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Updated: May 8, 2025
"I did not expect to find white men here, at this time of the year." "Who are you?" I asked. "I am Miskwandib, and wish to be your friend," answered the Indian. "At present I am hungry, and should be glad of food. Had I been an enemy I could have killed you both with my arrows at a distance, and taken what I require." "Much obliged to you, friend Miskwandib, for your kindness," said Pat.
I, hearing Pat shout, joined him, when the stranger replied in his own language, "I am Miskwandib. I received a kindness from a young pale-face some time back, and come to return it." On hearing what the stranger said, I recognised him as "Copper-Snake," to whom I had given a portion of food when Pat and I had lost ourselves. I immediately went down with Pat to admit him.
The Indian having done up the meat we had given him, without expressing any gratitude took his departure, and was soon lost to sight in the gloom. "Miskwandib! that's the name of the `red head' or `copper-snake'," I observed. "What do you think of our friend, Pat?" "I don't altogether trust him," he answered.
They are cunning as the foxes, and it may be soon or it may be some moons hence before they appear, and they'll take good care not to give you warning. Miskwandib has spoken the truth." "I feel very sure that you have, my friend," I observed; "and I'll get you to repeat your account to my brother."
Still Pat was not convinced of the honesty of Miskwandib. He was never very friendly to the Indians, and certainly begrudged parting with so much of our venison, though ready to do as I wished.
It greatly diminished our stock of provisions, but we could not withhold it from the starving Indian. "Have you any friends in the neighbourhood, Misther Miskwandib?" asked Pat. "I have my squaw and children encamped at the farther end of the wood," he answered. "They, too, are starving and want food.
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