"Bah; you women are always
grumbling and bewailing yourselves; for my part, if I have to starve
a little, Kulu (the meat) is all the sweeter when it comes. I suppose
Michel has killed enough to give you many a merry night, seated round
the camp fire with some good fat ribs or a moose nose, and a fine
kettle of tea; then you wrap yourself in your blanket, or light your
pipe and feel like a 'big master.'"
Peter's picture of comfort and enjoyment pleased the Indians, and
they laughed heartily and testified their approval, all but poor
Accomba. She hung her head, and sadly fondled the baby at her breast.
"You may laugh, boys," she said at length, "and you know what
starving is as well as I do, though you are pretty well off now; it
is not for myself I speak, I can bear that kind of thing as well as
other women, but it comes hard for the children. Before Se Tene, my
man, killed his last moose, we were starving for nearly two moons; a
little dried fish and a rat or two, and now and then a rabbit, was we
got: even the fish failed for some time, and there was hardly a duck
or partridge to be seen. We had to eat two of the dogs at last, but,
poor things, they had little flesh on their bones."
"Eh! eh! e--h!" exclaimed the Indians, who however undemonstrative
under ordinary circumstances, can be full of sympathy where they can
realize the affecting points of a story.
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