And it was truly pretty--from the soft, wampum-broidered shirt with its hanging thrums, to the clinging skirt and delicate thigh-moccasins, wonderfully fringed with purple and inset in most curious designs with painted quills and beads and blue diamond-fronds from feathers of a little jay-bird's wing.
Bit by bit I counted out the currency; and it took some little time.
But when it was done she took it eagerly enough, laughing her thanks and dancing away toward her lodge.

And if her dusky sisters envied her they smiled on me no less merrily as I took my leave of them.

And very courteously a stately chief escorted me to the campfire's edge.

The Oneidas were ever gentlemen; and their women gently bred.
Once more at my own hut door, I entered, with a nod to Mayaro, who sat smoking there in freshened war paint.

One quick and penetrating glance he darted at the Oneida garment on my arm, but except for that betrayed no curiosity.
"Well, Mayaro," said I, in excellent spirits, "you still wear war paint hopefully, I see.