s, an' me an' Steve,
in the course of a little _passear_ we're takin', is jest roundin' a
bunch of plum bushes when, as onexpected as a gun play in a Bible
class, that devil's son an' heir of a bull--who's been hid by the
bushes--ups an charges. Which you should have seen me an' Steve
scatter! We certainly do onbuckle in some hasty moves! He's bigger 'n
a baggage wagon, an' as we leaves our guns ten rods away in camp,
thar's nothin' for it but to dig out.

"Nigh whar I'm at is a measley _pinon_ tree, an' the way I swarms
aloft among that vegetable's boughs an' branches comes mighty clost to
bein' a lesson to mountain lions. Steve, who's the onluckiest sport
west of the Missouri, an' famed as sech, ain't got no tree. The best
he can do is go divin' into a hole he sees in some rocks, same as if
he's a jack-rabbit with a coyote in hot pursoote.

"Me an' Steve both bein' safe, an' reegyardin' that bull as baffled, I
draws a breath of relief. That is, to be ackerate, I starts to draw
it; but before I so much as gets it started, yere that inordinate
Steve comes b'ilin' out of his hole ag'in like he ain't plumb
satisfied about that bull. The bull's done give him up, too, an'
switchin' his tail some thoughtful has started to go away, when, as I
tells you, that fool Steve comes surgin' out upon his reetreatin'
hocks.

"Nacherally, what could any se'f-respectin' bull do but wheel an'
chase Steve back? It's no use, though; Steve won't have it. No sooner
does the bull get him hived that a-way, an' make ready to reetire to
private life ag'in, than, bing! yere Steve comes bulgin' like a cork
out of a bottle. An' so it continyoos, a reg'lar see-saw between Steve
an' the bull. Steve'll go into his cave of refooge, prairie-dog
fashion, a foot ahead of the bull's horns, only to be a foot behind
the bull's tail as that painstakin' anamile is arrangin' to deepart.

"Which sech wretched strategy arouses my contempt.

"'You dad-binged Siwash,' I yells down at Steve, 'whyever don't
you-all stay in that hole, ontil the bull forgets whar you're at?'

"'Go on!' Steve shouts back, as in he dives, head-first, for mebby
it's the twentieth time; 'it's as simple as suckin' aiggs, ain't it,
for you up in your tree? You-all don't know nothin' about this hole;
thar's a b'ar in this hole!'

"Which I allers remembers about that dilemmy of Steve's. An' now, when
I beholds a gent makin' some rannikaboo break, an' everybody's
scoffin' at him an' dee