"Such a great chief must have many warriors—many people. I do not see any. Were those your people that I saw in the canoe?"
"Nittinat's people all gone," answered the old man sadly, dropping his chin upon his rush-clad breast.
"But we saw a canoe with fourteen warriors in it, besides yourself," Charlie eagerly asserted. "Where are those young men?"
"Me great medicine man; make see canoe—make see young men," responded the owner of the place, with a wan yet superior sort of smile.
Charlie glanced at us, then asked quite deferentially, "Can you make us see what is not here?"
"You have seen," was the brief reply.
"Ask him why we are thus favored," whispered Fanny.
"This young cloochman (you see I must talk to him in his own tongue, Fanny), wishes to know why you opened our eyes to your great medicine."
"White man come to Nittinat's land, white man see Nittinat's power. White man ask questions!"—this last contemptuously, at which Fanny laughed, as asking questions was one of her reserved rights.
"You must be an old man, since these waters are named after you," suggested I. "Who was the first white man you remember seeing?"
"Hyas tyee, Cappen Cook. Big ship—big guns!" answered Nittinat, warming with the recollection.
"This is a good lead," remarked Charlie, sotto voce; "follow it up, Pierre."
"You were a child then? very little?" making a movement with my hand to indicate a child's stature.
"Me a chief—many warriors—big chief. Ugh!" said the mummy, with kindling eyes.
At this barefaced story, Charlie made a grimace, while he commented in an undertone: "But it is ninety-six years since Captain Cook visited this coast. How the old humbug lies."
