“Am I frait mit you, Shule? No. I ish not, I dells you blain. Off you like to pe frents mit me dat ish goot. Off you ton’t like it, vat do I care? Take your own vay.”
“I’ll give one of you a back-handed wipe in a minnit!” roared Ben. “Shet up, both of you. Jan, we have got to go and skin the bear you shot yesterday.”
“Who kilt ter pear, Penn Miffin?” cried Jan. “Vas it Shule? Vas it you? or vas it a pig Doochman named Jan Schneider, eh? Vell, I coes mit you off you like.”
“I should like to see a bear before he is cut up,” said Millicent.
“Would you? Then you shall take Jule’s hoss, and ride with us. I’ll take mine, ’cause I like to ride, and Jan may take his because I want it to bring home the meat. You two stay and watch the camp.”
The three rode out of the camp together. When out of sight of the Frenchman, Ben beckoned Jan close to him.
“Why did ye tumble Jules over this morning, Jan?”
“Vell, he keeps sayin’, Doochmans, Doochmans, Doochmans, till I vas tire of hear him. Sh’pose I t’rows him town on his pack, den he knows ash I vill shtand no nonsense mit him no more. I pees not a vool.”
“I’m jubous you’ve made him yer innimy,” said Ben. “I don’t like that. I don’t want no quarrelin’ in my camp. When I take chaps out with me they must be the right kind of men, and not too hash in their ways. Now I don’t reckon it’ll hurt ye much to show him ye ain’t afraid of him.”
“You are speaking of your companion,” said Millicent. “Do you know that I am afraid of him? He has looked at me in a way I do not understand. Did your friend quarrel with him this morning?”