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Updated: July 6, 2025
"Well, he all right now," observed Musq'oosis. "All right!" she cried. "I guess he more foolish than before, now he got a team. I guess he think he bigges' man in the country." Musq'oosis stared at her. "W'at's the matter wit' you? You send me all the way to get him team. Now you let on you mad 'cause he got it." "I didn't send you," contradicted Bela. "You say yourself you go."
Coming closer he made out a recumbent figure under a willow-bush. The other boy and the other horse were not visible. It was Musq'oosis. The bush protected him from the sun. With the first glimpse Sam had of his face, remorse attacked him for his suspicions. In truth the old man was far gone. His skin had taken on a waxy, yellow consistency.
On the second morning after, as the walls of Ed Chaney's house were beginning to rise from the ground, the partners were astonished to see a little black horse appear loping along the river-bank, bearing a rider. It proved to be the elder of the Indian boys who had accompanied Musq'oosis. His name was St. Paul. His smooth, brown face and bright, flat eyes gave no hint of the nature of his errand.
Finally Bela turned her face toward him, though it was not Sam she seemed to see. "Come," she said. "He want you." Sam knelt at the other side of Musq'oosis. He held one hand, Bela the other. The old man's face wore a look that humbled him. At the same time the nearness of Bela was making him dizzy. She did not appear to be aware of him. "I'm sorry I spoke like I did," Sam said involuntarily.
I guess I go see Beattie now." "Sit down," said Mahooley. "What do you want to see Beattie for? Why don't you trade with me? Why don't you tell all the Fish-Eaters to come here? They do what you tell them." "Maybe," said Musq'oosis, "but we always trade wit' Beattie." "Time you made a change then. He thinks he's got you cinched." "Gilbert Beattie my good friend." "Hell! Ain't I your friend, too?
"If you go wit' Mahooley, Sam get a white wife," went on Musq'oosis carelessly. "Maybe him send letter to chicadee woman to come back." "All right," said Bela with an air of indifference, "I promise wait six days. I don' want go wit' Mahooley before that, anyhow." They shook hands on it. The sun looked over the hills and laid a commanding finger on Sam's eyelids.
Anyhow, Musq'oosis, calm and smiling, stuck to the point, and, of course, when it came to it the chance of getting the Fish-Eater's trade was too good to be missed. They finally shook hands on the deal. Of the night that followed little need be said.
For some time he had been aware of a woman's figure hiding behind the willows across the stream, and he knew it must be Bela, for there was no canoe on that side, but he would not give her any sign. In Musq'oosis, as in all his race, there was a coy streak. Let the other person make the first move was his guiding maxim. Finally the mournful, idiotic cry of a loon was raised across the stream.
He sat at the door, sunning himself, smoking, meditating, looking for all the world like a little old wrinkled muskrat squatting on his haunches. If it had not been for Musq'oosis, Bela's lot in the tribe would long ago have become unbearable. Musq'oosis was her friend, and he was a person of consequence. The position of his teepee suggested his social status. He was with them, but not of them.
"Musq'oosis say want nobody come but Sam," answered the boy. "Him say doctor got not'ing for him. Him say time has come. Him say want friend to close his eyes. Him say mak' Sam mad before. Him sorry. Want Sam tak' his hand before he go." "Better go right back," suggested Ed with quick sympathy. "The poor old guy!" Sam debated the matter scowling.
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