"More—more shuhg. Hey? Oh yes, me give heap fish. No nuff shuhg."
If it hadn't been for Mac (his own clear-headed self again, and by no means to be humbugged by any Prince alive) the purchase of a portion of that load of frozen fish, corded up like so much wood, would have laid waste the commissariat.
But if the white men after this passage did not feel an absolute confidence in Nicholas's fairness of mind, no such unworthy suspicion of them found lodgment in the bosom of the Prince. With the exception of some tobacco, he left all his ill-gotten store to be kept for him by his new friends till he should return. When was that to be? In five sleeps he would be back.
"Good! We'll have the stockade done by then. What do you say to our big chimney, Nicholas?"
He emitted a scornful "Peeluck!"
"What! Our chimney no good?"
He shrugged: "Why you have so tall hole your house? How you cover him up?"
"We don't want to cover him up."
"Humph! winter fin' you tall hole. Winter come down—bring in snow—drive fire out." He shivered in anticipation of what was to happen. "Peeluck!"
The white men laughed.