“Plague take it all, I believe you’re just trying to spoil my nap!” said Joe, much vexed.
“No I ain’t, Joe; I’m in earnest, indeed I am,” continued Sneak; “bekaise I hain’t been inside of my house, now, for three or four days, and who knows but the dod—mean the—Indians have been there and stole all my muskrat skins?”
“If they have, then there’s no use in looking for them now.”
“If they have, dod—I mean, burn me if I don’t foller em to the other end of creation but I’ll have ’em back agin. But I ain’t much afeard that they saw my house—they might rub agin it without knowing it was a house.”
“That’s a pretty tale,” said Joe, now thoroughly awakened, and staring incredulously in his companion’s face.
“It’s a fact.”
“Whereabouts is your house?”
“Why, it’s in the second valley we crossed when we went after the wolves on the island.”
“Then your skins are gone,” said Joe, “for the Indians have been in that valley.”
“I know they was there well enough,” said Sneak; “but didn’t I say they couldn’t find the house, even if they was to scratch their backs agin it?”