the feast—charley makes his first speech in public, and meets with an old friend—an evening in the grass.

savages, not less than civilised men, are fond of a good dinner. in saying this, we do not expect our reader to be overwhelmed with astonishment. he might have guessed as much; but when we state that savages, upon particular occasions, eat six dinners in one, and make it a point of honour to do so, we apprehend that we have thrown a slightly new light on an old subject. doubtless there are men in civilised society who would do likewise if they could; but they cannot, fortunately, as great gastronomic powers are dependent on severe, healthful, and prolonged physical exertion. therefore it is that in england we find men capable only of eating about two dinners at once, and suffering a good deal for it afterward; while in the backwood we see men consume a week’s dinner in one, without any evil consequences following the act.

the feast which was given by the knisteneux in honour of the visit of our two friends was provided on a more moderate scale than usual, in order to accommodate the capacities of the “white men;” three days’ allowance being cooked for each man. (women are never admitted to the public feasts.) on the day preceding the ceremony, charley and jacques had received cards of invitation from the principal chief, in the shape of two quills; similar invites being issued at the same time to all the braves. jacques being accustomed to the doings of indians, and aware of the fact that whatever was provided for each man must be eaten before he quitted the scene of operations, advised charley to eat no breakfast, and to take a good walk as a preparative. charley had strong faith, however, in his digestive powers, and felt much inclined, when morning came, to satisfy the cravings of his appetite as usual; but jacques drew such a vivid picture of the work that lay before him, that he forbore to urge the matter, and went off to walk with a light step, and an uncomfortable feeling of vacuity about the region of the stomach.

about noon the chiefs and braves assembled in an open enclosure situated in an exposed place on the banks of the river, where the proceedings were watched by the women, children, and dogs. the oldest chief sat himself down on the turf at one end of the enclosure, with jacques caradoc on his right hand, and next to him charley kennedy, who had ornamented himself with a blue stripe painted down the middle of his nose, and a red bar across his chin. charley’s propensity for fun had led him thus to decorate his face, in spite of his companion’s remonstrances,—urging, by way of excuse, that worthy’s former argument, “that it was well to fall in with the ways o’ the people a man happened to be among, so long as these ways and customs were not contrary to what was right.” now charley was sure there was nothing wrong in his painting his nose sky-blue, if he thought fit.

jacques thought it was absurd, and entertained the opinion that it would be more dignified to leave his face “its nat’ral colour.”

charley didn’t agree with him at all. he thought it would be paying the indians a high compliment to follow their customs as far as possible, and said that, after all, his blue nose would not be very conspicuous, as he (jacques) had told him that he would “look blue” at any rate when he saw the quantity of deer’s meat he should have to devour.

jacques laughed at this, but suggested that the bar across his chin was red. whereupon charley said that he could easily neutralise that by putting a green star under each eye; and then uttered a fervent wish that his friend harry somerville could only see him in that guise. finding him incorrigible, jacques, who, notwithstanding his remonstrances, was more than half imbued with charley’s spirit, gave in, and accompanied him to the feast, himself decorated with the additional ornament of a red night-cap, to whose crown was attached a tuft of white feathers.

a fire burned in the centre of the enclosure, round which the indians seated themselves according to seniority, and with deep solemnity; for it is a trait in the indian’s character that all his ceremonies are performed with extreme gravity. each man brought a dish or platter, and a wooden spoon.

the old chief, whose hair was very grey, and his face covered with old wounds and scars, received either in war or in hunting, having seated himself, allowed a few minutes to elapse in silence, during which the company sat motionless, gazing at their plates as if they half expected them to become converted into beef-steaks. while they were seated thus, another party of indians, who had been absent on a hunting expedition, strode rapidly but noiselessly into the enclosure, and seated themselves in the circle. one of these passed close to charley, and in doing so stooped, took his hand, and pressed it. charley looked up in surprise, and beheld the face of his old friend redfeather, gazing at him with an expression in which were mingled affection, surprise, and amusement at the peculiar alteration in his visage.

