Redskin they call 'Little Beaver.'"

"I've been watching you," retorted Yan, "and it seems to me I've run up
against that copper-coloured scallawag--'Young-Man-Afraid-of-a-Shovel.'"

[Illustration: The dam was a great success]

"No, you don't," said Sam. "Nor I ain't
'_Bald-Eagle-Settin'-on-a-Rock-with-his-Tail-Hangin'-over-the-Edge,'_
nuther. In fact, I don't keer to be recognized just now. Ain't it a
relief to think the cattle don't have to take that walk any more?"

Sam was evidently trying to turn the subject, but Yan would not be
balked. "I heard Si call you 'Woodpecker' the other day."

"Yep. I got that at school. When I was a kid to hum I heerd Ma talk
about me be-a-u-tiful _golden_ hair, but when I got big enough
to go to school I learned that it was only _red_, an' they called
me the 'Red-headed Woodpecker.' I tried to lick them, but lots of them
could lick me an' rubbed it in wuss. When I seen fightin' didn't
work, I let on to like it, but it was too late then. Mostly it's just
'Woodpecker' for short. I don't know as it ever lost me any sleep."

Half an hour later, as they sat by the fire that Yan made with
rubbing-sticks, he said, "Say, Woodpecker, I want to tell you a
story." Sam grimaced, pulled his ears forward, and made ostentatious
preparations to listen.

"There was once an Indian squaw taken prisoner by some other tribe way
up north. They marched her 500 miles away, but one night she escaped