But we fought 'em Lawler, we fought 'em till there wasn't a man left standing. But there was too many of 'em. We planted twenty afterward. But about that number got away. I was hit sort of hard, but I watched 'em scutterin' towards Kinney's cañon. They'd been gone some time when Caldwell's outfit an' Shorty come up.
Get ane o' thae snap-traps, or whativer ye ca' them, for takin' photographs; get on for the fire brigade or the lifeboat, join the Rifles or something. There wud be some sense in the like o' that. But fykin' an' scutterin' awa' amon' exyems, as you ca' them, an' triangles, an' a puckle things like laddies' girds and draigons, that nae livin' sowl cud mak' ether eechie or ochie o' Feech!
After a long silence I picked up his book again and pointed at the picture of the mammoth. "What color is it?" I asked. "Kinder red an' brown," he answered, promptly. "It's woolly, too." Astounded, I pointed to the dingue. "One-toed," he said, quickly; "makes a noise like a bell when scutterin' about." Intensely excited, I laid my hand on his arm.