Instantly a dark young face appeared, and dark young eyes were looking into his. They gazed for a moment, almost with reverence. Then, since Marvin said nothing but only smiled, the boy smiled too, and spoke.
“Bo-jou, Mugwuh!”
“Bo-jou, Little Pine.”
It was the merest guess on Marvin’s part, but it happened to be right.
“Why did you call me Mugwuh?”
A look of anxiety came over the dark young face.
“You not the Bear?”
“Yes,” smiled Marvin, “I’m Mahan, the Bear.”
The lad seemed relieved. “My father Ojeeg is down in the boat. What you want me to do?”
The question was so humble, so much like the one which Marvin himself had asked a few hours earlier, that he did not inquire into the mystery of it.