He had held frequent communion with the traders and troops of the Canadas, and the intercourse had unsettled many of those wild opinions which were his birthright, without perhaps substituting any others of a nature sufficiently definite to be profitable.
His reasoning was rather subtle than true, and his philosophy far more audacious than profound.
Like thousands of more enlightened beings, who fancy they are able to go through the trials of human existence without any other support than their own resolutions, his morals were accommodating and his motive selfish.
These several characteristics will be understood always with reference to the situation of the Indian, though little apology is needed for finding resemblances between men, who essentially possess the same nature, however it may be modified by circumstances.
Notwithstanding the presence of Inez and Ellen, the entrance of the Teton warrior into the lodge of his favourite wife, was made with the tread and mien of a master.
The step of his moccasin was noiseless, but the rattling of his bracelets, and of the silver ornaments of his leggings, sufficed to announce his approach, as he pushed aside the skin covering of the opening of the tent, and stood in the presence of its inmates.
A faint cry of pleasure burst from the lips of Tachechana in the suddenness of her surprise, but the emotion was instantly suppressed in that subdued demeanour which should characterise a matron of her tribe.
Instead of returning the stolen glance of his youthful and secretly rejoicing wife, Mahtoree moved to the couch, occupied by his prisoners, and placed himself in the haughty, upright attitude of an Indian chief, before their eyes.
The old man had glided past him, and already taken a position suited to the office he had been commanded to fill.
Surprise kept the females silent and nearly breathless.
Though accustomed to the sight of savage warriors, in the horrid panoply of their terrible profession, there was something so startling in the entrance, and so audacious in the inexplicable look of their conqueror, that the eyes of both sunk to the earth, under a feeling of terror and embarrassment.
Then Inez recovered herself, and addressing the trapper, she demanded, with the dignity of an offended gentlewoman, though with her accustomed grace, to what circumstance they owed this extraordinary and unexpected visit.
The old man hesitated; but clearing his throat, like one who was about to make an effort to which he was little used, he ventured on the following reply—
“Lady,” he said, “a savage is a savage, and you are not to look for the uses and formalities of the settlements on a bleak and windy prairie.
As these Indians would say, fashions and courtesies are things so light, that they would blow away.
As for myself, though a man of the forest, I have seen the ways of the great, in my time, and I am not to learn that they differ from the ways of the lowly.
I was long a serving-man in my youth, not one of your beck-and-nod runners about a household, but a man that went through the servitude of the forest with his officer, and well do I know in what manner to approach the wife of a captain.
Now, had I the ordering of this visit, I would first have hemmed aloud at the door, in order that you might hear that strangers were coming, and then I—”
“The manner is indifferent,” interrupted Inez, too anxious to await the prolix explanations of the old man; “why is the visit made?”
“Therein shall the savage speak for himself. The daughters of the Pale-faces wish to know why the Great Teton has come into his lodge?”
Mahtoree regarded his interrogator with a surprise, which showed how extraordinary he deemed the question.
Then placing himself in a posture of condescension, after a moment’s delay, he answered—
“Sing in the ears of the dark-eye.
Tell her the lodge of Mahtoree is very large, and that it is not full.
She shall find room in it, and none shall be greater than she.
Tell the light-hair, that she too may stay in the lodge of a brave, and eat of his venison.
Mahtoree is a great chief.
His hand is never shut.”
“Teton,” returned the trapper, shaking his head in evidence of the strong disapprobation with which he heard this language, “the tongue of a Red-skin must be coloured white, before it can make music in the ears of a Pale-face.
Should your words be spoken, my daughters would shut their ears, and Mahtoree would seem a trader to their eyes.
Now listen to what comes from a grey-head, and then speak accordingly.
My people is a mighty people.
The sun rises on their eastern and sets on their western border.
The land is filled with bright-eyed and laughing girls, like these you see—ay, Teton, I tell no lie,” observing his auditor to start with an air of distrust—“bright-eyed and pleasant to behold, as these before you.”
“Has my father a hundred wives!” interrupted the savage, laying his finger on the shoulder of the trapper, with a look of curious interest in the reply.
“No, Dahcotah.
The Master of Life has said to me, Live alone; your lodge shall be the forest; the roof of your wigwam, the clouds.
But, though never bound in the secret faith which, in my nation, ties one man to one woman, often have I seen the workings of that kindness which brings the two together.
Go into the regions of my people; you will see the daughters of the land, fluttering through the towns like many-coloured and joyful birds in the season of blossoms.
You will meet them, singing and rejoicing, along the great paths of the country, and you will hear the woods ringing with their laughter.
They are very excellent to behold, and the young men find pleasure in looking at them.”
“Hugh,” ejaculated the attentive Mahtoree.
“Ay, well may you put faith in what you hear, for it is no lie.
But when a youth has found a maiden to please him, he speaks to her in a voice so soft, that none else can hear.
He does not say, My lodge is empty and there is room for another; but shall I build, and will the virgin show me near what spring she would dwell?
His voice is sweeter than honey from the locust, and goes into the ear thrilling like the song of a wren.
Therefore, if my brother wishes his words to be heard, he must speak with a white tongue.”
Mahtoree pondered deeply, and in a wonder that he did not attempt to conceal.
It was reversing all the order of society, and, according to his established opinions, endangering the dignity of a chief, for a warrior thus to humble himself before a woman.
But as Inez sat before him, reserved and imposing in air, utterly unconscious of his object, and least of all suspecting the true purport of so extraordinary a visit, the savage felt the influence of a manner to which he was unaccustomed.