"This Ahmek, Marya's son, the brother of Nahnya," said St. Jean Bateese.
The other boy, while an inch or two shorter, was broader in the shoulders. His face was flat with high cheekbones and narrow eyes.
"This Myengeen, my son." The old man spoke a word in Cree, and each boy put forth a bashful hand to Ralph.
Ralph could not remember their uncouth names. The taller boy he thought of afterward as Cæsar; the other as Ching.
St. Jean transmitted Nahnya's order to them, and the two departed in the direction of the cave.
Ralph, notwithstanding his distress on Nahnya's account, could not but be keenly interested in the life of the strange little community that she ruled. Since she withheld the explanation of her unhappiness, he listened eagerly to St. Jean's gossip, and questioned him, hoping to discover a clue there. Though St. Jean had shared in Nahnya's dismay at the white man's coming, he had pride and pleasure in exhibiting their work. Moreover, Nahnya had commanded him to do the honours. Courtesy was this old savage gentleman's ruling force.
"Him good boys," St. Jean said, looking after them proudly. The old man's English gradually came back to him at his need. "I teach him all my fat'er teach me, long tam ago. I teach him to be pain and 'onger and cold, and say not'ing. I teach him mak' canoe. I teach him shoot with the bow."
"Have you no guns?" asked Ralph.
"Our fat'ers got no guns long ago," answered the old man. "Nahnya say bang-bang drive every beast out of our valley. Him not any scare of arrows. We kill sheep and goat on the mountains with arrows. We kill caribou with arrows. My boys good hunters."
"Are there caribou in this little valley?" Ralph asked with surprise.