An extra loud burst of the storming wind held the men silent a moment, then, as it died away, Victor went on.
“Yes, I see her with my own two eyes, an’ I ain’t like to ferget it neither. Say, ye’ve seen them Bible ’lustrations in my shanty? Them pictur’s o’ lovesome critturs wi’ feathery wings an’ sech?”
“I guess.”
“Wal, clip them wings sheer off, an’ you’ve got her dead right.”
“Mush! But she must be a dandy sight,” exclaimed Nick, with conviction. “How come ye to–”
“Guess it’s a long yarn, an’ maybe ye’re wantin’ to sleep.”
“Say, I ’lows I’d like that yarn, Victor. I ain’t worried for sleep, any.”
Nick deliberately refilled his pipe and lit it, and passed his tobacco to the trader. Victor took the pouch. Ralph’s eyes had closed again.
“You allus was a great one fer a yarn, Nick,” began the half-breed, with a laugh. “Guess you most allus gets me gassin’; but say, this ain’t no yarn, in a way. It’s the most cur’us bit o’ truth, as maybe you’ll presently allow. But I ain’t goin’ to tell it you if ye ain’t believin’, ’cause it’s the truth.” The trader’s face had become quite serious and he spoke with unusual earnestness. Nick was impressed, and Ralph’s eyes had opened again.
“Git goin’, pard; guess your word’s good fer me,” Nick said eagerly. “You was sayin’–”