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Updated: June 17, 2025
The boy had made a broth out of the dry old bones of foxes and wild-cats that lay about the camp. Scouwa ate this broth eagerly, and liked it. Then the old chief talked to Scouwa. He told him that the Great Spirit would provide food for them. He talked in this way for some time. At last he said, "Brother, go to sleep, and rise early in the morning and go hunting. Be strong, and act like a man.
He talked to his young white brother on many subjects, and James always remembered him as a great man. The wise Indian was now suffering from rheumatism. He could hardly move out of his winter hut at all. But he bore it all with gentle patience. Scouwa had to do all the hunting for himself, the old man, and the boy. Almost the only food to be had was deer meat.
He put on white man's clothes. He let his hair grow like a white man's. He spoke English once more. He was no longer called Scouwa, but James Smith. But still he walked like an Indian. All his movements were those of an Indian. He had lived nearly six years among the savages. He afterward became a colonel among the white men. He moved to Kentucky, and fought against the Indians.
He asked Scouwa if he were not tired. He told the little boy to make haste and cook some meat. "I will cook for you," said Scouwa. "Let the boy roast some meat for himself." The boy threw some meat on the coals, but he was so hungry that he ate it before it was cooked. Scouwa cut some buffalo meat into thin slices, and put the slices into a kettle to stew for the starving man.
He came back at last empty-handed. The wise Indian asked him, "What luck did you have, brother?" "None at all," said Scouwa. "Are you not very hungry?" asked the Indian. "I do not feel so hungry now as I did," said the young man, "but I am very faint and weary." Then the lame Indian told the little boy to bring something to eat.
He said a little prayer to God. Then he felt for the block again. This time he pushed and pushed with all his might. The block moved a few inches, and snow came tumbling through the hole. This let a little daylight in, and Scouwa was happy. After a while he pulled his blanket tight about him, stuck his tomahawk in his belt, and took his bow in hand.
When these had boiled awhile, he was going to take them off, but the Indian said, "No, let it cook enough." And so, hungry as he was, the wise Indian waited till the meat was well cooked, and then ate without haste, and talked about being thankful to the Great Spirit. The next day Scouwa started back for another load of buffalo meat.
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