of large stones
put into it to heat. This done, Larry cut off a lump of meat from the
haunch--a good deal larger than his own head, which wasn't small--the
skin with the hair on being cut off along with the meat. A considerable
margin of flesh was then pared off from the lump, so as to leave an
edging of hide all round, which might overlap the remainder, and enclose
it, as it were, in a natural bag.

At this stage of the process Larry paused, looked admiringly at his
work, winked over the edge of it at Ah-wow, and went hastily into the
tent, whence he issued with two little tin canisters,--one containing
pepper, the other salt.

"Why, you beat the French all to nothing!" remarked the captain, who sat
on an upturned tea-box, smoking and watching the proceedings.

"Ah! thin, don't spake, capting; it'll spile yer appetite," said Larry,
sprinkling the seasoning into the bag and closing it up by means of a
piece of cord. He then drew the red-hot stones and ashes from the fire,
and, making a hot-bed thereof, placed the venison-dumpling--if we may be
allowed the term--on the centre of it. Before the green hide was quite
burned through, the dish was "cooked," as Yankees express it, "to a
curiosity," and the tasting thereof would have evoked from an alderman a
look, (he would have been past speaking!) of ecstasy, while a lady might
have exclaimed, "Delicious!" or a schoolboy have said, "Hlpluhplp," [see
note 1], or some such term which ought only to be used in reference to
intellectual treats, and should never be applied to such low matters as
meat and drink.

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Note 1. Hlpluhplp. As the reader may have some difficulty in
pronouncing the above word, we beg to inform him, (or her), that it is
easily done, by simply drawing in the breath, and, at the same time,
waggling the tongue between the lips.

CHAPTER TWENTY THREE.

THE RAINY SEASON, AND ITS EFFECTS--DISEASE AND MISERY AT LITTLE CREEK--
REAPPEARANCE OF OLD FRIENDS--AN EMIGRANT'S DEATH--AN UNEXPECTED ARRIVAL.

Captain Bunting, after two days' serious consideration, made up his mind
to go down alone to San Francisco, in order to clear up the mystery of
the letter, and do all that he could personally in the absence of his
friend. To resolve, however, was easy; to carry his resolution into
effect was almost impracticable, in consequence of the inundated state
of the country.

It was no