old," he said, "and cannot travel far. He will stay with
the Tetons, that they may learn wisdom from his words. What Sioux has a
tongue like my father? No; let his words be very soft, but let them be
very clear. Mahtoree will give skins and buffaloes. He will give the
young men of the Pale-faces wives, but he cannot give away any who live
in his own lodge."

Perfectly satisfied, himself, with this laconic reply, the chief was
moving towards his expecting counsellors, when suddenly returning, he
interrupted the translation of the trapper by adding--

"Tell the Great Buffaloe" (a name by which the Tetons had already
christened Ishmael), "that Mahtoree has a hand which is always open.
See," he added, pointing to the hard and wrinkled visage of the
attentive Esther, "his wife is too old, for so great a chief. Let him
put her out of his lodge. Mahtoree loves him as a brother. He is his
brother. He shall have the youngest wife of the Teton. Tachechana, the
pride of the Sioux girls, shall cook his venison, and many braves will
look at him with longing minds. Go, a Dahcotah is generous."

The singular coolness, with which the Teton concluded this audacious
proposal, confounded even the practised trapper. He stared after the
retiring form of the Indian, with an astonishment he did not care to
conceal, nor did he renew his attempt at interpretation until the
person of Mahtoree was blended with the cluster of warriors, who had so
long, and with so characteristic patience, awaited his return.

"The Teton chief has spoken very plainly," the old man continued; "he
will not give you the lady, to whom the Lord in heaven knows you have no
claim, unless it be such as the wolf has to the lamb. He will not give
you the child, you call your niece; and therein I acknowledge that I
am far from certain he has the same justice on his side. Moreover,
neighbour squatter, he flatly denies your demand for me, miserable and
worthless as I am; nor do I think he has been unwise in so doing, seeing
that I should have many reasons against journeying far in your company.
But he makes you an offer, which it is right and convenient you should
know. The Teton says through me, who am no more than a mouthpiece, and
therein not answerable for the sin of his words, but he says, as this
good woman is getting past the comely age, it is reasonable for you
to tire of such a wife. He therefore tells you to turn her out of your
lodge, and when it is empty, he wil