“How be ’lone?—­Mister Harvey dere.”

“No, he isn’t, by a jug-full—­barring the jug must be well-nigh empty, and the divil save the jug, inny-how; but not until it’s impty.”

“Where Mr. Harvey go, if not in cabin?” asked the savage, betraying a suspicious eagerness that would have been observed by Teddy upon any other occasion.

“To the village, that he may preach and hould converse wid ’em.  I allers used to stay at home when he’s gone, for fear that owld thaif of a hunter might break into the pantry and shtail our wines—­that is, if we had any, which we haven’t.  Blast his sowl—­that hunter I mane, an’ if iver I cotch him, may I be used for a flail if I don’t settle his accounts.”

“When Mister Harvey go to village?”

“Whin he plaises, which is always in the afternoon, whin his dinner has had a fair chance to sittle.  Does ye take him for a michanic, who goes to work as soon as he swallows his bread and mate?” said the Irishman, with official dignity.

“Why you not stay with squaw?”

“That’s the raison,” replied Teddy, imbibing from the vessel beside him.  “But you will plaise not call Miss Cora a shquaw any more.  If ye does, it will be at the imminent risk of havin’ this jug smashed over yer head, afther the whisky is all gone, which it very soon will be if a plug isn’t put into your mouth.”

“Nice woman—­much good.”

“You may well say that, Mister Copperskin, and say nothing else.  And it’s a fine man is Mister Harvey, barring he runs me purty close once in a while on the moral quishtion.  I’m afeard I shall have to knock under soon.  If I could but slay that thaif of a hunter that has been poking around here, I think I could go the Christian aisy; but whin I thinks of that man, I faals like the divil himself.  They’s no use tryin’ to be pious whin he’s around; so pass the jug if ye don’t mane to fight meself.”

“He bad man—­much bad,” said the savage, who had received an account of him from his companion.

“I promised Master Harvey not to shoot the villain, excipt it might be to save his life or me own; but I belave if I had the chance, I’d jist conveniently forgit me promise, and let me gun go off by accident.  St. Pathrick! wouldn’t I like to have a shindy wid the sn’akin, mean, skulkin’ assassin!”

“Does he want kill you?”

“Arrah, be aisy now; isn’t it me master he’s after, and what’s the difference?  Barring I would rather it was meself, that I might sittle it gintaaly wid him;” and Teddy, “squaring” himself, began to make threatening motions at the Indian’s head.

“Bad man—­why not like Mr. Harvey?” said the savage, paying no attention to Teddy’s demonstrations.

“There yees has me.  There’s something atween ’em, though what it might be none but Mr. Harvey himself knows, less it mought be the misthress, that I don’t belave knows a word on it.  But what is it yer business, Mr. Mahogany?”