break every bone in your karkiss."

"I can't go over," persisted Groundhog. "I ain't no fool. I know better
what kin be done with an army wagon and six mules than any Injianny
galoot that ever wore stripes or shoulder-straps. You simply can't git a
wagon acrost that branch, and I ain't goin' to try."

"Groundhog," said Shorty, "you've bin itchin' to be killed for at least
a year, that I know of probably as long as you've lived. You ought've
had a stone tied to your neck and bin flung into the crick as soon's you
was born. I've promised myself a good many times that I'd about murder
you when ever I had time, but something's always made me neglect it. I'm
in the killin' mood to-day, and I'd like to begin on you. I certainly
will unless you drive that team straight acrost, and don't git a drop o'
water in the bed o' the wagon."

"Come, hurry up, over there," shouted the Adjutant. "We can't wait all
day. What's the matter with you? Get a move on you."

"All right, sir; we'll start at once, sir," said Si with ostentatious
alacrity.

Shorty slapped his bayonet on, and brought the point very near
Groundhog's abdomen. "I'll jab this thing clean through you in a holy
minute, you pusillanimous basswood cullin'; you pestiferous pile o'
pizen, rotten punk," he said savagely. "Git on your wheel-mule and
gether up the lines."

Impelled by this, and the vigorous clutch of Si upon his collar,
Groundhog climbed clumsily into the saddle and sullenly brandished his
whip.

The mules made a start and went down the bank, but at the edge of the
turbid torrent the leaders set their legs as stiffly as if they were the
supports of a sawhorse. They did not make a sound, but somehow the
other four understood, with electric suddenness, and their legs set like
posts.

"Jest as I expected," said Groundhog, with a grunt of satisfaction;
"they've balked for all day, an' you can't git 'em to move another foot
if you killed 'em. They're as solid as if they'd growed there."

With an air of having encountered the irresistible, he started to get
out of his saddle.

"Stay in there, confound you," said Shorty, prodding him with his
bayonet. "Lick them mules. Make 'em start."

"'Bout as much use in lickin' a white-oak stump," said Groundhog, plying
the whip viciously as a relief to his feelings. "You kin lick every inch
of skin off 'em, and they won't move no more'n a gravestone."

"Start those mules along. Stop fooling,' said the Adjutant impat