“I put a ball right through the’r karkidges, an’ then I kin reason with ’em to great advantage. They understand what I mean.”
“Vat ef he pe deat, Penn?”
“That’s the beauty of my style. He kain’t resist the line of argyment I hev adopted. He appreciates its force, I allow. Don’t ye see?”
“Yaw. Kill him unt den talks mit him. Dat ish goot vay! I does him myself, pymepye, ven I kills an Injun.”
“I reckon ye’ll hev a chaince, one of these days. What ar’ they prowlin’ roun’ thet beaver-dam fur? The’r’ after my traps, the sneakin’ varmints. It’ll bother ’em some to git ’em, anyhow; I’m ruther good at hidin’ traps. But I’ll mark every Injun in the party, an’ one of these yer days we’ll hev a settlement. Keep out of sight. Ef they see us, they’ll never rest tell they git us. Lay low!”
“All right, Penn. I dakes care. I no likes to fight mit dem unless I have to; put vat I dinks ish dis: Aff’n’ man ash vas vant to lif so long vat he can, vill not vite vor his life, ven he haf to do it, den he vas vun pig vool. I not like to vite. I pees not a vitin’ character. Put off dey cooms, I kills all of dem vat I can. Dat ish drue vat I dells you.”
“Thet’s the right kind of talk, old man,” said Ben. “I like thet. It sounds like a man. Don’t rush into danger, but don’t dodge it. Thet’s the way to talk it. Thet’s the way to be sensible. Kin ye see any thing of Jule yit?”
“I don’t see him noveres,” replied Jan.
“I kain’t think whar he’s hid, or what them buggers ar’ pokin’ round thet dam fer. He kain’t be thar, kin he? Ain’t one of them Injuns goin’ into the water?”
“More ash vun of ’em,” said Jan. “More ash a tozen, I dinks.”