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Updated: June 9, 2025
His throat was very red and very hollow, and seemed ready to swallow no end of fresh raw egg and bits of raw beef and earthworms and bread soaked in milk. Not that he had to have much at a time, but he needed so very many meals a day. It was fun to feed the little fellow, because he grew so fast and because he was so comical when he called, "Kah."
An Indian is a poor mean thing at the bist, an' their squaws kah! they are the dirtiest beasts that iver jabbered human lingo; an' their babies, I raaly belaves, is caught with a hook an' line in the muddy creeks where the catfish breed; but, fur all that, I don't think they could have been equal to this piece of wickedness. May the divil git howld of his soul.
There he stood on the ridge-pole, the little tike, and yelled, "Caw," in almost a grown-up way, as if he felt proud and happy. Perhaps he did for a while. It really was a trip to be proud of for one's very first walk in the world. But the exercise made him hungry, and he soon yelled, "Kah!" in a tone that meant, "Bring me my luncheon this minute or I'll beg till you do."
No one would think, to see him with beak up and open, and with fluttering wings held out from his sides, that the little chap begging "Kah! kah! kah!" was old enough to do more than "gubble" the food that was poked into his big throat.
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