"Oh, by the way, Snettishane," he said, "I want a squaw to wash for
me and mend my clothes."
Snettishane grunted and suggested Wanidani, who was an old woman
and toothless.
"No, no," interposed the Factor. "What I want is a wife. I've
been kind of thinking about it, and the thought just struck me that
you might know of some one that would suit."
Snettishane looked interested,
whereupon the Factor retraced his
steps, casually and
carelessly to
linger and discuss this new and
incidental topic.
"Kattou?" suggested Snettishane.
"She has but one eye," objected the Factor.
"Laska?"
"Her knees be wide apart when she stands
upright. Kips, your
biggest dog, can leap between her knees when she stands
upright."
"Senatee?" went on the imperturbable Snettishane.
But John Fox feigned anger, crying: "What
foolishness is this? Am
I old, that thou shouldst mate me with old women? Am I toothless?
lame of leg? blind of eye? Or am I poor that no bright-eyed maiden
may look with favour upon me? Behold! I am the Factor, both rich
and great, a power in the land, whose speech makes men tremble and
is obeyed!"
Snettishane was
inwardly pleased, though his sphinx-like visage
never relaxed. He was
drawing the Factor, and making him break
ground. Being a creature so elemental as to have room for but one
idea at a time, Snettishane could
pursue that one idea a greater
distance than could John Fox. For John Fox, elemental as he was,
was still
complex enough to
entertain several glimmering ideas at a
time, which debarred him from pursuing the one as single-heartedly
or as far as did the chief.
Snettishane
calmly continued
calling the roster of eligible
maidens, which, name by name, as fast as uttered, were stamped
ineligible by John Fox, with specified objections appended. Again
he gave it up and started to return to the Fort. Snettishane
watched him go, making no effort to stop him, but
seeing him, in
the end, stop himself.
"Come to think of it," the Factor remarked, "we both of us forgot
Lit-lit. Now I wonder if she'll suit me?"
Snettishane met the
suggestion with a mirthless face, behind the
mask of which his soul grinned wide. It was a
distinct victory.
Had the Factor gone but one step farther, perforce Snettishane
would himself have mentioned the name of Lit-lit, but--the Factor
had not gone that one step farther.
The chief was non-committal
concerning Lit-lit's suitability, till
he drove the white man into
taking the next step in order of
procedure.
"Well," the Factor meditated aloud, "the only way to find out is to
make a try of it." He raised his voice. "So I will give for Lit-
lit ten blankets and three pounds of
tobacco which is good
tobacco."
Snettishane replied with a
gesture which seemed to say that all the
blankets and
tobacco in all the world could not
compensate him for
the loss of Lit-lit and her
manifold virtues. When pressed by the
Factor to set a price, he
coolly placed it at five hundred
blankets, ten guns, fifty pounds of
tobacco, twenty
scarlet cloths,
ten bottles of rum, a music-box, and
lastly the good-will and best
offices of the Factor, with a place by his fire.
The Factor
apparently suffered a stroke of apoplexy, which stroke
was successful in reducing the blankets to two hundred and in
cutting out the place by the fire--an unheard-of condition in the
marriages of white men with the daughters of the soil. In the end,
after three hours more of chaffering, they came to an agreement.
For Lit-lit Snettishane was to receive one hundred blankets, five
pounds of
tobacco, three guns, and a bottle of rum,
goodwill and
best offices included, which according to John Fox, was ten
blankets and a gun more than she was worth. And as he went home
through the wee sma' hours, the three-o'clock sun blazing in the
due north-east, he was unpleasantly aware that Snettishane had
bested him over the bargain.
Snettishane, tired and
victorious, sought his bed, and discovered
Lit-lit before she could escape from the lodge.
He grunted
knowingly: "Thou hast seen. Thou has heard. Wherefore
it be plain to thee thy father's very great
wisdom and