Filled with good cheer and mountain mutton, one of the free trappers
began to repine at the solitude of his lodge, and to experience the
force of that great law of nature, "it is not meet for man to live
alone."
After a night of grave cogitation he repaired to Kowsoter, the
Pierced-nose chief, and unfolded to him the secret workings of his
bosom.
"I want," said he, "a wife. Give me one from among your tribe. Not a
young, giddy-pated girl, that will think of nothing but flaunting and
finery, but a sober, discreet, hard-working squaw; one that will share
my lot without flinching, however hard it may be; that can take care of
my lodge, and be a companion and a helpmate to me in the wilderness."
Kowsoter promised to look round among the females of his tribe, and
procure such a one as he desired. Two days were requisite for the
search. At the expiration of these, Kowsoter, called at his lodge, and
informed him that he would bring his bride to him in the course of
the afternoon. He kept his word. At the appointed time he approached,
leading the bride, a comely copper-colored dame attired in her Indian
finery. Her father, mother, brothers by the half dozen and cousins by
the score, all followed on to grace the ceremony and greet the new and
important relative.
The trapper received his new and numerous family connection with proper
solemnity; he placed his bride beside him, and, filling the pipe, the
great symbol of peace, with his best tobacco, took two or three whiffs,
then handed it to the chief who transferred it to the father of the
bride, from whom it was passed on from hand to hand and mouth to mouth
of the whole circle of kinsmen round the fire, all maintaining the most
profound and becoming silence.
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