the squaws to wheel the papooses in, 'cause he didn't like to see
them tie the children on their backs and carry them around. Where
the trundlers came Pa showed the squaws how they worked, by
putting a papoose in one of the baby wagons, and pushing it around
the camp, and by gosh, if they didn't make Pa wheel all the babies
in the tribe, for two days, and the Indians turned out and gave
the great father three cheers, but when the squaws wanted to get
in the wagons and be wheeled around, Pa kicked. After teaching the
squaws how to put the children in the wagons and work them, we
went off on the hunt, and when we came back every squaw had her
papoose in a baby wagon, but instead of wheeling the wagon in
civilised fashion, they slung the wagons, babies and all, on their
backs, and carried the whole thing on their backs. Gee, but that
made Pa hot. He says you can't do anything with a race of people
that haven't got brain enough to imitate. He says monkeys would
know better than to carry baby wagons on their backs. I never
thought that Indians could be jealous, but they are terrors when
the jealousy germ begins to work. There is no doubt but that the
squaws got to thinking a great deal of pa, 'cause he talked with
them, through the Carlisle Indian for an interpreter, and as he
sat on a camp chair and looked like a great white god with a red
nose, and they gathered around him, and he told them stories of
women in the east, and how they dressed and went to parties, and
how the men worked for them that they might live in luxury, and
how they had servants to do their cooking, and maids to dress
them, and carriages to ride in, and lovers to slave for them, it
is not to be wondered at that those poor creatures, who never had
a kind word from their masters, and who were looked upon as lower
than the dogs, should look upon Pa as the grandest man that ever
lived, and I noticed, myself, that they gave him glances of love