She was a wise and good woman. She took him in; she said she was sorry
to see him so woe-begone; she pitied his sad state; she brought a suit
of her husband's clothes; she told him to dress himself and be cleaned.
He did as she bade. He sat by the side of the wigwam, and looked surly
and sad, but kept quiet. It was all a new thing to him.
She arose and went out. She kept gathering sticks. The Chenoo rose and
followed her. She was in great fear. "Now," she thought, "my death is
near; now he will kill and devour me."
The Chenoo came to her. He said, "Give me the axe!" She gave it, and he
began to cut down the trees. Man never saw such chopping! The great
pines fell right and left, like summer saplings; the boughs were hewed
and split as if by a tempest. She cried out, "_Noo, tabeagul
boohsoogul_!" "My father, there is enough!" [Footnote: The
tremendous pine chopper is a character in another Indian tale.] He laid
down the axe; he walked into the wigwam and sat down, always in grim
silence. The woman gathered her wood, and remained as silent on the
opposite side.
She heard her husband coming. She ran out and told him all. She asked
him to do as she was doing. He thought it well. He went in and spoke
kindly. He said, "_N'chilch_," "My father-in-law," and asked where
he had been so long. The Chenoo stared in amazement, but when he heard
the man talk of all that had happened for years his fierce face grew
gentler.
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