Slavin and Yorke hailed them familiarly.  The elder buck rejoiced in the sonorous title of “Minne-tronk-ske-wan,” but divers convictions for insobriety under the Indian Liquor Act, and the facetious tongue of Yorke, had contorted this into the somewhat opprobrious nickname of “Many Drunks.”  His companion was known as “Sun Dog.”

They now proceeded to shake hands all around.  “How!  Many Drunks!” shouted Yorke.  Pointing to Redmond, he added “oweski skemoganish” (new policeman).  With a ferocious grin, intended for an ingratiating smile of welcome, Many Drunks advanced upon George, with outstretched hand.  In a rapid aside Yorke said:  “Listen, Reddy, to what he says, he only knows six or seven words of English, but he’s as proud as Punch of ’em—­always likes to get ’em off on a stranger.  Don’t laugh!”

Within a pace of Redmond that gentleman halted.  “How!” he grunted, and, pausing impressively drew himself up and tapped his inflated chest, “Minne-tronk-ske-wan! . . . great man!—­me—­”

And then Redmond nearly choked, as Many Drunks, with intense gravity, proudly conferred upon himself the most objectionable title that exists in four words of the English language—­rounding that same off with a majestic “Wah! wah!”

Turning, George beheld himself the target of covert grins from the others, who evidently were familiar with Many Drunks’ linguistic attainments.  Sun Dog merely uttered “How!  Shemoganish.”  He did not profess ability to rise to the occasion like his companion.

Yorke, who was evidently in one of his reckless, rollicking moods, proceeded to make certain teasing overtures to Many Drunks.  His knowledge of Cree being nearly as limited as that worthy’s knowledge of English, he enlisted the aid of MacDavid as interpreter.  The dialogue that ensued was something as follows: 

“Tell him I’m fed up with the Force and am thinking seriously of going to live on the reserve—­monial nayanok-a-weget—­turn ’squaw-man’—­’take the blanket.’”

MacDavid translated swiftly, received the answer, and turned to Yorke.  “He says ‘Aie-ha! (yes) You make good squaw-man.’”

“Ask him—­if I do—­if he’ll muskkatonamwat (trade) me the young lady over in the corner there, for two bottles of skutiawpwe (whiskey).”

“He says ‘Nemoyah!’ (no)—­if he does that, you’ll turn around and kojipyhok (arrest) him for having liquor in his possession.”

“Tell him—­Nemoyah!  I won’t.”

“He says Aie-hat ekwece! (Yes, all right) you can have her.  Says she’s his brother’s wife’s niece.  But he says you must give him the two bottles of skutiawpwe first, though.”

The object of these frivolous negotiations had meanwhile covered her head with the blanket, from the folds of which issued shrill giggles.  Sun Dog, who had been listening intently with hand scooped to ear (he was somewhat deaf), now precipitated himself into the discussion.  Violently thrusting his elder companion aside he commenced to harangue MacDavid in an excited voice and with vehement gestures of disapprobation of the whole proceedings.  The trader translated swiftly: