Nicholas agreed. "And berries and flour. When snow begin get soft, Pymeuts all go off—" He motioned with his big head towards the hills.
"What do you get there?" Mac was becoming interested.
"Caribou, moose—"
"Any furs?"
"Yes; trap ermun, marten—"
"Lynx, too, I suppose, and fox?"
Nicholas nodded. "All kinds. Wolf—muskrat, otter—wolverine—all kinds."
"You got some skins now?" asked the Nova Scotian.
"Y—yes. More when snow get soft. You come Pymeut—me show."
"Where have ye been just now?" asked O'Flynn.