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Updated: May 20, 2025
"I don't know but I should," thought Jasper, as he noticed how light and frail the little canoe was, and how a slight motion would agitate it. "Do you live around here?" he asked, in some curiosity. "Up the river," said the girl, indicating with her head, for her hands were occupied. "Have you a father?" "Monima's father great chief," said the girl, proudly. "Monima! Is that your name?" "Yes."
The Indian maiden looked sad when they were about to part. "When will white boy come back?" she said. "I don't know, Monima. I hope to see you again, some time, but perhaps you won't remember me." "Monima never forgets," she answered. "And I shall not forget." Attached to his watch was a silver chain which he had bought in St. Louis three months before.
"It is a pretty name." The girl laughed and appeared to be pleased with the compliment, though it was only to her name. She seemed in turn to be possessed by curiosity, for she asked: "What white boy's name?" "Jasper." "Jasper," she repeated, with difficulty. "Isn't it a pretty name?" "No," said Monima, laughing. "I am sorry you don't like it, Monima." "I like white boy.
He stood on the bank, and drew from his vest-pocket a silver half-dollar, which he handed to Monima. "Monima no want money," said the girl, proudly. "Keep it to remember white boy," said Jasper. "Monima will remember white boy without money." Jasper reluctantly put the money in his pocket, but he did not like to accept the favor from Monima without rendering her some return.
But who had sped the shaft? And was he also in danger? The question was soon answered. Out from the underbrush emerged three figures. The foremost was the Indian maiden, Monima. Following her were two men of the same tribe. It was one of these who had shot at Jack. "Is white boy hurt?" asked Monima, running to Jasper and surveying him anxiously. "No," said Jasper. "Thank you, Monima."
"What for? He try to kill white boy." "Yes; but it seems awful to see him killed so suddenly. I wish he could have lived long enough to repent." Monima could not understand this. "He bad man!" she said, emphatically. "He try to kill white boy. Monima white boy's friend." Jasper took the hand of Monima gratefully and said: "You have saved me, Monima. But for you he would have killed me."
The Indian girl's eyes lighted up, but she only said: "Monima is glad." "How fortunate that I fell in with her," thought Jasper, "and that I made a friend of her!" "Where white boy go to-night?" asked Monima. "I don't know," said Jasper, doubtfully. "Come to my father's lodge. In the morning Monima will show the way." "Thank you, Monima," said our hero. "I will go."
On the whole, he enjoyed the adventure, except that he could not help thinking from time to time of his late companion, cut off so suddenly. He learned from Monima that her two attendants had remained behind and buried Jack under the tree where he had been killed. At night he slept on skins in one of the tents, and in the morning he was guided on his way by Monima as far as the road.
She looked from the picture to Jasper, and from Jasper back again to the picture, and laughed softly. "White boy's picture?" she said. "Yes, Monima. Do you think it looks like me?" She nodded emphatically. "Two white boy here and there," she said, pointing first to the picture, then to Jasper. "Good-bye, Monima," he said.
"How solitary, how joyless life is! how rich I was once in friends, how poor I am now! and who knows how much poorer I may be to-morrow at this hour who knows if I shall have a place to lay my head? I may be a fugitive, without home or country. Verily, I have the destiny of Mithridates I want only two sons and a Monima.
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