Vietnam or Thailand ? Vote for the TOP Country of the Week !
Updated: June 28, 2025
"Say, what's your name?" The answer sounded like "Muckluck." And just then Nicholas crawled out of the tunnel-like opening leading into the council-house. He jumped up, beaming at the sight of his friend. "Say, Nicholas, who's this fella that's always laughing, no matter what you say? Calls himself 'Muckluck."
The Boy began to feel that, if he did finally say something it would be as surprising as to hear an aged monkey break into articulate speech. Nicholas edged towards the Shamán, presenting something in a birch-bark dish. "What's that?" "A deer's tongue," whispered Muckluck. The Boy remembered the Koyukun song, "Thanks for a good meal to Kuskokala, the Shamán."
Not only Muckluck was up and doing, but the Ol' Chief seemed galvanised into unwonted activity. He was doddering about between his bed and the fire, laying out the most imposing parkis and fox-skins, fur blankets, and a pair of seal-skin mittens, all of which, apparently, he had had secreted under his bed, or between it and the wall.
Presently it seemed that father and son were taking the guest into consideration. Muckluck also turned to him now and then, and by-and-by she said: "I think he go." "Go where?" "Holy Cross," said the old man eagerly. "Brother Paul," Nicholas explained. "He go down river. We get Holy Cross more quick." "I see. Before he can get back. But why do you want to go?" "See Father Brachet."
But that only started the discussion going faster than ever. "You didn't!" "I did!" "You can't!" "I can!" "I will!" "You won't!" and so on and so on they went. Probably they would be quarrelling yet, if Little White Fox had not caught sight of a very tall person coming through the muckluck grass. It was the dreadful Omnok, the hunter! "Look out!" he cried. But he was too late.
Nig, following calmly, walked on prostrate bodies till he reached his friend. "Now, your paw, pardner. F-ith! Bad, ain't it?" he appealed to the toothless squaw. Her best friend could not have said her wizened regard was exactly sympathetic, but it was attentive. She seemed intelligent as well as kind. "Look here," whispered the Boy, "let that muckluck string o' mine alone."
"All the crews hard at work with jackscrews," said Donovan; "and if they can get skids under, and a channel blasted through the ice, they may get the boats down here in fifteen or twenty days." A heavy blow. But instantly everyone began to talk of the May West and the Muckluck as though all along they had looked for succour to come up-stream rather than down.
"You say that, after what's happened this morning?" Muckluck declined to take the verdict back. "Did you see him strike her?" "No hurt." "Oh, didn't it? He threw her down, as hard as he could, on the ice." "She get up again." He despised Muckluck in that moment. "You weren't sorry to see another girl treated so?" She smiled. "What if it had been you?" "Oh, he not do that to me." "Why not?
"I've been ready this half-hour hangin' about waitin' for you. That devil Joe," he went on, lowering his voice as he came up and speaking hurriedly, "has been trying to drag Yagorsha's girl into his ighloo. They've just had a fight out yonder on the ice. I got her away, but not before he'd thrown her down and given her a bloody face. We ought to tell old Yagorsha, hey?" Muckluck chuckled.
That Muckluck o' yours is a minx." "She ain't my Muckluck, and I don't believe she's a minx, not a little bit." Not wishing to be too hard on his pardner, the Colonel added: "I lay it all to the chaparejos myself." Then, observing his friend's marked absence of hilarity, "You're very gay in your fine fringes." "Been a little too gay the last two or three hours."
Word Of The Day
Others Looking