“He wishes to shave my brother,” gravely explained Deerfoot. “When the hairs come on his own face he plucks them out. He would do the same with my brother.”
“I’ll do my own shaving when the time comes; let him understand that,” said Victor, showing his displeasure so plainly that the visitor gravely desisted.
CHAPTER XXVII
DOWN THE COLUMBIA.
THE Blackfoot was gratified to find himself able to understand the jargon spoken by the visitors, although he did not know to what tribe they belonged. A marked similarity showed between many words in the two tongues, and conversation progressed better than would have been supposed, Deerfoot being able to comprehend almost as much as his friend.
Night was closing in, and the fact that the explorers did not start a fire when such an abundance of fuel was at hand clearly surprised the strangers. They looked at the ground and then pointed to the lumber. He who was apparently the leader began talking earnestly to Mul-tal-la. His meaning soon became clear. He was urging him and his friends to make use of the timber. The Blackfoot shook his head and replied they could not take it without the consent of the owner. The leader grinned and said it belonged to him and the two men with him.
That put another face on the matter. Deerfoot told the boys to go to work and bring all the wood they needed. He sympathized with them, but he would not yield on a question of principle. It need not be said that the brothers did not let the grass grow under their feet. It was almost cold enough for ice, but, more than all, they needed the fire for cooking the salmon that had been taken from the stream.
The visitors became very friendly. They were armed with bows and arrows, and showed a willingness to help in gathering fuel, but their offer was declined, and the steel and tinder—another source of astonishment to them—soon set a vigorous blaze going, and the broiling fish sent out a fragrant and appetizing odor. There was an abundance for all, and the visitors accepted the invitation to join in the meal. They ate sparingly, as if afraid of depriving their hosts of what they needed, and when through, each produced a long-stemmed pipe, filled it with tobacco, and smoked with apparent enjoyment.
The strangers remained for an hour after the meal. Then, having smoked all that was in the bowls, they gravely shook out the ashes, carefully stowed the pipes under their blankets, and rose to go. The leader beckoned to Mul-tal-la to accompany him for a few paces, so as to be beyond hearing of his friends. The Blackfoot complied, and the conversation between the two may be thus liberally interpreted:
“A bad Indian lives down the river,” said the visitor.