Next morning the Chief came to take his daughter home, thanking mother
for taking care of her during his absence. We were all invited to attend
the great feast with the other Chemokamon's (white men) from the other
side of the river. It had been told to the tribe that morning of the
coming marriage of the Chief's daughter to the Canadian Chief's son,
who had much land and stock to give his bride. When he talked with
mother about it she asked him about the other young man and if he had
not promised Mary to him. He answered, "We come of a proud and haughty
race. This young man has much land and riches while the other has
nothing to give my daughter. No lands, no moneys." Mother said to him,
"You will miss Mary from your wigwam." At this he softened, then saying,
"I have power to extend the time of Mary's marriage."
On the day of the feast the sun shone clear and bright. Our boys were up
early and all seemed to be in a hurry. Grandpa had made a little cart
for Bob to draw me in, so Bob's harness was all trimmed with gay colored
ribbons. Mother put on my little red dress and pretty beaded moccasins
which Mary had made for me. Then I was put into the cart and old Bob
trotted off so proudly, thinking perhaps of his younger days when he had
brought the great loads of furs from the Lake Superior trapping grounds
to the Sault and Mackinac Islands to be sold to the traders there. Those
were proud days for the voyagers when all the village came out to meet
them from their long trips. After crossing the river we were joined by
the people on that side, who were a happy lot. This was a holiday for
them all. An Indian feast which none had ever before attended. Something
to write about to their far away homes. All went along singing. Old
grandpa singing his French and Spanish glee songs with the boys
joining, which made the woods ring. We soon came to the lake, and the
village of many wigwams was close beside the water.