Leading him inside, she had him shift some bags of flour from one place to another. This done, she presented him with a plug of tobacco, and let him know that he had done all she required. They returned outside, and Loseis bade Mary-Lou go on with the reading.
Etzooah, as Loseis expected, did not leave them, but, making his face perfectly vacant, squatted down in the grass at the other side of the door, and proceeded to shave a pipeful of tobacco from the plug, careful not to spill a crumb. Loseis allowed Mary-Lou to read for awhile, then she started slightly as if a thought had just occurred to her, and motioned to the girl to stop.
“Etzooah,” she said (speaking in the Slavi tongue of course) “it comes to me that I have not thanked you for fetching Gault from Fort Good Hope. That was well done.”
Etzooah grinned. “Gault is a good man,” he said.
“You speak truth,” said Loseis gravely. “How did it come that you set off without telling me?”
“Wah!” said Etzooah, “you were attending upon the body of Blackburn. It was not right for me to go to you at such a time. I just caught some horses and went.”
“It was well thought of,” said Loseis. “How did you make yourself understood to the white men?”
“I speak the Cree,” said Etzooah.
“Wah!” said Loseis politely. “That was not known to me.”
“My father was a Cree,” said Etzooah. “It is well known.”