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www.blogalaxia.com Directorio y Buscador de Blogs Latinos Biblioteca Arturo Illia 2010

Nae hoe-bu keurapeuteunun changue-hro kaduk cha itseyo.

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Then We-hro spoke – spoke in all the English he knew.

The Shagganappi 1913

We-hro loved the tawny fringes and the hammered silver quite as much as a white lady loves diamonds and pearls; he loved to see his father's face painted in fierce reds, yellows and blacks, but most of all he loved the unvarying chuck-a, chuck-a, chuck-a of the great mud-turtle rattles that the "musicians" skilfully beat upon the benches before them.

The Shagganappi 1913

The great Anglican bishop turned at that moment, and, catching the sight of suffering on little We-hro's face, said aloud to the man who spoke both languages:

The Shagganappi 1913

For days the boy kept his dog in the shelter of the cedars, tied up tightly with an old rope, and sleeping in a warm raccoon skin, which We-hro smuggled away from his own simple bed.

The Shagganappi 1913

[Page 124] towards the log house which was We-hro's home and scratching at the door to get in by the warm fire to dry his shaggy coat.

The Shagganappi 1913

We-hro was cleaning his father's dugout canoe, after a night of fish spearing.

The Shagganappi 1913

The Superintendent of Indian Affairs was taking his periodical drive about the Reserve when he chanced to meet old "Ten-Canoes," We-hro's father.

The Shagganappi 1913

Oh, little pagan We-hro had his life filled to overflowing with much that the civilized white boy would gave all his dimes and dollars to know.

The Shagganappi 1913