He caressed his rifle affectionately, and accepted an invitation to smoke.
“Ye’ve done wrong,” he continued, “’cordin’ to my notion, in lettin’ that tradin’ crittur go. Ef the red-skins wanted to kill him, I don’t believe this child would hev hindered ’em.”
“Would you wish them to murder a fellow-creature—a man of our own race?”
“I don’t call it murder to kill snakes. I don’t consider that chap a feller-crittur, and he ain’t a man of my race, sartin. He lacks a heap of bein’ a white man, and he’s wuss’n a red-skin. Even a Digger Injun would try to help another Digger out of trouble; but that tradin’ chap wouldn’t lift a finger to save yer skulp, onless he was well paid fur it. I know what he’s made of, and it’s the kind o’ timber, to my notion, that ort to burn. Ef he had had his way, Dove-eye would hev been chopped into little pieces by this time.”
“But she is safe, and he can do no more harm. We will soon be far from here.”
“I’d like to give the crittur a talkin’ to afore I go. When do ye allow to leave?”
“To-morrow. We can hardly get ready to start to-night. Jose must go to the village and bring us a load of provisions. Your horse and mine are safe where we left them. You must make the Indians give you at least two horses to carry you to the Crows. Jose will get one for himself, and that will be enough to carry ourselves and our plunder.”
“Are ye goin’ to take that thar niggur?”
“Yes. He wishes to follow his mistress, and she wishes it, too. We will start in the morning, if you see no objection to that move. We will have a clear field for a start, and it will be several days, I think, before the Arapahoes find out that we are gone.”
“I don’t see nothin’ to hinder. It’s all right, as fur as I kin calkilate; but I wish ye’d let the Injuns take keer of that trader. I don’t like his looks, and he reminds me, somehow, of a chap I once met, many year ago, who did me a heap of harm.”