“Let me see, George, you were saying something a little while ago about a fellow that you saw run away from the charge of an antelope.”
George knew what was coming and rallied to “repel boarders.”
“Yes; I saw a great hulking youngster do that very thing. You will find it hard to believe anyone could show such cowardice, but Mul-tal-la was with me, and he’ll tell you it is true.”
“Do you think that the chap, who no doubt was trying to lure the antelope to his destruction, made better time than you did when you deserted me at sight of this big bear?”
“There may not have been much difference in the speed of the two, but you see the case is different. One boy ran from an animal that is as harmless as a rabbit, while the other fled from a beast that would have sent a half-dozen veterans flying, even though they had loaded rifles in their hands.”
“But I stood my ground.”
“Because you didn’t know any better. You were too scared to run.”
“But not too scared to shoot and hit the game. Folks generally say that the fellow who runs away is frightened and not the one who keeps his place and sends a bullet right into the face of the danger. What do you think of it, George?”
“I have already told you what I think. Let us leave the question to Mul-tal-la and Deerfoot to settle when we go back to camp.”
But Victor, unaware that the Shawanoe had heard the story long before from the Blackfoot, was unwilling to have it brought to his knowledge. He knew he cut a sorry figure when fleeing from the frantic antelope, and he did not like to hear references to it. He would prefer to appear ridiculous in the eyes of any person in the world rather than in those of the young Shawanoe. He saw his chance and used it.