"I send a message that we are coming," he explained to Ambrose. "He lak to be treated lak big man. It is no harm when you are trading with them."
Ambrose agreed. "So this what's-his-name fancies himself," he remarked while they waited.
"It is so," said Simon, grimly. "Thinks he is a king! All puff up with wind lak a bull frog. He mak' me mad with his foolishness. What would you? You cannot deal with the Kakisas only what he say. Because only Watusk speaks English. He does what he wants."
"And can nobody here speak Kakisa?" Ambrose asked.
"Nobody but Gordon Strange. It is hard talk on the tongue."
"What else about him?"
"Wa! I have told you," said Simon. "You will know him when you see!
All tam show off lak a cock-grouse in mating-time. He is not Kakisa.
He is a Cree who went with them long tam ago. Some say his father was
a black man."
"So!" said Ambrose. "And they stand for that?"
Simon shrugged. "The Kakisas a funny people. Not mix with the whites, not mix with other Indians lak Crees. They keep old ways. They not talk about their ways to other men. So nobody knows what they do at home." Simon lowered his voice. "Some say cannibals."
"Pooh!" said Ambrose, "that yarn is told about every strange tribe!"