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Updated: June 12, 2025
"Ge-hosaphat! Hyur's a fellur ridin' 'ithout eyther saddle or bridle!" Five or six men with rifles sprang out from the rocks, surrounding me. "May an Injun eat me ef 'tain't the young fellur as tuk me for a grizzly! Billee! look hyur! hyur he is! the very fellur! He! he! he! He! he! he!" "Rube! Garey!" "What! By Jove, it's my friend Haller! Hurrah! Old fellow, don't you know me?" "Saint Vrain!"
Why, Pomp, ole fellur, you hab made a mistake de varmint ain't dar, 'Cooney nebber trees upon buttonwood nebber you oughter know better'n dat, ole fool! "Abe's speech drew my attention to the tree. But why should the 'coon not `tree' upon it, as well as any other? I put the question to my companion. "`'Cause, massa, its bark am slickery. De varmint nebber takes to 'im.
Thur wur a sight o' mountainy men thur, at the time, that wa'n't the fellurs to see this child put down on the parairar for nuthin'. Yander's the critter!" and Rube pointed to the old mare. "The rifle I gin to Bill, an' kep Tar-guts instead, seeing she wur a better gun." "So you got square with the Rapahoes?" "That, young fellur, justs rests on what 'ee 'ud call squar.
"Well if you wish to know to-night, I'll go myself, and speak to the guide. No doubt, if the dog came with them, he can tell us all about it? You stay here till I return?" "Don't be long then. Ho, Wolf! ole fellur! Injuns have had ye, eh? Durn it, old boy! I'm as gled to see ye, as if "
F'r all that, whur the timmer's clost an' brushy, an' the ground o' that sort whur a hoss mout stummel, it are allers the safest plan to let ole Eph'm slide. I've seed a grizzly pull down as good a hoss as ever tracked a parairy, whur the critter hed got bothered in a thicket. The fellur that straddled him only saved himself by hookin' on to the limb o' a tree.
I was interrupted by an exclamation a horrid oath that came fiercely hissing from the lips of the squatter. "Damnation!" cried he; "you be damned! Civil treetmint i'deed! You're a putty fellur to talk o' civil treetmint, arter jumpin' yur hoss over a man's fence, an' ridin' slap-jam inter his door, 'ithout bein' asked!
So I says as perlite as possible, "None of that, old fellur catch hold. I fetched 'em for you, and I'm bound to see you eat 'em." "Sare, you are too kind," said he; and he vent to vork again. Arter a spell, he stopped. "Don't like 'em hey?" says I, pretendin' to be mad. "I sall prove ze contraire," said he, in a kind of die-away manner, and he went into 'em agin.
He knows these diggin's better'n any o' us; an' he oughter know whur to cacher, I reckin. He's did that, I'll be boun'." "Ay, if he would," said I, thinking that Seguin might have followed the captives, and thrown away his life recklessly. "Don't be skeert about him, young fellur. The cap ain't a-gwine to put his fingers into a bee's nest whur thur's no honey; he ain't."
"Now's your time, young fellur! Out, and gi' them fits!" With a feeling of desperate resolve, I clutched my pistol and dashed through the smoking brushwood. I heard a wild and deafening shout. I saw a crowd of men of fiends. I saw spears, and tomahawks, and red knives raised, and
I creeped out some'rs about the door; an' jest then I seed the cap, hand to hand wi' an Injun in a stan'-up tussle: but it didn't last long. The cap gi'n him a sockdolloger some'rs about the ribs, an' the niggur went under; he did." "But what of Seguin? Did you see him afterwards?" "Did I see him arterwards? No; I didn't." "I fear he is killed." "That ain't likely, young fellur.
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