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But the back-fat, the kidneys, and the tongues these shall go into other mouths than thine and mine, old man." Ebbits nodded his head and wept silently. "There be no one to hunt meat for us," she cried, turning fiercely upon me. There was accusation in her manner, and I shrugged my shoulders in token that I was not guilty of the unknown crime imputed to me.
Your stomach is full with emptiness through the days, and it is for a man of a very miserable and lying people to give you to eat." "Nay," old Ebbits interposed in kindliness, "the white man's is not a lying people. The white man speaks true. Always does the white man speak true." He paused, casting about him for words wherewith to temper the severity of what he was about to say.
"So I, Ebbits, journeyed down to Cambell Fort to collect the debt. Jones, who is chief trader, looked at me, and he laughed. He made great laughter, and would not give payment. I went to the medicine-man, what you call missionary, and had large talk about the bad water and the payment that should be mine. And the missionary made talk about other things.
"But there was no way to go to the white man's country," said Zilla. "Did he not go down to the salt lake that is big as the sky?" Ebbits demanded. "And there was no way for him across the salt lake," said Zilla. "Save in the white man's fire-boat which is of iron and is bigger than twenty steamboats on the Yukon," said Ebbits.
"It is the way of the white man," Ebbits mumbled with an air of resignation. "It is the foolishness of the white man," snapped Zilla. "Then let old Ebbits teach the white man wisdom," I said softly. "The dog is not killed, because it must pull the sled of the man. No man pulls another man's sled, wherefore the man is killed." "Oh," I murmured. "That is the law," old Ebbits went on.
It came to me that their behavior was like that of hungry dogs, and in the fitness of things I should not have been astonished had Zilla suddenly developed a tail and thumped it on the floor in right doggish fashion. Ebbits drooled a little and stopped his rocking very frequently to lean forward and thrust his tremulous nose nearer to the source of gustatory excitement.
"I am the father of Moklan," Ebbits said, having patiently given the woman space for her noise. "I get into canoe and journey down to Cambell Fort to collect the debt!" "Debt!" interrupted. "What debt?" "The debt of Jones, who is chief trader," came the answer. "Such is the law of travel in a strange country."
"Wherefore," old Ebbits said with grave dignity, "there be no one to hunt meat for me in my old age, and I sit hungry by my fire and tell my story to the White Man who has given me grub, and strong tea, and tobacco for my pipe." "Because of the lying and very miserable white people," Zilla proclaimed shrilly. "Nay," answered the old man with gentle positiveness.
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