"It's just where the home is," I says, "or it was. There wasn't anyhouse then."

Monson shook with laughter though he kept it quiet, and I don't knowwhat pleased him. It would have pleased me then to see him dead, Iwas that savage for the people in the home. 0ne spot on a meanlittle island, and they'd squatted on it! Yet it was plain enough,for the inlet led up to the three trees, which seemed to invite a manto do there whatever he had planned to do.

"Stuff 'em up their chimney," says Monson. "Tip the hut into thecreek. That joke's on them, ain't it?"

I didn't look at how the joke was on them.

"Why, I never knew an Injy islander to dig a cellar," he says: "Theylie on the ground and get ague. Course, they might dig a hole."