind, he set up a rag of sail that fortunately chanced to be in the punt, and advanced swiftly on his voyage to the Little Mountain. On their way to the same place, at an earlier part of the day, Victor and Tony, with Petawanaquat and Meekeye, touched at the mission station.
Petawanaquat is there, seated with a book on his knee, and a dignified, yet slightly perplexed expression on his face. His friend Sinclair is there too, teaching him to read the Word of God. Meekeye, faithful partner and sympathiser with the red man, is also there; and beside them reclines our friend Tony. That child's taste for hunting is strong.
It must be understood that Tony's language was figurative, for at the time he was speaking his "white" face was changed so much by paint and smoke that it quite equalled that of his adopted father in dirty brownness. "Meekeye will get ready," continued the Indian. "Our journey shall be towards the rising sun."
Having been according to Miss Trim's report a very good boy and remarkably diligent at his lessons, he has been granted a holiday and permission to go a-hunting with his red father. He is tired after the day's hunt, and reclines placidly awaiting supper, which Meekeye with downcast look prepares. "You find it rather difficult to understand," said Sinclair, with a pleasant smile.
They looked like traders that was all he knew, or, at least, chose to communicate. That night Meekeye repainted Tony's neck and face with considerable care; dyed his luxuriant hair with grease and charcoal; touched up his eyebrows with the same, and caused him to dirty his hands effectively with mud and ashes.
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