"No—at least—no—"
"Well, I do; that's what it's like. That's something I do know, fur I seen old Caleb use wan."
"Oh, I remember reading about it now, and they are like that, and it's on them that the Indians paint their records. Isn't that bully," as he saw Raften add two long inner stakes which held the dew-cloth like a canopy.
"Say, Da, I never knew you and Caleb were hunting together. Thought ye were jest natural born enemies."
"Humph!" grunted Raften. "We wuz chums oncet. Never had no fault to find till we swapped horses."
"Sorry you ain't now, 'cause he's sure sharp in the woods."
"He shouldn't a-tried to make an orphan out o' you."
"Are you sure he done it?"
"If 'twasn't him I dunno who 'twas. Yan, fetch some of them pine knots thayer."
Yan went after the knots; it was some yards into the woods, and out there he was surprised to see a tall man behind a tree. A second's glance showed it to be Caleb. The Trapper laid one finger on his [258] lips and shook his head. Yan nodded assent, gathered the knots, and went back to the camp, where Sam continued: