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Read Ebook: The Wild Huntress: Love in the Wilderness by Reid Mayne
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Ebook has 845 lines and 101324 words, and 17 pages
"Well! ef I wan't bothered wi' these hyar animals, I ked follow them tracks easy enough. We'd soon kum upon the wheel agin, I reck'n: they ain't a-goin' to travel fur, wi' a hump like thet on thar shoulders."
"No; it's not likely."
"Wal, then, capt'n, s'pose we leave our critters hyar, an' take arter 'em afut? We kin quarter the groun' a good bit ahead; an I guess we'll eyther kum on them or thar berra afore long."
On noting this peculiarity, my companion uttered an exclamation of astonishment. "Thar's a fut, an' no mistake!" cried he. "I reck'n 'twar Long-legs as made them tracks. Well! ef I hedn't seed the man hisself, I'd a swore thar war giants in these parts!"
TRACKING THE TRUNDLE.
A BRACE OF "OLD SOJERS."
THE BARROW IN DEBATE.
Our patience was not put to a severe test. O'Tigg was not the man to keep his tongue in tranquillity for any extended time. Neither was Sure-shot an admirer of the silent system. Both were talkers. On this occasion, the "infantry" was the first to make himself heard.
"Be japers! comrayde, I'm afther thinkin' fwhat purty fools us hiv bin, to tak it afut this way, loike two thramps, whin wez moight ivery bit as wil hav been stroidin' a pair ov good pownies. We cowld a fitched a pair from the Fort wid all the aize in the wurld."
"Yees, Petrick, certing ye ain't fer 'stray 'bout thet pertickler; we've been raither ungumptious."
"Besoides, wez rooight as wil hav been hung for a shape as a lamb. We'll be flogg'd all as wan, iv the iskhort foinds us, fur taykin' the guns, an' the knapsacks, an' the whaleborra--bad luck to the borra!"
"No, Petrick, don't cuss the berra--it hes served us for certing. We kedn't a got along 'thout the machine--how ked we? We ked niver hev toted our doin's es we've did; an' but for the piece o' bacon an' thet eer bag o' meal, we'd a sterved long afore this, I recking. Don't cuss the berra."
"Och! it's made my showlders ache, as if some skhoundrel had been batin' them wid a sprig ov shillaylah!"
"Ne'er a mind 'bout thet! yer shoulders 'll be all right arter ye've got a wink o' sleep. Spank my skin! ef thet ere wan't a cute dodge--it's throwd the Indyens off o' the scent for certain; or we'd a heerd some'ut o' them verming afore this."
"Faith, I think we've sucksaided in bamboozling thim, shure enough."
The meat by this time showed sufficiently done; and the two men applied themselves to eating, with an earnestness that allowed no time for talking. The conversation had revealed enough of their past actions, and future designs, to confirm the conjectures I had already formed about them.
As stated, they had both belonged to the "Rangers" of immortal memory. After the disbandment of the corps, they had entered upon a fresh lease of soldier-life, by enlisting into the regular army. O'Tigg had given preference to the sky-blue of the "line;" while the Yankee had taken to the mounted rifles--as a capital marksman, like him, would naturally do. Indeed, it would have been impossible to have "licked" the latter into anything like soldierly shape; and all the drill-sergeants in creation could not have made him stand with "toes turned in," or "eyes right." To have "dressed" the old ranger in line would have been a physical impossibility. In the mounted rifles, personal appearance is of less importance; and considering the little inclination there is to enlist in the American army--especially in times of peace--the oddest looking article is thankfully accepted. In the dearth of recruits. Sure-shot could have had no difficulty in passing inspection.
"But shure now, comrayde! we moight manage widout the borra--seein' as we've got into the buffalos' counthry. Aren't them bastes as aizy to kill as tame cows? Shure we'd niver be widout mate as long as our powder lasts?"
"Be me sowl! I'd ruther carry the male on my showlders. There's liss of it now; an' maybe I could manage it, iv you'ld only carry the spids, an' thim other things. We moight lave the knapsicks an' kyarthridge-box behind. What use ud they be in Kalifornya? They'll only lade to our detiction by the throops out there."
"Fwhat div yez mane?" interrogated the Irishman--evidently puzzled to interpret the other's speech. "We kin leave all them fixing in Morming City."