“redfeather!” exclaimed charley in delight, half rising; but the indian pressed him down.

“you must not rise,” he whispered, and giving his hand another squeeze, passed round the circle, and took his place directly opposite.

having continued motionless for five minutes with becoming gravity, the company began operations by proceeding to smoke out of the sacred stem—a ceremony which precedes all occasions of importance, and is conducted as follows:— the sacred stem is placed on two forked sticks to prevent its touching the ground, as that would be considered a great evil. a stone pipe is then filled with tobacco, by an attendant appointed specially to that office, and affixed to the stem, which is presented to the principal chief. that individual, with a gravity and hauteur that is unsurpassed in the annals of pomposity, receives the pipe in both hands, blows a puff to the east (probably in consequence of its being the quarter whence the sun rises), and thereafter pays a similar mark of attention to the other three points. he then raises the pipe above his head, points and balances it in various directions (for what reason and with what end in view is best known to himself), and replaces it again on the forks. the company meanwhile observe his proceedings with sedate interest, evidently imbued with the idea that they are deriving from the ceremony a vast amount of edification—an idea which is helped out, doubtless, by the appearance of the women and children, who surround the enclosure, and gaze at the proceedings with looks of awe-struck seriousness that are quite solemnising to behold.

the chief then makes a speech relative to the circumstance which has called them together; and which is always more or less interlarded with boastful reference to his own deeds, past, present, and prospective, eulogistic remarks on those of his forefathers, and a general condemnation of all other indian tribes whatever. these speeches are usually delivered with great animation, and contain much poetic allusion to the objects of nature that surround the homes of the savage. the speech being finished, the chief sits down amid a universal “ho!” uttered by the company with an emphatic prolongation of the last letter—this syllable being the indian substitute, we presume, for “rapturous applause.”

the chief who officiated on the present occasion, having accomplished the opening ceremonies thus far, sat down; while the pipe-bearer presented the sacred stem to the members of the company in succession, each of whom drew a few whiffs and mumbled a few words.

“do as you see the redskins do, mr charles,” whispered jacques, while the pipe was going round.

“that’s impossible,” replied charley, in a tone that could not be heard except by his friend. “i couldn’t make a face of hideous solemnity like that black thief opposite if i was to try ever so hard.”

“don’t let them think you are laughing at them,” returned the hunter; “they would be ill pleased if they thought so.”

“i’ll try,” said charley, “but it is hard work, jacques, to keep from laughing; i feel like a high-pressure steam-engine already. there’s a woman standing out there with a little brown baby on her back; she has quite fascinated me; i can’t keep my eyes off her, and if she goes on contorting her visage much longer, i feel that i shall give way.”

“hush!”

at this moment the pipe was presented to charley, who put it to his lips, drew three whiffs, and returned it with a bland smile to the bearer.

the smile was a very sweet one, for that was a peculiar trait in the native urbanity of charley’s disposition, and it would have gone far in civilised society to prepossess strangers in his favour: but it lowered him considerably in the estimation of his red friends, who entertained a whole some feeling of contempt for any appearance of levity on high occasions. but charley’s face was of that agreeable stamp that, though gentle and bland when lighted up with a smile, is particularly masculine and manly in expression when in repose, and the frown that knit his brows when he observed the bad impression he had given almost reinstated him in their esteem. but his popularity became great, and the admiration of his swarthy friends greater, when he rose and made an eloquent speech in english, which jacques translated into the indian language.

he told them, in reply to the chief’s oration (wherein that warrior had complimented his pale-faced brothers on their numerous good qualities), that he was delighted and proud to meet with his indian friends; that the object of his mission was to acquaint them with the fact that a new trading-fort was established not far off, by himself and his comrades, for their special benefit and behoof; that the stores were full of goods which he hoped they would soon obtain possession of, in exchange for furs; that he had travelled a great distance on purpose to see their land and ascertain its capabilities in the way of fur-bearing animals and game; that he had not been disappointed in his expectations, as he had found the animals to be as numerous as bees, the fish plentiful in the rivers and lakes, and the country at large a perfect paradise. he proceeded to tell them further that he expected they would justify the report he had heard of them, that they were a brave nation and good hunters, by bringing in large quantities of furs.

