in her life so sad that from the day of her recovery she was considered to
be under the special care of the Good Spirit, so that even the most
influential chiefs or hunters had a superstitious fear of showing any
temper, or making any bitter retort, no matter what she might say.

Years before this time Mary was the wife of a cruel pagan Indian who bore
the English name of Robinson. Although she was slight of figure, and never
very strong, he exacted from Mary a great deal of hard work and was vexed
and angry if, when heavily burdened with the game he had shot, she did not
move as rapidly along on the trail as he did, carrying only his gun and
ammunition.

Once, when they were out in the woods some miles from his wigwam, he shot a
full-grown deer and ordered her to bring it into the camp on her back.
Picking up his gun he started on ahead, and being a large, stalwart man,
and moving with the usual rapidity of the Indians on the homeward trail, he
soon reached his wigwam. Unfortunately for him--and, as it turned out, for
Mary also--he found some free-traders[1] at his abode awaiting his return.
They had few goods for trade in their outfit, but they had a keg of fire
water, which has ever been the scourge of the Indians.

[Footnote 1: Fur buyers who were not agents of the Fur Company.]

Robinson informed them of his success in shooting the deer and that it was
even now being brought in. The traders not only purchased what furs
Robinson had on hand but also the two hind quarters of the deer which Mary
was bringing home. Robinson at once began drinking the fire water which he
had received as part payment.

He was naturally irritable, and short-tempered even when sober, but he was
much more so when under the influence of spirituous liquors. The
unprincipled traders, knowing this, and wishing to see him in one of his
tantrums, began in a bantering way to question whether he had really shot a
deer, since his wife was so long in coming with it.

This made him simply furious, and when Mary did at length arrive, laboring
under the two-hundred-pound deer, she was met by her husband now wild with
passion and the white man's fire water. Little suspecting danger she threw
the deer from her shoulders, where it had been supported by the carrying
strap across her forehead. Weary and panting, she turned to go into the
wigwam for her skinning knife, but ere she had gone a dozen steps she was
startled by a yell from Robinson which cau