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Updated: June 28, 2025
I'm lonesome as one bug all alone in a buffler robe. See any footin' over 'cross? I'm gittin' tired o' this outpost business. All foolishness. We'll know when we strike th' red devils. No need o' havin' some one tell us. Your hoss looks sorter peaked. S'pose we'll have a mess of a fight soon? We boys come along to fight, not to stand like stockade-timbers out here all alone."
Thur's no hopes o' meetin' the buffler this side, arter the splurry them Injuns has gin them." "That is true enough," said Seguin. "We must go round the mountain before we can expect to fall in with the buffalo. The Indian hunt has chased them clean off from the Llanos. Come, then! Let us set about our work at once. We have yet two hours before sunset. What would you do first, Rube?
"I think that's the way Timmendiquas looks at it, an' I'd like to stan' ez high ez a white man, ez he does ez a red man." "I kin smell that cookin' buffler an' venison all the way across the river," said Jim Hart, "an' it's makin' me pow'ful hungry." "It'll have to be cold meat for us this time, Jim," said Henry.
"Do you think we shall meet with any, Joses?" asked Bart. "What, buffler, my lad? Well, I hope so. There's never no knowing, for they're queer beasts, and there's hundreds here to-day, and to-morrow you may ride miles and miles, and not see a hoof. Why, I've known times when I've come upon a drove that was miles long." "Miles, Joses?" "Yes, Master Bart, miles long.
We cannot touch the Pinon spring without leaving our marks too plainly; and it is the very place where the war-party may make a halt." "I sees no confoundered use in the hul on us crossin' the paraira now. We kan't hunt buffler till they've passed, anyways. So it's this child's idee that a dozen o' us 'll be enough to `cacher' in the Peenyun, and watch for the niggurs a-goin' south.
"Jump off, Master Bart," cried Joses; "there's buffler in sight, and we don't want to scare 'em."
He had lifted it high up with its back to his breast, his arms clasped under its shoulders; the wretched brute had curled up caterpillar-wise, with its long tail against its belly, and through its filed teeth grinned a fixed and impotent wrath. And Parson Jones was shouting: "The tiger and the buffler SHELL lay down together!
As thar ain't no great slobber about, ye see, I make my kalklations that the ground must a been well dried afore they kim along, and after such a wet, it could not a been afore noon at the least so that's how I know the buffler passed at that hour."
'Twur a little arter sun up, an' I war sittin' on the bank, when I seed something cur'ous like floatin' down stream. When it kim closer, I seed it wur the karkidge of a buffler, and a couple of buzzards floppin' about on the thing, pickin' its peepers out. 'Twur far out, an' the water deep; but I said I was goin' to fetch it ashore, an' I did. I took to the water an' swum out.
I've wintered many a time without none only grass in my moccasins. There's outfits in this train that's low on flour an' side meat right now, let alone socks. We got to cure some meat. There's a million buffler just south in the breaks wantin' to move on north, but scared of us an' the Injuns. We'd orto make a good hunt inside o' ten mile to-morrer.
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