being strongly urged by jacques to compliment them on their various good qualities, charley launched out into an extravagantly poetic vein, said that he had heard (but he hoped to have many opportunities of seeing it proved) that there was no nation under the sun equal to them in bravery, activity, and perseverance; that he had heard of men in olden times who made it their profession to fight with wild bulls for the amusement of their friends, but he had no doubt whatever their courage would be made conspicuous in the way of fighting wild bears and buffaloes, not for the amusement but the benefit of their wives and children (he might have added, of the hudson’s bay company, but he didn’t, supposing that that was self-evident, probably). he complimented them on the way in which they had conducted themselves in war in times past, comparing their stealthy approach to enemies camps to the insidious snake that glides among the bushes and darts unexpectedly on its prey; said that their eyes were sharp to follow the war-trail through the forest or over the dry sward of the prairie; their aim with gun or bow true and sure as the flight of the goose when it leaves the lands of the sun, and points its beak to the icy regions of the north; their war-whoops loud as the thunders of the cataract; and their sudden onset like the lightning flash that darts from the sky and scatters the stout oak in splinters on the plain.

at this point jacques expressed his satisfaction at the style in which his young friend was progressing.

“that’s your sort, mr charles. don’t spare the butter; lay it on thick. you’ve not said too much yet, for they are a brave race, that’s a fact, as i’ve good reason to know.”

jacques, however, did not feel quite so well satisfied when charley went on to tell them that, although bravery in war was an admirable thing, war itself was a thing not at all to be desired, and should only be undertaken in case of necessity. he especially pointed out that there was not much glory to be earned in fighting against the chipewyans, who, everybody knew, were a poor, timid set of people, whom they ought rather to pity than to destroy; and recommended them to devote themselves more to the chase than they had done in times past, and less to the prosecution of war in time to come.

all this, and a great deal more, did charley say, in a manner, and with a rapidity of utterance, that surprised himself, when he considered the fact that he had never adventured into the field of public speaking before. all this, and a great deal more—a very great deal more—did jacques caradoc interpret to the admiring indians, who listened with the utmost gravity and profound attention, greeting the close with a very emphatic “ho!”

jacques’s translation was by no means perfect. many of the flights into which charley ventured, especially in regard to the manners and customs of the savages of ancient greece and rome, were quite incomprehensible to the worthy backwoodsman; but he invariably proceeded when charley halted, giving a flight of his own when at a loss, varying and modifying when he thought it advisable, and altering, adding, or cutting off as he pleased.

several other chiefs addressed the assembly, and then dinner, if we may so call it, was served. in charley’s case it was breakfast; to the indians it was breakfast, dinner, and supper in one. it consisted of a large platter of dried meat, reindeer tongues (considered a great delicacy), and marrowbones.

notwithstanding the graphic power with which jacques had prepared his young companion for this meal, charley’s heart sank when he beheld the mountain of boiled meat that was placed before him. he was ravenously hungry, it is true, but it was patent to his perception at a glance that no powers of gormandising of which he was capable could enable him to consume the mass in the course of one day.

jacques observed his consternation, and was not a little entertained by it, although his face wore an expression of profound gravity while he proceeded to attack his own dish, which was equal to that of his friend.

before commencing, a small portion of meat was thrown into the fire, as a sacrifice to the great master of life.

“how they do eat, to be sure!” whispered charley to jacques, after he had glanced in wonder at the circle of men who were devouring their food with the most extraordinary rapidity.

“why, you must know,” replied jacques, “that it’s considered a point of honour to get it over soon, and the man that is done first gets most credit. but it’s hard work,” (he sighed, and paused a little to breathe), “and i’ve not got half through yet.”

“it’s quite plain that i must lose credit with them, then, if it depends on my eating that. tell me, jacques, is there no way of escape? must i sit here till it is all consumed?”

