"And where do those critters live, then?" queried John.
"Up river. We meet 'em pret' queeck, now. Sometime w'en we land—woof! Dere coom one beast—beeg as one ox—mouth he open; an' mebbe eat us, if brush so t'ick we not see heem soon 'nough."
The listening Kentuckians and other soldiers scratched their heads, as if a little doubtful.
"Faith," said Patrick Gass, "some o' them claws are six inches long, boys. 'Tis a country o' monsters that we're goin' into."
A group of the Sioux had been staring at black York, who, larger than any of them, was gaping back. Suddenly one stepped to him, wet his finger and swiftly drew it down York's cheek; then looked to see if the black had come off.
"Hey, you man!" growled York. "Wha' foh you done do dat?"
Another Sioux deftly snatched off York's hat, and clutched the black curly wool underneath; but it would not come off, either. Much impressed, the circle widened respectfully, and Sioux murmured gutturally to Sioux.
"That's all right, York," warned Captain Clark, who had noted; for his own red hair had been attracting much attention. "They say you're great medicine."
"Oui; he black buffalo," affirmed young Dorion.
After that York strutted importantly, alarmed the
