"Why don't he talk white man lingo to me, then, instead of his old gibberish that he can't possibly understand himself? Ask the old snoozer what's cooking in that pot. It smells bully and I'm hungry."
Ned turned to the Indian and pointing to the steaming pot, said:
"Nar-kee? (What is it?)"
"Lock-a-wa. (Turtle.)"
"Esoka bonus che. (I want some.)"
"Humbuggus cha. (Come eat.)"
The boys took turns with the big, wooden, family spoon and found the mess very good. There was another kettle of which the Indians ate freely into which Dick dipped his spoon. He made a wry face as he swallowed the portion he had scooped up and said to Ned:
"Tell your copper-faced friend that he had better give that swill back to the pigs he stole it from."
"Be careful, Dick, he understands."
"Then let him say so in a decent language and I'll apologize for hurting his feelings, but I won't say that stuff is fit to eat, not if I am tied to the stake."