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The gift of tongues had come to him. "I heard a noise down thar in the holler!" he shouted. "Wuz it made by warriors, men? No! it wuz dogs barkin' an' crows cawin' an' wolves whinin' an' rabbits squeakin'. Sech ez them would never come up ag'in a white man's rifle.
If any one among them is restless, and dreams for two or three nights successively, he concludes that Satan has taken that method of laying his commands upon him, which if he neglects to fulfil, he will certainly suffer sickness or death, though they are not revealed with sufficient perspicuity to ascertain their meaning: To interpret his dream, therefore, he taxes his wits to the uttermost, and if, by taking it literally or figuratively, directly or by contraries, he can put no explanation upon it that perfectly satisfies him, he has recourse to the cawin, or priest, who assists him with a comment and illustrations, and perfectly reveals the mysterious suggestions of the night.
"Some folks gits dere eye-tooths en doan git nuthin' wid 'em," Zany remarked nonchalantly. "I'se 'mit dough dat you comin' on, Chunk. W'en you gits growed up you'se be right smart." "I doan min' de foolishness ob yo' talk, Zany," Chunk replied coolly, between his huge mouthfuls. "Dat's in you, en you kyant he'p hit any mo'n a crow cawin'. I'se allus mek 'lowance fer dat.
"There! there!" she said, sharply, "this is supposed to be a meal, not a parrot shop, and we're humans, not a passel of birds on a telegraph wire all hollerin' at once. Drink your tea and stop your cawin', Lute Rogers. Ros'll tell us when he gets ready. What DID Mr. Colton want of you, Roscoe?" I told them as much of the interview at the Coltons' as I thought necessary they should know.
D'ye see them crows flyin' round thet big oak with the bleached top? Hear them cawin'? You might think they was chasin' a hawk, or king-birds were arter 'em, but thet fuss they're makin' is because they see Injuns." "Well?" asked Joe, impatiently. "It'll be moonlight a while arter midnight. We'll lay low an' wait, an' then "
'They're some black, I doobt, mem, he remarked, rubbing them hard upon his trowsers before he showed them; 'for I was amaist cawin' oot the brains o' Dooble Sanny wi' his ain lapstane. He's an ill-tongued chield. But eh! mem, ye suld hear him play upo' the fiddle! He's greitin' his een oot e'en noo for the bonnie leddy.
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