380 A GOOD GUN. 



The length of this chapter prevents me from recording 

 in detail the numerous hunts which my friends and I 

 enjoyed under the orders of Rahm-o-j-or, and in company 

 with his copper-coloured subjects. If I were to put down 

 here the exact number of the bisons killed during our 

 sojourn with our hosts the Redskins, no one would be- 

 lieve me, and I am desirous to avoid even the suspicion 

 of gasconading. 



In 1841, on the eve of my departure for the United 

 States, I had purchased a first-rate musket at Saint 

 Etienne, for a very moderate price compared with the un- 

 doubted excellence of the weapon. This double-barrel 

 had accompanied me in all my " cygenetic" excursions, and 

 I declare that it seemed to me superior even to the rifled 

 carbines which my hunting companions made use of. 

 Its accuracy and precision did not escape the sagacious 

 eye of Rahm-o-j-or, and I had remarked that on different 

 occasions he cast stealthy glances at it, like those of a 

 lover at the woman he loves. One morning, shortly be- 

 fore the epoch fixed by my friends and myself for our 

 return to Saint Louis, the Indian chief resolutely came 

 up to me, and in his expressive language said : 



" My white brother possesses a good gun ; instead of 

 carrying it away with him, he ought to leave it to his 

 good friend Rahm-o-j-or, who, oil account of his rank as 

 chief, should have a finer weapon than any of his sub- 

 iects." 



"I would do so willingly," I replied, "if I were not 

 particularly attached to this gun, which has long been my 

 friend and companion, and whose faithfulness I have so 

 often tested." 



