But, in about a
month, Key-way-no-wut appeared bringing some dirty Indian sugar, and
said "I have brought back the sugar that I borrowed of you, and I want
my otter skin back." Mr. B. told him, "I _bought_ an otter skin of you,
but if you will return the other articles you have got for it, perhaps I
can get it for you." "Where is the skin?" said he very quickly, "what
have you done with it?" Mr. B. replied it was in the trader's store,
where he (the Indian) could not get it. At this information he was
furious, laid his hands on his knife and tomahawk, and commanded Mr. B.
to bring it at once. Mr. B. found this was the crisis, where he must
take a stand or be "rode over rough shod" by this man; his wife, who was
present was much alarmed, and begged he would get the skin for the
Indian, but he told her that "either he or the Indian would soon be
master of his house, and if she was afraid to see it decided which was
to be so, she had better retire." He turned to Key-way-no-wut, and
addressed him in a stern voice as follows: "I will _not_ give you the
skin. How often have you come to my house, and I have shared with you
what I had. I gave you tobacco when you were well, and medicine when you
were sick, and you never went away from my wigwam with your hands
empty. And this is the way you return my treatment to you. I had thought
you were a man and a chief, but you are not, you are nothing but an old
woman. Leave this house, and never enter it again.
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