"What? A Humming-bird?"
"Na-aw-w-w. They ain't purty, only small."
"Well, that shows what you know," retorted Yan, "'for these exquisite winged gems are at once the most diminutive and brilliantly coloured of the whole feathered race.'" This phrase Yan had read some where and his overapt memory had seized on it.
"Pshaw!" said Sam. "Sounds like a book, but I'll bet I seen hundreds of Hummin'-birds round the Trumpet-vine and Bee-balm in the garden, an' they weren't a millionth part as purty as this. Why, it's just as red as blood, shines like fire and has black wings. The old Witch says the Indians call it a War-bird 'cause when it flew along the trail there was sure going to be war, which is like enough, fur they wuz at it all the hull time."
"Oh, I know," said Yan. "A Scarlet Tanager. Where did you see it?"
"Why, it came from the trees, then alighted on the highest pole of the teepee."
[233] "Hope there isn't going to be any war there, Sam. I wish I had one to stuff."
"Tried to get him for you, sonny, spite of the Rules. Could 'a' done it, too, with a gun. Had a shy at him with an arrow an' I hain't been bird or arrow since. 'Twas my best arrow, too—old Sure-Death."
"Will ye give me the arrow if I kin find it?" said Guy.
"Now you bet I won't. What good'd that be to me?"