“I should say I did,” laughed the man, a big, burly trapper. “I never saw any hair redder’n yours in my life.”
Everyone present laughed at this remark, much to Robert’s displeasure. What irritated him most of all, however, was the fact that his brother laughed much louder than anyone else.
“Look here!” said Robert angrily. “You’d better not laugh at me. If I had hair the color of yours I think I’d keep pretty quiet. I’d rather have red hair than tow-colored.”
“Oh, I don’t know about that,” said Joseph, still laughing at the allusion to his brother’s hair. “Mine suits me first rate.”
“You’re easily pleased,” muttered Robert, but no one heard him.
“It’s too bad Deerfoot hasn’t blue hair,” said the man who had begun the conversation. “Then we’d have the American colors, red, white and blue. We could put these three up in front for a flag.”
Fresh laughter broke out at this remark and both boys joined in it now. Everything was said in a spirit of fun, and Robert was quick to realize how silly it was to lose his temper. It is no fun to tease a man who laughs at your teasing.
“Let’s stop talking about hair and hear something about pelts,” said Walt. “Tell us how you got those three panther skins I saw down at your cabin last month.”
He addressed his remarks to the man who had called Robert “Red.” This trapper was evidently a great favorite with the men and one whom they looked up to and respected. His name was John Mason and he had originally come from Massachusetts. That is, he had left that part of the country when he was only five years old, and had migrated west with his parents. They had settled in Wisconsin and there he had learned the business of trapping and had followed it ever since he had been old enough to engage in it.
“Did I tell you the experience my father had?” inquired Mason. “How he was lost in the woods soon after we came west?”