His beautiful wife never ate with him. When he
returned in the evening from hunting, she was always glad to see him,
and while he rested himself and smoked, she would cook his meat for him,
and seem anxious to make him comfortable. But he had never seen her eat;
and when he would tell her that he did not like to eat alone, and beg
her to sit down and eat with him, she would say she was not hungry; and
then employ herself about her wigwam, as if she did not wish him to say
any more about it.
Chaske made up his mind that he would find out what his wife lived upon.
So the next morning he took his bow and arrows, as if he were going out
on a day's hunt. After going a short distance from the lodge, he hid
himself in the trees, where he could watch the motions of his wife.
She left the lodge after a while, and with an axe in her hand she
approached a grove of poplar trees. After carefully looking round to
satisfy herself that there was no one near, she cut down a number of the
small and tender poplars, and, carrying them home, ate them as if she
enjoyed them very much. Chaske was infinitely relieved when he saw that
his wife did eat; for it frightened him to think that she lived on
nothing but air.
Pages:
240
241
242
243
244
245
246
247
248
249
250
251
252
253
254
255
256
257
258
259
260
261
262
263
264