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Mother ov Moses! is it yerself I hear?" The voice reached us in a hoarse whisper. It appeared to rise out of the earth! For some moments, we all stood, as if petrified by surprise. "Shure-shat!" continued the voice, "won't yez help me out? I'm too wake to get up the bank." "Petrick, as I'm a livin' sinner! Good Lordy, Petrick! wheer air ye? 'Tain't possyble yeer alive?"
Sure enough, it was the track of a man's knee; and the plastic mud exhibited on its surface a print of fretted lines, which must have been made by coarse threadbare cloth! "By Gosh!" exclaimed Sure-shot, "that eer's the infantry overall the givernment cloth to a sartingty. Petrick's been abeout heer. Lordy, tain't possyble he's still living?" "Shure-shat! Shure-shat!
Ye remember, Frank, thar war a goodish grit o' valleyables in the shanty the saynorita's jeweltry an' the like. Jest possyble, in the skrimmage, whiles they war making capter o' thar prisoners, this ugly varmint tuk devantage o' the confusion to secret a whun o' thar gimcracks, an's now goed back arter 'em." "It seems probable enough.
Nay, saide syre Arthur I maye not so, for I haue promysed to doo the bataille to the vttermost by the feythe of my body whyle me lasteth the lyf, and therfor I had leuer to dye with honour than to lyve with shame. And yf it were possyble for me to dye an C tymes, I had leuer to dye so ofte, than yelde me to the, for though I lacke wepen, I shalle lacke no worship.
"Marciful heavens!" he exclaims, suddenly making halt, the gun almost dropping from his grasp. "Kin it be possyble? Frank Hamersley gone under! Them buzzards! They've been upon the groun' to a sartinty. Darnashin! what ked they a been doin' down thar? Right by the bunch o' palmetto, jest whar I left him. An' no sign o' himself to be seen? Marciful heavens! kin it be possyble they've been ?"
Interrupting himself, he remains motionless, apparently paralysed by apprehension, mechanically scanning the palmilla, as though from it he expected an answer to his interrogatory. "It air possyble," he continues after a time, "too possyble too likesome. He war well-nigh done up, poor young fellur; an' no wonder. Whar is he now? He must be down by the side o' the bush down an' dead.
Beside," continued the logician, passing to a fresh point of his argument, "how you s'pose de frigate-bird do 'idout sleep? You know berry well he not got de power to swim, him feet only half web. He no more sit on de water dan a guinea-fowl, or a ole hen ob de dunghill. As for him go 'sleep on de sea, it no more possyble dan for you or me, Massa Ben."
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