The manufacture of the sheath, which had caused me much perplexity,
was explained by old Peter in a minute. "'Tis burnt out," he said.
"Instrument made like sword - heat red-hot - burnt through - polished
outside."
Had I demanded a whole fleet of canoes for my Japanese sword, I am
certain they would have agreed to the bargain.
The Indian possesses great taste, which is displayed in the carving
of his paddles, in the shape of his canoes, in the elegance and
symmetry of his bows, in the cut of his leggings and moccasins, the
sheath of his hunting-knife, and in all the little ornaments in
which he delights. It is almost impossible for a settler to imitate
to perfection an Indian's cherry-wood paddle. My husband made very
creditable attempts, but still there was something wanting - the
elegance of the Indian finish was not there. If you show them a
good print, they invariably point out the most natural, and the
best-executed figure in the group. They are particularly delighted
with pictures, examine them long, and carefully, and seem to feel
an artist-like pleasure in observing the effect produced by light
and shade.
I had been showing John Nogan, the eldest son of old Peter, some
beautiful coloured engravings of celebrated females; to my
astonishment he pounced upon the best, and grunted out his
admiration in the most approved Indian fashion.
