“White Injuns,” said Nick, with a grin followed by a yawn.
“That’s what,” observed Victor, curling himself up in his blankets. “I’ve frequent heard tell of the White Squaw, but White Injuns sounds like as it wa’n’t jest possible. Howsum, they call you real white buck neches, an’ I ’lows ther’ ain’t no redskin in the world to stan’ beside you on the trail o’ a fur.”
The two men laughed at their friend’s rough tribute to their attainments. Ralph was the quieter of the two, but his appreciation was none the less. He was simple-hearted, but he knew his own worth when dealing with furs. Nick laughed loudly. It tickled him to be considered a White Indian at the calling which was his, for his whole pride was in his work.
Nick was not without a romantic side to his nature. The life of the mountains had imbued him with a half-savage superstition which revelled in the uncanny lore of such places. This was not the first time he had heard of a White Squaw, and, although he did not believe such a phenomenon possible, it appealed seductively to his love of the marvellous. Victor had turned over to sleep, but Nick was very wide awake and interested. He could not let such an opportunity slip. Victor was good at a yarn. And, besides, Victor knew more of the mountain-lore than any one else. So he roused the Breed again.
“You was sayin’ about a White Squaw, Victor,” he said, in a shamefaced manner. His bronzed cheeks were deeply flushed and he glanced over at his brother to see if he were laughing at him. Ralph was lying full length upon his blankets and his eyes were closed, so he went on. “Guess I’ve heerd tell of a White Squaw. Say, ain’t it that they reckon as she ain’t jest a human crittur?”
Victor opened his eyes and rolled over on his back. If there was one weakness he had it was the native half-breed love of romancing. He was ever ready to yarn. He revelled in it when he had a good audience. Nick was the very man for him, simple, honest, superstitious. So he sat up and answered readily enough.
“That’s jest how, pard. An’ it ain’t a yarn neither. It’s gospel truth. I know.”
“Hah!” ejaculated Nick, while a strange feeling passed down his spine. Ralph’s eyes had slowly opened, but the others did not notice him.
“I’ve seen her!” went on the trader emphatically.
“You’ve seen her!” said Nick, in an awed whisper.