"Big lie—he drunk—don't know nothing—lay sleep on ground."
"How do you know? Did you see him?"
"Me gib him fire-water—much like it—drink good deal—tumble over like tree hain't got root."
"Did you ever give it him before?" asked the young wife, her curiosity supplanting her alarm for the moment.
"Gib him offin—gib him every day—much like it—drink much."
Again the wife's instinctive fear came back to her, and she endeavored to conceal it by a calm, unimpassioned exterior.
"Won't you come in and rest yourself until Mr. Richter returns?"
"Don't want to see him," replied the savage, sullenly.
"Who do you wish to see then?"
"You—t'ink much of you."