"To be sure. How came to own him?--How a pale face come to own America? Discover him--ha!--Well, Nick discover land down yonder, up dere, over here."
"Nick, what the devil do you mean by all this?"
"No mean devil, at all--mean land--good land. Discover him--know where he is--catch beaver dere, three, two year. All Nick say, true as word of honour; much more too."
"Do you mean it is an old beaver-dam destroyed?" asked the captain, pricking up his ears; for he was too familiar with the woods, not to understand the value of such a thing.
"No destroy--stand up yet--good as ever.--Nick dere, last season."
"Why, then, do you tell of it? Are not the beaver of more value to you, than any price you may receive for the land?"
"Cotch him all, four, two year ago--rest run away. No find beaver to stay long, when Indian once know, two time, where to set he trap. Beaver cunninger 'an pale face--cunning as bear."
"I begin to comprehend you, Nick. How large do you suppose this pond to be?"
"He 'm not as big as Lake Ontario. S'pose him smaller, what den? Big enough for farm."
"Does it cover one or two hundred acres, think you?--Is it as large as the clearing around the fort?"