“No, but if you don’t chase that buck over yonder behind the Professor’s tent, I reckon you’ll lose your rope,” reminded the fat boy.
Tad sprang to his feet, leaping over the tent ropes to the rear. A native had reached under and was hauling out Butler’s lasso. Tad grabbed the fellow by an arm and sent him spinning.
“You get out of here or I’ll wallop you!” threatened the freckle-faced boy. “Don’t you try that! It doesn’t go in this outfit. Anvik, tell your friend that someone will get knocked in the head if he steals anything in this camp.”
The guide uttered a volley of protest in 135Innuit, which the assembled squaws, papooses and bucks received in stoical silence, and with impassive faces.
“They don’t seem to be particularly impressed by your lecture,” said Ned.
“Him no take. Anvik tell um stick um with knife if take.”
“You will do nothing of the sort. We will do all the punishing. Don’t let me see you using your knife to stick anyone. Now, I guess you had better show us around. Take your pony and come along,” rebuked Rector.
“Where you want go?”
“Oh, anywhere. You lead the way. Will anything here be taken while we are away?” questioned Ned.
“No take. Anvik stick um if take.”