"Come now, I'll make it ten cents for the rats."
"Ten cents for rats, one dollar for mink, all cash, then I buy what I
like," was the reply.
It was very necessary to Silas's peace that no customer of his should
cross the street to the sign,
SILAS MEAD
Trading Store
So the bargain, a fair one now, was made, and the Indian went off with a
stock of tobacco, tea, and sugar.
His way lay up the Myanos River, as he had one or two traps set along
the banks for muskrats, although in constant danger of having them
robbed or stolen by boys, who considered this an encroachment on their
trapping grounds.
After an hour he came to Dumpling Pond, then set out for his home,
straight through the woods, till he reached the Catrock line, and
following that came to the farm and ramshackle house of Micky Kittering.
He had been told that the man at this farm had a fresh deer hide for
sale, and hoping to secure it, Quonab walked up toward the house. Micky
was coming from the barn when he saw the Indian. They recognized each
other at a glance. That was enough for Quonab; he turned away. The
farmer remembered that he had been "insulted." He vomited a few oaths,
and strode after the Indian, "To take it out of his hide"; his purpose
was very clear. The Indian turned quickly, stood, and looked calmly at
Michael.
Some men do not know the difference between shyness and cowardice, but
they are apt to find it out unexpectedly Something told the white man,
"Beware! this red man is dangerous." He muttered something about, "Get
out of that, or I'll send for a constable." The Indian stood gazing
coldly, till the farmer backed off out of sight, then he himself turned
away to the woods.
Kittering was not a lovely character. He claimed to have been a soldier.
He certainly looked the part, for his fierce white moustache was curled
up like horns on his purple face, at each side of his red nose, in
a most milita style. His shoulders were square and his gait was
swaggering, beside which, he had an array of swear words that was new
and tremendously impressive in Connecticut. He had married late in life
a woman who would have made him a good wife, had he allowed her. But, a
drunkard himself he set deliberately about bringing his wife to his own
ways and with most lamentable success. They had had no children, but
some months before a brother's child, fifteen-year-old lad, had become
a charge on their hands and, with a
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