Irishman, in sad sincerity, at a grievous loss.

"_Asgaya uneka_ (White man), but no Ingliss," said the astute Indian,
touching the breast of each with the bowl of his pipe, still in his hand
and still alight as it was when the interruption of their advent had
occurred.

"No, by the powers,--not English!" exclaimed the Irishman impulsively,
seeing he was already discovered. "I'm me own glorious nation!--the
pride o' the worruld,--I was born in the Emerald Isle, the gem o' the
say! I'm an Oirishman from the tip o' me scalp--in the name o' pity
_why_ should I mintion the contrivance" (dropping his voice to an
appalled muffled tone)--"may the saints purtect ut! But surely, Mister
Injun, I've no part nor lot with the bloody bastes o' Englishers either
over the say or in the provinces. If I were the brother-in-law o' the
Governor o' South Carolina I'd hev a divorce from the murtherin'
Englisher before he could cry, 'Quarter!'"

Oo-koo-koo, the wise Owl, made no direct answer.

"_Asgaya uneka_ (White man), but no Ingliss," he only said, now
indicating L'Épine.

"Frinch in the mornin', plaze yer worship, an' only a bit o' English
late in the afternoon o' the day," cried O'Kimmon, officiously, himself
once more.

"French father, English mother," explained L'Épine, feeling that the
Indian was hardly a safe subject for the pleasantries of conundrums.