He was no lover of the white men who had invaded his domain and driven his people to seek the refuge of the mountain fastnesses, and he intimated plainly enough that he should not be sorry to see Dawson City speedily deserted by the white intruders. As for gold, the idea of grown men seeking for the yellow metal aroused his keen amusement, and he was very incredulous about my statements as to its value in the wigwams of the white people. After the subject of his woes had been gone into at great length, and our hearty sympathies enlisted, he remained silent for a time as if absorbed in thought. Then his eyes surveyed the mining implements and firearms in the tent, and finally rested upon my nugget collection with a newly-awakened sparkle of interest.
"You come wi' me, Mis'r Mac," he said thoughtfully, after a long pause, "Heap big bear on Thron-Diuck; you come wi' King James——"
I shook my head vigorously; we were not very anxious to shoot big game at that time, but his hospitality would not be denied.
"Me show you whar big gold come from. Me show you Gold Bottom," he hastened to add: "too much gold for white men in Dawson—me show you, Mis'r Mac."
Stewart was so astounded at the old chief's last words, spoken in broken English, that he nearly chopped his fingers with the axe instead of the solidified flour he was preparing to bake.
"I'll gang," he bellowed.
"An' me," growled Mac, who, like his comrade, had only understood the last sentence.
King James smoked stolidly for a few moments, then patted Stewart patronisingly on the back. "You good squaw," he said, gazing at the half-baked flour with much approval, "you come wi' me."
The appellation "squaw" by no means pleased the fiery Stewart, and he would have burst out angrily had I not restrained him.
"Yes, I guess we'll go with you, King James," I replied. "I want to see Gold Bottom Creek badly, and I don't anticipate any evil effects from too much gold." And so the compact was made, and old "Leatherskin," as Stewart promptly dubbed him, smiled softly when I explained to him the workings of my big game rifle, and went into a transport of delight on being presented with a serviceable Colt revolver and a box of cartridges. Suddenly his face clouded, and he said anxiously—