alone."

"I reckon that, too," remarked a hunter. "'Tain't like they made much
out o' that speckelashun. Well--about the buzzard?"

"'Ee see, I wur cleaned out, an' left with jest a pair o' leggins,
better than two hunder miles from anywhur. Bent's wur the nearest; an'
I tuk up the river in that direkshun.

"I never seed varmint o' all kinds as shy. They wudn't 'a been if I'd
'a had my traps; but there wa'n't a critter, from the minners in the
waters to the bufflers on the paraira, that didn't look like they knowed
how this niggur were fixed. I kud git nuthin' for two days but lizard,
an' scarce at that."

"Lizard's but poor eatin'," remarked one.

"'Ee may say that. This hyur thigh jeint's fat cow to it--it are."

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. I made snares o' it, an' trapped a lot o'
the rats; but they grew shy too, cuss 'em! an' I had to quit that
speck'lashun. This wur the third day from the time I'd been set down,
an' I wur getting nasty weak on it. I 'gin to think that the time wur
come for this child to go under.

"'Twur a leetle arter sun-up, an' I wur sittin' on the bank, when I seed
somethin' queery floatin' a-down the river. When I kim closer, I seed
it wur the karkidge o' a buffler--calf at that--an' a couple o' buzzarts
floppin' about on the thing, pickin' its peepers out. 'Twur far out,
an' the water deep; but I'd made up my mind to fetch it ashore. I
wa'n't long in strippin', I reckin."

Here the hunters interrupted Rube's story with a laugh.

"I tuk the water, an' swam out. I kud smell the thing afore I wur
half-way, an' when I got near it, the birds mizzled. I wur soon clost
up, an' seed at a glimp that the calf wur as rotten as punk."

"What a pity!" exclaimed one of the hunters.

"I wa'n't a-gwine to have my swim for nuthin'; so I tuk the tail in my
teeth, an' swam back for the shore. I hadn't made three strokes till
the tail pulled out!

"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