“’Cause ’tain’t often you see a white man in these parts; you’re the first one I’ve seen.”
“And how is it you are here yourself?”
“Wal, stranger, there’s a long story fastened to that question—a longer one than I care about spinning at present.”
“You are not a prisoner, I hope.”
“It was some time last fall I got tuk, and I’ve been with them, of course, ever since.”
“And why have you remained with them so long? It strikes me that if I had the fine opportunity you have, I should not be long waiting to bid them farewell.”
“You see, when I landed down here, it was winter, and if you’re any hunter, as I calculate you are, from your dress, you must know that a fellow from the States would make poor work tramping a thousand miles at such a time. So I concluded to wait till spring, and have been thinking about going for the last month or two, but, somehow or other I haven’t got started; I suppose ’cause I haven’t had a good start.”
“What were you doing on the lake?”
“I came down this morning to fish, and seeing you on t’other side, took you to be an Injin fishin’ and so I paddled across.”