Dick confronted him. "The prisoner was mine. I had a right to do with
him as it liked me."
"True, true," cried several of the men who had begun to repent of
their resolution, and were glad the savage was off. "The lad's right.
Get along, Pierre."
"You had no right, you vas wrong. Oui, et I have goot vill to give you
one knock on de nose."
Dick looked Pierre in the face, as he said this, in a manner that
cowed him.
"It is time," he said quietly, pointing to the sun, "to go on. Your
bourgeois expects that time won't be wasted."
Pierre muttered something in an angry tone, and wheeling round his
horse, dashed forward at full gallop, followed by the rest of the men.
The trappers encamped that night on the edge of a wide grassy plain,
which offered such tempting food for the horses that Pierre resolved
to forego his usual cautious plan of picketing them close to the camp,
and set them loose on the plain, merely hobbling them to prevent their
straying far.
Dick remonstrated, but in vain. An insolent answer was all he got for
his pains.
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