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Updated: May 20, 2025
See them two letters in the stock thar `WW. Old Nat Cully hez good reezun to recconise them, since 'twas hisself that cut 'em. I did it for Walt two yeern ago, when we war scoutin' on the Collyrado. It's his weepun, an' no mistake." "Where did you find it?" inquires the captain.
"I was only figuring that it's a bit too ornamental for its present purpose. I see the girth has been broken and mended mended with a doubtful piece of string. Why wasn't it sent to the saddler t' be properly fixed up? I've half a notion ter chuck it right away and ride bare-backed. But there ain't time to fool around now. So long, Cully."
'Ow 'e'd noticed the things 'e 'ad with them blindish eyes of 'is, I don't know. I got to count on that boy no end. Fair drunk with satisfaction, I use to feel. Call me a fool if you like, cully, but it was three or four year before I got the idee that there was anythink funny about Elbert.
Not many moments do they remain there; only long enough for the rear files to get out of the gorge, when those in front move forward across the plain, guided by the two best trackers in Texas, Nat Cully and Walt Wilder. At first there is no following of a trail, since there is none visible. Wind, rain, and drifted dust have obliterated every mark made by the returning soldiers.
Once, when according to a stop-watch I really did set up a record, Cully, forgetting his dignity as a prefect in his enthusiasm as a Bramhallite, cried "Alleluia! alleluia!" and hurled Johnson's hat into the air, so that it fell into the water. The members of Erasmus' Four were at first incredulous. "Heard of Bramhall's find?" said they. "They've discovered a young torpedo in Ray.
As he dashed down the slope he kept muttering the old horse's pet names, catching his breath, and calling to Carl, "Save de Gray save Ole Blowhard!" Cully reached the stable first, smashed the padlock with a shovel, and rushed into the Gray's stall. Carl seized a horse-bucket, and began sousing the window-sills of the harness-room, where the fire was hottest.
The wretch is lying on the ground near by, shaking with fear, in spite of the fastenings in which he is tightly held. He knows he is in dire danger, and has only so far escaped through having surrendered to a settler instead of to one of the Rangers. "Let's gie him a chance o' his life; ef he'll tell all about it," counsels Cully. "What d'ye say, cap?"
Here stands the poor Cully again, and looks like a Dog in a Halter, and perceives that this Doctor Jobbernole gives him an abundance of words but few effects for his mony; because all his boasting, doth, for the most part, contain what he had before made use of; and is therefore unwilling to trouble his wives brain with all that boiling and stewing, and all the rest of the circumstances.
While the preparations for departure are going on, Cully who, with several others, has been collecting the arms and accoutrements of their slain enemies gives utterance to a cry that brings a crowd of his comrades around him. "What is it, Nat?" inquires the Ranger captain. "Look hyar, cap! D'ye see this gun?" "Yes; a hunter's rifle. Whose is it?"
Here, cap'n; lend a hand. Lively now, lively, before I straighten out the hull gang of ye!" The voice had a ring of unquestioned authority. It was not quarrelsome or abusive or bullying only earnest and forceful. "Ease away on that guy! Ease away, I tell ye!" it continued, rising in intensity. "So all gone! Now, haul out, Cully, and let that other team back up."
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