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Updated: May 28, 2025
So they tuk the lead, the rest a following an' kem down thar through all that black growth" he lifted his arm and pointed at the great slope, dense with fir and pine and the heavy underbrush "keepin' the bridle-path easy enough even at night, fur the bresh is so thick they couldn't lose thar way.
THAT'S Yeller Bob ahead, and ye orter know Injins well enuff by this time to remember that they allus crop up jest when ye don't expect them. And there's the bresh jest afore us. Come!"
"Oh, this isn't the man at all, Mister a I declare I have disremembered your name," exclaimed Mr. Westall. "I don't reckon ye ever knowed it, kase I never seed hide nor hair of none of ye afore this day," replied the native, with another grin. "But it's Swanson, if it will do ye any good to hear it. I live back here in the bresh about a couple of milds."
I'd be talked about in some places." She laid her hands on the shoulders of her guest, her face beaming. "Now, ef you want to primp up a little an' bresh that hoss-hair off'n yore pants, go in yore room. It's at the end o' the back porch. Alf's already tuck yore saddle-bags thar." His room was a small one. It had a sloping ceiling, and a little six-paned window.
"Des' let dat ar chicken alont, Miss Chris," she said, skilfully reducing the charge to a single offence. "Des' let dat ar chicken alont. 'Tain' no use yo' rilin' yo'se'f 'bout dat. Hit's done en it's been done. Hit don't becomst de quality ter fluster demse'ves over de gwines on uv er low-lifeted fowl. You des' bresh yo'se'f down an steddy like hit ain' been fool you ef you knowed yo'se'f.
An hour later, Whitley knocked at the door of the cabin on the river bank and was admitted by Jake. "Did ye make hit all right?" the mountaineer asked, as Jim entered. The other nodded. "Simpson is sitting on the front porch and I'm supposed to be in bed." Jake chuckled. "Cap an' th' boys air way up th' holler after Bill Davis, an' I'm in the bresh er watchin' you.
"Ye lef' no wood hyar, an' ye said ye would borry the mule, an' come home early a- purpose to haul some. An' me hyar with nuthin' to cook supper with but sech chips an' blocks an' bresh ez I could pick up off'n the groun'." Birt's troubles had crowded out the recollection of this domestic duty. "I clean furgot," he admitted, penitently.
At first the railroads demurred, but the cowboys lined up in the "bresh" on some dark night and pumped Winchesters into the train in a highly picturesque way.
"But I didn't hab no weapon, Mistah Swift, no indeedy, none at all, not even mah razor," repeated Eradicate. "Only de pail ob whitewash. That is, lessen yo' calls mah bresh a weapon." "Well, it's a sort of one," admitted Tom, with a laugh as he started his machine. "Come around next week, Rad. We have some dirt eradicating for you to attend to." "Deed an' I will, Mistah Swift.
He went on slowly: "When I struck this yer camp a minit ago; when I seed that thar ditch meanderin' peaceful like through the street, without a hotel or free saloon or express office on either side; with the smoke just a curlin' over the chimbley of that log shanty, and the bresh just set fire to and a smolderin' in that potato patch with a kind o' old-time stingin' in your eyes and nose, and a few women's duds just a flutterin' on a line by the fence, I says to myself: 'Bulger this is peace!
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