Lieutenant: Stand still, there, and tell us where the rest of your people are; we'd like pretty well to kill a few hundred.
Indian (stands): Big paleface tell Gerolomo go bring venison, go bring duck.
Lieutenant: Well, why don't you do it, then? Better mind him, I tell you, or he'll have you shot.
Indian (shaking head decidedly): No, no, big paleface heap good, heap brave; no harm poor Injun.
Sergeant (going to Indian): You're off now, I'll bet, to tell your people just where to find us and just how many palefaces there are here.
Indian (repeats former business): No, no, Gerolomo go tell big paleface got venison, got duck, got squirrel.
Private (going to him and shaking his fist at him): None o' your lying now. If you go to the Captain with that yarn he'll make short work o' you. The Captain hates a liar, he does.
Indian (whining): Me no lie, me good Injun. Me go tell big paleface me bring venison, me bring duck, me bring squirrel.
Lieutenant (to the others): Listen to that, will you? He'll bring venison, he'll bring duck, he'll bring squirrel. My! but we'll be living high. (All laugh.)
Sergeant: We'd like to see your venison, your duck, and your squirrel.