He was
made a chief!"
"Ah!" cried Charley, "I'm glad of that. And Wabisca, what came of
her? Did Misconna get her?"
"She is my wife," replied Redfeather.
"Your wife! Why, I thought I heard the voyageurs call your wife the
white swan."
"Wabisca is _white_ in the language of the Knisteneux. She is
beautiful in form, and my comrades call her the white swan."
Redfeather said this with an air of gratified pride. He did not,
perhaps, love his wife with more fervour than he would have done had
he remained with his tribe; but Redfeather had associated a great
deal with the traders, and he had imbibed much of that spirit which
prompts "_white_ men" to treat their females with deference and
respect--a feeling which is very foreign to an Indian's bosom. To do
so was, besides, more congenial to his naturally unselfish and
affectionate disposition, so that any flattering allusion to his
partner was always received by him with immense gratification.
"I'll pay you a visit some day, Redfeather, if I'm sent to any place
within fifty miles of your tribe," said Charley with the air of one
who had fully made up his mind.
"And Misconna?" asked Harry.
"Misconna is with his tribe," replied the Indian, and a frown
overspread his features as he spoke; "but Redfeather has been
following in the track of his white friends; he has not seen his
nation for many moons."
CHAPTER XIII.
The canoe--Ascending the rapids--The portage--Deer shooting and life
in the woods.
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