Mr. Brill looked narrowly at the Indian chief and his followers. The redmen maintained a dignified silence, seeming to prefer to leave it to their leader to settle the dispute.
“Indian bear!” exclaimed the chief again, and he took a step toward the carcass of bruin, as if to see what the two whites would do toward disputing his claim. “Indian bear!”
“So you said before, Standing Horse,” remarked Harvey Brill, calmly. “I ought to know it by this time. I’m not deaf. Only I don’t quite agree with you.”
The miner, too, had dropped his jargon of Indian talk, and was speaking in English, since he saw that the redman used that tongue, though how perfectly was yet to be learned.
“Bah! White man heap smart—boys smart too. Come by eagle wings to get bear. Indian shoot first.”
“That’s not so, and you know it, Standing Horse!” exclaimed the miner, sharply. “We did come by eagle wings out to this country, and by that I suppose you mean our airship. But if you think we came here to be cheated out of our rights by you fellows, you’ve got another think coming!”
“Bah! White man think much—talk much,” half sneered the redman.
“Well, I always say what I think, which is more than I can say about you, Standing Horse, and them that’s with you,” retorted Harvey Brill. “What makes you claim that bear as yours? This young man here—and he owns part of the eagle machine—he shot that bear as cleanly as I ever want to see one toppled over. He fired first, and it wasn’t until after the brute was falling that you fired. Any of your men will say the same thing, too, if they want to tell the truth.”
“Indian always have straight tongue!” murmured the chief, and some of his followers could be heard to mutter as they gathered closer about him.