Just put your horses in and I will be following you." But Kalman knew better than that.
"I don't know how to put in your horses.

Come and put them in yourself, or show me how to do it." He was indignant with the man on his master's behalf.
Mackenzie struggled to his feet, holding the bottle carefully in his outside coat pocket.

Kalman made up his mind to possess himself of that bottle at all costs.

The opportunity occurred when Mackenzie, stooping to unhitch the last trace, allowed the bottle to slip from his pocket.
Like a cat on a mouse, Kalman pounced on the bottle and fled.
The change in Mackenzie was immediate and appalling.

His smiling face became transformed with fury, his black eyes gleamed with the cunning malignity of the savage, he shed his soft Scotch voice with his genial manner, the very movements of his body became those of his Cree progenitors.