grave countenance illumined by a grin.

Following the road, peering narrowly at either side, he finally came in
sight of Talapus Ranch. Halting, he surveyed the fields.

The ditches of Talapus were once more running rap-full; and Donald
McCrae, his son, and half a dozen men were busy with shovels and hoes
turning the water down among the young grain in marks already prepared
which followed the natural slope of the land; taking care that the
little rivulets should be of sufficient strength to run the length of
the field, but not so strong as to wash out the soil; adjusting the
flow to a nicety with miniature dams of sods and stones.

Old Simon rode slowly along the ditch until he came to where Sandy
McCrae was working.

"Hello, Simon!" said the latter carelessly. "How you makin' it this
morning? You keeping _skookum?_"

"Ah-ha!" Simon responded gutturally. "_Skookum_, you?"

"You bet," Sandy replied. "_Hiyu skookum_ me." He leaned on his shovel
for a moment, stretching his young, sinewy body, grinning at the
Indian. The latter dismounted, and, stooping down, touched the young
man's worn footgear.

"_Mamook huyhuy_ moccasin," said he.

"Swap moccasins?" Sandy repeated. "What for? Yours are new. _Chee_
moccasin, you; oleman moccasin, me. What are you getting at? That's
fool talk."

But Simon insisted. "_Mamook huyhuy_," said he. "_Halo mitlite oleman_
moccasin."

"Why shouldn't I wear my old moccasins?" asked Sandy.

Simon lifted McCrae's right foot and placed his finger on a patch
beneath the ball of the great toe. His features expanded in a knowing
grin. Sandy McCrae's face suddenly became grave and his mouth grim. His
voice, when he spoke, was hard and metallic.

"Quit this sign business and spit it out of you," he ordered. "_Mamook
kumtuks!_ Tell me what you mean!"

Simon condescended to a measure of English which he knew well enough,
but which he usually disdained on general principles. He pointed back
whence he had come.

"_Tenas_ sun (early morning) me stop along camp. Boss _tyee_ man
goodandam mad. Him say _cultus_ man _mamook_ raise _hiyu_ hell. Catch
_hiyu skookum_ powder--bang! Whoosh! Upshego!" He mimicked Farwell's
words and gestures to a nicety. "Him say, s'pose me catch _cultus_ man
me catch _kwimnum_ dolla'." He exhibited the five-dollar bill, grinning
once more. "Good! Me _nanitch_ 'round me find trail. Boss _tyee_ man
see track of oleman moccasin." He pointed to Sandy's right foot.

Yo