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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 hed no weepun but my knife; I hed let go o' my rifle when I slid from the mar's back, an' it hed gone to the bottom long since. I wan't in any condition to stand a tussle with the painter nohow; so I 'wur determined to let him alone as long's he ud me.
"Ha yo onny weepun abowt yo, lort abbut," he cried, "wi' which ey con free mysel fro' this accussed hound?" "Alas! no, my son," replied Paslew, "and I fear no weapon will prevail against it, for I recognise in the animal the hound of the wizard, Demdike." "Ey thowt t' dule wur in it," rejoined Hal; "boh leave me to fight it owt, and do you gain t' bonk, an mey t' best o' your way to t' Wiswall.
"Wal, then; that ur's a desprit weepun, for them as knows how to use it; an' he diz; that Injun diz. T'other had a hatchet, too, but he didn't keep it long. 'Twur clinked out o' his hands in a minnit, an' then the Coco got a down blow at him. Wagh! it wur a down blow, an' it wa'n't nuthin' else. It split the niggur's head clur down to the thrapple.
But she are gone; that leetle gun are gone; an' the mar too; an' hyur I am 'ithout eyther beast or weepun; cuss the luck!" And the last words were uttered with an angry hiss, that echoed through every part of the cave. "Yur the young fellur, the capt'n's friend, ain't 'ee?" inquired the speaker, with a sudden change of tone. "Yes," I replied.
'Twus sep'rated into two halves as ef 't had been clove wi' a broad-axe! Ef 'ee had 'a seed the varmint when he kim to the ground, 'ee'd 'a thort he wur double-headed. Jest then I spied the Injuns a-comin' down both sides o' the bluff; an' havin' neyther beast nor weepun, exceptin' a knife, this child tuk a notion 'twa'n't safe to be thur any longer, an' cached; he did."
Load that ber'l agin. I guess we'll git a lot o' 'm afore we gins in. Cuss the luck! that gun, Tar-guts! Ef I only had that leetle piece hyur! 'Ee've got six shots, have 'ee? Good! 'Ee mout chock up the cave wi' their karkidges afore they kin reach us. It ur a great weepun, an' no mistakes. I seed the cap use it. Lor'! how he made it tell on them niggers i' the shanty!
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