I had one shell of peculiar beauty—­my favorite in the whole collection—­a small conch, covered with rich, dark veins.  Each of the visitors successively took up this shell, and by words and gestures expressed her admiration, evidently showing that she had an eye for beauty—­this was on the occasion of the parting visit of my red daughters.

Shortly after the payment had been completed, and the Indians had left, I discovered that my valued shell was missing from the collection.  Could it be that one of the squaws had stolen it?  It was possible—­they would occasionally, though rarely, do such things under the influence of strong temptation.  I tried to recollect which, among the party, looked most likely to have been the culprit.  It could not have been the Washington woman—­she was partly civilized, and knew better.

A few weeks afterwards Mrs. Yellow Thunder again made her appearance, and carefully unfolding a gay-colored chintz shawl, which she carried rolled up in her hand, she produced the shell, and laid it on the table before me.  I did not know whether to show, by my countenance, displeasure at the trick she had played me, or joy at receiving my treasure back again, but at length decided that it was the best policy to manifest no emotion whatever.

She prolonged her visit until my husband’s return, and he then questioned her about the matter.

“She had taken the shell to her village, to show to some of her people, who did not come to the payment.”

“Why had she not asked her mother’s leave before carrying it away?”

“Because she saw that her mother liked the shell, and she was afraid she would say, No.”

This was not the first instance in which Madame Washington had displayed the shrewdness which was a predominant trait in her character.  During the visit of the Indians to the Eastern cities, they were taken to various exhibitions, museums, menageries, theatres, etc.  It did not escape their observation that some silver was always paid before entrance, and they inquired the reason.  It was explained to them.  The woman brightened up, as if struck with an idea.

“How much do you pay for each one?”

Her Father told her.

“How do you say that in English?”

“Two shillings.”

“Two shinnin—­humph” (good).

The next day, when, as usual, visitors began to flock to the rooms where the Indians were sojourning, the woman and a young Indian, her confederate, took their station by the door, which they kept closed.  When any one knocked, the door was cautiously opened, and the woman, extending her hand, exclaimed—­“Two shinnin.”

This was readily paid in each instance, and the game went on, until she had accumulated a considerable sum.  But this did not satisfy her.  At the first attempt of a visitor to leave the room, the door was held close, as before, the hand was extended, and “Two shinnin” again met his ear.  He tried to explain that, having paid for his entrance, he must go out free.  With an innocent shake of the head, “Two shinnin,” was all the English she could understand.