Conversation Overheard Between Miss Gaylee Cooper and She Who Tracks

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Posted by Ann Owl on February 19, 2000 at 11:23:06:

"Good morning, She. I just stopped by to thank you for that lovely haunch of venison you left hanging on my porch last night. And, here, I brought you a new pair of moccasins that I picked up at the Huron Handicrafts sale last week. The one you've got on is looking a little the worse for wear, and I thought it was the least I could do when you've kept me in venison all winter. Hope they fit all right."

"I do thank ye, Miss Cooper. These're fine moccasins, sartain. . . . perfect fit, yes, perfect fit. It'll be good to have two again. Lost one in the swamp last week, and haven't had time to git up to the trader's to see about replacin' it. Yer a kind lady, Miss Cooper."

"Pretty quiet around your cabin this morning. Where's your dear old (*mangey, smelly, disgusting*) hound Hector today? Never came up here that he wasn't sleeping right beside you."

"Well, now that's a funny thing, Miss Cooper. Ol' Hector come home on the run night before last, a-yippin' and a-squallin' like he'd been in some kind of trouble. He didn't even stop at the cabin, but tore straight down to where I have the canoe upturned on the riverbank, an' gosh durn, if that hound didn't start a-tunnellin' straight under the canoe like he was headin' fer Chinee - dirt an' leaves flyin' everplace! He's burrowed down under there somewheres and hain't come up fer food or water or anything. Don't know what got into him! I went over there and tried to call him out, and all I could see was the whole canoe a-tremblin' over him. Got a faint whiff o' somethin' like polecat, but not strong enough to seem he'd actually mixed it up with one. Anyways, Hector's not about to tie into one o' them creaturs, having had past experience o' the social problems involved. Just don't know what his problem is."

"Dear me, I hope we're not about to have some disruptions in town again. Dear old Hector is such a peaceful hound (*limp, stupid rag of a dog*), that everytime he gets upset about anything, it always seems to forebode some new sort of craziness around Mohicanland. Well, maybe it's just a temporary case of nerves. I must be running along, now. Thank you again for the fine venison."

"And thank you agin' fer the fine moccasins! They surely are appreciated!"

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