"Come, now, Joe, we want you to tell the gentlemen a story."
"Oh, Machecawa, my brother, it is not well that you grieve."
"Our tribe she tink like dis鈥擡englishman he got someteeng he comprends pas at all; mabbe, he say, she wan beeg loup garou* and he tink it am better to be bon ami an' leeve in de sam' place dan be bad ennemi; so he am mak' you chief an' be de bess frien'."
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"You have probably heard," he continued, "that Colonel Morrison met Boyd on the St. Lawrence, near Cornwall, on his way to attack Montreal, and drove him back to Plattsburg."
"Well, no, I cannot say that I have, except Montreal and Three Rivers," he replied, as he scraped the mud off his long boots with his pocket knife.优德亚洲w88官方网站
In like manner he deposited in the little wigwam extra moccasins, a model canoe and paddle, food, and a miniature robe. Then they all returned to their camp, all but Machecawa, who crouched on the ground by the grave, his blanket over his head, a silent, motionless figure of desolation. For three whole nights and days the Chief mourned for his squaw. Then he rose and went about his ordinary duties with unmoved countenance, and the grave was left to the sun and snow and rain and the mercy of all-forgetting Nature.