She could not speak one word of English, but
her lord, whom she seemed to adore, could make himself understood very
well by signs and a word now and then.
Powder-Face wore a blanket, but underneath it was a shirt of fine
skins, the front of which was almost covered with teeth, beads, and
wampum. His hair was roped on each side and hung in front, and the
scalp lock on top was made conspicuous by the usual long feather stuck
through it.
The time came when dinner could no longer be put off, so we sat down.
Our menu in this place is necessarily limited, but a friend at Fort
Dodge had added to our stores by sending us some fresh potatoes and
some lettuce by the mail wagon just the day before, and both of these
Powder-Face seemed to enjoy. In fact, he ate of everything, but Wauk
was more particular--lettuce, potatoes, and ham she would not touch.
Their table manners were not of the very best form, as might be
expected, but they conducted themselves rather decently--far better
than I had feared they would. All the time I was wondering what that
squaw was thinking of things! Powder-Face was taken to Washington last
year with chiefs of other nations to see the "Great Father," so he
knew much of the white man's ways, but Wauk was a wild creature of the
plains.
We kept them bountifully supplied with everything on the table, so our
own portion of the dinner would remain unmolested, although neither
Faye nor I had much appetite just then.
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