“But,” he added, “if we had some giant powder, that would be a different thing.”
“You mean blasting powder?”
“Yep, ‘giant powder’ is what we call it up here.”
“If we can’t do anything else, I’d better ride to some settlement and try to get some.”
“Yes, unless any miner or prospector happens along and that’s not likely.”
“Why not?”
“‘Cause this is in the Blood Indians’ reservation and the Bloods don’t take kindly to strangers roaming around on their property and hunting and prospectin’.”
“Are they bad Indians?”
“Well, not exactly. Just ugly, I reckon ’ud be about the name fer it. The guv’ment keeps fire water away from ’em all it can, but they sneak it in somehow and a Blood with whisky in him is a bad proposition. They’ll steal ponies, rob houses, do most anything.”