"He nods yes," replied "Eva." "He was a Chippewa."
Again Barney asked something in the strange syllables, writing, "Anindi wendjibaian?"
"He says from many places," said the voice. "When he was on earth plane, he did not stay long anywhere. He wandered; he had a boat; he wants to say, 'I was a humble man; I took fish on hooks and in nets.'"
Barney wrote out his next question before saying it aloud: "Maneto o mikweniman no nossan gaie ningaian?"
"He wants to say," replied the voice, "I have never heard of father."
"Ninga?"
"He says, 'Yes.' He says, 'Mother I knew; mother came to shore bearing child; not born child, he says; she was very sick. I took her in tchi—tchi—"
"What?" Barney asked and held his pencil.
"Tchiman," the voice said, and Barney wrote it. "Canoe, that is. It is thought words he speaks; no language; but he wants Eva to say that to you."
"What did he do then for my mother?"
"He says, 'I took her to my house.'"
"Odenang?"
"Not near any town, he says. Far from any settlement; to a lonely place; he wants Eva again to say his word to you; it is like ajawao—"
"Ajawao," Barney wrote and held his pencil.
"Odjigade," said the voice; and Barney finished the word, "Ajawaodjigade," with unsteady fingers. Ethel heard him catch his breath quickly, and she put out her hand for his pad and pencil.
"Let me do it now," she begged.
