Now he jawed about this and that, with scraps of unholy information in his talk. No one paid attention, they talked or sucked at the whisky. The more Indian blood the more silence till the blood is diluted with alcohol. Every now and again some of them squealed with poisonous happiness; outside one might hear the sound of the screams and singing and the unholy jamboree. The noise brought others. Someone knocked at the door. The revellers were happy and pleased to see the world and they yelled a welcome. "Come in, tilikum!" they cried, and Chihuahua opened the door against one klootchman's silent body and showed his dark head and glittering eyes inside. "Where my klootchman? You see my klootchman? Ah, I see!" She was half asleep by the fire, and nodded at him foolishly. He paid no attention for he was after liquor and saw that the gathering welcomed him. He knew them all but Pete, but he had heard of the row in the Mill and had seen the head that Simmons put on Ginger and he knew that a tilikum of Skookum's had been made wedger-off. "You Pete, ah, I tinks." "Nawitka, tilikum, that's me, Pitt River Pete. You have a drink. Ho, Jenny, you give me the bottle. She's my klootchman." Chihuahua took the bottle and drank. He looked at Jenny and saw that she was beautiful. "Muchacha hermosa," he said. She knew what he meant, for she read his eyes. "Your little klootchman hyu toketie, Mister Pete, very peretty, oh, si," said Chihuahua. "Mor'n yours is," hiccupped Jack Mottram. "But--'oo's got a smoke?" The beady-eyed man from Mexico had a smoke: a big bag of dry tobacco and a handful or pocket full of papers. He rolled cigarettes for them all, doing it with infinite dexterity. Drunk or sober Chihuahua could do that. His own klootchman clawed him for one of them and without a word he belted her on the ear and made her bellow. She sat in the corner by the fire and howled as lugubriously as if her dog or her father had just died. "Halo kinootl, halo kinootl, mika tiki cigalette!" "Oh, give the howler one," said Jack, as she kept on howling that she had no tobacco and that her man was angry with her. Pete gave her his, which was already lighted. She giggled and laughed and began crooning a Chinook song:-- "Konaway sun Hyu Keely Annawillee!" It was a mournful dirge: she sang and smoked and wept and giggled and tried to make eyes at Jack who must love her or he could never have given her a "Cigalette." He was heaps nicer than Chihuahua.