"Fish, Fish, Fish! always about Fish, or something to eat, with you Water-Rats," interrupted Carcajou, disgustedly. "Do let us get back to the subject. Do you know what the Men say of our Black King, Comrades?"
"They call him The Devil!" declared Jay.
"No they don't," objected Carcajou; "they aver he's Wiesahkechack, the great Indian God, who could change himself into Animals--that's what they think. You all know François, the French Half-breed, who trapped at Hay River last Winter."
"He killed my First Cousin," sighed Marten.
"I lost a Son by him--poisoned," moaned Black King's Mother, the Red Widow, who had been sitting quietly during the meeting watching with maternal pride the form of her son.
"Yes, he tried to catch me," boasted Carcajou, "but I outwitted him, and threw a Number Four Steel Trap in the river. He had a fight with a Chippewa Indian over it--blamed him for the theft. Oh, I enjoyed that. I was hidden under a Spruce log, and watched François pummel the Indian until he ran away. I don't understand much French, but the Half-breed used awful language. I wish they'd always fight amongst themselves."
"Why didn't the Chippewa squeeze François till he was dead?--that's what I should have done," growled Muskwa. "Do you remember Nichemous, the Cree Half-breed, who always keeps his hat tied on with a handkerchief?"
"I saw him once," declared Black Fox.
"Well, he tried to shoot me--crept up close to a log I was lying behind, and poked his Ironstick over it, thinking I was asleep. That was in the Winter--I think it was the Second of February: but do you know, sometimes I get my dates mixed. One year I forgot in my sleep, and came out on the First to see what the weather was like. Ha, ha! fancy that; coming out on the First and thought it was the Second."
"What has that got to do with Nichemous, old Garrulity?" squeaked Whisky-Jack.