"Nick help carry 'em. Carry t'ing for dat squaw hundred time."
"That what! D'ye mane Madam Willoughby by yer blackguard name?"
"Yes; cap'in wife--cap'in squaw, mean him. Carry bundle, basket, hundred time for him."
"The Lord preserve me, now, from sich atrocity and impudence!" laying down the cloaks and bundles, and facing the Indian, with an appearance of great indignation--"Did a body ever hear sich a liar! Why, Misther Ould Nick, Madam Willoughby wouldn't let the likes of ye touch the ind of her garments. You wouldn't get the liberty to walk in the same path with her, much less to carry her bundles. I'll answer for it, ye're a great liar, now, ould Nick, in the bottom of your heart."
"Nick great liar," answered the Indian, good-naturedly; for he so well knew this was his common reputation, that he saw no use in denying it. "What of dat? Lie good sometime."
"That's another! Oh, ye animal; I've a great mind to set upon ye at once, and see what an honest man can do wid ye, in fair fight! If I only knew what ye'd got about yer toes, now, under them fine-looking things ye wear for shoes, once, I'd taich ye to talk of the missus, in this style."
"Speak as well as he know how. Nick never been to school. Call 'e squaw, _good_ squaw. What want more?"
"Get out! If ye come a foot nearer, I'll be at ye, like a dog upon a bull, though ye gore me. What brought ye into this paiceful sittlement, where nothing but virtue and honesty have taken up their abode?"
What more Mike might have said is not known, as Nick caught a sign from the captain, and went loping across the flat, at his customary gait, leaving the Irishman standing on the defensive, and, to own the truth, not sorry to be rid of him. Unfortunately for the immediate enlightenment of Mike's mind, Joel overheard the dialogue, and comprehending its meaning, with his native readiness, he joined his companion in a mood but little disposed to clear up the error.
"Did ye see that _crathure_?" asked Mike, with emphasis.
"Sartain--he is often seen here, at the Hut. He may be said to live here, half his time."
"A pritty hut, then, ye must have of it! Why do ye tolerate the vagabond? He's not fit for Christian society."
"Oh! he's good company, sometimes, Mike. When you know him better, you'll like him better. Come; up with the bundles, and let us follow. The captain is looking after us, as you see."