“Oughter tarred an’ feathered the ol’ cuss,” said Angus.
“That’s jes’ what Bill thought, but they didn’t have no tar, let alone feathers. But Fin Anderson’s a curis feller, an’ Bill remembered that when he went out inter that country he toted along a feather bed; ’lowed he wanted somethin’ different to sleep on ter home than he had in ther woods. When Bill thought o’ that feather bed he jes’ sithed fer tar, when he’d make a turkey gobbler outer Bowlegs. Well, while they’s rummagin’ roun’ ther cabin they found some wild honey Fin had brought in, so they took that an’ daubed ther ol’ feller from head ter heel and then rolled him in the feathers.”
“Kinder rough on Fin’s feather bed.”
“Oh, he’d sure enough lay it to the Injun. After they got back home an’ told the story some o’ the fellers ’lowed as how they’d go over an’ give Bowlegs a lickin’ ter boot. Well, when they got in sight o’ the ol’ rascal, he was jes’ soberin’ up, sittin’ thar rubbin’ his eyes. ’Bout that time he seen ther feathers stickin’ out all over him an’ he let out a whoop an’ went tearin’ off through the brush, sheddin’ feathers at every jump like an ol’ settin’ hen scared off’n her nest.”
“They oughter licked the ol’ redskin; they’re all thieves,” said Angus with an important air.
“He stole the liquor but it looks like some one else stole the honey and feathers.”
All eyes turned toward the speaker who had joined the group unobserved. He was Rodney Allison.
The face of Angus turned red as a beet. Here was this upstart new boy with an air of questioning his authority. By means of Angus’ ability to give any boy in the neighbourhood a sound drubbing if necessary he had become the recognized leader. Evidently this new boy needed to be shown his proper place.
“Huh! Bill an’ his friends ain’t thieves, I can tell. An Injun is a born thief, so are most niggers, an’ I’ve been told that, when England used to send her thieves to Virginny, some of ’em turned schoolmasters after they landed.”