Well," continued le Bourdon,
laughing, "if they wish another whiskey-spring, I have a small jug
left, safely hid against a wet day; a very few drops will answer to
make a tolerable spring. You redskins don't know everything,
Pigeonswing, though you are so keen and quick-witted on a trail."
"Bess not tell Pottawattamie any more 'bout springs," answered the
Chippewa, gravely; for by this time he regarded the state of things
in the openings to be so serious as to feel little disposition to
mirth. "Why you don't go home, eh? Why don't med'cine-man go home,
too? Bess for pale-face to be wid pale-face when red man go on war-
path. Color bess keep wid color."
"I see you want to be rid of us, Pigeonswing; but the parson has no
thought of quitting this part of the world until he has convinced
all the red-skins that they are Jews."
"What he mean, eh?" demanded the Chippewa, with more curiosity than
it was usual for an Indian warrior to betray. "What sort of a man
Jew, eh? Why call red man Jew?"
"I know very little more about it than you do yourself, Pigeonswing;
but such as my poor knowledge is, you're welcome to it. You've heard
of the Bible, I dare say?"
"Sartain--med'cine-man read him Sunday.
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