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The next day dragged along in the same manner; the command marching bravely along through dust and heat and thirst, as Kipling's soldier sings: "With its best foot first And the road a-sliding past, An' every bloomin' campin'-ground Exactly like the last". Beal's Springs did not differ from the other ranch, except that possibly it was even more desolate.
This, thort I, 'll do for campin'-ground; so I got down, pulled the saddle off o' my ole mar, an' staked the critter upon the best patch o' grass that wur near, intendin' she shed hev her gut-full afore the camp cattle kim up to bother her. "I hed shot a black-tail buck, an' after kindlin' a fire, I roasted a griskin' o' him, an' ate it.
A full hour was spent in getting men and animals ready to drink without injury, and Yellow Pine at last declared, triumphantly, "Jedge, we've won the riffle; we won't lose a hoof. All the men are doing first-rate too. This 'ere's my old campin'-ground, but there's been an Indian camp here since sun-up." "How do you know that, Pine?" "Found live fire. There hasn't been any dew on it to put it out.
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