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"I then swum round ahint the karkidge, an' pushed it afore me till I got it landed high an' dry upon a sandbar. 'Twur like to fall to pieces, when I pulled it out o' the water. 'Twa'n't eatable nohow!" Here Rube took a fresh mouthful of the wolf-mutton, and remained silent until he had masticated it. The men had become interested in the story, and waited with impatience. At length he proceeded

But there was not one fastidious palate present, and when the "wolf-mutton" was broiled, each cleaned his joint or his rib with as much gout as if he had been picking the bones of a pheasant. Before the supper was ended the wolf-killer made a second coup, killing another wolf precisely as he had done the former; and we had the gratification of knowing that our breakfast was now provided for.

Beef or mutton?" asked one, as they began to eat. "Wolf-mutton, I reckin," was the reply. "It's dog-gone good eatin', I say; peels off as tender as squ'll." "It's some'ut like goat, ain't it?" "Mine tastes more like dog to me." "It ain't bad at all; better than poor bull any day." "I'd like it a heap better if I war sure the thing hadn't been up to yon varmint on the rocks."

And Rube, as he said this, made a fresh attack upon the wolf-mutton. "I chawed up the ole leggins, till I wur as naked as Chimley Rock." "Gollies! was it winter?" "No. 'Twur calf-time, an' warm enuf for that matter. I didn't mind the want o' the buckskin that a way, but I kud 'a eat more o' it. "The third day I struck a town o' sand-rats. This niggur's har wur longer then than it ur now.

We found a small stream heading in the Pinon Range, and running westward to the San Pedro. It was fringed with cotton-trees and willows, and with grass in abundance for our horses. Here we encamped, kindled a fire in the thicket, cooked our wolf-mutton, ate it, and went to sleep. The band came up in the morning, having travelled all night.