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Updated: May 16, 2025
But the creek became choked with brush and turned back on its course, until Johnny said: "If this crik gits any crookeder it'll fetch us back home." The boys had to cut away two trees which had fallen across the creek where the growth was so thick that to cut a path around would have been more work than to clear away the logs.
"Drop work, all hands," cried Sue. "Mr. Minturn has a 'crik' also, but he's too proud to own it. How you'll groan for this to-morrow, sir!" "If you take that view of the case, I may be under the necessity of giving proof positive to the contrary by coming out to-morrow." "You're not half through yet. The hardest part is to come."
The enclosure was a scrap of paper, so brown with age that it looked as though it had been dipped in coffee, on which was written, in astonishingly black ink, this brief but clear direction: Sheer uppe ye planke midwai atween ye oake and ye hiccorie saplyngs 7 fathom Est of Pequinky crik on ye baye. Ytte is all there.
Not a sign o' Pequinky Crik will you find at this day an' w'at I should like ter know is w'ere on yeth a young feller like you ever s' much as heerd tell about it." This was something that I had not counted on, and I could see that Susan was feeling very low in her mind.
I told her so, the next time I seed her; an' she 'peared pleased 'bout my not havin' her ta'en up. She said it war generous of the White Eagle that's the name her people gies me for thar's a gang o' them still livin' down the crik. She gin me a sort of promise she wouldn't trouble me agin; but I warn't sure o' her. That's the reezun, stranger, I didn't want ye to go fur away."
"I promised him only a dinner," she replied; "nothing was said about its being extra." "Quantity is all I'm thinking of," said Minturn. "I have the sauce which will make it a feast." "Beckon it's gwine on twelve," said Hiram, cocking his eye at the sun. "Hadn't I better feed de critters?" "Ah, old man! own up, now; you've got a backache," said Minturn. "Dere is kin' ob a crik comin' "
Only tourists do that. If you Northern fellers didn't pay us ter git plumes we'd never kill 'em. D'ye remember that key over there?" "No. What about it?" "See that crik by the palmetter 'nd the big stump? Know it now?" "What! Isn't that the creek we slept in night before last?" "Sure! 'nd that's where we wanter go now.
"If you mean Hick Holt's Clearin', it's a leetle better'n six miles from here. He squats on Mud Crik." "There's a squatter upon it, then?" "On Holt's Clearin'? Wal, I shed rayther say there air a squatter on't, an' no mistake." "His name is Holt is it not?" "That same individooal." "Do you think I could procure a guide in Swampville some one who could show me the way to Holt's Clearing?"
I shedn't now be surprised at anythin'. Come, Nat; don't stan' shilly-shallyin', but tell me all about it. Whar did ye git the gun?" "On Peecawn Crik. Thar we kim acrost a party o' Tenawa Kimanch, unner a chief they call Horned Lizart, o' the whom ye've heern. He han't no name now, seein' he's rubbed out, wi' the majority of his band. We did that.
"Say, Conklin," he cried out, "I guess you've given them cattle enough to drink, but I don't buy water for meat. No, sir; you bet, I don't." "I didn't allow you would," replied the Elder gravely; "but the track was long and hot; so they drank in the crik."
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