he was so deeply indebted.
Henri groaned. "Oh! mes boy, I am speechless! I
am ready for bust! Oui--hah! I veesh it vas to-morrow."
Many a time that night did Henri "veesh it vas to-morrow,"
as he lay helpless on his back, looking up
through the roof of the chief's tent at the stars, and
listening enviously to the plethoric snoring of Joe Blunt.
He was entertained, however, during those waking
hours with a serenade such as few civilized ears ever
listen to. This was nothing else than a vocal concert