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"Monima! Is that your name?"
"Yes."
"It is a pretty name."
The girl laughed and appeared to be pleased with the compliment, though it was only to her name. She seemed in turn to be possessed by curiosity, for she asked:
"What white boy's name?"
"Jasper."
"Jasper," she repeated, with difficulty.
"Isn't it a pretty name?"
"No," said Monima, laughing.
"I am sorry you don't like it, Monima."
"I like white boy. He will be big warrior some day."
"I don't know about that, Monima. So your father is a chief?"
"Yes," said Monima, proudly. "Great chief."
"Did he give you this canoe?"
"Yes."
"Have you any brothers and sisters?"
"One brother, young man; no sister."
By this time they had reached the other side. Monima skilfully drew up the canoe alongside, and Jasper jumped out. He stood on the bank, and drew from his vest-pocket a silver half-dollar, which he handed to Monima.
"Monima no want money," said the girl, proudly.
"Keep it to remember white boy," said Jasper.
"Monima will remember white boy without money."
Jasper reluctantly put the money in his pocket, but he did not like to accept the favor from Monima without rendering her some return. He was in doubt at first, but finally an idea occurred to him. He had half a dozen photographs of himself, which he had recently had taken in St.
Louis. He drew out one of these and extended it to Monima.
"Take that, Monima," he said. "Keep that and remember me."
Monima's face lighted up with wonder and admiration when she saw the photograph, for she had never seen one before. She looked from the picture to Jasper, and from Jasper back again to the picture, and laughed softly.
"White boy's picture?" she said.
"Yes, Monima. Do you think it looks like me?"
She nodded emphatically.
"Two white boy--here and there," she said, pointing first to the picture, then to Jasper.
"Good-bye, Monima," he said.
But the Indian girl was evidently tired of the river, for she fastened the canoe and walked by his side. He kept up a conversation for some time, till she turned aside and entered a path which led into the woods.
"Does your father live there?" he asked.
"Yes," said Monima.
"Good-bye," he said.
She didn't say good-bye, but uttered a word which was probably the Indian equivalent for it, and was soon lost to his sight.
"Well, that's romantic, to begin with," thought Jasper. "The daughter of a great chief has ferried me across the river, and I have given her my photograph. The next romantic thing that happens to me may be my losing my way, but I hope not."
He had a general idea of the way he wanted to go, but after awhile he became perplexed, and was led to doubt whether he had not gone astray.
"I wish I could find somebody to guide me," he thought.
He had his wish. A few rods farther on he came upon a man stretched upon the gra.s.s under a tree.
"I have lost my way," he began, but before he could finish the sentence the man sprang to his feet, and, to his dismay, he recognized Jack, the man who had had him locked up in St. Louis.
CHAPTER x.x.xVI.
IN DIFFICULTIES.
Jack looked at first surprised, then smiled with malicious joy as he recognized the boy who accosted him.
"Ha! my chicken, it's you, is it?" he said. "You remember me, don't you?"
"Yes, I remember you," said Jasper.
"I thought I'd get hold of you again some time," said Jack, "but hang me if I expected to find you out here. What brings you here?"
"I came here on business," said Jasper.
"So you are a man of business, are you?" sneered the burglar.