“Is he a chief?”
“Yes; they like to git a white man on the’r side. He lays round yer som’ers, an’ does the dirty work of the Blackfeet. That’s his way, durn him. Why, ye never did see another sech critter in yer born days—the wust ye ever saw, I tell ye. Makes no more of takin’ a sculp then I do of skinnin’ a buffler. What ar’ ye tryin’ to do now, Jan?”
The Teuton was craning his neck, looking anxiously up the hill.
“I dinks I sees a Plackfeet,” replied the other. “He pees on the hillside yonder.”
“Pshaw, Jan; ’tain’t no sech thing—leastways, I kain’t see no sech critter myself. I guess ye didn’t see nobody.”
“Did too, Penn Miffin. Who’s a liar? I sees him over dere py dat bine tree. He vas a pig fellows, bretty near so pig ash a house. I never sees anypody so pig ash he vas. I dinks he pe some shiant.”
“Where was he?” said Ben, anxiously.
“Over yonder, mit der dree. I sees him. I dinks aff ye dakes yer gun unt coes to him unt kills him, mebbe it vould pe goot plans.”
“Hadn’t you better go yourself?” said the Frenchman, maliciously.
“I dinks I hain’t got time,” said Jan, quickly. “How can I go ven I can not dell vether dere pe anybotty dere? Penn coes mit himself.”