At last a big, black-lookin' thief stepped forward, and said in the Cree language, `White men seldom travel through this country alone; where are your comrades? Now, thought I, here's a nice fix! Did you ever try to look pale and frightened, Mr Charles?" "I can't say that I ever did," said Charley, laughing.

Suppose I was out on the hill there some fine evenin', and I not thinkin' of anythin' in partic'lar, and all of a suddint I'd see a great, big, ugly, black-lookin' baste of a feller, the size of forty, skytin' away wid himself along the light of the sky over yonder, where the sun was about goin' down, and his shadder the len'th of an awful tall tree slippin' streelin' after him, till it was off over the edge of the world like, and that same 'ud be just the Divil, that they were after bundlin' out of it body and bones, the way he wouldn't get meddlin' and makin' and annoyin' people any more.

At last a big black-lookin' thief stepped forward, and said in the Cree language, 'White men seldom travel through this country alone; where are your comrades? Now, thought I, here's a nice fix! Did you ever try to look pale and frighttened, Mr. Charles?" "I can't say that I ever did," said Charley, laughing.

"Waal," he faltered, with an explanatory sob, which was at once ludicrous and pathetic, "I war too fur off ter make out fur sure what 'twar on the ledge. 'Twar black-lookin', an' I 'lowed 'twar a b'ar." All the men laughed at this. "I sot out ter run ter Aunt Mirandy's house ter borry Job's gun ter kem up hyar, an' mebbe git a crack at him," continued Nick.

"A Presbitree Meetin'!" read oot Sandy; an' you wudda thocht the Smith an' Bandy Wobster were genna ding doon the hoose wi' their noise an' roarin' an' lauchin'. "I thocht they were gey black-lookin' gentry for a meal mob," says the Smith; an' Bandy nodded his heid an' leuch, an' says, "Man, Sandy's a perfeck genius as fac's ocht, I hinna heard onything like him."