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Before reaching the Kachime, they were joined by the women and children, Muckluck much concerned at the sight of her friend glazed in ice from head to heel. Nicholas and Yagorsha half dragged, half pulled him into the Kachime.
Not till he had been gone some time did Nicholas venture to return to the parental roof. They found Muckluck subdued but smiling, and the old man astonishingly better. It looked almost as if he had turned the corner, and was getting well.
The half-shut eye of the camp fire gleamed cheerfully, as he ran back, and crouched down where poor little Muckluck had knelt, so sure of a welcome. Muckluck, cogitated the Boy, will believe more firmly than ever that, if a man doesn't beat a girl, he doesn't mean business. What was it he had wound round one hand? What was it dangling in the acrid smoke?
There apparently were more little Foxes together on the tundra that afternoon than there ever had been before. Little White Fox had just come around a bunch of muckluck grass and spied them, all very much interested in something they had found. "Ha! Ha!" chuckled Little White Fox to himself. "They'll get their heads pecked good and hard pretty soon!"
The owner stood there smoking while the night gang knocked off work under his nose and helped the Boy to get the Colonel on his feet. It was no use. Either he had struck his head or he was dazed unable, at all events, to stand. They lifted him up and started for the big tent. Three Indians accosted the cripple leading the procession. He started, and raised his eyes. "Nicholas! Muckluck!"
So he puts a bullet into Austin." "Why didn't he own up, then, and get his reward?" "Muckluck knew better made him hold his tongue about it." "And then made him own up when she saw " The boy nodded. "What's goin' to happen?" "Oh, he'll swing to-morrow instead o' me. By the way, Colonel, a fella hunted me up this mornin' who'd been to Minóok. Looked good to him. I've sold out Idaho Bar."
It had rolled behind the flour-sack, and O'Flynn had seized on it with rapture. Where everybody was in such need of vegetable food, nobody under-estimated the magnificence of O'Flynn's offering, as he pushed the pitaty down into the toe of the muckluck.
Under the white quilt he made some undistinguishable sound, but he kept his eyes fastened on his pardner. "Everything that we Americans have done, everything that we are, is achieved by the grace of goin' bang the other way." The Boy pulled off a muckluck and threw it half across the room. "And yet, and yet " He sat with one stocking-foot in his hand and stared at the candle.
He might, in truth, look down upon the smug majority that smiles at unusual endeavour, unless success excuses, crowns it. No one there, after all, so poor but he had one possession treasured among kings. And he had risked it. What could a man do more? "Good-bye, Muckluck." "Goo'-bye? Boat Canada way no go till Thursday." "Thursday, yes," he said absently, eyes still on the American ship.
He clutched his head in despair. "When you first come. When Shamán make Ol' Chief all well." "I don't remember it." "Yes." "I think you misunderstood me, Muckluck." "Heh?" Her countenance fell, but more puzzled than wounded. "That is oh, yes of course you're a nice girl." "I think Anna, too you like me best." She helped out the white man's bashfulness.
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