k and lip rendered it, if not beautiful, very
attractive. Her hair, which was of jetty blackness, was soft and
shining, and was neatly folded over her forehead, not hanging loose and
disorderly in shaggy masses, as is generally the case with the squaws.
Jane was evidently aware of her superior charms, and may be considered
as an Indian belle, by the peculiar care she displayed in the
arrangement of the black cloth mantle, bound with scarlet, that was
gracefully wrapped over one shoulder, and fastened at her left side with
a gilt brooch. Margaret was younger, of lower stature, and though lively
and rather pretty, yet wanted the quiet dignity of her cousin; she had
more of the squaw in face and figure. The two girls occupied a blanket
by themselves, and were busily engaged in working some most elegant
sheaths of deer-skin, richly wrought over with coloured quills and
beads: they kept the beads and quills in a small tin baking-pan on their
knees; but my old squaw (as I always call Mrs. Peter) held her
porcupine-quills in her mouth, and the fine dried sinews of the deer,
which they make use of instead of thread in work of this sort, in her
bosom.

On my expressing a desire to have some of the porcupine-quills, she gave
me a few of different colour that she was working a pair of mocassins
with, but signified that she wanted "'bead' to work mocsin," by which I
understood I was to give some in exchange for the quills. Indians never
give since they have learned to trade with white men.

She was greatly delighted with the praises I bestowed on Jane. She told
me Jane was soon to marry the young Indian who sat on one side of her in
all the pride of a new blanket coat, red sash, embroidered powder-pouch,
and great gilt clasps to the collar of his coat, which looked as warm
and as white as a newly washed fleece. The old squaw evidently felt
proud of the young couple as she gazed on them, and often repeated, with
a good-tempered laugh, "Jane's husband--marry by and by."

We had so often listened with pleasure to the Indians singing their
hymns of a Sunday night that I requested some of them to sing to us; the
old hunter nodded assent; and, without removing his pipe, with the
gravity and phlegm of a Dutchman, issued his commands, which were as
instantly obeyed by the younger part of the community, and a chorus of
rich voices filled the little hut with a melody that thrilled to our
very hearts.

The hymn was sung in the Indian tong