"But will the thrain be afther thravellin' that way? Shure ye don't know that."
"Certing it will. A putty consid'able pert o' it air made up o' Mormings; an' they'll be boun' to the Salt Lake. We kin foller them an' drop t'other. In the Morming settlements, we kin swop our unyforms for suthin' else, an' the berra too. Es to the knepsacks an' cartridge-box, I guess as how I inteend to make a spec on them ere two articles."
"Fwhat! a pair ov soger knapsacks, an' an owld kyarthridge-box! They wuldn't fitch the worth ov dhrinks apaice."
"Theer your mistaking, Mister Tigg. Preehaps they'll swop better'n you think. How d'ye know I ain't like to git a beest apiece for 'em--eyther a mule or a hoss? This child ain't a going to fut it all the way to Californey. B'yont the Morming City, he rides a spell, I recking."
"Be japers! that's an out-an'-out good oidea. But how dev ye mane to carry it through? that's what bothers Patrick O'Tigg."
"We--ell, Petrick, I'll tell ee my plan. I ain't got it straightened out yet, but I hope to hev it all right by the time we're on t'other side the mountings--leastwise before we reaches Morming City."
"Arrah! fwhat is it?" inquired the impatient Irishman.
A TOUGH STORY.
I had commenced reflecting upon this point, when I was interrupted by the voice of Sure-shot resuming the conversation. Thus did he enter on his explanation:
"Ye see, kimrade, these Mormings, es I've heern, air mighty taken up wi' sogerin', an' thet sort o' thing. Ye've heerd talk o' theer great bettelion. They'll be arter these eer treppings for certing, since they hain't much chence o' gittin' soger fixings out theer. We-ell, what I mean to do is to put the knepsacks off on 'em for some new improvement o' pattern. I guess it air thet--I've heerd say so at the Fort--then the Morming jineral, who air the prophet hisself, an' who's got berrls o' dollars--he'll buy the knepsacks at any price. Now, de ye take, Mister Tigg?"
"Easy as eatin' punkin-pie. Jehosophet! I hain't been five year in the tradin' line 'ithout lernin' the bizness, I recking."
"Be me faith! yez must have been raal cliver at it, whin ye sowld them cypress-knees for bacon-hams to the Bawltemoreans. You remimber that story yez towld us down in Mixico?"
"Yees; certingly I remember it--he, he, he! But I kim a better trick then thet on the Orleens people 'bout five yeer ago--jest 'fore I jined the Rangers."
"Fwhat was it, shure?"
"Shure yez did, didn't ye?"
"No-o-o; neer a bit o' 't. It keemd nigh breakin' us."
"Arrah, how?"
"We-ell! ye see, when we got roun' to Orleens, we learnt that the boot-trade hed a'most stopped. The allygator leather didn't turn out jest the thing for brogans; an' besides, it got sca'ce by reezun o' the killin' o' them verming. In coorse, the pegs hed fell in price; they'd kim down so low, that we ked only git twenty-five cents a bushel for 'em!"
"Mother ov Moses! only twenty-five cents a bushel!"
"Thet was all they'd fetch--offer 'em when an' wheer we would. In coorse, we wan't fools enough to take thet--the dernationed pegs hed cost us more in Bosting!"
"Divil a doubt ov it? But fwhat did yez do wid 'em, anyhow?"
"We-ell, Mister Tigg, we weer cleer beat at fust; an' didn't know what to do--neyther me'r my pertner. But arter takin' a good think over it, I seed a way o' gitting out o' the scrape--leestwise 'ithout sech a loss as sellin' the pegs at twenty-five cents the bushel. I seed a chence o' gitting rid o' them at fifty cents."
"Arrah, now! in fwhat way, comrade?"
"You've seed boot-pegs, I recking, Mister Tigg?"
"An' shure I hiv. Aren't they the same that's in these suttlers' brogues we've got on--bad luck to them?"
"Jess the same--only whitier when they air new."
"Be japers! I think I remimber seein' a barrel full ov thim in New Yark."
"Very certing it were them--they air usooaly packed in berr'ls. Can you think o' anything they looked like?"
"Wil, in troth, they looked more loike oats than anything I can recollect. Shure they did look moighty like oats!"
"An' don't ee kalkerlate they'd a looked more like oats, ef they'd been pointed at both ends instead o' one!"
"In troth, would they--all that same."
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