"You are but an idle boaster, Crazy Cow. You make much noise like the wind in the trees. That is all it amounts to. You do not make me feel bad by what you say."
Crazy Cow, seeing that he could not get Ted angry with his banter, tried a new tack.
"Hah, little bay pony," he cried, addressing Bingo. "Are you a squaw pony?"
He paused in a listening attitude as if he was paying close attention to what the pony was saying.
"Yes, you are ashamed to be ridden by a squaw who does not fight, but only talks. Come over here, squaw pony, and be ridden by a man."
Again his speech was greeted by the laughter of the Indians, to whom it was interpreted by the disguised white man.
"So you think I will not fight, eh? You think I am a squaw, do you?" said Ted quietly.
The Indian only laughed.
"I will show you who is the squaw. I will thrash you with my quirt until you cry out with pain. You may keep your gun. I am not afraid of it."
"Now you begin to talk a little like a man. But you won't fight. Little pony, you are ridden by a squaw. Why don't you throw him off and come to me, who is a fighter?"