“You said it,” Bob agreed as they pushed off in the canoe and started around the point.
Helen was on the wharf and gave the old Indian a warm greeting which plainly pleased him, but she shrank from Sicum as he gave vent to a low rumble when she reached out her hand to his master.
“You, Sicum!” Kernertok said in a low tone, but one which the dog plainly understood for he dropped his head and turned away.
“Him good dog but no mak’ friend quick,” Kernertok explained as he grabbed him by the collar and drew him close to the girl. “You no like um squaw? You heap no good dog: she good squaw: friend of Kernertok: you like um, eh?”
While his master was speaking the dog was looking first at him and then at the girl. Slowly his tail began to wag and, as Kernertok finished, he took a step forward and held out one paw with a peculiar questioning whine.
“Take it, and you’ve made a friend for life,” Jack whispered.
A bit reluctantly the girl took the paw in one hand while with the other she softly patted the brown head while Sicum made manifest his delight by a vigorous wagging of his bushy tail.
“Now he’ll protect you with his life,” Jack told her.
“And you can do anything with him and he’ll never so much as growl at you,” Bob added.
“He must be wonderful,” she said her hand still caressing the dog’s head.