“And they attacked you right away?”
“Umph! Me shoot; then club gun. Hit tree first time; break gun; then run some more. Catch foot and fall; much hurt. That all.”
“Are you alone at your camp yonder?”
“Umph!” said the Indian, nodding affirmatively.
“You had better stay here till your foot’s well. I reckon that gun can be repaired, too. Only the stock is broken.”
The Indian’s eyes gleamed, showing that this statement pleased him vastly. Crow Wing’s “fire-tube” was his most precious possession. “Me thought no good,” he said.
“I know of a man in Bennington who can fix it,” declared Enoch. “Have you many pelts at your camp?”
On his fingers Crow Wing showed how many beaver skins, otter pelts, wolf hides, and other and less worthy furs, he had obtained. He also stated that he had three steel wolf traps and two beaver or otter traps which he had obtained from a farmer for whom he had worked.
“We can bring ’em all over here. Lot and I will go for them. You can’t get around on that foot much for several weeks. It’s bad. You ’tend camp and stretch pelts, while Lot and I look out for the traps. Then, when we go home, you take one third of the pelts.”
Crow Wing thought of this silently for a moment and then held out his hand with gravity. “Good! Crow Wing go to Bennington with Harding and Lot; sell pelts there and get gun fixed. Umph!”