“no doubt of it. every bit that has been cooked must be crammed down our throats somehow or other.”

charley heaved a deep sigh, and made another desperate attack on a large steak, while the indians around him made considerable progress in reducing their respective mountains.

several times charley and redfeather exchanged glances as they paused in their labours.

“i say, jacques,” said charley, pulling up once more, “how do you get on? pretty well stuffed by this time, i should imagine?”

“oh no! i’ve a good deal o’ room yet.”

“i give in. credit or disgrace, it’s all one. i’ll not make a pig of myself for any redskin in the land.”

jacques smiled.

“see,” continued charley, “there’s a fellow opposite who has devoured as much as would have served me for three days. i don’t know whether it’s imagination or not, but i do verily believe that he’s blacker in the face than when he sat down!”

“very likely,” replied jacques, wiping his lips. “now i’ve done.”

“done? you have left at least a third of your supply.”

“true, and i may as well tell you for your comfort that there is one way of escape open to you. it is a custom among these fellows, that when any one cannot gulp his share o’ the prog, he may get help from any of his friends who can cram it down their throats; and as there are always such fellows among these injins, they seldom have any difficulty.”

“a most convenient practice,” replied charley; “i’ll adopt it at once.”

charley turned to his next neighbour with the intent to beg of him to eat his remnant of the feast.

“bless my heart, jacques, i’ve no chance with the fellow on my left hand; he’s stuffed quite full already, and is not quite done with his own share.”

“never fear,” replied his friend, looking at the individual in question, who was languidly lifting a marrow-bone to his lips; “he’ll do it easy. i knows the gauge o’ them chaps, and for all his sleepy look just now he’s game for a lot more.”

“impossible,” replied charley, looking in despair at his unfinished viands and then at the indian. a glance round the circle seemed further to convince him that if he did not eat it himself there were none of the party likely to do so.

“you’ll have to give him a good lump o’ tobacco to do it, though; he won’t undertake so much for a trifle, i can tell you.” jacques chuckled as he said this, and handed his own portion over to another indian, who readily undertook to finish it for him.

“he’ll burst; i feel certain of that,” said charley, with a deep sigh, as he surveyed his friend on the left.

at last he took courage to propose the thing to him, and just as the man finished the last morsel of his own repast, charley placed his own plate before him, with a look that seemed to say, “eat it, my friend, if you can.”

the indian, much to his surprise, immediately commenced to it, and in less than half an hour the whole was disposed of.

during this scene of gluttony, one of the chiefs entertained the assembly with a wild and most unmusical chant, to which he beat time on a sort of tambourine, while the women outside of the enclosure beat a similar accompaniment.

“i say, master,” whispered jacques, “it seems to my observation that the fellow you called redfeather eats less than any injin i ever saw. he has got a comrade to eat more than half of his share; now that’s strange.”

“it won’t appear strange, jacques, when i tell you that redfeather has lived much more among white men than indians during the last ten years; and although voyageurs eat an enormous quantity of food, they don’t make it a point of honour, as these fellows seem to do, to eat much more than enough. besides, redfeather is a very different man from those around him: he has been partially educated by the missionaries on playgreen lake, and i think has a strong leaning towards them.”

while they were thus conversing in whispers, redfeather rose, and holding forth his hand, delivered himself of the following oration:—

“the time has come for redfeather to speak. he has kept silence for many moons now, but his heart has been full of words. it is too full; he must speak now. redfeather has fought with his tribe, and has been accounted a brave, and one who loves his people. this is true. he does love, even more than they can understand. his friends know that he has never feared to face danger or death in their defence, and that, if it were necessary, he would do so still. but redfeather is going to leave his people now. his heart is heavy at the thought. perhaps many moons will come and go, many snows may fall and melt away, before he sees his people again; and it is this that makes him full of sorrow, it is this that makes his head to droop like the branches of the weeping willow.”

redfeather paused at this point, but not a sound escaped from the listening circle: the indians were evidently taken by surprise at this abrupt announcement. he proceeded:—

