“Grizzly.”
“Well, I don’t know about that,” demurred Alex. “Of course I don’t deny you may have killed a bear or so up in Alaska, but down here most of us are willing to let grizzlies alone when we see them.”
“This white-face bear, he’ll be bad,” Moise nodded vigorously.
“Are there many in here?” asked John, curiously, looking at the dense woods.
“I don’t know,” Alex replied. “I’ve seen a few tracks along the bars, but most of those are made by black bear. Injuns don’t look for grizzlies very much. I don’t suppose there’s over six or eight grizzly skins traded out of Fort St. John in a whole year.”
“Injuns no like for keel grizzly,” said Moise. “This grizzly, he’ll be chief. He’ll be dead man, too, maybe. Those grizzly he’ll be onkle of mine, maybe so. All Injun he’ll not want for keel grizzly. Some Injun can talk to grizzly, an’ some time grizzly he’ll talk to Injun, too, heem.”
“Now, Moise,” said Rob, “do you really think an animal can talk?”
“Of course he’ll talk. More beside, all animal he’ll talk with spirits, an’ man, not often he can talk with spirits himself. Yes, animal he’ll talk with spirit right along, heem.”
“What does he mean, Alex?” asked Rob.
“Well,” said Alex, gravely, “I’m half Injun too, and you know, Injuns don’t think just the way white people do. Among our people it was always thought that animals were wiser than white men think them. Some have said that they get wisdom from the spirits—I don’t know about that.”