Page:Nattie Nesmith (1870).pdf/213

 "You ought to have pitied their helplessness, and let them alone."

"We didn't do anything only stir them up a bit, and make a good dinner from their kettle of broth," said the next man. "That was capital broth, Jacques. I don't believe that the greasy squaws made it. 'T was the white gal, I fancy."

The young man at the opening drew back at these words, while the breath came hot and quick through his closed teeth, but he resumed his former position.

"What!" exclaimed the woman, looking up quickly, "was there a white one among them?"

"One whiter than the rest," answered the third man; "but she wouldn't tell whether she was squaw or not, so we served her the same as the rest."

"How was that?" asked the woman.

The three men looked at each other, and the one who had first spoken, and who seemed a bold-