"Ye may be thankful yer neck's whole," said Joe, grinning, as Henri
rubbed his shoulder with a rueful look. "An' we'll have to send that
Injun and his family a knife and some beads to make up for the fright
they got."
"Ha! an' fat is to be give to me for my broke shoulder?"
"Credit, man, credit," said Dick Varley, laughing.
"Credit! fat is dat?"
"Honour and glory, lad, and the praises of them savages."
"Ha! de praise? more probeebale de ill-vill of de rascale. I seed dem
scowl at me not ver' pritty."
"That's true, Henri; but sich as it is it's all ye'll git."
"I vish," remarked Henri after a pause--"I vish I could git de vampum
belt de leetle chief had on. It vas superb. Fat place do vampums come
from?"
"They're shells--"
"Oui," interrupted Henri; "I know _fat_ dey is. Dey is shells, and de
Injuns tink dem goot monish, mais I ask you _fat place_ de come from."
"They are thought to be gathered on the shores o' the Pacific," said
Joe. "The Injuns on the west o' the Rocky Mountains picks them up and
exchanges them wi' the fellows hereaway for horses and skins--so I'm
told.
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