[Illustration: 9047]
ANY years ago, a Scotchman and his wife, named M’Dou-gall, emigrated to
America. Having but very little money, he purchased some land upon
the verge of civilization, where it was sold for a low price. By great
exertions and the aid of his neighbors, M’Dougall soon had a comfortable
farm, well stocked. But the inconvenience of distance from the church,
market, and mill, were felt, and caused discontent with the location.
One day, while the farmer was away at the mill, the duty of driving up
the cows to milk devolved on the wife, and that thrifty and industrious
woman went out in quest of them. Not accustomed to going far from the
house, she wandered through the woods, got bewildered, and just before
dark sank upon the ground in despair. An Indian hunter soon came along,
and guessing her situation, induced her to follow him to his wigwam,
where she was kindly fed and lodged for the night by the hunter’s wife.
In the morning, the Indian conducted his guest to her cattle, and thence
home. M’Dou-gall, grateful for his service, presented him with a suit
of clothes, and invited him to become his frequent visitor. Three days
afterwards he returned, and endeavored, partly, by signs, and partly
in broken English, to induce M’Dougall to follow him; but the Scotchman
refused. Time was precious to him who owed all his comforts to hard
labor, and the Indian repeated his entreaties in vain. The poor fellow
looked grieved and disappointed; but a moment after, a sudden thought
struck him.
Mrs. M’Dougall had a young child, which the Indian’s quick eye had not
failed to notice; and finding that words and gestures would not persuade
his Scotch friend, he approached the cradle, seized the child, and
darted out of the house with the speed of the antelope. The father and
mother instantly followed, calling loudly on him to return; but he had
no such intention. He led them on, now slower, now faster, occasionally
turning towards them, laughing and holding up the child to their view.
After proceeding in this manner for some time, the Indian halted on the
margin of a most beautiful prairie, covered with the richest vegetation,
and extending over several thousand acres. In a moment after, the child
was restored to its parents, who, wondering at such strange proceedings,
stood awhile panting for breath. On the other hand, the Indian seemed
overjoyed at the success of his manoevre, and never did a human being
frisk about and gesticulate with greater animation.
At length his feelings found vent in broken English, nearly in these
words:--“You think Indian treacherous; you think him wish steal the
child. No, no, Indian has child of his own. Indian knew you long ago;
saw you when you not see him; saw you hard working man. Some white men
bad and hurt poor Indian. You not bad; you work hard for your wife and
child; but you choose bad place; you never make rich there. Indian see
your cattle far in the forest; think you come and catch them; you not
come; your wife come. Indian find her faint and weary; take her home;
wife fear go in; think Indian kill her! No, no! Indian lead her back;
meet you very sad; then very glad to see her. You kind to Indian; give
him meat and drink and better clothes than your own. Indian grateful;
wish you come here; not come; Indian very sorry; take the child; know
you follow child; if Indian farm, Indian farm here. Good ground; not
many trees; make road in less than half a moon; Indian help you. Indians
your friends; come, live here.”
M’Dougall instantly saw the advantages of the change, and taking the red
man’s advice, the day was soon fixed for the removal of his log-house,
along with the rest of his goods and chattels; and the Indian, true to
his word, brought a party of his red brethren to assist in one of the
most romantic removals that ever took place. A fertile spot was selected
in the “garden of the desert,” a fine farm soon smiled around, and
M’Dougall had no cause to regret the Indian’s friendly manoeuvre.
[Illustration: 0051]
[Illustration: 0052]