“when redfeather travelled not long since with the white men, he met with a paleface who came from the other side of the great salt lake towards the rising sun. this man was called by some of the people a missionary. he spoke wonderful words in the ears of redfeather. he told him of things about the great spirit which he did not know before, and he asked redfeather to go and help him to speak to the indians about these strange things. redfeather would not go. he loved his people too much, and he thought that the words of the missionary seemed foolishness. but he has thought much about it since. he does not understand the strange things that were told to him, and he has tried to forget them, but he cannot. he can get no rest. he hears strange sounds in the breeze that shakes the pine. he thinks that there are voices in the waterfall; the rivers seem to speak. redfeather’s spirit is vexed. the great spirit, perhaps, is talking to him. he has resolved to go to the dwelling of the missionary and stay with him.”

the indian paused again, but still no sound escaped from his comrades. dropping his voice to a soft, plaintive tone, he continued:—

“but redfeather loves his kindred. he desires very much that they should hear the things that the missionary said. he spoke of the happy hunting-grounds to which the spirits of our fathers have gone, and said that we required a guide to lead us there; that there was but one guide, whose name, he said, was jesus. redfeather would stay and hunt with his people, but his spirit is troubled; he cannot rest; he must go!”

redfeather sat down, and a long silence ensued. his words had evidently taken the whole party by surprise, although not a countenance there showed the smallest symptom of astonishment, except that of charley kennedy, whose intercourse with indians had not yet been so great as to have taught him to conceal his feelings.

at length the old chief rose, and after complimenting redfeather on his bravery in general, and admitting that he had shown much love to his people on all occasions, went into the subject of his quitting them at some length. he reminded him that there were evil spirits as well as good; that it was not for him to say which kind had been troubling him, but that he ought to consider well before he went to live altogether with palefaces. several other speeches were made, some to the same effect, and others applauding his resolve. these latter had, perhaps, some idea that his bringing the pale-faced missionary among them would gratify their taste for the marvellous—a taste that is pretty strong in all uneducated minds.

one man, however, was particularly urgent in endeavouring to dissuade him from his purpose. he was a tall, low-browed man; muscular and well built, but possessed of a most villainous expression of countenance. from a remark that fell from one of the company, charley discovered that his name was misconna, and so learned, to his surprise, that he was the very indian mentioned by redfeather as the man who had been his rival for the hand of wabisca, and who had so cruelly killed the wife of the poor trapper the night on which the chipewyan camp was attacked, and the people slaughtered.

what reason misconna had for objecting so strongly to redfeather’s leaving the community no one could tell, although some of those who knew his unforgiving nature suspected that he still entertained the hope of being able, some day or other, to wreak his vengeance on his old rival. but whatever was his object, he failed in moving redfeather’s resolution; and it was at last admitted by the whole party that redfeather was a “wise chief,” that he knew best what ought to be done under the circumstances, and it was hoped that his promised visit, in company with the missionary, would not be delayed many moons.

that night, in the deep shadow of the trees, by the brook that murmured near the indian camp, while the stars twinkled through the branches overhead, charley introduced redfeather to his friend jacques caradoc, and a friendship was struck up between the bold hunter and the red man that grew and strengthened as each successive day made them acquainted with their respective good qualities. in the same place, and with the same stars looking down upon them, it was further agreed that redfeather should accompany his new friends, taking his wife along with him in another canoe, as far as their several routes led them in the same direction, which was about four or five days’ journey; and that while the one party diverged towards the fort at stoney creek, the other should pursue its course to the missionary station on the shores of lake winnipeg.

but there was a snake in the grass there that they little suspected. misconna had crept through the bushes after them, with a degree of caution that might have baffled their vigilance, even had they suspected treason in a friendly camp. he lay listening intently to all their plans, and when they returned to their camp, he rose out from among the bushes, like a dark spirit of evil, clutched the handle of his scalping-knife, and gave utterance to a malicious growl; then walking hastily after them, his dusky figure was soon concealed among the trees.