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Updated: May 2, 2025
"Well done, Waboose!" exclaimed Aunt Temple. "I'm glad to see that you improve under my tuition." "You can't spoil her," I retorted, quietly. "Well, my dear," said Mrs Liston, "send a message from me to your dark-haired pale-face that I shall begin a quilt for her next week." "I hope she will come to receive it," said Aunt Temple.
They are like a kettle with holes in the bottom they cannot hold secrets. They spoke to Attick as well as to me, and he became jealous. He swore he would take the scalp of Muxbee. One day, soon after the lake opened, Muxbee asked Waboose to go with him in a canoe to the valley at the head of lake Wichikagan. Attick followed in another canoe, but kept far behind. They did not know it was Attick.
It is nothing a mockery!" The poor girl caught it up, however, and began to kiss and caress it again. Some time elapsed before her passionate grief was sufficiently subdued to permit of her listening to me. When it was nearly exhausted, and found vent only in an occasional sob, I took her hand gently and said "Give me the picture now, Waboose. I will wrap it up again, for I have much to say."
"I wonder," said I, when we three were seated in our tent that night, refreshing ourselves with a choice morsel of baked buffalo-hump, with which the hospitable Blackfeet had supplied us, "how it comes to pass that Indians, who are usually rather fond of gifts, absolutely refuse to accept anything for the fine horse they have given to Waboose?"
As to Waboose herself, her father's gentle nature in her secures her from such a misfortune; and as to her being carried off well, I don't think any savages would be bold enough to try to carry off anything from the grip of Peter Macnab, and when we get her back here we will know how to look after her."
As most of the men had laid aside their guns, and we outnumbered them by two to one, we checked our headlong course, and trotted quietly up to them. To my great joy I saw, as we approached, that the girl who stooped to kindle the fire was Waboose. Her mother sat on a bank near her, looking very pale and worn.
I exclaimed, turning abruptly to Big Otter. "Attick has fled," said the Indian, sternly, "carrying Waboose and her mother along with him." "And you sit here idly talking," I exclaimed, almost fiercely, as I sprang up. Before I could take action of any kind, the young Indian, Mozwa, entered the tent abruptly, and said a few words to Muskrat. At the same moment the councillors rose.
I was alarmed by the solemn expression of his face. "Nothing wrong, I hope?" said I, anxiously. "The wife of Weeum the Good is dying," said the Indian, mournfully. "Oh! say not so," I exclaimed, "how dreadful to poor Waboose if this were to happen just now! You must be mistaken." "Big Otter may be mistaken.
I shall never know it now." "At all events you must know his name, Waboose?" "His name was Weeum," replied the girl quickly. "Was that all?" "All," she replied with a quick look, "was not that enough?" "Well, perhaps it was," I replied, scarce knowing what to say. "And why did he give you the name of Waboose?" I asked.
"He told us that his name was Weeum but," said the Indian, turning abruptly to Waboose, whose countenance betrayed feelings which were obviously aroused by other matters than this reference to her lost father, "my child has news of some sort. Let her speak."
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