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Updated: June 18, 2025
French scoundrels! Bob, what is it?" "Why, yer see, Cap'n, ye've had a cut hyur over the head; and we think it's them Frenchmen." "Oh! I remember now; a blow but the Death? the Death?" I started up from the bed as the phantom of my night adventure returned to my imagination. "The Death, Cap'n? what do yer mean?" inquired Lincoln, holding me in his strong arms.
"Hit's stood hyur twenty year through all the storms; I reckon it can stand one more night of it." "A man couldn't walk upright, outside the cabin," I asserted, thinking of the St. Louis tornado, in which I had lain flat on my belly, clinging to an iron post. The hunchback turned to me with a grave face. "I've seed hit blow, here on top o' Smoky, till a hoss couldn't stand up agin it.
Thur's witnesses o' both sides yur own beauties down yander; an' some hyur o' a better sort, I reck'n. Afore them, I call on ye to declar that yur proofs wur false, an' that I'm innocent o' the crime o' murder!" There was a profound silence when the speaker finished. The strange and unexpected nature of the demand, held every one in breathless surprise.
They eat 'em by times, that's true; but thur's a releegius raison for that, not many hyur understands, I reckin." "And what would you have us do?" "Why, jest heist a bit o' a white rag an' offer to swop pris'ners.
It excited no comment at all when Old Pete would lean across his bare counter and lament that "Thar's lots o' folks a-hurtin' around hyur for lard, and I ain't got none." I have seen the time when our neighborhood could get no salt nor tobacco without making a twenty-four-mile trip over the mountain and back, in the dead of winter.
After bettin' a good spell, I won somewhar about a hundred dollars. Not likin' the sign I seed about, I tuk Jack and put out. Wal, jest as I was kummin' roun' this hyur corner, four fellers them ye seed run out and jumped me, like so many catamounts.
Murder! Help, hyur!" I ran up. It was very dark; but the glimmer of a distant lamp enabled me to perceive a man out in the middle of the street, defending himself against four others. He was a man of giant size, and flourished a bright weapon, which I took to be a bowie-knife, while his assailants struck at him on all sides with sticks and stilettoes.
How, then, was Rube to "take the shine out o' that Injun's shot"? This was the question that each was asking the other, and which was at length put directly to Rube himself. "Shet up your meat-traps," answered he, "an I'll show 'ee. In the fust place, then, 'ee all see that this hyur prickly ain't more'n hef size o' the squash?" "Yes, sartainly," answered several voices.
"Wal, I fust clomb a conside'able hill, that gin me a view beyont. Thur war a good-sized parairy layin' torst the south an' west. Thur wur no trees 'ceptin' an odd cotton-wood hyur an' thur on the hillside. "About a mile off I seed a flock of goats what you'd call antelopes, though goats they ur, as sure as goats is goats.
A dozen mout do it safe enough, but not the hul cavayard." "And would you have the rest to remain here?" "Not hyur. Let 'em go north'ard from hyur, and then strike west through the Musquite Hills. Thur's a crick runs thur, about twenty mile or so this side the trail. They can git water and grass, and `cacher' thur till we sends for 'em."
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