"His Majesty flatters you, Carcajou," sneered Whisky-Jack.
François came out, took his axe, and made some shavings from a Jack-pine stick.
"Will they eat that?" asked Beaver.
The Breed stepped over to a Birch tree, peeled from its side a handful of silver, ribbon-like bark, and lighted it with a match; it blazed and crackled like oil-soaked shavings. Then he shoved it into the stove, put chips and three sticks of wood in, shut the door, and thick black smoke curled up from the stove pipe. The animals stared with extraordinary interest.
Whisky-Jack craned his head, and watched the effect of this magic on his Comrades.
"That's the Devil-thing that destroyed all the Birds and their Eggs," said the Red Widow. "It's the Man-fire."
Blue Wolf was trembling. "E-u-h! E-u-h!" he whined; "Man's Fire-medicine. It grows like the wind, and destroys like the Rabbit plague. Once seven Brothers of mine stalked a Man and he started this Fire-medicine."
"What happened, Rof?" asked Carcajou.
"The Man escaped."
"And your Seven Brothers?"