human
What's ticklin' yer?
gpt
I--I was thinking of our little toy woods at home, just at that moment, stammered Simpson, coming back to what really dominated his mind, and startled by the question,
human
All the same I wouldn't laugh about it, if I was you, Défago added, looking over Simpson's shoulder into the shadows.
gpt
There's places in there nobody won't never see into--nobody knows what lives in there either.
human
Too big--too far off?
gpt
Say, you, Boss Simpson, he began suddenly, as the last shower of sparks went up into the air,
human
Nothing but burning wood,
gpt
And all the evenin' you ain't smelt--nothing? persisted the guide, peering at him through the gloom;
human
No, no, man; nothing at all!
gpt
That's good! he exclaimed with evident relief.
human
That's good to hear.
gpt
Have _you?_
human
I guess not, he said, though without overwhelming conviction.
gpt
It must've been just that song of mine that did it. It's the song they sing in lumber camps and godforsaken places like that, when they're skeered the Wendigo's somewhere around, doin' a bit of swift traveling.--
human
And what's the Wendigo, pray?