nxious to arrive before the
canoe we hurried forward.
Kepenau told me that his daughter had so much wished to see Lily,--or my
sister, as he called her,--that he had consented to bring her, and to
leave her for two or three days, if my friends would allow it.
I said that I was sure they would.
He desired, he told me, to make some trade arrangements for disposing of
the peltries which he and his people obtained; his object, at the same
time, being to keep them away from the white men, for fear of the "fire
water." This subject was continually on his mind. He had seen it prove
the destruction of so many of his countrymen, that he dreaded its
introduction among his own tribe, who had hitherto been kept free from
it. However, as my uncles and Mr Claxton were men who never touched
liquor, he was not afraid of dealing with them.
I remarked, as we walked along, that his eyes were constantly turning in
every direction,--now on the ground, now on the trees and hushes on
either side,--as if he was on the look-out for game, or fancied that an
enemy was lurking near. I at last inquired why he did this.
"It is the habit of my people," he answered. "We never can tell whether
our foes may be before us or tracking our footsteps. I noticed that
some one besides you and your young friend and the black has passed this
way lately. He wore moccasins, and may therefore be a red man and an
enemy; but I have just discovered that he is one of your people, and has
a load on his shoulders. Observe that soft ground; his feet sank deeper
into it than would have been the case had he been unencumbered. He is
either an old man, or overcome with fatigue. He cannot be very far
before us, and is going in the direction of your hut." Kepenau pointed
as he spoke to some mossy ground, where I could just distinguish a faint
outline of the footsteps of a man; but I should have been unable to read
anything beyond that fact from the marks left behind.
Quambo, who saw them, thought that they might have been, after all, only
the footsteps of Uncle Mark or Mike, who might have come out thus far in
search of game; but Kepenau laughed when this was said.
"No, no," he answered; "these are moccasins. You will see that I am
right."
We hurried on, for the sun was getting low, and already the gloom had
settled down in the recesses of the forest.
As we emerged into more open ground near the banks of the river, the
rays of the sun glancing alo
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