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He pointed to the débris of shattered rock about the spring. "The wataire fell over a cap-rock here," he said brusquely, the nervous constriction of his throat making it hard for him to say anything. "The strata underneath were soft and had been worn away by the wataire. I put a duck-nest of dynamite in there this morning, and see there!"
Een de wintaire, A'm so Godamn hot A'm lak for die. Non! A'm com' way from dere. A'm goin' Nort' an' git me nodder job w'ere A'm git som' wataire som'tam'. Mebbe so git too mooch col' in wintaire, but, voila! Better A'm lak I freeze l'il bit as burn oop!" The Texan laughed. "I don't blame you none. I never be'n down to Yuma but they tell me it's hell on wheels. Go ahead an' deal, Pedro."
Sullen, and dull, it scarce broke the monotony of the silence low, yet ever increasing in volume. "Another portage?" wearily asked the girl. Vermilion shook his head. "Non, eet ees de Chute. Ten miles of de wild, fast wataire, but safe eef you know de way. Me Vermilion I'm tak' de scow t'rough a hondre tam bien!" "But, you can't make it in the dark!" Vermilion laughed. "We mak' de camp to-night.
Tomor' A'm git de freight train goin' Nort' an' som'tam' A'm git to Montan'. Eet ees ver' far, but mebbe-so A'm git dere for fall round-up. An' Ba Goss, A'm nevaire com' sout' no mor'. Too mooch hot! Too mooch no wataire! Too mooch, w'at you call, de pizen boog mebbe-so in de bed in de pants in de boot you git bite an' den you got to die! Voila! Wat de hell!"
You goin' down dere an' git job you see de good contrie. You no com' back Nort' no more. So A'm goin' down w'en de col' wedder com' an' A'm git de job wit' ol' man Fisher on, w'at you call Yuma bench Sacré!" The half-breed paused and wiped his face. "Didn't you like it down Yuma Way?" Benton smiled. "Lak it! Voila! No wataire! No snow! Too mooch, w'at you call, de leezard!
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