“What’s an Irishman without a scrape?” laughed Pat “Listen, now,” he bade, to Little White Osage, who had been attending very keenly. “After dusk ye slip aboard the big boat. Understand?”
Little White Osage nodded. They had planned something good for him, and he was willing to agree to whatever it was.
“Slip aboard the big boat,” and Pat pointed and signed, to make plain, “an’ hide yourself away for’d down among the supplies. Kape quiet till after the council, or the Otoes’ll get ye. I’ll be findin’ ye an’ passin’ ye a bit to ate. An’ when we’re a-sailin’ up the big river wance more, then ye’ll have to face the captains, an’ what they’ll say I dunno, but I’ll bet my hat that Cap’n Clark’ll talk the heart o’ Cap’n Lewis, who’s an officer an’ a gintleman, into lettin’ ye stay if there’s proof ye have no-wheres else to go.” And Patrick Gass chuckled. “Sure, they can’t set ye afoot on the prairie.”
There were too many strange words in this speech, but Little White Osage caught the import.
“I hide,” he said, obediently. “In big boat.”
“Right-o!” encouraged George. “And if you’re found, stand up for yourself.”
“No tell,” blurted Little White Osage. “Talk to ’Nited States chiefs. No tell.”
“B’jabbers, there’s pluck!” approved Patrick Gass. “Now, we be goin’ to take some o’ this meat back wid us, but we’ll lave you enough to chew on. You have plenty fire. ’Twas only for signal to the Injuns to come in to council. We had no thought o’ burnin’ annywan, ’specially a boy. No, or of burnin’ me own coat, nayther, till I see the wind changin’.” He and George rapidly made up a parcel of the meat, blackened and charred though the hunks were. “But we cooked our supper by it. Goodbye to ye. Chance be we’ll see ye later.” With airy wave of hand he trudged away.
“His name is Patrick Gass. My name is George Shannon,” emphasized George, lingering a moment. “Yours is Peter Kerr. All right, Peter. Watch out for the Otoes, that they don’t spy you when you come in after dark.”
“I come,” answered Peter, carefully. “Oto no catch.”