"No mak' fast time in deep snow."
"Well, we've been going fast enough to suit me," Bob laughed.
"Same here," Jack added.
The Indian, before eating, had fed the dogs, giving each a frozen fish, and they were now lying in the snow. Jack, as soon as he had finished, went toward them thinking that it would be a good time to get acquainted. But an ominous growl caused him to stop and look back inquiringly.
"Better wait," the Indian cautioned him and he came back. "Them dog heap bad when them no know you. Them know you ver' soon then you touch um," he explained.
"Would they bite me now?"
"Plenty apt bite now, not after while."
"Then I reckon I'll wait," Jack grinned as he sat down on the snow beside the trail. "But, I say, Lucky, they look like fine dogs."
"Them heap best dogs ever was," the Indian replied proudly. "They all one litter, oui. Injun had der father an' mother, raise um."
"How old are they?" Bob asked.