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Updated: May 28, 2025
"Oh, you're too slow!" objected Dick. "What the hell do we care for a lot of copper-skins from Rupert's House! We ain't got anything to ask from them but a few pairs of moccasins, and if they don't want to make them for us, they can use their buckskin to tie up their sore heads!" He thrust his paddle in close to the bow and twisted the canoe towards shore.
"Luck, does ye call it, to have your head cracked and your shins smashed by the copper-skins, chawed up by the b'ars, froze to death in the mountains, drowned in the rivers that run into the top of yer shanty when yer sound asleep your feet gnawed off by wolverines, as they call and but whisht! don't talk to me of luck, and all the time ye never gets a sight of a particle of gowld."
I exclaimed anxiously. "Give me your arm, lad, and let's make haste back to the hacienda. You, Tom, keep that pistol in your hand cocked, and walk close behind; and if you see one of those lurking copper-skins jump up, shoot him down without mercy. You know how you both left me to go into the house, where I meant to put the gold into a chest in my little office?
Preceded by the Red Bone spokesman, the line advanced between the two bodies of copper-skins and swung along the evil-smelling avenue to its upper end. There, in the very center of the loop joining the two rows of huts, was a house twice as big as any other. From its doorway the inhabitant of that house could watch the whole life of the Red Bone town. Obviously it was the home of the chief.
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