CHRONICLES OF THE CARIBOO 17

were received all too coolly to suit him, thought he’d try and warm her
spirit with a sip of the spirits of alcohol. Surreptitiously producing
his flask he said to her: ‘Try some of this, Agat. Just a little sip.
It’s nice. Make you feel good - all happy like. See.”

After taking a sip himself to show her how, he handed her the
flask and she took it without question. Probably out of pure curios-
ity, as she had never yet tasted liquor; but she must have heard plenty
about it - enough to know what it was Sellers was handing to her.
But she must have thought if a little sip would make her feel good, a
big sip should make her feel better; so, disdaining an experimental
taste she took a big sip - a good mouthful in fact - Wagh! - with dis-
astrous results. The raw spirits gagged and choked her, of course, and
she coughed it all out instantly. She must have been a cool hand too,
at that; for she didn’t drop the flask. Probably swallowing but a tiny
portion, she quickly recovered and handed the flask back saying:
“Waugh! You cultas Whiteman! You try for keel me? Pizin, dat one,
Waugh!” Springing up she tried to wipe the stuff off her dress with
her little brown hands.

In the semi-darkness few had seen the manoeuver. But Eaptiste
and Tomaah were covertly watching and saw it all. In a single leap
they stood ccnfronting the group who had al! now risen. Silently and
swiftly, as if by instinct, the several chiefs stepped up beside their
tribesmen, their faces like masks betraying no emotion save for their
darting glances from restless black eyes glinting in the firelight. An
ecminous silence brocded for a moment. Then Baptiste spoke: “Jeem,
ma frien’, Gis not good you do dis tam. Mebbe you not know Injin
much, you mak mistake. You mai:’ eet dronk dem gel, Shuswap mad
lak’ Hell. Shuswap good mans, good frien’ spose not mad. Shuswap
mad, he mean lak’ Fell, mak eet plenty troub’ for whiteman. Mebbe
fight, mebbe keel. Dat not good. Me, I know ma frien’ Jeem he’s
good man inside; good head, too, Jus’ mak’ wan mistake dis tam, das
all.” Offering his hand he continued: “Shake han’ me, ma_ frien’
Jeem!”

Jim’s ccol head and good nature assisting, he essayed to accept at
once; but he still held the flask in his right hand and in passing it
over to his left, it was adroitly siezed by the astute Indian in a single
movement so fast and so perfectly timed, yet apparently effortless as
to constitute a perfect dream of dexterous precision; so that the flask
seemed to jump from Jim’s hand to the Indian’s as if by magnetic at-
traction. Probably, to get possession of the flask without a struggle
was the main motive for the Indian’s friendly gesture. Anyway it suc-
ceeded and they shook hands warmly. Then Baptiste stepped over to
the fire where he picked up a stone and said: “Now, Agat, At-t’us, I
show you what kin’ devil fire water whiteman dreenk is not good for
Injin.” Holding the stone over the fire he broke the flask on it dash-
ing its inflammable contents into the flames. He had to step back
quickly to avoid the sudden flare up of bluish flames that leaped into
the night air.