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That is the tenderfoot's, or, as we say, the chechaco's, fear; it is the one thing that it may almost be said never happens. But the boy fell down completely and was frankly at a loss. All we could get out of him was: "May-be-so we catch cabin bymeby, may-be-so no."
Tad did not try to guide Pink-eye any more, but let him follow the others, and when he got a little out of his course, the pony next to him would crowd Pink-eye over where he belonged. "Seems to me we are a long time getting there," announced the boy finally. He was beginning to grow uneasy again. "Come camp bymeby," informed the young Indian. "Chief, him know way."
Just as they were ready to rise from the table Hop Joy glided in. "Nail, he backee," he announced. "Say he got heap talkee." "Tell him to come round to the veranda," ordered Mr. Wilder. "By the way, how are you coming along with the cooking, Hop Joy?" "Allee lightee. Bymeby, two hours maybe." "Well, don't be any longer. The sooner Ned can start, the sooner he'll reach the Pool."
"I used to be a white man, myself," he said, "before I lost my soap. What's the chance to git a bite of that bymeby?" He threw his hand out toward the pot of beef, which was sending out odors of a rich broth, flavored with onions and chili. Hardy looked at him again, little shrimp of a man that he was, and still with disapproval.
"Well, bymeby my ole mistis say she's broke, an she got to sell all de niggers on de place. An' when I heah dat dey gwyne to sell us all off at oction in Richmon', oh, de good gracious! I know what dat mean!" Aunt Rachel had gradually risen, while she warmed to her subject, and now she towered above us, black against the stars.
"Well, dah was my ole man gone, an' all my chil'en, all my seven chil'en an' six of 'em I hain't set eyes on ag'in to dis day, an' dat's twenty-two year ago las' Easter. De man dat bought me b'long' in Newbern, an' he took me dah. Well, bymeby de years roll on an' de waw come. My marster he was a Confedrit colonel, an' I was his family's cook.
A much-bethumbed envelope, addressed in crooked "printed" characters to "Mis Janis Day, Pokton," enclosed in a teacher's letter to the storekeeper, was the cover of Janice's love letter. Inside, the child said: "Dear Janis, jus' to think, I can see reel good, and my techur what I luv says maybe I will heer reel good bymeby.
The "Sister Sue" was at anchor in the bay. The skipper lighted his pipe and sat down all hunched together, puffing away with most aggravating deliberateness. "Aren't you coming ashore so we may get aboard and see the boat?" called Harriet. "Bymeby," was the laconic answer. "I am the commodore. I wish " "The what?" "The commodore," answered Harriet, laughing so that she barely made herself heard.
So I says, a raff is what I's arter; it doan' MAKE no track. "I see a light a-comin' roun' de p'int bymeby, so I wade' in en shove' a log ahead o' me en swum more'n half way acrost de river, en got in 'mongst de drift-wood, en kep' my head down low, en kinder swum agin de current tell de raff come along. Den I swum to de stern uv it en tuck a-holt.
And he said: "Ef you's got hairy arms en a hairy breas', it's a sign dat you's agwyne to be rich. Well, dey's some use in a sign like dat, 'kase it's so fur ahead. You see, maybe you's got to be po' a long time fust, en so you might git discourage' en kill yo'sef 'f you didn' know by de sign dat you gwyne to be rich bymeby." "Have you got hairy arms and a hairy breast, Jim?"
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