human
Red-skins!
gpt
By the eternal! I'm fixed this time! Darn my stupid carcase for not havin' eyes set in the back o' my head. Wal, you may grin, old copper-skins, it's your turn now--maybe, it'll be mine next. What are you a-doin' now?
human
Wal, gentlemen! said Cris,
gpt
Much obleeged to you for your escort, which I ked a done without. Thanks to your red-skin perliteness for nothin'. Go ahead, I kin walk without your helpin' me. Where are ye bound for?
human
To the chief,
gpt
The chief! What chief?
human
Wacora.
gpt
Wacora, eh? If that's the case, I reckon the days o' Cris Carrol air drawin' to a close. The fiercest and most 'vengeful cuss of them all, I've heard say. Lead on, I'll go along with ye willin, but not cheerful. If they kill me like a man I'll not tremble in a jint; but if it's the torture--there, go ahead. Don't keep the party waitin'.