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Updated: May 14, 2025
She's growed some an' if she ain't purty, well I'd tell a man! You jes' tie yo' hoss up thar behind the mill so she can't see it, an' git inside the mill when she comes round that bend thar. My, but hit'll be a surprise fer her." The old man chuckled so cheerily that Hale, to humour him, hitched his horse to a sapling, came back and sat in the door of the mill.
Thar's a sperit that some of us hes fostered hyar, and hit'll go on jest ther same without us hit's a bigger thing then any man, an' hit's goin' ter dog ye till hit gits ye all every sneakin' mother's son an' every murderin' man-jack of yore sorry outfit!
Jest three-four hunderd pounds o' gold settin' there in them four packs. Hit hain't much, but hit'll help some." Bridger stooped and uncovered the kyacks, unbuckled the cover straps. "Hit's a true fack!" he exclaimed. "Gold! Ef hit hain't, I'm a putrified liar, an' that's all I got to say!"
Yore baby's got ter w'ar a bad man's name but hit'll hev a good woman's blood in hits veins. They'll low I kilt him, Sally. Let 'em b'lieve hit. I hain't got no woman nor no child of my own ter think erbout ... I kin git away an' start fresh in some other place.
"Hit sure looks like hit ought ter be safe er nough, so long as hit warn't mailed at the Ferry where old Stimson could git his hands on hit," agreed Judy. Then, after a silence of several minutes, she added, in a more reassuring voice: "I reckon as how hit'll be all right, ma'm. I wouldn't worry myself, if I was you.
"Well, ef you done had de speunce un it, I'm mighty glad. Ef you got 'lijjun, you better hol' on to it 'twel de las' day in de mornin'. Hit's mighty good fer ter kyar' 'roun' wid you in de day time an' likewise in de night time. Hit'll pay you mo' dan politics, an' ef you stan's up like you oughter, hit'll las' longer dan a bone-fellum.
They rose after their prayer, and stood for a little while with their hearts beating close in a final embrace, then Dorothy took out of her apron pocket a small object and handed it to him. "I nigh fergot ter give hit ter ye," she said, "mebby hit'll prove a lucky piece over thar, Cal."
"Goodness, Uncle Remus! I thought the Wolf let the Rabbit alone, after he tried to fool him about the Fox being dead." "Better lemme tell dish yer my way. Bimeby hit'll be yo' bed time, en Miss Sally'll be a hollerin' atter you, en you'll be a whimplin' roun', en den Mars John'll fetch up de re'r wid dat ar strop w'at I made fer im."
"Fellers, you want to mark whut you dream about, to-night: hit'll shore come true to-morrow." "Yes: but you mustn't tell whut yer dream was till the hunt's over, or it'll spile the charm." There ensued a grave discussion of dream-lore, in which the illiterates of our party declared solemn faith. If one dreamt of blood, he would surely see blood the next day.
Old Jim Bridger never disgraced hisself with a rifle." "Ner me," commented Jackson. "Hold a hair full, Jim, an' cut nigh the top o' the tin. That'll be safer fer my skelp, an' hit'll let less whisky out'n the hole. We got to drink what's left. S'pose'n we have a snort now?" "Atter we both shoot we kin drink," rejoined his friend, with a remaining trace of judgment.
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