WE-NEN-GWAY. 287 



camp. One day when Gibbs stayed in I put a new 

 handle in a little belt axe, and then began sandpapering 

 a handle for the larger camp axe, for we had extra ones. 

 The little axe lay by the fire and I was sitting in the door 

 of the tent, when old Mouthful came up and grunted his 

 salute, and sat down so that his blanket covered the axe. 

 I noted the fact, and said to Gibbs: "Go talk to him; give 

 him a pipeful of tobacco, anything to keep his mind off 

 his appetite, and when I smooth up this axe helve I'll 

 play you a game of euchre." 



While we were playing cards old Mouthful arose, 

 wrapped his blanket about him, and walked off. The 

 belt axe was gone. I called after him, "Nidgee !" several 

 times, but he didn't look around, and I grabbed the axe 

 helve and started after him. He was in a well-worn 

 path, bordered with prickly ash, and when he found me 

 close behind him he sprang into the bush, but not in time 

 to escape a whack on the shoulders with the hickory 

 helve, and he dropped the hatchet. When I returned to 

 camp Gibbs was indignant. Said he: "If I was where I 

 could get out of these woods I'd go. You are always 

 knocking the Indians around, shoving them out of the 

 way if they crowd around the fire, and now you've struck 

 one of them, and we may all be murdered. These In- 

 dians are revengeful, and that man will remember you if 

 he meets you ten years from now." 



"You think he will remember me as long as that?" 



"Yes, he will; he'll treasure that up against you as 

 long as he lives, for their memories are long, and they 

 never forgive an injury." 



"Well, Gibbs," said I, "when I ask him to forgive me 

 it will be time for him to do it. Just now I'm not asking 

 any favors of him, and, as for his remembering me, that's 

 all right. I hope he will, and I'll remember him, and if 



