Muskwa dug Mooswa in the ribs with his big paw. "We'll see fun yet if we wait," he chuckled thickly.
"Don't bodder 'bout dat fell'," remonstrated François; "dat's only Whisky-Jack."
"Only what?" asked the lad.
"What dey call Canadienne Jay--Whisky-Jack."
"Shall I shoot him?"
"No; dat fell' no good, but he's not wort' de powder an' s'ot."
Jack heard a faint giggle come up from the gray willows, for Wolverine had his big-clawed fist half-way down his throat to choke the sound of laughter.
"Our Clerk's Men Friends are complimentary," remarked Black King.
The Boy cut a small piece of fat pork, stuck it on a sharp stick, and busied himself somewhat at the stove front; but the watchers could not quite see what he was doing.
"I think I'll give Jay some breakfast," he said suddenly; "the bird seems hungry:" and straightening his back, threw towards him the lump of pork.