Tom Nogan, The Chief's Brother, Had A Very Large, Fat, Ugly Squaw
For His Wife.
She was a mountain of tawny flesh; and, but for the
innocent, good-natured expression which, like a bright sunbeam
penetrating a swarthy cloud, spread all around a kindly glow, she
might have been termed hideous.
This woman they considered very handsome, calling her "a fine
squaw - clever squaw - a much good woman;" though in what her
superiority consisted, I never could discover, often as I visited
the wigwam. She was very dirty, and appeared quite indifferent to
the claims of common decency (in the disposal of the few filthy
rags that covered her). She was, however, very expert in all Indian
craft. No Jew could drive a better bargain than Mrs. Tom; and her
urchins, of whom she was the happy mother of five or six, were as
cunning and avaricious as herself.
One day she visited me, bringing along with her a very pretty
covered basket for sale. I asked her what she wanted for it, but
could obtain from her no satisfactory answer. I showed her a small
piece of silver. She shook her head. I tempted her with pork and
flour, but she required neither. I had just given up the idea of
dealing with her, in despair, when she suddenly seized upon me, and,
lifting up my gown, pointed exultingly to my quilted petticoat,
clapping her hands, and laughing immoderately.
Another time she led me all over the house, to show me what she
wanted in exchange for BASKET. My patience was well nigh exhausted
in following her from place to place, in her attempt to discover the
coveted article, when, hanging upon a peg in my chamber, she espied
a pair of trousers belonging to my husband's logging-suit. The
riddle was solved. With a joyful cry she pointed to them, exclaiming
"Take basket. Give them!" It was with no small difficulty that I
rescued the indispensables from her grasp.
From this woman I learned a story of Indian coolness and courage
which made a deep impression on my mind. One of their squaws, a near
relation of her own, had accompanied her husband on a hunting
expedition into the forest. He had been very successful, and having
killed more deer than they could well carry home, he went to the
house of a white man to dispose of some of it, leaving the squaw to
take care of the rest until his return. She sat carelessly upon the
log with his hunting-knife in her hand, when she heard the breaking
of branches near her, and turning round, beheld a great bear only a
few paces from her.
It was too late to retreat; and seeing that the animal was very
hungry, and determined to come to close quarters, she rose, and
placed her back against a small tree, holding her knife close to her
breast, and in a straight line with the bear. The shaggy monster
came on.
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